The Mindwalk Pavilion

20211101

Bridget wished, and not for the first time, that she had a blanket or a fur to wrap around her. The winter winds found every possible egress into the chamber, and despite the heavy tapestries that hung from the walls, and the fire that burned bravely if erratically in the drafts, the room felt dismal and cold. Shivering, she moved nearer the fire, for her self imposed vigil would not allow her to leave the room and fetch anything.

Boudica in contrast was clearly perspiring. Her copper hair was spread damply over the pillows as she lay almost motionless on the bed. Youngest daughter of the Great Harry, she was at her sister Mary's dying request attempting the challenges of the Mindwalk Pavilion. If she succeeded, Boudica would be Queen, the fourth Tudor in succession to hold that title.

From her place close to the fire, now mercifully lending some slight warmth to her small form, Bridget watched her friend closely. The two women had been inseparable from infancy, daughter of a King, and daughter of , William Sommers, the King's fool. Such was Great Harry's regard for his fool that they had been nursed together.

As Boudica grew, she had refused obstinately to do anything without Bridget. They had shared tutors, and once Boudica's lively intelligence made itself known, their education had been the best a Kingdom could provide. Fluent in several other languages besides her native tongue, Boudica could converse in French, Dutch, Italian and Spanish, as well as read and write Latin, Greek, and Arabic. Rarely during her childhood was she without several books, that she would read at every opportunity.

Now at twenty two, she was pitting herself against a challenge that Bridget could take no part in. The Mindwalk Pavilion was only available to those with developed psychic abilities, and Bridget, like the majority of the population had no such talent. It tended to run in families. The Council, which with the monarch ruled Albion, was usually heavily populated by members of these families. It was not an absolute requirement that a Council member could enter the Mindwalk Pavilion, but for the monarch it was.

Bridget looked around the room. Every member of Council was here, most sat, their eyes closed, as they observed events that were unfolding in some realm Bridget would never see.

Elderly Edward Carrick, frail and venerable, was positioned like Bridget close to the fire. His head, nodding gently as though he were napping, was a dandelion clock of sparse white hair. Bridget knew him to be a kindly and very gentle man. In any court there are factions and allegiances, but Carrick was immune to this, and everyone seemed to like and respect him. Often he had been able to resolve some Council dispute amicably with his good humour and wisdom.

Katherine Rothersay was Boudica's mother. The third wife of King Harry, and somewhat younger than him she had nursed him in his old age. Her family, like that of Harry Tudor, could trace their lineage back to Boudica I, and Katherine was probably as gifted as her husband. Sh had declined to take the challenge herself, allowing her step son Edward, who was nearly her own age to rule in his father's wake.

Then it had been the turn of Mary, daughter of Harry's second marriage. His beloved wife Hannah Llewellyn had died giving birth to Mary. Katherine had tried her best to bring up the child as her own, though Mary seemed to irrationally focus her resentment of her mother's death into blame on Katherine's part. Boudica however doted on her big step-sister and had been distraught when history horribly repeated itself.

Mary had died in childbirth, as had her child, a boy she planned to call Lucius after his father, the Proconsul of Iberia, Fernando Lucius de Moncloa.

Despite fully understanding the need, Katherine worried that so soon after the death of her step-sister, Boudica was taking the challenge. Yet Mary had insisted, she had had a premonition, that Albion would soon be under a great threat, and Boudica, like her ancestor, was the one to save the realm from Rome.

There had been some dissent, especially from Morwenna Llewellyn, who thought that her nephew Pawl would be a far better candidate for ruler. A dying premonition always carried weight, and the majority of the Council had voted that Boudica be allowed to follow her sister's wishes. William Cecil had pointed out that if she were not in fact up to the challenge, then Boudica would fail, and Pawl should then be next to try. This had been agreed.

Feeling warmer, Bridget resumed her place between William Cecil and Katherine, who despite her trance seemed to sense Bridget's presence, and reached to give her tiny hand a reassuring squeeze.

William Cecil was trained as a lawyer and seemed to Bridget older than his 36 years. He was eloquent, refined and precise in manner. Both Edward and Mary had used him as an ambassador, and his sojourns in the various courts of Europe had given Cecil a formidable grasp of the politics and personalities of that continent.

He was careful never to talk down to anyone, and could converse as easily with a swineherd as a Proconsul. It was rumoured that Cecil maintained such an extensive network of friends that nothing could happen in any of the courts of Europe without his hearing of it. Whether this was true or not Bridget didn't know, but if she had cause to enter his chambers, he was nearly always reading or writing letters, so she imagined that it was.

Across from them sat Morwenna Llewellyn, head of that family, and next to her sat her close friend Eleanor Ffitzjohn, the widow of Edward. Bridget liked neither of them, though Eleanor mainly because she just seemed to be an echo for Morwenna.

Born in Cornwall, Morwenna married Huw Llewellyn, who then owned most of North Wales. On his death, she had by dint of her overbearing personality and ambition taken control of all those lands, and was now undisputed head of the Llewellyn family. Seemingly unable to have children, she'd selected her nephew Pawl Llewellyn, the son of Madoc Llewellyn to be her heir.

Though he was well built, considered handsome and popular with many of the ladies at court, Bridget thought Pawl to be a spoiled and self righteous oaf. It had not been many years earlier that Pawl had picked on Bridget because she was a dwarf. Her father had warned her that some people could, and would be cruel, and told her not to take such spite to heart. But when his words had torn through Bridget's sense of well being, this warning could not prevent the tears.

Furious, Boudica had strode up to Pawl, so close that their faces almost touched. She had then suggested loudly that perhaps Pawl's obsession with size was due to the no doubt insignificant dimensions of his member and the cruelty of his words a reflection of the smallness of his mind. Humiliated, Pawl had been about to strike her when the look on her face had decided him against. Instead he had muttered an insincere apology to Bridget. The next day he left the court to attend to business for a few months, until the incident had been largely forgotten.

Morwenna was not so petty that she held this against Boudica, but there was little doubt that she would like the woman to fail in the Mindwalk. A thin smile suggested to Bridget that Boudica's trials were not going well, and Morwenna was pleased.

Near the end of the bed was Dafydd Morus.

Poor devoted Dafydd, Bridget thought. Since he was a young boy, it had been obvious to everyone that Dafydd was painfully in love with Boudica. Sadly, the object of his devotions did not feel any reciprocation of feelings. Boudica loved Dafydd, in the same way that you might love a clumsy puppy, but there was no romance in this.

When Dafydd was still a baby, his father had died suddenly, leaving his wife to seek support from her cousins the powerful Llewellyns. Subsequently Dafydd had grown up the poor relation in a rich household. Pawl, nearly two years his senior had bullied and led Dafydd into many a dubious escapade, and was not above letting Dafydd take the punishment for his own indiscretions. Despite this, Dafydd looked up to Pawl with something akin to hero worship. Bridget quite liked the young man, but because of his devotion to Pawl, she felt quite glad that Boudica showed him no favouritism.

In fact Boudica didn't show any of the young men at court any particular attention. Bridget knew her friend well enough to know that this was because she was scared that any romantic involvement would destroy her psychic talents. Bridget, who had sampled some of the delights of romantic 'entanglement', had tried to persuade Boudica that her fears were ungrounded. Boudica had quoted various authorities to support her stance, and the discussion had had no resolution.

Brian Peters sat in a straight backed wooden chair next to Edward Carrick. Bridget thought he looked regal, though he had shown no interest in the throne despite having tutored all three of King Harry's children in the occult arts, and being, according to Boudica, 'very powerful really, he just hides how powerful he is'.

Bridget could see that his deep set blue eyes were closed at present of course, since he was in the Pavilion with the others. A somewhat lined face framed a prominent hooked nose, and his sandy hair was greying at the temples. If Boudica was in love with anyone, it was Brian Peters, thought Bridget. It was a very intellectual love though, based on books and knowledge and ideas. Bridget remembered warm hands running over her body and covered her mouth as she smiled at the recollection. Boudica didn't know what she was missing.

Looking around Bridget saw Dr John Dee tucked away in a corner. With his dark clothes, back skull cap and long white beard, he looked serious and sombre. Mathematician, mapmaker, alchemist, book collector and astronomer, he'd devoted his life to study. This led him to spend a lot of time with Brian Peters, and more recently Boudica, which meant as a consequence with Bridget.

Despite her own quick intelligence, inherited from her father, some of what was discussed went over her head. Bridget chuckled at her own joke, it was the sort of phrase her father would have loved. The trio regularly discussed education, methods of learning, and especially technology. This they applied to what Bridget thought would more easily be termed 'inventions', and it was something they were keen to foster the development of.

Word count 1,801