Keepers of the Western Forest

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Keepers of the Western Forest Page 8

by Chris Kennedy


  Chapter 8

   

  King Arthur sat rigid in his chair, glaring before him, unseeing. At his table in the great banqueting hall, no one spoke.

  Brynn stood behind him, holding a great flagon. He had been chosen to serve the wine at the high table—Sir Broderic had had something to do with that, he suspected—and now he was awaiting the signal. This was the most important thing he had been given to do since arriving in Camelot with his mother and sister over a year ago, but the day was turning out a disappointment. Sir Broderic had been defeated in the lists and now the festivities were being ruined. Aware of the silence throughout the hall, he looked round the faces of the guests at the king’s table.

  Next to Arthur sat the queen and his closest knights. Lancelot and Gawain were there and Sir Bors with his lady. Sir Broderic and some of the young knights who had taken part in the day’s jousting sat opposite them, together with a few damsels of the court. The lords and ladies gathered round the other tables stared glumly at the rich feast that was spread before them. Roasted fowls, peppered chops, parsnips and all manner of fruits and delicacies remained untasted, for nobody would have dared to start before the king, whose knife and goblet lay untouched on the table.

  Guinevere finally broke the silence. “My lord,” she said softly. “I know you must be disappointed. You had set such store by the tournament, hoping to find knights worthy of a place at the Round Table.”

  “Indeed,” replied the king. “Just as I have hoped every year since the days when my fellowship was complete, when Tristram, Karman and Pelinore and his cousins were all still with us, and many another good knight!” He glanced over at Broderic. “My friend, I well remember the day I first saw you ride in the lists. Right glad I was to welcome you to my company. When I saw even you take a fall before this unknown knight’s lance today, I felt sure we had found a worthy champion indeed. But then—the insolence of the fellow!”

  He banged his fist down on the table and turned to Lancelot on his right.

  “He disobeyed my command and he insulted my lady Guinevere! You, Lancelot, as the queen’s champion, you must avenge her honour. Tomorrow you will ride out, find this discourteous villain and slay him. Or bring him to me as your prisoner.”

  “My dear, temper your anger,” Guinevere said. “I confess to being somewhat taken aback by his behaviour this afternoon, but I do not feel insulted. Something about the way he sat, with his head bowed, made me think that perhaps some great sorrow—” She broke off with a puzzled frown. “Or is he mad, perhaps, or possessed?”

  Arthur grunted. “You, with your woman’s heart! Ever too ready to find excuses for unknightly conduct. Broderic, you have conversed with this false knight. What do you make of him?”

  Broderic had told Brynn earlier he felt no resentment towards the unknown knight for his victory that day. The young man’s words in the forest clearing had appealed to his imagination, he said, but his behaviour at the tournament was hard to defend.

   “My Lord, he is young and eager. I must say I liked him for that. And he spoke to me courteously enough.” Broderic paused. “But not before he had knocked me off my horse, of course. Perhaps he is a two-faced fellow after all!”

  “I wish he would see fit to show us at least one of them, then,” said the damsel sitting next to him.

  A laugh went round the table. It was quickly stifled, however—the king was still scowling.

  “My lord,” Lancelot now said. “You know full well I would hasten to obey you and not even wait for the morning before riding after this unknown knight, but my lady does not seem intent on vengeance. And, if I may speak my mind, something I saw in this young man’s way of jousting today has been bothering me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I seemed to recognize the style—though I’m still trying to remember from where. I think we can expect great things from this Knight with the Closed Visor.”

  Everyone at the table exchanged looks at this remark. Brynn knew Lancelot was the greatest living expert on matters concerning the joust.

  Arthur, however, was not satisfied. “Very well, sir!” he grumbled. “If you have no stomach for the job, I will say this. Any knight here who brings this villain to me will be richly rewarded—nay, pursue him in a group if you will, show him not the courtesy of fair combat, but drag him back here like a common thief!”

  There was a sudden disturbance at the lower end of the hall. Brynn turned his head in time to see the great doors swing open. A slender girl in a long white robe trimmed with yellow silk stood in the opening for a moment before stepping over the threshold. It was the damsel he had met in the forest! Everyone was watching her as she advanced down the hall towards Arthur and his queen. Her eyes were as blue as the woodland flowers entwined in her long golden hair and the gracefulness of her walk stopped Brynn’s heart. She took her stand in front of the high table and addressed the king.

  “My Lord,” she said. “I have a favour to beg of you.”

  Arthur rose to his feet, his frown banished now. “Speak, damsel, for I am sure I can refuse you nothing.”

  “Then, my Lord, I ask you not to hunt down the unfortunate young man who earned your displeasure today. He is inexperienced and not yet made a knight. If you knew the true reason for his unmannerly behaviour you would think less harshly of him.”

  “Alas, lady,” replied Arthur. “I find that hard to believe! Maybe you can tell me just why I should forgive him?”

  “At this time, my lord, I shall tell you no more, but remember your word to me and grant me this boon. Let me be the one to find him, instead of any of your knights here. When I do, I shall take him on such a quest that, should he succeed in it, he shall have done you great service.”

  “And then? How shall I know of this?”

  “I pledge that he shall return here to you, my lord, and when you learn what he has done you will forgive him with all your heart and knight him with your own sword, Excalibur! But should he fail in his quest and be slain, why then he shall have paid for any wrong he may have done.”

  “Very well, lady.” Arthur was smiling now. “Your words have filled me with wonder. I eagerly await the outcome of this matter!”

  The mysterious damsel bowed to the king and queen. She turned and walked lightly back to the great doors which closed behind her, as if by themselves. Brynn could see the look of amazement on the faces of the whole company. The unknown knight’s story had taken an exciting turn.

  King Arthur took his knife in his hand and held up his goblet to be filled. He was beaming; Brynn had been at court long enough to know he loved nothing better than the promise of marvels and adventures.

  “My lords and ladies!” roared the king. “Let us not waste this feast!”

 

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