Keepers of the Western Forest

by Chris Kennedy

  Chapter 14

   

  “Tarrum tumtum, was once a spotty youth!” sang Broderic, as he rode his brown yearling, River, out of the shelter of the trees and onto the wide meadow by the walls of Camelot.

  Brynn was riding by his side, on his sister Shayla’s grey palfrey, Maggie. He laughed. “What’s that, sir?”

  “A ballad I want to have ready for Darin, when he comes back to Camelot—The Knight with the Closed Visor. I’m using that tune he whistles all the time.”

  “To commemorate his brave deeds?”

  “Yes—well, not exactly, Brynn. It’s a bit of a joke, really. In my song, the reason he keeps his visor closed is to hide his youthful spots and pimples!”

  Brynn laughed again. “You don’t think he’ll mind?”

  “Of course not! He’s a good fellow. I’ll give a dinner when he gets back, invite our friends round. I’ll sing it then.”

  They reined in their horses and gazed out across the bright meadow that lay before them, spangled with purple and yellow flowers and splashed a vibrant red where the occasional poppy blew in the warm breeze.

  “I want the ballad to end with a bit of a flourish,” Broderic said after a while. “I’ll have King Arthur make a toast during the celebration banquet at the end of the story. He holds up his goblet and says:

  Full many a brave and handsome knight in truth

  Like Darin here was once a spotty youth!”

  He turned and grinned at Brynn. “I’ll disguise our hero a bit, though—give him another name. Everyone will know who it is, of course. Any ideas?”

  “How about Pipkin, sir?” Pipkin was the name of Brynn’s friend, the stable boy at his uncle’s house in the harbour town where he used to live.

  “Pipkin! Like Pipkin here was once a spotty youth! That’s it, lad! Now, let’s go. River can smell home.”

  They set out at a canter across the plain. Brynn was looking forward to telling his mother and Shayla all about his stay at Lord Karman’s castle in the Western Forest with Sir Broderic. In the year that had passed since Darin had arrived at Camelot, Brynn had grown taller, a little broader in the shoulder and—he fancied—he had lost some of his freckles. Although he still lived with his mother, he was now Sir Broderic’s squire in all but name. He spent his days looking after the horses and practising archery with Broderic and Darin.

  He glanced with pride at his master-to-be. In these peaceful times, it was no longer necessary to ride armed in the forests around Camelot. Sir Broderic, unencumbered by helmet or armour, rode easily. His hair floated on the breeze and he was stylishly dressed in green doublet and hose, with a jewelled dagger at his waist. Brynn was wearing his customary brown tunic; he had his longbow on his back.

  Within minutes, they were riding through the great gates and into Camelot. One of the guards waved and ran towards them.

  “Sir Broderic! The king wants to see you in the council chamber. He is impatient, you’d best go immediately. Your lad here can stable your horse.”

  “You heard him, Brynn.” Broderic jumped down from River’s back. “I’ll see you back at my chambers.”

  Brynn dismounted and took the reins of both horses in his hand. He watched Broderic and the guard hurrying away towards the keep. They were soon out of sight.

  “Come on, you two.”

  Docilely, River and Maggie followed him down the cobbled street. He hitched the grey palfrey to the post by the stable door—he would ride her home later—and led River inside. After nearly two day’s ride from the Castle of the Western Forest, Broderic’s yearling was happy to be back in his stall. Brynn brought some oats for him to get his nose into and stood back to watch. It was good to stand in the dimly lit stables, with their comforting odour and no sound but River’s steady munching.

  Going to visit Darin with Sir Broderic had been the most exciting event since last year’s tournament. The two young knights had treated him so familiarly and Broderic had often talked to him like a friend about his plans. Within a year, Broderic was going to marry Tara, one of Queen Guinevere’s ladies-in-waiting. Brynn had first seen her at the May Day banquet, the dark-haired girl who had been sitting next to Broderic. Once they were married, they would set up home and Broderic would come into some land from his uncle. Then Brynn would live with them as Broderic’s squire and learn all the knightly skills.

  His dreams about the future were interrupted by the sound of Broderic calling his name outside.

  “Saddle him up again, Brynn. Quickly, while I go and arm myself.”

  By the time Brynn had River ready again and taken him outside, Broderic was back. He was wearing his coat of mail and had his sword and shield. He leapt into the saddle and looked down at Brynn.

  “Tell your sister that whatever she hears about Darin, it's not true. Tell her I’m going to prove it!”

  Brynn was still holding River’s bridle. “What do you mean sir? Please!”

  “A knight was attacked in the forest this morning, a kinsman of Lancelot’s who was on his way here. An armed rider ambushed him and struck him from behind like a coward! The knight is badly wounded—he may even die.”

  “But what has this got to do with Darin, sir?”

  “The rider was young and handsome and carried a shield with an oak tree—like Darin’s! The king has sent three knights to bring Darin here for questioning. Now, let me go. I must find this impostor.”

  Broderic spurred his horse and set off at a gallop for the northern gate, showing scant regard for passers-by. Brynn closed the stable doors, mounted the palfrey and rode her to his mother’s house.

  It was impossible! Darin was brave and honourable, he would never attack anyone unprovoked—and from behind! Nobody would believe it. And why was it so important to tell Shayla?

  He found his sister sitting on the bench outside their door, braiding her hair, which was as red as Darin’s own. She looked up and smiled.

  “Hello, little brother. How was it at Darin’s?” She stood up and came over to stroke Maggie’s neck. “Oh, how I wish I could have gone too!”

  Brynn was surprised by the sudden passion with which she made this last remark. Then, suddenly, he understood—she was in love with Darin. Of course! This made sense of a lot of things. Recently, Shayla had been joining them at archery practice. Darin didn’t pay her much attention, but Broderic was always encouraging and she was on the way to becoming a very good shot. Now Brynn understood the way he had seen her looking at Darin sometimes. Broderic must have noticed it too; that was why he was so welcoming. He had once confided in Brynn how worried he was that Darin was making himself unhappy, brooding about that faerie friend of his. Nothing good could ever come of that, Broderic said. Why couldn’t Darin find happiness with one of the court damsels, like he had done with Tara?

  Brynn could never quite understand why Broderic, whom he admired in every way, could be so embarrassing where girls were concerned. Surely, the brave Sir Darin would not be the same? Brynn loved his sister, however, and hated the thought of her getting hurt. He dismounted and took her hand.

  Her face turned pale as he carefully repeated what Broderic had told him. When he was finished, she slumped back down on the bench and hid her face in her hands. When she looked up again it was with tears in her eyes.

  “Oh, Brynn! It can’t be true. This poor wounded knight will say so, as soon as he sees Darin face to face.”

  “Of course he will.”

  Shayla frowned. “But what if the knight should die before Darin gets here? How will he prove his innocence then?”

  “Sir Broderic has gone after the traitor who is carrying his shield. If he gets him, that will be proof enough.”

  “But if not? They’ll make him stand by the knight’s corpse. Oh, Brynn, I don’t trust that way!”

  Brynn shuddered. He knew what she meant. It was generally believed that a dead man’s wounds would start bleeding afresh in the presence of his murderer.

  “Don’t be afraid, Shayla,”
Brynn said. “Sir Broderic will not fail.”

  He sat down next to her and put his arms around her. She let her head fall on his shoulder, sobbing.