by C. J. Busby
“Cheer up, Olivia! Got some new armour as a present from your mother last week. Wasn’t going to get it out in the practice runs – didn’t want the opposition to be put on their guard. But we’re going to win this one, my dear girl. We’re definitely going to win!”
Olivia looked down at the pile of armour, startled. It was indeed a whole new suit. And there seemed to be far fewer pieces to fasten together… She looked up at Sir Bertram, suddenly hopeful. He winked.
“Easy-fastening buckles,” he said triumphantly. “And it all fits beautifully. No pulling or pushing required.”
The horn sounded, then a drum roll, and then Sir Gareth roared, “Arm your knight!” The centre of the green instantly turned into a frenzy of clashing, clanging armour, squirming knights, panting squires and stamping horses. But in the middle of it all, Max could see Sir Bertram disappearing under shining bits of metal faster that he’d ever thought possible, and Daisy happily standing still as a statue while Olivia flung on her harness and saddle.
Meanwhile Sir Gawaine’s horse was snorting and stamping and flinging his head around while Mordred cursed. Gawaine stood quite still and blank beside him. Odd, thought Max, that he was neither helping nor laughing, nor indeed doing anything much at all. It wasn’t like Sir Gawaine. But as he turned to nudge Lancelot and point this out, the horn sounded to mark the end of the event, and Sir Gareth announced with a great shout:
“Olivia Pendragon wins the third event! Mordred of Orkney second! And Geraint Muddpuddle third!”
***
Olivia’s triumph with Sir Bertram’s new armour put her in very close second place overall, just behind Mordred. Everything now depended on the single-combat event in the afternoon. But before that was the first round of the Knight’s Cup, where King Arthur was scheduled to fight three bouts, against Sir Gawaine, Sir Lionel and then Sir Gaheris. Lancelot had told Max and Olivia of Merlin’s unsuccessful attempt to warn the king, and Max could see Merlin himself, standing at the other end of the ground, looking grim. There was an air of huge expectation in the crowd – after the fun of the Squires’ Challenge, this was a more serious business. Lady Morgana le Fay was sitting up high in the Royal Box, overseeing the event, with other knights and ladies around her. Max spotted Sir Richard Hogsbottom pouring her a glass of wine – and making some toadying compliment, no doubt.
The first knight to face Arthur would be Sir Gawaine.
“I can’t believe Gawaine would be working for Morgana,” said Olivia. “He’s just not evil enough.”
Max nodded. “Maybe. But there was something odd about the way he was behaving in the Arm Your Knight event. He wasn’t helping Mordred much.”
“I’m not sure Gawaine likes him,” said Olivia. “Another point in Gawaine’s favour, as far as I’m concerned.”
A hush fell over the crowd as the two knights strode to the middle of the green and saluted each other. King Arthur’s sword shone in the afternoon sunlight, looking just as impressive and glorious as ever. Gawaine’s, on the other hand, just looked like an ordinary weapon. Would he be wielding Morgana’s bespelled sword, or was it one of the other knights? Max could see Merlin, frowning intently at both swords, and Max wondered if he’d felt any magic when the knights had raised them to each other.
He tried to feel for the magic himself. There was a definite whiff of Morgana’s magic in the air, but also a bright magic that felt like the clear water of a bubbling stream, a magic that felt vaguely familiar… Max suddenly realised where he’d felt that magic before – in the potion the Lady of the Island had given him to dissolve Morgana’s icespell. And not just there – he’d also felt it yesterday. The other magic that he’d sensed, the magic that had been mixed in with Morgana’s spell – it was the Lady’s magic! No wonder it had felt familiar. But that meant…
“Olivia!” he hissed. “The spell yesterday! It was the Lady’s magic that was mixed up in it! And the Lady’s magic is what bound Excalibur to Arthur. Morgana must have been doing her spell on Excalibur! She wasn’t making a new sword – she was unbinding the Lady’s magic so someone other than King Arthur could wield Excalibur! You were right!”
“But – Merlin said she wasn’t strong enough!”
“But he also said she’s been getting more powerful. Somehow she managed to undo the Lady’s binding – and then she must have changed the swords’ appearance and swapped them! It’s not Arthur that’s got Excalibur – it’s Gawaine!”
The two knights were circling each other, both with their helmets fully closed, swords at the ready, shields up. Each had already tried a few feints, probing the other, but so far neither had struck seriously. Then King Arthur, so fast that Max barely had time to follow it, darted under Gawaine’s guard and struck a blow on his leg. Gawaine stumbled, and Arthur was on him, but Gawaine managed to raise his shield, and Arthur’s sword glanced off. As he recovered Gawaine struck a glancing blow on Arthur’s own shield, and it buckled.
The crowd gasped. Lancelot frowned, and rose to his feet. Arthur’s shield was enhanced with Merlin’s magic – surely no sword of Morgana’s could have broken through Merlin’s spell so easily? But as the sword came flashing down, Max had felt the singing power of the Lady’s magic.
“Gawaine’s got Excalibur!” he shouted to Lancelot. “Someone’s got to stop the fight! Arthur’s in terrible danger!”
“He’s going to kill the king!” said Olivia. “Max! We’ve got to do something!”
Before Max could say anything she had vaulted over the barrier and was running onto the ground. Max followed, with Lancelot beside him, taking great long strides towards the king. On the other side of the green Max could see Merlin, who had obviously realised what had happened at exactly the same time as they had, running towards the knights and shouting, in his commanding voice, “Stop! Stop the fight!”
But they were too slow, too far away.
Arthur seemed to have realised that he was fighting against Excalibur. He was defending himself desperately, but Gawaine was strong and fast and clever, and he had the most powerful magical sword in the kingdom. Gawaine had Arthur on the ground, now, his shield shattered. He raised Excalibur with both hands, and, just as Merlin roared, “No!” he brought it down and plunged it into Arthur’s chest.
There was a moment of utter stillness. Then Gawaine pulled out the sword, and fell to his knees. There was a scream in the crowd. Max and Olivia stood where they were, unable to move. They felt like they had been turned to heavy stone. Tears were streaming down Olivia’s face. Many in the crowd had covered their faces with their hands. Lancelot suddenly looked ten years older, the bones of his long face prominent, his skin grey. They all watched as Merlin walked slowly across the ground towards the fallen body of the king. Gawaine was still kneeling nearby, his helmet removed, his hair dark with sweat, his face revealing no emotion.
“The king is dead!” came a cry from the crowd. Morgana stood up tall in the Royal Box, her dark hair falling around her white shoulders, her face a mask of apparent shock and grief.
“My dear brother,” she cried. “Arthur is dead…”
“And you, his loyal sister,” said Sir Richard Hogsbottom reverently, down on one knee, “You are now our queen!”
But Merlin was now in the centre of the green, gently starting to remove Arthur’s armour. Suddenly he halted, and his eyes widened. He ripped off Arthur’s breastplate, and then one armguard, and then he started to unlace the rest of the armour as fast as possible. Max and Olivia craned forward, unable to believe what they were seeing. The whole crowd seemed stunned – but eventually it was impossible not to accept what had happened.
Merlin stood, a mixture of relief and shock on his face.
“The king is not dead!” he announced. “The king has… vanished.”
The Quest to Find the King
The mood in the castle that evening was sombre. A great feast had been prepared to celebrate the end of the festival but right now no one was quite clear whether they should be ce
lebrating or mourning. Was a vanished king better than a dead king? Would Arthur return, or had he been dispatched to the Otherworld, never to be seen again? Was Morgana le Fay now their queen, or was she simply a temporary regent? King Arthur’s senior knights had been gathered with Lady Morgana for most of the afternoon, trying to decide what to do, but no one had heard from them yet.
Olivia and Max were glumly sharing a large pie and a pile of pastries near the end of one of the long banquet tables. Under the table, Adolphus was finishing off the scraps Olivia threw to him, and Vortigern was halfway through a pile of bread somewhat larger than himself.
“Well, all I can say is, I hope they string Gawaine up by his toenails,” said Olivia, savagely stabbing her knife into a piece of meat. “I can’t believe I actually liked him!”
Ferocious, sitting on Max’s shoulder, rolled his eyes. “We’ve been through this. He was obviously enchanted. You only had to look at him.”
“Yes – enchanted. Or doing a good job of pretending to be,” said Max, thoughtfully. “After all – he is Morgana’s nephew. Like Mordred.”
Olivia muttered something into her pastry that sounded like ‘Stinking slime-covered pile of rat’s droppings’, but at that moment the great door at the end of the hall opened and Morgana le Fay entered majestically, with Arthur’s knights around her, all looking grim.
Sir Bertram spotted them and came over.
“We’re going on a quest,” he said, as he reached them. “Groups of two knights and two squires, to search for Arthur. Three days to find him, or news of him, and after that, if there’s no success, we make Morgana queen.” He sat down heavily. “Bad business, really bad. But if we can’t get Arthur back, there’s no help for it. The kingdom needs a ruler.”
“So that’s you and me, then, one knight and one squire for the quest,” said Olivia, in a tone that made it clear she would not take no for an answer. “And Max may have taken up magic, but he’s a squire as well. We just need one more knight.”
Lancelot, who had been sitting silently on Max’s other side, raised his head.
“Well I think that had better be me. It’s time for me to be a knight again.”
Sir Bertram raised his eyebrows. “A knight? Are you really? Splendid! So, I suppose Caradoc isn’t your real name then?”
Lancelot bowed his head to Sir Bertram, and gave a wry grin. “My true name is Sir Lancelot du Lac. At your service, Sir Bertram.”
Sir Bertram bowed back, and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Well, good to have you along, Sir Lancelot. I’ll let Lady Morgana know.”
“Me too!” came an eager voice from under the table. “I want to come!”
“Yes, yes,” said Olivia soothingly. “Of course we’ll be taking you, Adolphus. And Ferocious.”
“Quack! And me! Won’t get far without me!” said Vortigern, flapping onto the table. “Need a royal leader, after all!”
Lancelot laughed. “Well – it’s supposed to be only two knights and two squires, but there’s nothing to say how many animals you’re allowed to take. I guess that means we’re all going!”
“Good,” said Sir Bertram. “We’ll make our preparations and be off at first light.”
***
The castle yard was grey and chilly in the light of dawn, full of stamping horses and men in jangling armour. Morgana had come to see the knights off, and wish them well on the quest. They were to reassemble in three days, and if there was no news of Arthur they would assume him lost forever. Max could see her discussing something in low tones with Sir Richard Hogsbottom, who was leading one of the search parties. Beside him was Snotty, and the other knight of their group was…
“Olivia!” said Max, grabbing her by the arm. “Is that Gawaine?!”
She narrowed her eyes, and then nodded.
“What’s he doing here? He should be in the dungeons!”
“It seems he was under an enchantment,” said Sir Bertram. “Can’t be blamed. Lady Morgana took it off him, and he said he wanted to join the search – help as much as he could. The knights have agreed he can take Excalibur along to give back to Arthur if he finds him.”
Max watched Gawaine, standing blankly by his horse.
“It doesn’t look much like she took the enchantment off,” he said. “He still looks thoroughly enchanted to me.”
“I think so too,” said a voice nearby, and they turned to see Merlin, who had quietly joined them in the castle yard.
“Merlin!” said Max. “What’s been happening? Are you coming with us?”
Merlin grimaced. “I can’t. I need to stay here and keep an eye on Morgana. I underestimated her badly, it seems, and I need to be ready for any other plans she might have. But there is another reason.” He lowered his voice. “Max, I am pretty sure Arthur has gone to the Lady. Morgana was not powerful enough to completely remove the magic that bound Excalibur to Arthur. In the end the sword would not kill him – I think it sent him to her, wounded, no doubt, but alive. It is there you will find him. But I cannot come with you. I promised the Lady a while ago that the next time I set foot on her island it would be to stay for good.”
“For good? But you can’t!” said Max, shocked.
“Indeed,” said Merlin, rather sadly. “I am needed too much here. But one day…”
There was a faraway look in his eyes, and Max got the impression that for Merlin, staying on the Lady’s island for good would be like a clear draught of water to a thirsty man.
“Max! Olivia! Time to go!” said Sir Bertram, leading up the horses. Merlin leaned urgently in to Max.
“The Lady’s island is not where you saw it last. It moves. And it’s tricky to find, you need to look beyond the surface of things. And be ready for whatever challenges may come. Use this –” He handed Max a small silver ring. “It is a gift from her. It will pull you towards the island. Of course, Sir Richard and Sir Gawaine will be on your tail. They have Excalibur’s magic to guide them. And if they get to Arthur first, he will not return alive.”
Max nodded, and pocketed the ring. As Max mounted his horse, Merlin also handed a small folded piece of parchment up to him.
“A swift,” he said, in a low voice. “Send it to me if you have great need. And keep your wits about you!”
He smiled then, and held Max’s gaze.
“You can do it, you and Olivia and the others. I know you can. Take care!”
There was a loud peal from the royal hunting horn, and the gathering of knights raised their swords in the air and shouted, “For Arthur!” before they set off in a great stream of horses and men and squires, across the drawbridge and out into the kingdom on their quest for the king.
***
Within a very short time, the crowd of knights that had left Camelot had dispersed in different directions, and Sir Bertram’s little troop found themselves ambling alone along a leafy green lane, the sky bright blue behind the trees and a gentle breeze encouraging the leaves to dance and twist in the branches overhead. Every time the road forked or met a crossroads, Max could feel the faintest tug from the ring on his finger, pointing them in the right direction.
He was feeling quietly optimistic. They knew where they were going, and the Lady would keep Arthur safe till they got there. They had three whole days before they had to get back to Camelot. Surely that would be enough time?
There was a squeal from overhead, and Adolphus very nearly knocked Max off his horse. He and Vortigern were having a flying competition, dodging in and out of the beeches that lined the road. They were seeing who could fly through the most trees while breaking off the least number of branches. So far, Adolphus, being quite a bit larger and clumsier, was down by forty-two branches to Vortigern’s none, and Max wondered with a grin whose idea the competition had been.
“Whoopee! One more!” cried Adolphus as he flew straight into a beech and a great limb of the tree came crashing down onto the path ahead of them.
“Adolphus!” said Olivia crossly, dismounting to
clear the branch out of the way. “You’re supposed to be trying not to knock the branches off!”
“Oh, sorry, am I?” said Adolphus. “Oops! I’ll be more careful!”
Ferocious groaned. “Will someone please just turn them both into frogs and stuff them in a saddlebag?”
Lancelot laughed. “Oh, leave them alone, Ferocious. We could do with a bit of entertainment. Take our minds off whatever Morgana le Fay has in store for us – if we actually succeed in the quest.
Max looked over at Lancelot. Despite the danger they were in he thought that he had never seen Lancelot look happier. Perhaps it was because he was allowed to be himself at last – a real knight. He seemed completely at home in his armour, his sword by his side, his eyes bright and alert in his crooked face.
At that moment, there was a crash and a splintering sound in the trees ahead, and the next second a huge knight in black armour came charging out of the woods and pointed his lance at them.
“Halt! I challenge all who pass! Fight me, strange knights, if you wish to continue!”
“Quack!” yelped Vortigern, who had almost flown straight into the sharp end of the stranger’s lance, while Adolphus did a triple somersault and landed in a heap in front of the black knight’s horse.
Fights and Magic
“Oh, I say – is that Adolphus?” said the knight, and raised his visor for a better look.
“Flame and thunder!” exclaimed Sir Bertram. “Peverell! What are you doing here?”
“Bertie!” shouted the strange knight, and he lowered his lance and cantered forward. “What a jolly surprise! On a quest, eh? What’s it all about?”
It seemed as good an excuse as any to stop for lunch, and Sir Bertram invited his old friend to join them while he explained what had happened at Camelot. Several meat pies and a few bottles of mead later, Sir Peverell gave a mighty burp and thanked them for the meal.
“Terrible business about the king,” he said, pulling his beard thoughtfully. “Don’t want that awful le Fay woman running things. Disaster. You’d best get on with your quest. But before you go, I’m afraid I really do have to joust one of you. Made a vow, you see. Can’t get out of it.”
