by K. M. Shea
She didn’t prick skin, but it hurt enough to make Maleagant fumble again. Britt jumped from the crouch she was in, using all her force to slam Maleagant in the helm with Excalibur’s pommel.
Maleagant’s head snapped backwards, and Britt helped him lie down by pushing on his chest with her forearms.
Britt kicked Maleagant’s sword away, placed her foot on his right wrist, and let the edge of Excalibur rest near a slit in Maleagant’s helm.
King Leodegrance, realizing Britt wasn’t going to talk, spoke for her. “Do you yield to my daughter’s champion, Duke Maleagant?” he eagerly asked, leaning forward off his horse.
Maleagant struggled, roaring with anger instead of replying.
Britt used her foot to kick Maleagant’s arm away from his body—still pinning it to the ground, before pressing Excalibur into his unprotected armpit.
Maleagant finally stilled, although Britt could tell he boiled with anger. His armor heaved up and down as he breathed inside his armor like a murderous dragon.
“I yield,” Maleagant snarled.
Chapter 5
A White Knight
Britt prodded him in the arm pit, letting Excalibur’s sharp tip poke the padding that leaked out under Maleagant’s pauldrons before she stepped back.
Some of Maleagant’s knights ran to their lord’s side, helping him stand even though he kicked at them.
“Now remember, Duke Maleagant. You said you would leave should a champion best you,” King Leodegrance eagerly said, satisfaction lining his voice and face. One could hardly tell a few short minutes ago he was close to sniveling.
Duke Maleagant roared in reply, sounding very much like an angry boar.
Britt retreated to her horse, looking for Merlin and Gawain in the joyful crowd. (Lancelot could rot for all Britt cared.)
Soldiers and subjects alike cheered, clapped, and shouted, making it very difficult to pick anyone out of the crowd.
Britt happened to glance at Guinevere and froze. The princess’s gaze was fastened on Britt. She wore a sickly sweet smile, and her eyes were big and dreamy.
Sensing she ought to make a hasty exit—as much to avoid further confrontation from Maleagant as to avoid getting cornered by Guinevere—Britt mounted her white horse, throwing herself on in an ungainly manner.
She turned the horse towards the distant forests—intending to meet up with her knights rather than return to Camelgrance, which was going to be a deathtrap now. She was just barely within shouting distance when she heard Guinevere call, “Wait, Sir Knight!”
Britt heeled her horse and clung to the saddle as the charger jolted into a canter, swiftly carrying her away.
When she reached the forest Britt checked over her shoulder. No one had followed her. “That’s a miracle,” Britt muttered, directing her horse into the woods. “Although I suppose Leodegrance would ignore me. He doesn’t know I’m Arthur,” Britt said as she wove around trees.
In a few minutes Britt reached the small enclosure where Britt’s company previously pitched their camp. There were still signs of their stay, but there weren’t any horses or gear in sight.
“Where did they go? Merlin said a few knights returned with Sir Bodwain, but at the very least Kay should be hanging around,” Britt said.
Britt’s horse pawed the ground. “Maybe Merlin and Gawain have made it to the edge of the forest by now,” she said, turning the horse in a neat circle before directing him back in the direction they came from.
Rather than follow the same trail, Britt took her mount through a different part of the forest. After all, who knew if Guinevere would beg Leodegrance to send soldiers after her? Britt was so intent on reaching the edge of the woods that she almost missed it, a glimmer of metal among the trees.
Britt halted her horse. “If I’m careful I can investigate it,” she decided, changing directions.
The glint was sunlight bouncing off a shield that was tied to a post.
There was writing on the shield. Britt couldn’t read it, but when she spotted a small pile of shields arranged nearby she could guess what it said. “PELLINORE,” she shouted. “PELLINORE!”
“How do you know my name, mysterious knight?”
Britt whipped around to find Pellinore at her back, dressed in armor and holding his horse’s bridle.
“Although it matters not. If you wish to fight me I will not attempt to talk you out of it. Be warned, though, for I am a fierce warrior,” King Pellinore said.
“What? Pellinore, it’s me,” Britt said, briefly fumbling with her armor so she could remove her helm.
“Oh, Arthur. I am glad to see you are back. Whose horse are you riding?” Pellinore asked, relaxing his stance.
“Never mind that, what does the writing on the shield say?” Britt asked.
Pellinore avoided Britt’s eyes and tucked his chin against his neck.
“Pellinore, what does it say?”
“Whoso smiteth this shield doeth so—,”
“Pellinore,” Britt groaned.
“Your foster brother, Sir Kay, has taken your knights and ridden around Camelgrance these past two days. He asked me to remain behind to watch your equipment and mounts. What was I to do? I had to amuse myself somehow,” Pellinore said.
“I suppose it could have been worse. At least you didn’t run off after the Questing Beast,” Britt sighed. “Where is Kay now?”
“I’m not certain, but he is likely to return soon. Where are Merlin, Sir Gawain, and Sir Lancelot? Did they not find you in Camelgrance?”
“No, we met up. We were separated in the crowd.”
“Crowd?”
“I accepted Maleagant’s challenge and championed King Leodegrance and his family,” Britt said.
“Congratulations on your victory,” Pellinore smiled.
“How did you know I won?”
“You are too skilled to lose,” Pellinore shrugged.
“Arthur?”
Britt looked up to see Sir Kay and the remaining knights leading their horses through the trees. “Kay,” Britt said, flashing the younger man a sincere smile. “I am glad to see you,” she said, sliding off her borrowed horse.
Sir Kay was at her side to steady her when she landed on the ground with a jarring bounce. He traced her armor with narrowed eyes. “You are not hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Britt smiled.
“You should have told me your plans before you left for Camelgrance.”
“You’re right. I should have. It was my mistake, and I am sorry for it,” Britt said.
“Next time please tell me. I will not try to keep you from going, but I would like to accompany you,” Sir Kay said.
Britt placed her hand on his shoulder. “I thank you, and I will remember that.”
Sir Kay nodded and pitched his voice even quieter than usual. “You are not typically so impetuous. Is everything alright?”
Britt hooked her helm on her horse’s tack. “It is. I was conflicted. Leodegrance isn’t exactly how I pictured him.”
“And it bothers you?”
“More than I would like to admit.”
“I say, My Lord. You were the white knight who fought Maleagant, were you not?” Sir Bedivere asked, joining Britt and Kay.
“I was. You saw?” Britt asked.
“We saw,” Ywain said, joining the group with a smile. “You were fabulous, My Lord.”
Sir Bedivere glanced at the younger knight before he added, “We were all posted in various hidden locations surrounding Camelgrance. I was in the forest and was able to see the fight. Not very well, though. Congratulations, as usual you were stupendous.”
“You fought Maleagant?” Sir Kay said.
“Merlin said I could,” Britt quickly said, able to sense the displeasure behind Sir Kay’s statement.
“How did you manage to convince him?” Sir Kay suspiciously asked.
Britt avoided Sir Kay’s gaze. “Well, it was for one of our allies so… Lancelot thought it was a terrific idea,” Br
itt blurted out.
Sir Kay narrowed his eyes.
“He spoke of ballads and troubadours and thought I should challenge Maleagant to a joust instead of a sword fight,” Britt said.
Sir Kay looked into the forest. “Where is Sir Lancelot now?”
Having managed to redirect Sir Kay’s ire, Britt almost sighed in relief. “He’s with Merlin and Gawain. I imagine they’ll be here soon. They are on foot.”
“Humph,” Sir Kay said before striding off.
“I suspect the army will no longer be necessary based on the outcome of your battle with Maleagant. Correct, My Lord?” Sir Bedivere asked.
“Perhaps,” Britt said. “I’m not convinced Maleagant will stay true to his word. Is there any news from Sir Bodwain?”
“None. He only left for home yesterday morn. It will be a week at the earliest before he would be able to arrive with any men,” Sir Bedivere said.
“I was afraid of that,” Britt said. “How many knights remained here?” Britt asked, trying to count the swirl of armor clad knights.
“Fifteen, including Gawain and Lancelot, My Lord.”
“What-ho. Greetings companions!”
Britt ground her teeth and forced her expression into a smile. “Lancelot, so you’ve returned. Hello, Merlin, hello, Gawain,” Britt said as the trio trooped out of the woods and into the camp.
“I must say, My Lord, that was an astounding fight. I never thought I would live to see someone so skilled as you! You are far better at swordplay than I. Some time—assumedly when we return to Camelot—would you mind watching my form? I would greatly appreciate any advice you could give me. Oh, hello Sir Kay,” Lancelot chattered.
Britt almost wished the chattery knight had claimed to be a better swordsman than her. It would give her another reason to hate him. Instead she was forced to settle for joyfully watching the stone-faced Kay step in front of Lancelot.
Sir Kay studied the younger knight for a few minutes before making a derogatory “Hm,” and walking off.
Lancelot looked to Gawain, who ignored the exchange and bowed to Britt. “You did wonderfully well, My Lord.”
“You were lucky, that’s what you were,” Merlin griped. “One day you are going to meet someone better than you, and they will teach you a lesson.”
“What? Nonsense,” Ywain protested.
“Forgive me for saying so, Merlin, but I cannot agree with you,” King Pellinore said. “Arthur isn’t just skilled, he’s as gifted as one of God’s warriors.”
“Hear, hear,” Sir Bedivere nodded.
Merlin scowled, and it was Gawain who intervened. “Pardon me, Merlin, but you have not faced My Lord with a sword, nor would you understand as we do for you have your magic arts. When one faces My Lord and he is serious, it makes his family heritage show.”
“It makes his faerie blood show. I met Uther. He did not have the talent his son possesses. No, our young dragon has no equal when it comes to the sword, Merlin. Do not worry over such a thing,” King Pellinore said.
Merlin turned to Britt. “Do not let what they say go to your head. You would still be quite easy to kill,” he warned her.
“I know,” Britt sighed. “What happened after I left?”
Merlin snorted. “A chaotic mess. The lady Guinevere was dreamy eyed and sappy as every other maiden in the crowd. Maleagant roared more than necessary, and King Leodegrance grew a bit of a backbone since you won. Maleagant is, of course, demanding to know your identity, as is Lady Guinevere.”
“Do you think Maleagant will honor his word and leave?” Britt asked.
“Of course he will,” Lancelot said. “He can hardly take back his vow, and you defeated him so soundly!”
Gawain looked unconvinced and Merlin said, “I do not hold the same conviction as you, Sir Lancelot. I suspect he will try to wiggle out of it.”
“So what do we do now?” Ywain asked.
“We will spend the night here. As we will not have daylight much longer it hardly makes sense to begin our journey now, and I would feel better knowing what Maleagant is doing,” Merlin frowned.
“In the morning King Arthur and an escort group will set out. A small remnant can remain behind to observe Duke Maleagant’s movements,” Sir Kay said, his voice as strong as iron.
Merlin nodded, “A wise thought, Sir Kay. I am forced to agree with you.”
“Someone will need to return the merchant’s horse and armor to him,” Britt said.
“Trivialities. Do not worry your head over such things,” Merlin said.
“Well I’m starved. Who is up for a bit of hunting for our supper?” Ywain said.
“Ahh, hunting is such a great sport. I would be honored to join, should no one object,” Lancelot said.
“Please, by all means,” Britt said, eager to get the knight out of sight.
“Shall I help you remove your armor, My Lord?” Gawain asked.
“Yes, if you do not mind. You have my thanks, Gawain.”
“Of course, My Lord.”
It wasn’t yet dawn when Britt woke Sir Kay.
“Kay, you said you wanted me to tell you next time,” Britt whispered.
Sir Kay rubbed his face and his voice was rough with sleep. “You just got out of that blasted castle, are you so eager to return to it?”
Britt chuckled. “No. I don’t plan to leave the woods, but I want to see if Maleagant and his men are still camped out at Camelgrance’s front door.”
Sir Kay shut his eyes for a moment before he stood and stretched. “Very well, let us go.”
“I’m surprised you are letting me leave the camp,” Britt said as the two left the encampment and plunged into the trees.
“I thought of tying you up or refusing, but if I do that it is unlikely you will ever tell me your movements again,” Sir Kay dryly said.
Britt laughed and hopped over a fallen tree.
“Please explain to me, My Lord. If you are unsure of Leodegrance why does Maleagant offend you so?” Sir Kay asked.
“It’s the people of Camelgrance I worry for, as well as Guinevere’s plight.”
“I did not know you liked her so.”
“I don’t,” Britt darkly said. “She’s a silly girl who is empty-headed and downright worthless.”
Sir Kay waited for further explanation in silence.
“But… even so, she doesn’t deserve being married to a man like Maleagant. I knew that before I faced him in combat. Only a greedy jerk would demand from Leodegrance what he has, plus he’s in King Ryence’s pocket, which isn’t a good sign,” Britt said, her speech lapsing as she spoke with Sir Kay—the only knight she could relax around.
Sir Kay held a branch back so Britt could pass by unhindered. “Camelgrance is not your responsibility, My Lord.”
“I know,” Britt sighed. After a few moments of silence she asked, “Did Ywain give you any trouble while I was gone? I doubt he happily stayed behind with you.”
“Let me say that you probably enjoyed your time in Camelgrance more than I.”
“Ahh, but I had Sir Lancelot the brat with me,” Britt said.
“Even so,” Sir Kay said, frowning so deeply his mustache could not hide it. “I ask that you would try to keep your distance from him.”
“From Ywain?”
“No. Lancelot.”
“I have no issues with that suggestion,” Britt snorted. “But for the sake of my curiosity, why?”
“He is smarter than he acts.”
“Are you kidding? He’s a flirtatious twerp who needs a good smack.”
“I do not understand all of what you say,” Sir Kay said. “But he is crafty. Make no mistake, My Lord. You cannot let your guard down with him, even with your distaste.”
“What makes you wary of him?”
“He is too well spoken and too well liked. Although he is scant months older than Gawain he has the presence of a full knight and is not easily cowed. If he was the idiot he appeared to be he would not last a month adventuring in
Britain.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Think, Britt. Would Ywain or Griflet last long in the wild?” Sir Kay said.
“No,” Britt finally said.
“He chatters to cover his observations. Please, be careful, My Lord.”
“Alright. You have never steered me wrong, I will watch my step with the dull Sir Lancelot. Ah, here we go,” Britt said as the trees started to thin.
In the dusty, pink glow from the horizon, Britt could see tents were still pitched in front of Camelgrance.
“They are still there,” Britt said, not entirely surprised.
“The portcullis of Camelgrance is down again, I think,” Kay said, squinting in what little light was available.
Britt sighed. “I didn’t think he would take his defeat well.”
“What do you mean to do?”
Britt glanced at her supposed foster brother. “What do you mean? I thought I was getting packed up and sent back to Camelot today whether I wanted to leave or not.”
“You are king, My Lord,” Sir Kay said.
Britt watched smoke rise from a campfire near the tents. “I would like to speak to Merlin and see what he advises. If Sir Bodwain and our reinforcements will not arrive for awhile I don’t like the idea of leaving just yet.”
“As you wish, My Lord.”
“Sir Kay, thank you,” Britt said. “I know I put you through a lot, but I am truly thankful for your support.”
“It is my honor, My Lord.”
“Is it really? I know the way Arthur, the real Arthur, abandoned his duties hurt you. I’m sure you would rather be going through this with him than with me,” Britt said. “He was your foster brother.”
“And you are my foster sister,” Sir Kay said. “Both of you are dear to me. I am truly happy to serve you, Britt.”
“Thank you, Kay.”
“I don’t like it,” Merlin declared from the back of his spindly legged horse.
“What part of it?” Britt asked, patting Llamrei on the neck as Merlin wove his horse between the trees at the edge of the forest and peered out at Camelgrance.
“All of it,” Merlin said, waving his hands at the camp. It was mid morning, and even from the forest one could see Maleagant’s knights walking through their camp.
