King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3

by K. M. Shea

  She couldn’t help it. She was weighed down by the knowledge of what a loss would mean.

  “Britt.”

  Britt looked to her foster brother. “Yes?”

  “That man down there in the armor,” Sir Kay said, pointing with a thick finger.

  “Yes?”

  “That’s Lancelot.”

  “What?”

  “You are not riding to trounce a tyrant. You’re riding to toss Lancelot from his horse like you have always wanted.”

  Britt started to protest. “I never wanted to throw Lancelot.”

  Sir Kay interrupted, “Britt, that is Lancelot,” he said before he walked off.

  Britt thoughtfully turned her charger, staring at Maleagant at the far end of the field. The soldier raised and lowered his flag, and Britt’s mount leaped into a canter.

  Britt leaned forward slightly, squeezing her legs and urging the horse to go faster. It complied, and Britt thundered down the field at a crazy speed. She was on Maleagant in an instant, and this time it was different.

  When Britt felt her lance hit Maleagant’s shield, she pushed. She pushed her feet down in the stirrups to give herself something to strain against as well as the saddle and used that force to lean into Maleagant. The superior velocity of Britt’s charger made it more difficult to aim, but it also gave her a great deal of more force when she hit Maleagant.

  Every muscle in Britt’s body burned as she pushed in spite of the painful blow Maleagant landed on her shield.

  A split second and it was over.

  Maleagant was knocked from his saddle and went sprawling over the side of his horse, falling to the ground with a clang.

  Britt couldn’t feel her left arm anymore, and she had to prop the lance up on her saddle as her right arm trembled from the exertion.

  Kay walked back to Britt as men hurried to Maleagant’s side. Cheers exploded from Camelgrance, and Guinevere cried and clasped a hand to her chest.

  Maleagant’s men rolled Maleagant onto his back, removing his helm for him. Slowly they sat him up. The fallen knight briefly held his head before he narrowed his eyes and snarled at Britt, “Who are you, champion? I demand to know.”

  Britt couldn’t have asked Maleagant to perform any closer to the dialog Merlin had prepared.

  As Kay reached her side and held her horse, Britt removed her helm. “I am Arthur, King of Camelot, wielder of Excalibur, and ally of King Leodegrance.”

  Maleagant roared and struggled to stand.

  Britt dropped her lance on the ground and pulled Excalibur from its scabbard, using it to point at Maleagant. “I have beaten you twice now, Duke Maleagant. I thought you to be a man of your word, but if you are not I will trounce you a third time, this time with the aid of my men,” she said, thrusting Excalibur towards the sky.

  On cue three different hunting horns from three different directions were sounded. In three different parts of the forest, knights on horseback emerged from the trees, barely visible in the shadows, and spread like three great companies disappearing deep into the forest. On the forest perimeter there were glints of metal where sunlight reflected off armor and weapons.

  Entirely alone, Merlin walked some feet away from the forest. He waved his staff over his head, and fire exploded from the tip, igniting in orange flames that were at least twenty feet tall.

  Maleagant stopped muttering under his breath and stared at the forest with wide eyes.

  “Do you understand what I am saying, Duke Maleagant?” Britt asked, cuing her charger closer to the cheater. “Leave, or this third time I will not be so generous in letting you live,” Brit said, swinging her sword down in an arc to again stab it in his direction.

  Maleagant scrambled for his horse, his men right behind him. “You shall regret this, beardless youth!” Maleagant promised as he rode off, leaving behind tents and equipment.

  Maleagant and his accompanying knights urged their horses faster when the hunting horns were blown again. They disappeared, riding off in the direction of Duke Maleagant’s lands, and Britt slumped in her saddle.

  “I can’t believe they bought that,” she said, sliding Excalibur back into its scabbard.

  “Merlin is a fox,” Sir Kay said in explanation.

  “Arthur! I am delighted to have such a close ally protecting Camelgrance, it is good fortune that you brought your army with you,” King Leodegrance said, riding up to Britt with a greasy smile.

  “Of course,” Britt said, lying through her teeth.

  There was no army.

  While Britt fought Maleagant and distracted everyone Merlin and the rest of the knights were busy planting shields, swords, and any piece of reflective metal they had in the forest. (There was a small hoard thanks to King Pellinore’s obsession with jousting and taking shields from those he defeated.) The small group of fifteen knights then carefully planted themselves in three different groups, spreading out and doing their best to fade into the forest to give the illusion that were more of them than there really were. Kay’s horse, Merlin’s horse, and Llamrei were used to bulk up the numbers. The forest was far enough away that when placed in the back no one would be able to tell that those particular horses were without riders.

  Not, of course, that they were going to tell Leodegrance any of this. Who knew how the idiot would run his mouth to Maleagant.

  “Will you stay with us for a time? I am sure Camelgrance cannot match the magnificence of Camelot, but I would like to express my gratitude. Have you met my daughter, Guinevere? You must have or you would not have acted as her champion,” King Leodegrance said.

  “I and a small group of my knights would take pleasure in remaining at Camelgrance for the night,” Britt said as Kay signaled to Merlin and the others that all was well. “And yes, I have met Lady Guinevere, although I must correct you. I acted as Camelgrance’s champion,” Britt said, politely bowing from the saddle to Guinevere.

  Gone was Guinevere’s sappy smile. Instead she looked perplexed as she studied Britt.

  “Of course, of course you must claim so. I will not pretend to understand young love. Come inside, we must feast and toast to your win,” King Leodegrance said, turning his back to Britt to cut off her objections to his statements.

  Britt frowned and looked at Sir Kay.

  “You said it was for the people, not their ruler,” Sir Kay reminded her.

  “I know. I just wish the ruler would leave me out of it,” Britt muttered, following Leodegrance into Camelgrance.

  Chapter 6

  Going Home

  “Are you sure you require no more assistance, My Lord?” Gawain asked, setting aside the last of Britt’s armor.

  “I’m sure. I must apologize, I did not mean to make you act as my squire for this trip,” Britt said, wincing as she flexed her left arm.

  “I am aware of that, My Lord. But it is my pleasure to serve you any way I can.”

  “Thank you, Gawain,” Britt said.

  “You’re welcome, My Lord,” Gawain said, bowing before he slipped out of the room.

  Britt groaned as she started struggling out of the padding she wore under her armor. Her muscles ached, and getting down to her loose underclothes made them burn again.

  Someone knocked on the door. “Arthur,” Merlin said, opening the door. He shrieked a little when he saw Britt was still struggling out of the padding and slammed the door shut.

  Britt wrenched off the last of the padding. “There’s no need to be squeamish, Merlin. I’m still wearing clothes,” Britt said, using a leather cord to pull her hair back in a perky ponytail.

  Merlin didn’t reply, and Britt heaved her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head as she slipped on a doublet and buttoned it up. It wasn’t her padded one she normally used to flatten out her chest, so her female body showed, but Britt didn’t care. Her sides ached horribly, and Britt wouldn’t be expected to join in the festivities for at least half an hour to an hour. She could wear whatever she pleased as long as Merlin and Kay were the only on
es who saw her.

  There was a knock on the door again. “Merlin, I already told you to come in,” Britt said, turning to face the door.

  It opened, and Britt was shocked to see Guinevere instead of Merlin staring back at her. When Guinevere’s eyes widened as she gaped at Britt, Britt realized her mistake.

  Britt swore under her breath, but she was even further shocked when Guinevere stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.

  “I thought it was odd that you wouldn’t give me your proper attention,” Guinevere said, approaching Britt. She placed her hand on Britt’s cheek, feeling her smooth, feminine skin. “Now I know why.”

  “What do you mean?” Britt asked, her mind scrambling. Perhaps she could knock Guinevere out and find Merlin and have him cast some sort of memory spell on her?

  “You are a woman. I have never met a man who is not attracted to me, except for you. I thought perhaps you already had some sort of lover—there are rumors about you and the Lady of the Lake you know—but this makes even more sense,” Guinevere said. She smiled. It was the winning one she used whenever she tried to sway a man’s mind. “Take me with you, or I shall tell my father what you really are.”

  Britt’s fear disappeared, burning like dry twigs from the fire of her rage. “I beg your pardon?”

  “If you do not take me back to Camelot I will tell my father that you are a woman. Word will spread around Britain in a year, and you’ll be ruined,” Guinevere said.

  Britt could hardly believe it. She had been right to hate Guinevere all along. After she had just saved her from Maleagant the brat had the audacity to make threats? “Do you really think that threat frightens me?” Britt asked. (It did, but it affected the small part of Britt’s mind that wasn’t completely infuriated and thus was easily forgotten.) “I just defeated a duke not only in swordplay, but jousting as well. I singlehandedly drove off an enemy your father was too frightened to confront. I have been through a war, broken off powerful enchantments laid upon my men, and survived an attempt against my life. Do you really think the hissings of one silly girl will move me? Please, I am not your father,” Britt scoffed.

  Guinevere swallowed. “I’ll tell Merlin.”

  “As if he didn’t already know,” Britt laughed. “He’s a wizard. If you think he doesn’t know you are even more simple-minded than I estimated. No, most of my powerful friends know of my secret, princess. Tell me, have you ever made yourself an enemy out of a faerie enchantress? I’m certain Nymue, the Lady of the Lake you previously referred to, would love to take you on. She dislikes stupidity just as much as I do.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Guinevere said, tucking her chin like a mulish horse.

  “You are. You are thoughtless, self centered, and your idiocy is in abundance if you think threats will force me to bow to you,” Britt said, taking a step closer to Guinevere.

  She towered over the princess, and the distaste in her eyes and the dark tilt of her head made Guinevere stumble backwards.

  “Your enemies will care. King Lot, King Urien,” Guinevere said, backing up until her back was flush against the door.

  “So?” Britt asked. “I have their sons. And just because you tell them does not mean they will believe you. After all, who will they trust more, the sniveling daughter of a coward or the red dragon who faced them in battle?”

  “Please,” Guinevere whispered.

  “So now you’ve moved on to begging?”

  “Please, don’t leave me here,” Guinevere said, tears filling her eyes. She wasn’t play acting, her face was an unbecoming red color and pinched in the same expression she wore the night Britt found her in the garden.

  Britt sighed and turned away. “Leave me, and tell no one of this,” she said.

  “You don’t understand. I am the fattened calf my father will use for his ambitions. Can’t you have mercy on me?” Guinevere said, grabbing Britt’s arm.

  Britt studied the broken girl. In the legends Guinevere ruined Camelot arm in arm with Lancelot. All her life Britt hated hearing stories about the faithless queen. As far as Britt was concerned, Guinevere never deserved Arthur, and the legendary King was an idiot for never seeing her fickle ways.

  Hours ago she took a vow before her men that she would champion women, and she had. She saved a girl she genuinely disliked. But Britt found she had neither the strength of character nor the smallest drop of mercy that would move her to bring this female disaster into Camelot.

  “I saved you from Maleagant, that is the most I will do for you,” Britt said, brushing the shorter woman off her arm.

  “I’ll do anything. Take me as your servant. I could be a ladies maid, or work as a seamstress,” Guinevere said, her skirts swirling as she cut in front of Britt and grabbed her by the doublet.

  “Guinevere, stop your baseless offers. You are not the type to be pleased with working. You don’t even know how.”

  “I could learn, I will learn. I would rather be a servant who earns a wage and makes her own decisions than be auctioned off to Father’s best offer and forced into slavery.”

  Britt pinched the bridge of her nose. “Getting married is not like being a slave.”

  “You don’t know, you wouldn’t know. Maleagant is not the worst man father is considering for me. He doesn’t care what they are like as long as they are rich and will give him a pretty sum of money for me, or he can call upon them to pull up his breeches when he is in need of saving. I am doomed, Arthur, unless you help me,” Guinevere pleaded.

  “I already have. Leave me,” Britt said pointing to the door.

  Guinevere’s lower lip trembled. “I see now that I was wrong about you. You might be a woman, but you are just as cruel as a man.”

  “Your happiness would cost me a kingdom, I don’t even like you so there is no way I will sacrifice my subjects’ happiness for your own,” Britt said.

  “How can you say that? Father will not lift a finger against you.”

  “Guinevere,” Britt said, her words quiet but sharp like a dagger. “I know what you are like, and I know what you would do. You will have to find another person to save you.”

  Guinevere shook her head. A sob tore from her throat as she threw the door open and tripped into the hallway.

  Britt rubbed her forehead. “I can’t wait to leave this place. Between her and Lancelot I’ll be living not just with insomnia but with a perpetual headache too.”

  “Is not Guinevere beautiful this night, Arthur?” King Leodegrance said, slapping his hand on the table.

  “Of course, My Lord,” Britt said, privately thinking anything but.

  Apparently the lady in question had gone out and sobbed until the celebration started, for she was puffy eyed and red cheeked. She stared at her plate and did not look up, even though King Leodegrance had made his observation at the sound level of a shout.

  “It is such a good thing that you saved her from Maleagant, for I would rather she married for love than fear,” King Leodegrance said.

  “If that is the case I wish her luck in finding love,” Britt said, sipping her wine.

  “But hasn’t she already found it in a staunch champion such as you?”

  “I cannot speak for the lady, but when I championed Camelgrance I must confess I did it for the sake of our friendship,” Britt said.

  King Leodegrance patted Britt on the back. “You are so discreet. I am honored my daughter caught your eye.”

  Britt sighed and looked for her men—they were the only reason she was suffering through this. After the test of courage in putting together the fake army to trick Maleagant she owed it to them to sleep indoors for the night before they set out in the morning.

  Merlin was nowhere to be seen. Lancelot, Gawain, and Ywain were in the center of a crowd of young ladies. King Pellinore and Sir Kay were seated together, deep in conversation. Sir Bedivere and the rest of the knights were eating merrily with abandon.

  Britt sighed and took a bite of the roasted boar sitting on her plate. I
t was dry and tough.

  “I do wish I could call you son, Arthur,” King Leodegrance said.

  Britt offered the older king a slight smile. “I apologize, but I am already quite happy with the father I have.”

  “He is nothing but your foster father. That hardly counts.”

  “Sir Ector has been very kind to me, he is more of a father to me than my real father ever was,” Britt truthfully said. Her father had left her family when she was young. It was why she had been wary of Sir Ector in the first few months of her stay in Britain. But now Britt couldn’t imagine Camelot without her jolly foster father.

  “Then you have no choice but to marry into my family to become my son,” King Leodegrance triumphantly said.

  “I beg your pardon, My Lord, but I must refuse.”

  “Just for now, of course.”

  Britt stared at her wine cup and wondered how soon she could leave the feasting hall. She was almost knocked to the ground when Merlin shoved a seat between Britt and King Leodegrance, pushing the two of them apart.

  “King Leodegrance, I am most eager to ask you about your hay crop. When do you believe you will be able to have the first cut?” Merlin asked, angled so his back was almost entirely facing Britt and acting as a block between the two kings.

  “Greetings, Merlin. I cannot say I am entirely certain of the condition of the hay fields. Tomorrow before you leave would you like to see them?” King Leodegrance asked.

  “No, I was merely curious. It was a mild winter and the peasants at Camelot were hoping for an early first crop of hay. I do not know how likely such a thing is.”

  “Indeed, I echo their hopes. My cattle have produced more offspring than estimated—which is a good thing to be sure but I must have enough hay to feed them all.”

  King Leodegrance rambled on, but Britt shut her eyes and filtered it out. Merlin had rescued her. King Leodegrance respected Merlin—probably even more than he respected Britt. He would happily entertain Merlin as long as the wizard appeared interested, leaving Britt alone.

  In a rush of exuberance Britt slipped her arm under the table, sliding her hand into Merlin’s. She squeezed his fingers, and he gently squeezed her hand in return—acknowledging her gesture—before disengaging his hand and propping it up on top of the table.