Behind them, the wagons careened out of control, smashing into each other and then crashing into the hard, packed earth.
Bennett grinned. “Excellent! My arrows worked!”
One of the only unclear parts of the plan was establishing how Gavin was supposed to make it back, a problem that was eventually solved with Gavin saying “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” All Maddie could do now was hope and pray Gavin figured something out.
Regardless of Gavin’s outcome, everyone chasing them appeared to have crashed, and for a moment Maddie dared to hope that they might make it back to the forest safely.
Then they heard the first gunshots.
Everyone turned and looked at each other in amazement, then turned back outside. “What the...” said Lance slowly.
What Maddie saw should have been impossible: It was Cesar, the Captain of the guard. One of his arms was in a sling and he looked like an absolute wreck, with his clothes ripped, his nose and face bloody, and his entire body covered in dirt. Maddie was amazed the horse could keep up with them until she realized with horror that he was bleeding at the side: Cesar had been hammering him brutally with his heels. The poor creature was frothing at the mouth in exhaustion.
If Cesar had looked deranged before, it was nothing compared to now. He had transformed into a creature of pure hate, a spirit of vengeance. Maddie had never seen somebody look as vindictive as Cesar did at that moment. Riding now with no arms he took another shot at the wagon as Maddie dove to the ground with the rest of the theatre troupe.
Grudgingly, Maddie did have to admit that Cesar’s riding was extremely impressive. With no hand on the reins any longer the wagon started to careen out of control, slowly drifting sideways.
Maddie had been near the side entrance of the wagon when the shooting started, and didn’t have enough time to scramble away before Cesar spotted her. He gave a malignant smile and aimed the gun at her head.
Then Fox stood up in front of Maddie. He stared directly at Cesar and gave a long, high-pitched whistle.
Maddie’s eyes widened. “Fox! What are you doing! Get down!”
But Fox kept whistling, almost as if in a trance. Maddie couldn’t hear Cesar clearly, but he appeared to be laughing. Then the look on his face changed.
Maddie felt the wagon start to shake, even more than it was already doing. Then she heard it: A dull thump.
And it got louder. And louder.
Cesar turned around and screamed. Maddie gasped.
A massive white Shepherd dog, larger even than a wolf, with icy blue eyes was chasing after Cesar with supernatural speed. What he was doing could hardly even be called running; it was more like taking giant leaps. The dog was what was causing the earth to shake.
The identity of the dog struck Maddie like a thunderbolt. Cabal? King Arthur’s dog?
Was it even possible?
Whatever the identity of the dog, Maddie could tell Cesar was caught, and he seemed to realize it as well. He turned back towards the wagon and raised his gun again, intent on getting off one last shot before he met his fate.
Maddie closed her eyes as the dog leaped. There was a terrible growl, louder even than the noise of the creaking caravan, so loud it cut through the ringing in her ears from Cesar’s gunshots. It was a horrible sound.
Maddie waited a few seconds before opening her eyes. Cesar was no longer alongside of them. Maddie checked behind them, then did a doubletake; he was, in fact, nowhere to be seen. Cesar, his horse, and the great white Shepherd dog had all disappeared, as if they had never been there at all.
Maddie turned towards Lance. “Lance, come and take a look at—”
But Lance wasn’t paying attention to Maddie. He was looking at the ground. Maddie turned towards Lance’s gaze and gasped, horrified.
Fox had not gotten up. A pool of blood was spreading slowly from underneath his shirt. Cesar had gotten off his last shot after all.
CHAPTER 35
As chariots went bursting through the town gateway, Gavin rose from the dust and dirt with an unholy scream of rage. It was less than a minute since the theater wagon rode through, and the chariots were gaining every second—and that was why Gavin was waiting. He was a patient man, but it was still no picnic to sit alone all day baking in the sun while everybody else performed their tasks in the village, and the opportunity for action was a release.
The first arrow he fired whipped through the chariot’s wheels. Bennett’s ingenious system of knots caught between the spokes and sent the chariot tumbling down. The one behind it was forced to swerve out of the way, tilted precariously, and followed its brother into the ground.
The final group of charioteers paid more attention and managed to avoid the pile, but a second arrow did its job. In less than a minute, all three chariots were smashed.
Most of the soldiers were too dazed, or too injured, to move. One managed to turn in Gavin’s direction. He had just enough time to give a yell and rush forward before an arrow hit him in the shoulder, causing him to collapse in pain.
The other soldiers had the good sense to simply flee. Only two managed to keep their wits and courage about them. One of them, who appeared to have a sling on his left arm, amazingly managed to mount one of the horses bareback and go off galloping towards the wagon. Gavin fired an arrow, but it was too late. The rider was long gone, and Gavin had bigger problems.
One last man remained after the crash, and Gavin recognized him immediately from Brand’s description: Count Dima. His face was contorted with anger. He pulled out a sword from a scabbard at his side and started walking slowly in Gavin’s direction.
Gavin hit him with an arrow directly in the chest, sure that the shot was fatal. Dima stumbled back a half step, grimaced in pain, and ripped the arrow out. Gavin fired again and again, wasting his last two arrows, but each time Dima simply ripped them from his flesh.
He sped up as he walked. “Foolish boy! You think your arrows can kill me? You think me a mortal man? I am not! I am darkness!” His face started to contort, the color rushing away until he was as pale as a corpse. “I am your nightmare!” He jerked his head to the side as fangs started forming in his mouth. “I am death itself!”
Gavin remembered Fox’s warning from the forest: Vampires. He started hyperventilating. He wanted to run but found himself unable to get his feet to do more than stumble backward. His mind flashed to another day, years ago, an army of undead soldiers bearing down on him and his friends, transforming into flying, bloodthirsty monsters, scratching and biting…
He forced himself to calm down and look around. One of the horses had wandered off after the crash and was only a few yards away. Perhaps he could make it and take off before the night fell and the vampire got the ability to transform. The sun was already getting low in the sky, and Dima was only feet away.
Dima noticed him glance at the horse and gave a terrible smile. “Do you wish to try and run, coward? Oh, don’t think I don’t know who you are. You are the coward knight. The knight who ran. Well, run again! Perhaps you’ll make it. Perhaps not. But the night is almost here. Your friends will die either way!”
It was the vampire’s first mistake. Gavin thought back to that terrible night, many years ago, the day he abandoned his friend. He thought of Lance, finding him in the Scottish highlands and nursing him back to health, and of Fox’s address to him in the forest: Sir Gavin.
Gavin turned towards the vampire and stood up straight. He drew a short knife from his side. He knew he couldn’t kill Dima, but perhaps he could slow him down. “I am Sir Gavin Erewood,” he said, more confident than he really felt. “I am a Knight of Avalon, servant to the Pendragon of Britain. And I do not abandon my friends. Make your stand here, monster.”
Dima’s smile grew wider. “With pleasure.” He rushed towards Gavin with inhuman speed, mouth opened impossibly wide, snarling like an animal. Gavin waited until the last possible second then turned to the side, slashing outward with his knife. Despite his desperate gambit, Di
ma’s sword managed to slice him across the chest: Not a deep blow, but a painful one. Gavin cried out; blood spilled onto the dry earth.
And time froze.
Gavin blinked, mystified. The adrenaline of battle was still coursing through him, and he was still unsure of what course of action to take. Curious, he walked up to the frozen body of Dima and poked it. It was as hard as a rock. He tried to kick the dirt beneath and found it immobile as well. Then he noticed something.
The blood that had spilled from his chest onto the packed earth was…smoking?
Gavin stared in amazement as the shadowy form of a woman materialized from the smoke. In front of him she grew and solidified until at last a fully formed, strikingly beautiful lady stood before him, dressed in the finest clothes he had ever seen. She gave him a radiant smile. “Well done, Sir Gavin Erewood.”
Gavin tried to think of something to say. He wanted to say “But I didn’t do anything yet! The vampire is still alive! And how are you even here?”
What came out of his mouth was “…What?”
“I am the Lady of the Lake,” said the woman gracefully. “The lakes and rivers of Britain have long since died or shrunken, but the times are changing, and I am at heart a blood creature. I can return through the blood of one of the heroes of Avalon—your blood, Sir Gavin. You have proven your worth.”
Gavin thought back to one of Fox’s stories from earlier, the one titled “Lady in Waiting”. “Ummmm... okay. So why are you here?”
“I do not have the power to aid you in your fight, but I can arm you for it. I give you, Sir Gavin, a sword.” And out from the smoke on the ground, as if out of thin air, she drew a brilliant, glistening broadsword. She handed it to Gavin. It was lighter than he thought it would be, and exceptionally well balanced. He looked at it in wonder. “Is this—”
“Excalibur? No. That sword is for the Pendragon only. This was the sword of Sir Gawaine, your namesake. It had no name; that choice is yours.”
Gavin looked the sword over. “I shall call it… Scar.”
The Lady looked surprised. “Because using it, you will scar your enemies?”
Gavin shook his head, still looking at the sword. “No. Because the scar on my chest will remind me daily of what it means to be a knight.”
The Lady nodded thoughtfully. “An interesting choice.” She looked at the vampire with distaste. “This sword is made of Holy Silver, a metal common to the royalty and Knighthood in Arthur’s time but lost since the death of Charlemagne; with it, you can wound even the undead.” She turned again to Gavin. “Do you understand?”
Gavin nodded. “I do.” He had no idea how he was supposed to be able to stab a creature that moved as supernaturally fast as Dima, but at least he had a shot. Gavin lifted Scar high into the air, then looked at the lady and, struck by a spontaneous impulse, went down on one knee. “Thank you, my Lady.”
The Lady smiled. “And for that, young knight, you get one last gift, and one use of it… check your satchel later for Sacred Cargo.”
“Wait! What’s that supposed to mean?”
But the Lady was already dissolving, and did not answer. And the world became real again.
The pain in his chest came back with an almost blinding force, and Gavin nearly dropped the sword. He took two deep breaths to focus himself and stood up straight to face Dima.
Luckily for him, Dima had paused in puzzlement. “That sword… that was not there a second ago. Where did you get it?”
Gavin held the sword out in front of him with both hands. He had no idea how he was supposed to use it. “This is a sword of Holy Silver, given to me by the Lady of the Lake. Your death has come, monster.”
The vampire’s eyes widened. “The Lady of the Lake? Impossible! Unless…” He looked down at the blood. Gavin stared him down.
“That’s right. Come here and face your doom.”
The vampire’s face was twisted into a grimace of hatred and rage. “I am Death! If that Witch thinks magic swords can kill me, she can think again!” And one more time Dima charged with supernatural speed. The sun was nearly set, and Gavin swore that he looked more animal than he had a moment ago.
Gavin felt strangely calm. “A magic sword might not be able to kill you, but a Knight of Avalon can.” He stood with the sword pointed in Dima’s direction. The vampire, smart enough not to run straight into it, ran to Gavin’s left and lashed outward.
But Gavin had anticipated this. At the last moment, he ducked, then pushed out his blade at knee level. The vampire tumbled into the ground, howling in pain. He tried to stagger to his feet, but could barely manage it; this time the wounds in his legs did not heal.
And Gavin could tell he was going to win the fight. The vampire, who had acted too rashly in his rage, seemed to know it too. Dima did not—Gavin thought could not—try to run, but held up his own sword and started speaking.
“Knight of Avalon! I shun you, shun you and all you stand for. I reject your God. I reject your Pendragon. You think you, your sword, your Lady can kill me, but I do not die! I AM death! And I hate you, yes, you, your silly quests and heroes. There are no heroes, no men of good will, only men like me, me, your nightmare, your…”
Gavin stood back as Dima hobbled towards him. He listened to his speech with pity. Gavin realized there was no longer a man there, but simply hatred and rage wrapped in a corpse. It was an act of kindness when Gavin waited for Dima to be in reach of his sword, ducked beneath his blow, and thrust his own blade through the vampire’s heart. He died with his last curse frozen on his lips.
There was nobody else around. The sun had just about set, and Gavin could see the stars.
Gavin looked down at his satchel. He still didn’t know what “Sacred Cargo” was supposed to mean, but he had the strong feeling that he was not supposed to open his bag—not yet. He looked around the area until he found an uninjured horse. Riding bareback was painful, but Gavin didn’t mind all that much. In fact, it was the most pleasant ride he had taken in a very long time.
CHAPTER 36
Maddie looked around wildly. “Well? Someone do something!”
Maddie knew how to clean up open wounds and make stitches, but she had never dealt with a bullet wound before, especially not from a bullet that apparently was still stuck in the body. She felt utterly helpless watching Fox lying there unmoving.
Isabella, of all people, stepped forward. “Stand aside, Miss. I am trained in basic medical care. I’ve dealt with bullet wounds before.”
She knelt down at Fox’s side. Maddie, not caring at all about the blood, knelt down at the other. She felt someone else kneel down beside her and realized only vaguely that it was Bennett. She felt tears in her eyes but for the first time in months she didn’t care who noticed. “Is he—Is he—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
Isabella had ripped open his shirt and put her hand over his heart. To Maddie’s great surprise, Fox’s eyes fluttered open and he spoke. “Madd... ie...” he said weakly. “What... happened?”
Maddie’s tears were flowing freely now. “You’re going to be okay, Fox, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine. Isabella will help you.”
Isabella looked at the bullet wound critically. “It’s a gut shot. Those can be very tricky. Relatively small bullet, and it seems to have remained in one piece.” She looked at Maddie. “We need to act quickly. I need you to keep your hands on the wound to staunch the bleeding. Do not let up the pressure. Right now the biggest danger is Fox bleeding out. And try to keep him awake.” Isabella turned to Bennett. “You...”
“Bennett.”
“Yes, Bennett. You need to—and I cannot emphasize this enough—HOLD HIM STILL. It’s not going to be easy. We have no anesthetic. But I need it if Fox is going to survive.” Bennett nodded grimly.
Isabella looked around at the members of the theatre troupe, some of whom were crying. “Are there any tweezers, needles, and threads here?”
One of the costume women turned to an ol
d wooden chest and started digging. “Yes, we keep them in here.” In seconds she handed the required items to Isabella, who looked at Maddie and said “Get him distracted. This is going to hurt.”
But Maddie didn’t need to do anything. Fox had gone into a trance.
“I... I see the last…” Fox mumbled, starting to close his eyes. Maddie grabbed Fox’s hand, the other pressing harder on his wound, and squeezed.
“Fox, don’t close your eyes. Just—just look at me, okay?”
Fox’s eyes fluttered open again.
“You see the... the last? Maddie continued, “the last what, can you tell me that?”
“The last knights,” Fox answered, his head hitting the floor of the wagon again, whimpering as Isabella tried to pull out the bullet with tweezers. Maddie was baffled.
“We’re going to be the last knights? We know, Fox, we’re going to find Michael—”
“No!” Fox sat up again suddenly, and Isabella looked at Bennett.
“You need to keep him still!”
“I’m trying!” said Bennett. He forced Fox to lay back down.
Maddie remembered her father when she was sick. How he talked to her. She tried to channel some of him. “Fox, it’s okay,” Maddie said through her tears. “Who are the last knights? Tell me about them, I want to know. Please, Fox, focus on the story. Please.” On the last word she choked back a sob.
Fox, with labored breath, locked eyes with Maddie. “I see them... at the end of the world... monsters...”
CHAPTER 37
Understudies of Camelot by L. Jagi Lamplighter
Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. (Psalm 139:8-10)
Tales of the Once and Future King Page 32
