Sword of Camelot

by Gilbert L. Morris

  Reb instantly spurred the bay he was riding so that he could grab the bridle of Abigail's mare. “You settle down there, girl!” he said sharply to the horse.

  The mare gave him a cautious look and seemed to agree.

  “See, all she needed was a good firm hand.”

  Abbey smiled at him with admiration, seeming to forget her irritation. “You're the best rider I ever saw, Reb! The rest of us can barely stay on, but you seem like you were just born in the saddle.”

  Reb flushed with pleasure. He, along with the rest of the boys, had been smitten with Abigail's good looks from the time she joined them.

  Now he said, as modestly as he could, “Well, never was a horse couldn't be rode—never was a rider couldn't be throwed.” He grinned broadly, his teeth very white in his tan face. “I guess I found a few of those that couldn't be rode, but I done pretty good at the rodeos.”

  “You were a rodeo star?”

  “Well, I don't know about the ‘star’ part. I won the state championship in my age group two years running at bronco riding.” As he thought back to those times, sadness crossed his face. “I did pretty good at steer wrestling too—but that's all gone.”

  He rode silently for a while, then glanced over his shoulder. The rest of the party was plodding along. The horses were weary with the day's long journey. Then he looked ahead and asked, “Do you ever wish we were back again where we used to be, Abbey?”

  Giving him a startled look, she said, “Yes, I wish that almost all the time, Reb. But I didn't think you did.”

  “Why would you think that? I'm no different from anybody else.”

  Abbey could no more keep from flattering a member of the male species than she could keep from breathing. Besides, there was truth in what she said. “Oh, Reb, you are so self-sufficient! Of course, Josh is too, I suppose, and Dave and the others—but they're not like you. Why, look at how you've had to take over on this two-week trip! You had to teach us how to ride and how to take care of the horses. And that map—why, you knew how to follow that even better than Josh and Dave did.”

  “Oh, I just been around horses more. Grew up with 'em, you might say. I had my own pony when I was only six and never got off a horse until…”

  Abbey shot him a quick glance. “You mean until you went into the sleep capsule?” When he nodded, she sighed. “I know. I think of those days all the time. Oh, Reb, I had so much fun!”

  “What kind of fun, Abbey?”

  “Oh, parties—and I was a cheerleader and just getting real good at it. It was fun at school! I was elected class president—and I tried out for a part in a play. I would have gotten it too.”

  She thought about that time and shook her head sadly. “But that's all over now.”

  “I guess so. We can't go back.”

  The trees formed a living corridor of trunks that wound through the deep forest. The sun shone overhead and came down in filtered bars of yellow that made the riders blink. The deep silence of the woods was broken only by the occasional, far-off sound of birds. But more than once they surprised deer, which threw up their heads and bounded away.

  Behind the two in the lead, the other five riders sat their horses in weary silence. They had risen at sunrise, cooked a quick breakfast, and traveled all morning. At midday they stopped to rest the horses and themselves, and they had eaten the cold sandwiches they had packed in their knapsacks. Now the sun was declining.

  * * *

  Josh kicked his horse into a trot until he was riding beside Sarah. “I hope we get to Camelot pretty soon. We're just about out of food.”

  “Well, according to the map we ought to be there tomorrow.”

  He gave her a strange look. “You know how maps are in Nuworld. Sometimes they work, and sometimes they don't.” He looked back then. Jake seemed about ready to slip out of his saddle. He was exhausted. “Jake's not taking the trip well. Sometimes he's too tired to eat.”

  “I know. I feel the same way myself. We're just not used to riding this much.” Sarah glanced ahead. “I wish we could all ride like Reb. He never gets tired.”

  “Well, he's kind of a cowboy,” Josh said. “But anyway, let's just believe the map's right. Goel's never failed us yet.”

  At that moment a hawk flew overhead, crossing the sky almost like a bullet. Then it swooped suddenly to the earth, and there was the sound of thumping and a faint cry.

  Sarah shuddered. “I know hawks have to kill to eat, but there's always something about it I don't like.” Then she said, “No, Goel has never led us wrong.” She looked at Josh carefully. “Are you afraid of what lies ahead of usin Camelot?”

  Josh considered her words and shrugged. “Well, you might say I'm apprehensive, like when we went to Atlantis. None of us knew what to expect, and that's what we got—what we didn't expect. How do you suppose things are going back there?”

  They talked about their adventure under the sea—about the king and queen and the other people they had met there and the exciting adventures.

  Finally Josh said, “Well, I've had about all the adventure I need for a while.”

  “I guess all of us have—except may be Reb—but we have to do what Goel says. Look, we've about reached the top of this mountain, haven't we?”

  Josh noticed that the trail was widening even more. “Let's see if we've come to the peak.” They spurred their horses to catch up with Reb and Abbey, and the beasts, as tired as they were, responded.

  Soon all seven riders were racing toward the summit, which spread out into a much wider area. Minutes later they came to a sight that took their breath away.

  A beautiful valley lay far below, like a green carpet. It was dotted with clumps of trees, and far away Josh could see dwelling places. His eyes were keener than the others', and he said, “See over there! That looks like a castle!”

  As they all strained their eyes, Dave said, “I don't see anything, but I'm glad to be out of these woods.” He looked down the forbidding slope. “The path down doesn't look like it's wide enough for a horse.” He hated horses. “I think I'm going to walk down and let this beast get there the best way he can.”

  Reb laughed. “That hoss has surer feet than you, Dave. You better stay on board. Come on. I'm anxious to get down before dark.”

  As they descended, Jake moaned. “I'm gonna fall off this thing! Reminds me of a trip I took once. My folks took me to the Grand Canyon, and I had to get on a packhorse and ride down a trail like this. Only this one's steeper.”

  Josh, who was following closely behind Reb, did not like the steep incline to his right. The trail seemed to be carved out of rock and was solid enough, but it was very narrow.

  For two hours the nerve-wracking descent continued until they finally reached the foot of the mountain.

  Coming up beside Reb, Josh said wearily, “I'm glad that's over. May be we'd better camp—it's going to be dark in another hour.”

  Reb nodded. “I'll keep an eye out for a stream. Ya'll come on as you can.”

  Reb rode off. His big bay was seemingly as fresh as it had been that morning. Josh watched enviously as the boy guided the horse and sat on him as easily as if he were in a rocking chair.

  They had plodded along for another fifteen minutes when suddenly Reb reappeared over to their right. He was riding at full speed.

  Reb began waving. “Turn back! Get back into the woods!”

  But it was too late. The horses began milling about, and Jake's horse suddenly hunched, throwing him to the ground. The boy grunted and then scrambled to his feet, trying to catch the animal.

  By that time Reb had reached them. He wheeled his horse around to point in the direction of the woods. “Looky yonder— that must be some of the king's men. At least, I hope so!”

  Josh followed the direction of the boy's gesture and received a shock. Half a dozen men were emerging from the woods. The sun glinted on their suits of bright armor, and the fading light caught the upright lances at rest in their hands.

  “What'
ll we do, Josh?” Abbey cried out.

  “Nothing. We couldn't out run them on these horses even if they were fresh. Besides, why should we run? We were sent by Goel to the king.”

  Josh spoke with more assurance than he really felt. Got to show some spunk here—even if I don't like the looks of those sharp lances. He was thinking also that Goel had warned them about some knights in Camelot that were not to be trusted. “We've got no way of knowing who they are until we ask,” he said. “Let's show them we're not afraid.”

  The armed men approached, widening their line and encircling the young people.

  Dave whispered, “Wow, they look like they came right out of some movie! Look at them. All that armor!”

  Josh was filled with apprehension, but he could not help but admire the beautifully wrought armor that gleamed like silver. All the men wore helmets with the visors down, and most of the helmets bore a streamer—red, yellow, blue—that caught the afternoon breeze. They carried swords at their sides, but at the moment each was pointing a steel-tipped wooden lance at the Sleepers.

  One horseman nudged his charger forward a few feet, and his voice was muffled behind his visor. “Who are you, and what do you do in Camelot?”

  Josh cried out loudly, “We are seven sent by Goel to King Dion!”

  The leader swiftly raised his visor, and Josh took in the steady brown eyes that were examining him and the others.

  After a long silence the knight said, “How can you prove this?”

  Josh was some what taken aback. Goel had given them nothing to show that they were his servants, so Josh could only say, rather weakly, “When we talk to the king, we'll give the evidence. Take us there at once.”

  Another knight shook his lance in a threatening fashion. “They look to be spies to me. Let's hang 'em from the nearest tree.”

  A shiver ran over Josh, but he allowed nothing to show in his face. “If you hang the servants of Goel, woe be unto you.”

  The leader stopped the murmur that ran through the other knights surrounding them. He hesitated only for a moment more, then said, “I am Sir Gwin, one of the king's servants. We have had trouble with spies, and we must be careful. Can you give no proof at all that you were sent by Goel?”

  “We have no written message from him,” Josh admitted. “If you'll let us talk to the king, I am sure he will be convinced.”

  Sir Gwin studied the boy, then nodded. “So be it. But you will have to give up your weapons, and you will be closely guarded.”

  The weapons, such as they were, were taken from them, and they were surrounded by a circle of knights, who eyed them warily.

  As they made their way in the twilight, Sir Gwin said to Josh, “I hope you are telling the truth. If you are not, it will go ill for you.”

  “Why should we not be telling the truth?” Josh asked.

  Sir Gwin turned to look at him. He had removed his helmet, revealing himself to be a handsome man with dark eyes and hair. “There are many who wish ill of the king. After all, he is the Sword of Camelot. We must be sure that you are not one of these ill-wishers. If you are from Goel, well enough, but if you are not…”

  He shrugged, and his expression left no doubt in Josh's mind as to their fate.

  Later Josh turned to Sarah. “I wish we had a letter or something from Goel. If we can't convince the king, they'll probably throw us in jail.”

  Sarah managed to smile, as tired as she was. “Well, we've been there before, and Goel never left us, did he?”

  3

  Another Dungeon

  The journey to the castle they had seen in the far distance took several hours. Their horses were exhausted, and the Sleepers themselves were ready to drop. The sun quickly dipped behind the western mountains bringing darkness over the land. Only the pale, glowing moon that rose before them and the glittering stars enabled them to find their way.

  Finally Josh asked wearily, “How much farther is it, Sir Gwin?”

  “Not far. Less than a mile.” The knight leaned closer to catch a glimpse of the boy's face. Surprisingly, he said, “I'm sorry to put you through this, my boy. I can see that you've all had a hard journey.”

  Sarah said, “You're just doing your job, Sir Gwin. We understand.”

  The knight's armor clattered as his horse jogged along. “We have to be careful. Better to be safe than to allow—” He broke off then and said no more until, some minutes later, he pointed ahead. “There, you can see the outlines of the castle. That's Camelot.”

  Josh looked up eagerly. Ahead the sky was broken by the outline of towering spires and the shape of what appeared to be castellated towers.

  Then a challenge came out of the darkness. “Halt! Who goes there?”

  “Sir Gwin on patrol with seven prisoners.”

  The knight led them past three armed men and over a drawbridge— it clattered loudly as it fell into place— and through the gates in a wall. When they were on firm ground inside, Sir Gwin held up his hand, and the group halted.

  “Wait here, and I will see if the king will receive you.” He dismounted and disappeared into the darkness.

  Jake started to speak, but one of the knights said, “Keep your mouth shut! We won't have no spies' talk here!”

  That cut back on conversation considerably, and they dismounted at the grumpy knight's command. He also commanded a man to take care of their horses.

  Reb slapped his horse on the neck, saying, “Take good care of this one, will you, please?”

  The groom shot him a suspicious look and led off the bay silently.

  “Looks like everybody around here's suspicious!” Reb muttered to Wash. He looked up at the tower spires and shook his head. “I don't like the looks of this place.”

  “Me neither,” said Wash. “Probably looks better in the daylight, though. I used to read stories about King Arthur. I always liked the pictures of the castles—but this one doesn't look so good tonight.”

  They waited a long time. When they attempted to sit down, Sir Elbert, the grumpy knight Sir Gwin had left in charge, snapped, “You can keep on your feet and don't have no talking among you.” He walked carefully around them, carrying a naked sword that caught the gleam of the moonlight, and stopped in front of Josh. “One thing about it, if we find out you are spies, you won't have to worry about what to do with the rest of your life.” He laughed heartily at his own words and nodded toward one of the other guards. “We know how to take care of spies and traitors around here, don't we, Sir Nolen?”

  He started to say something else but was interrupted when Sir Gwin abruptly reappeared.

  “Well, what did the king say?” Elbert demanded.

  Sir Gwin gave the prisoners a look and shook his head regretfully. “The king isn't here. He and the royal family are on a visit to a neighboring castle. They won't be back for a while.”

  “But we have to see him!” Sarah said anxiously.

  “Sorry about that, young woman,” Sir Gwin said. “You'll have to wait until he comes back— and I'm afraid I'll have to keep you under guard.” He turned and said, “Sir Elbert, see that they are placed in the dungeon.”

  “The dungeon!” several of the Sleepers cried.

  Jake stepped forward and tilted his face upward to look into die face of the tall knight. “Why, you can't throw us into the dungeon— we're not criminals! I demand to see someone in authority!”

  Sir Gwin looked down at the boy, and a smile touched the corners of his lips. “You've got spirit, young man. I like that. Nevertheless, until the king comes back we'll have to keep you in the dungeon. It's the law of the land. Take them away, Sir Elbert.”

  Elbert reached out and slapped Jake across the seat with the flat of his sword. “Get on with you now, and the rest of you too. Come on, Nolen, and watch 'em. If they try to run, use your sword and spit 'em like a roasted duck!”

  * * *

  “I suppose there are worse dungeons than this,” Dave said, his voice tinged with disgust. “All the same, I'd like to
get out of this place.”

  By standing on his bed he was able to see throught he bars of the high window. The sun was now streaming through it. He had just reported what he saw—an open field where several men were engaged in martial exercise. Some were fencing with swords, while others on horseback aimed their lances at a small ring suspended from apost by a string.

  Dave stepped down to the floor and put his hands on his hips, staring at Josh. “We've got to get out of this place, Josh,” he urged. “Goel didn't send us here to rot in a dungeon!”

  Josh was sitting on his own bunk looking at the floor gloomily. Lifting his head, he stared back at Dave. “Well, of course! Now why didn't I ever think of that? That's what we need—to get out of here. By george, Dave, you're a smart one.”

  Dave glared and plopped down on his cot. “You don't have to get funny about it. It's just that I'm sick of this place.”

  “Why, I reck on we all are.” Reb was sitting at the cell's single table, across from Jake and Wash. The three of them were playing a game that Reb had made out of some paper left by a previous tenant.

  Reb picked up the pitcher and poured himself a mug of tepid water. He took a long drink, stared at the mug distastefully, then set it down. “I thought I could bust out of just about any pokey in the world. But there's only that one door, barred and locked, and two guards there all the time.” Then he stared over at Josh. “We just have to wait, I reck on, huh, Josh?”

  They had been in the cell for two days now, and the time had worn on their nerves. The girls were being held in another cell whose location was unknown to them. Josh had demanded of Sir Gwin, who came to visit them every morning, that they be placed in better quarters. But this exceeded the knight's orders. Josh could tell that he was regretful, for he seemed a pleasant enough fellow. It was Sir Elbert who made life miserable for them.

  “I'd like to hide that fellow Elbert under this jail so deep that they'd have to pipe sunlight to him!” Jake snorted. He was incensed at the treatment they had been receiving, and ten minutes later, when Sir Gwin stepped into the cell, he announced, “I have something to say.” He stood up and placed himself pugnaciously in front of the tall knight, his hands on his hips and his dark eyes filled with determination.