They had all tried their hands, except the girls, of course—even poor Wash, who was no match even for one of the other Sleepers. Obviously either Josh, Dave, or Reb would have to fight. Jake and Wash were both too small.
Sarah got to her feet, and Dave followed. They walked over to where Reb was standing, glaring at Sir Nolen.
“Don't feel bad, Reb,” Dave said. “This just isn't your game.”
Sir Nolen had discarded most of his armor. He was clad only in a gray oveshirt, tight knit breeches, and short boots. “What is your game?” he demanded. He was almost in despair, for he was a friend of Elendar and had promised to come up with some answers.
The other Sleepers gathered around, and there was gloom in their faces.
Finally, Reb said, “It's pretty plain none of us are going to be able to match these fellows with a sword. It takes too long to learn. But I do have one idea.”
“What is it?” Josh asked wearily. “Anything you can think of is better than what we've got!”
Reb bit his lip and glanced over toward where two knights were jousting. “I don't know about those lances,” he said, “but I haven't seen anybody around here who can ride any better than I can.”
“Is that right?” Sir Nolen demanded quickly. “I haven't even tried you on a joust. That's harder than swordplay.”
“If its got something to do with a horse,” Reb said stubbornly, “I'll take my chances.”
Sir Nolen considered the tall young man and seemed to find something he liked in the light blue eyes. “All right, my boy. It looks like that's going to be our only hope. Come along, and we'll see how you do on a horse. You can use mine.”
Reb and the others followed the small, cocky knight to the part of the court where the horses were stabled. “That's him—his name is Blaze,” Nolen said proudly. “He's a bit of a handful.”
Reb grinned at him. ‘“Never was a horse couldn't be rode,’” he quoted. “Just let me have a try.”
Thirty minutes later Sir Nolen was whistling with amazement. “You are a fine rider, lad! I never saw better! Blaze doesn't take to everybody, but he likes you. I can see that. You've let him know who's the boss, and that's what counts with horses.”
“I can ride him all right, but what about the rest of it?” Reb said.
“Well, that's the rub. You seem to be a pretty strong lad. Let's try you on the lance.”
Soon Reb proved that he could put a lance tip through a six-inch ring, and again Sir Nolen was amazed. “Why, there's men that can't do that who've been jousting for years. Now, here's the important thing. You've got the lance in your right hand. What do you do with your left hand?”
“Why, guide the horse,” Reb answered with surprise.
Sir Nolen laughed. “You hold a shield with it, boy! Otherwise, you'd get the other fellow's lance right through your gizzard. You steer the horse with your knees. Blaze is trained to do that. So now, let me give you this shield, and you try that.”
Reb was a little disconcerted but soon found that the sturdy horse obeyed instantly any command he gave with his knees. One slight pressure, and the horse turned.
“Of course, there's no need to turn,” Sir Nolen said. “You are headed straight along the fence. Your lance is pointed over it. You don't want your horse to turn.”
“Well, I think I can handle this part of it,” Reb said. But the thought of that lance coming straight at him troubled him. “How do I keep the other fellow from hitting me?”
“The helmet you will wear is made so that it will slip his lance if he goes for your head. There's nothing on it to catch. The trick is to shift your shield so that his lance goes off to the side. Then, with your own lance, go in over the top or side and catch him in the body. Come along. I'll mount up, and we'll run through it a few times.”
That sounded simple enough, but Reb soon found that it was more difficult than it seemed. Sir Nolen upped the pace until finally they were galloping at each other at what seemed to be a furious rate.
Each time Reb learned something, and finally Sir Nolen said, “Well, boy, we can run at each other all week, but now we'd better try it for real.”
He put on full armor and encased Reb in the same.
“Remember, catch the tip of my lance on your shield and try to catch me on the body.”
“I feel clumsy as a possum in this tin suit!” Reb complained.
“Aye, we all feel the same. But we'd be dead without it. Come now, let's try it for real.”
Reb guided his horse back to his end of the jousting field and turned him around.
Sir Nolen did the same.
Then Nolen shouted, “Go!”
Reb kicked Blaze into a gallop, and the two horses approached each other at break neck speed.
Reb knew he could not out-joust a man such as Sir Nolen, who had made jousting his life, but he had an idea. As they drew close, he suddenly tilted his spear up toward Sir Nolen's head. Sir Nolen was not expecting that and flinched, which pulled his shield to one side. At the moment Sir Nolen's lance struck Reb's shield and slipped aside, Reb's own lance drove into the body of the knight, and he heard a crash as Sir Nolen fell to the ground.
He could not stop Blaze immediately, but he heard a cheer from the sidelines. Whirling his horse around, he looked back anxiously, and threw down his lance. He stepped off his horse and clanked back to Sir Nolen, afraid that he was hurt.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Sir Nolen got to his feet awkwardly and shoved his visor back. Reb saw that he was grinning. “Yes, I'm all right. That was a neat trick, lad. That's exactly the one you'll use tomorrow against whatever champion the king appoints. Caught me off guard, it did, and it may work again.”
* * *
When the trumpet sounded the next day, Elendar came to stand be side Reb, who was again mounted on Blaze. At the far end of the jousting field, a very large knight in black armor was waiting.
“He looks as big as a house,” Reb said. “I don't have much of a chance, do I, Elendar?”
Elendar's pale blue eyes seemed to glitter. “The battle is not always to the strong,” he whispered. “Goel would not have sent you here and put you in this place if there were no chance. Now I'm no jouster, but I know that courage is the essential ingredient. Every knight will tell you— the man who flinches is the man who loses.”
Reb looked over at the huge knight. The sun caught the tip of the man's lance as he held it high. He felt a moment of fear.
Elendar seemed to sense it. He slapped the boy's leg. “Never take counsel of your fears, my boy. Believe in Goel, and do not flinch. Will you do that?”
Reb swallowed hard and looked over to where his friends were gathered next to the royal family. A huge crowd had assembled, and now all the flags and pennants were flapping in the breeze.
He knew he had but a small chance of victory. The champion was a fierce warrior, Sir Hector, who had slain many men in battle and was the champion of the joust. The king had said, “If you can survive Sir Hector, I will believe that you are who you say.”
Reb fought down the dark fear that rose in him, and suddenly a wave of hope came. He could not explain it. It did not have anything to do with the circumstances. He was almost certain to lose. Still, a strange sense of assurance welled up within. He looked down at Elendar. “You're right. I think I can do it, Elendar. He may spit me like a chicken for a bar be cue, but he'll have to kill me to do it !”
“Good, lad! Now—” Elendar raised his hand and let it fall, and the herald by the king suddenly blew a blast on his trumpet.
Instantly Reb put his heels to Blaze and narrowed his attention to the black knight.
The rest of the world seemed blotted out for Reb. He ignored the bright colors—the reds, the blues, the greens of the ladies' dresses. He ignored the shouts that came from the on lookers. All he saw was a black shield and the visor of Sir Hector as the huge knight lowered his lance.
The two rushed toward each other, and all sounds
too seemed to fade. Yet there was a clear voice that came not into his ear but into his heart. Do not be afraid, Dob Lee, for you will not fail!
Reb would never know whose that voice was, but it sounded much like the voice of Goel.
And then he was in front of the great knight. The gleaming lance tip came straight at him. He lifted his shield and at the same time pointed his own lance at the head of the black knight.
Sir Hector's reactions were fast, and he was not completely fooled. His lance struck Reb's shield and shook the boy to his backbone. Nevertheless, he lunged forward, and as Hector moved his shield three inches to the right, Reb lowered his point and caught the large man in the side.
He felt the shock as they met—and then the pressure was off, and he was past. Wheeling Blaze around, he saw Sir Hector lying flat on the ground and his horse galloping away. He became aware also of the silence of the crowd.
Pushing back his visor, Reb lifted his lance and shouted with all his might, “Goel forever!”
“Goel forever!” his friends cried. They came running out from the stands, and, as he fell from his horse, clanking mightily, he was surrounded.
“You did it, Reb! You did it!” Abigail cried. “There never was anything like it.”
Josh said, “A real servant of Goel, Reb!”
Bob Lee Jackson knew that it had not been his doing. “Goel helped me,” he said simply. “I guess if I ever doubted anything about him, I won't never do it again!”
5
Basic Training
I hardly know how to explain it,” Elendar said.
He was sitting in the shade of a yew with Josh, Reb, and Sarah. The others had gone off to explore the castle again.
Elendar leaned back against the tree, his pale blue eyes half shut. He stroked his beard, while from the jousting field came the sound of crashing metal as a knight wasknocked from his saddle.
Josh broke into Elendar's reverie. “Well, I don't understand why you don't just tell the king about Melchior.”
Elendar had been telling how the forces of a knight named Melchior, who lived on the outer verge of the kingdom, had been swayed by the powers of the Sanhedrin. He also informed them that the king seemed unable to comprehend that Melchior was not to be trusted.
“I think sometimes,” Elendar said quietly, “that Elmas has been able to cloud the mind of the king. I can no longer speak to him as freely as I once could.”
“Why, that's just what happened in Atlantis!” Josh exclaimed. “It wasn't the king but one of his followers who got sort of hypnotized there.” He went on to explain.
Elendar's eyes narrowed even more. “That's the work of the Dark Lord right enough. I've been on many long journeys, and everywhere I go the darkness seems to be creeping over the earth. Only Goel offers any hope.”
“Does everyone here believe in Goel?” Sarah asked.
“Unfortunately not. The king does—and the queen—but as I say, the king's judgment is clouded. Perhaps he's just getting old, as I am.”
Reb considered Elendar, then shook his head. “I don't understand much about this. I'm just a good old country boy from Arkansas, but what is it Melchior does that is so bad?”
“It's not what he does so much as it is his influence, ”Elendar said grimly. “He's made himself very popular with many of the knights and the noblemen. They trust him—many of them—and he promises them great things.” Angrily he shook his head, and a butterfly that had lighted on his white hair flew off. He watched it for a moment. “The time will come when the king will be sorry he's trusted Melchior—but I'm unable to get that across to him.”
“Well—” Reb sighed “—I don't know anything about politics. My uncle was a county judge. He was a good man before he got that job, but it sure ruined him!”
Elendar smiled slightly, but there was a grimness in his face. “It was once said, ‘Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.’”
“But that isn't always true, is it?” Sarah asked. “I mean, Goel has power—and he's good. You have power, Elendar—and you're good.”
“Some have not the ability to refuse what power brings with it. Melchior is one of those. He wants power for his own sake, whereas Goel uses his for the good of others—and I also, I trust.” He shook himself and stood to his feet. “I'll leave you here now, but I hope you'll understand our ways a little better through these sessions we have.” He turned quickly and left them.
Sarah said, “He's so wonderful! I never thought seers would be like that. I thought…”
Josh looked into the distance. “He's got power too, but I think he's afraid it's not enough.”
* * *
“Boy, this is tough.” Dave dropped with exhaustion to the ground. He had been fencing with Josh, and the two of them were puffing from the exercise.
Sir Nolen had stood near them, giving either who lagged the flat of his sword on the bottom.
Josh felt that his arms were going to fall off and was relieved when the knight said, “That'll do for now, but I'll be back in twenty minutes for more practice.”
The young men had been practicing for days now. They had struggled with every kind of hand-held medieval weapon imaginable—knife, broadsword, foil, rapier, pike, halberd, and always, of course, the lance on horseback.
Dave and Josh were able to sit on a horse after a fashion but never had shown any talent for jousting. It was Reb who still excelled at this, growing more skilled each day. Wash and Jake floundered around with smaller weapons, never doing any damage to anyone—except that Jake once put a dagger through his own leg.
As the two boys rested, Dave said, “This looks kind of silly, doesn't it, Josh? I mean, how are we kids going to become warriors who can match the skill of grown men? We can't hope to beat experienced adult enemies.”
Josh wiped the sweat from his forehead and lay back, shading his eyes with his hand. “I don't know, Dave, but you remember the high place where the Sanhedrin had us trapped? We did pretty well then.”
“Yes, I remember that, ” Dave nodded, “but I just don't know what to expect this time.”
“None of us do, ” Josh said. He looked up to see Sir Gwin coming and got to his feet.
Dave got up also. “I hope you've come to give us some book lessons. My arm's about to fall out of its socket.”
Sir Gwin was wearing hose and a green doublet with slashes and a small black cap. “As you see, ” he said, grinning, “I'm not wearing armor. It's time for another kind of lesson. Come along. I've told Sir Nolen.”
He took them first to their own quarters where they washed as well as they could. Then they were furnished some clothes of the same type that Sir Gwin wore.
When they were dressed, Gwin said, “The others are already waiting for us. We'll go now.”
As he led them down the hall and up a flight of stairs, Josh asked, “What sort of thing will we be learning now? Which fork to use?”
Sir Gwin stared at him. “What's a fork?”
Josh blinked. “Why … uh … it's what you use to eat your food with!”
“Oh, we call that a knife here.”
Dave laughed aloud and winked at Josh. “That's what we call it too, and we've been making out fine without forks since we got here.” As they walked, he explained the nature of a fork, but when they got to the door of a large hall, Sir Gwin said, “Sounds like foolishness to me. If you've got a knife, you cut off the meat, stab it with the end, stick it in your mouth. That's all there is to it.”
Josh winked at Dave. “You may be right.”
They entered and found their friends waiting for them.
Abigail leaped up at once. “Oh, you finally got here. Now we can begin.”
“Begin what?” Josh asked.
“Why, to learn to dance, ” Abigail said in surprise.“ Didn't Sir Gwin tell you?”
“No, I was explaining to them that a knife is all one needs to eat with, ” Sir Gwin said. Then turning to Dave and Josh, he said, “This lesson will be in
the more civilized things. For example, every nobleman of breeding mustknow how to dance.”
Josh had sudden memories of falling over his feet back in Oldworld, and his heart sank. “Can't I skip that one, Sir Gwin? I'm not very good at it.”
“No, you cannot, ” Gwin insisted. “You will learn to dance just as you have learned to fence. Musicians—”
Soft music filled the room as the three musicians at one end of the hall began to pluck harps and a lyre.
Sarah came up to Josh. “I'll show you how, Josh. It's easy. I've already been practicing.”
Josh groaned. Ten minutes later, after stepping all over Sarah's feet, he said, “I'd rather be bashing some-body with a sword.”
“You're doing fine, ” Sarah said firmly. “Now, put your right foot here …”
The dancing lesson seemed to go on forever, and after it was over, Sir Gwin sat them down and began to explain the other niceties of knighthood.
They all listened carefully, but Jake interrupted several times to protest that it sounded like foolishness to him. His small, round face looked disgusted. “I don't see how this is going to save Camelot, dancing around. Why don't we get on with the real thing?”
Sir Gwin smiled and answered, “This is the real thing, Jake. Being a knight involves many things. It's more than a matter of physical strength and skill with the lance, although that's part of it. For example, it is a knight's boun-den duty to help those who are weaker.”
“I like that, ” Sarah said. “That's a noble thing.”
“It is also required of all knights that they treat women with gentleness and courtesy.”
“I like that, ” Abigail said. She put an elbow into Dave's side, making him grunt. “You listen to this carefully—it's important.”
He glared at her, but she smiled sweetly.
They listened as Sir Gwin explained the code of chivalry, which involved a complicated ritual.
At one point Reb broke out in astonishment. “What's that you say? It's all right for a knight to fall in love with a woman even if she's married?”
“Oh, yes.” Sir Gwin shrugged. “According to our knightly code, a man may carry a woman's favor—that is, a silk scarf—on his lance in battle, even if she's married. All it's saying is that he admires her grace and beauty.”
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