Sword of Camelot

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Sword of Camelot Page 11

by Gilbert L. Morris


  “They would not hear you.” The visitor came forward and put his hands suddenly on Melchior's shoulders. They were icy cold and gripped with a power that Melchior had not dreamed existed. He tried to cry out, but the room suddenly swirled around him, and he felt himself passing into a fit of unconsciousness.

  * * *

  “Awake, Melchior!”

  When Melchior opened his eyes, he looked around wildly “Where is this place?” he demanded of his captor. “Why have you brought me here?”

  “To show you how we shall overcome the Sword and Kingdom of Camelot.”

  Melchior looked around. He was in a cave, but such a huge cavern he had never before seen. There was semidarkness all about him, and yet, far down a long tunnel, he saw light. “What is that?”

  “That is what I have brought you to see.” The Dark Lord's servant motioned and turned. He walked toward the light, and Melchior, frightened to be alone, preferring even the company of this servant, hurried to keep up.

  He found himself brought up short when the dark-clad figure put out a hand and held him back. “Not too close,” he said. Then he pointed. “There. There is the bane of King Dion and of Camelot!”

  Melchior leaned forward to look over a precipice. They had arrived at a huge pit, illuminated by torches stuck around the wall at intervals. It must have been two hundred feet wide and at least one hundred feet deep, and there, at the bottom, was. . .

  “What is that thing?” Melchior gasped.

  “That is what some would call a dragon. It is not, actually, but is a beast that the Dark Lord has bred for just such times as these—and for his own amusement.”

  Melchior stared in cold fear at the huge beast. It had a long neck and powerful claws. He shuddered at the huge bat wings and snakelike head. The beast raised his head and uttered a hoarse cry.

  “Quick, back!” The servant of the Dark Lord jerked Melchior away from the chasm. “One drop of his venom and—untreated—you will die. It is poisonous!”

  Melchior began to tremble. He wiped his forehead with a shaking hand. “What does this all mean?”

  A hollow laugh came from the darkness of the hood, and Melchior could see the cruel lips turn up in an evil smile. “This is your weapon, Melchior. See that you use it well. Loose this beast on the country, and you will see that nothing can stand before him.”

  “Me? Why I wouldn't get within a hundred feet of that thing!”

  “You will be safe with this.” The cloaked servant handed him a black baton.

  It seemed to be a simple wand, and yet, when Melchior took it in his hand, he felt it quiver with energy. “What is it?” he gasped.

  “You would not understand if I told you, but it will control the dragon. Command and point the wand, and he will attack whatever is in front of him.”

  Melchior gulped, but he knew he had little choice. “What if he turns on me?”

  “He will not. He is under the command of the Dark Lord. That wand in your hand is the symbol of the power that will control him. Quickly now, loose the power of the dragon, and we will see what King Dion and his precious knights of chivalry will do against the Dark Lord.”

  * * *

  The village of Denmore awakened at its usual hour. The men were moving sleepily about the streets. The children were playing, rolling, fighting, crying aloud. The women emerged to do their chores, and some of the peasants had gone to the well and were washing their clothes.

  It was a typical, warm spring morning filled with the cries of the children, the sounds of women laughing at the well, and the voices of men calling to each another as they worked in the fields.

  Suddenly a keen whistling sound split the air.

  Startled, the villagers looked up to see a dark shape appear by a growth of small trees. A cry of fear went up from the children, who scattered and ran to their mothers or into the woods.

  “What is it?” the chief villager, a man named Minton, cried. Then his eyes grew wide, and he gasped. “It's a wild beast! Get your arrows, bows, your swords!”

  The men rushed for their weapons. Minton himself grabbed his bow and fitted an arrow to the string. As the hideous beast fell screaming down upon him, he loosed it. The arrow struck the scaly armor of the dragon and was deflected. Then the creature breathed a venomous fog from its huge mouth. The vapor blew out like live steam and surrounded Minton, who dropped his bow, grabbed his throat, fell to the ground, and grew still.

  Upon seeing this, the other men threw down their weapons and ran. Some were killed as they fled. Women died too, and even children, as the dragon ravaged the village.

  When the beast flew away seeming to heed some faraway call, the village clerk came out from beneath a log, his face covered with dirt. Fear made his eyes wide, and he gasped, “Quick, my horse! I must go to the king! He must know that evil is loose in Camelot!”

  14

  The Pride of Sir Reb

  Sometimes fear can sweep over an entire nation exactlyas it does over a single individual. So it was in the landof Camelot. As the fierce and deadly beast struck villageafter village, panic fell over all the inhabitants. Even the flight of a crow overhead was sufficient for men, women, and children to drop their tools and run screaming forshelter.

  There was no pattern to the attacks. The creaturemight strike in the eastern sector one day, fall out of sight, then move on the western sector a week later.

  “I tell you,” King Dion shouted to his council, “the thing must be killed!” His face was pale with anger, and he tugged fiercely at his mustache as he paced back and forth before the elders.

  They stared at him anxiously.

  “Sire,” Sir Gwin said, “we have sent our best knights to do battle with this thing—three of them.” His face grew long. “None of them survived. Witnesses tell us that though they faced up bravely to the creature, all their strength and courage went for naught. The beast either sank his teeth into them or overwhelmed them with his breath.”

  King Dion ordinarily was the kindest of men. Rarely did he speak harshly to his subjects, but he was beside himself, and now he shouted with rage. “Are you a coward, Gwin? Are you afraid to face this beast yourself?”

  Sir Gwin's face went pale. He straightened up. “I tell you, no man ever accused me of cowardice, Your Majesty.”

  “That's right, my dear,” Queen Mauve said quickly and laid a restraining hand on her husband's arm. “It seems that this monster cannot be defeated with ordinary weapons.”

  The king stared at her, and some of the anger left him. “Of course, my dear, you are right.” He shot a quick look at Sir Gwin and gave his apology. “I spoke too harshly, Sir Gwin. I know only too well that your courage is exceeded by none in my kingdom.”

  A murmur went around the council, and for a while the talk grew more and more dark and pessimistic.

  Finally, the eldest member of the council said, “It would be well, Your Majesty, would it not, to ask our visitors the Seven Sleepers to enter into council with us? After all, they are sent to us from Goel.”

  Prince Loren shook his head. “I don't see that they can help,” he said stubbornly “If our best knights have failed, what can mere children do?”

  Princess Elaine was sitting beside him. She had said nothing during the council. She never did. It was not her place, she felt. But now, suddenly, she spoke up. “I think we must look to Elendar to lead us in this crisis. He is the one who knows the Dark Lord and his ways best, and I think he knows the Sleepers well.”

  Every eye turned to the tall form of Elendar, who was standing back in the shadows. He wore a simple cloak of white linen, and his white hair well matched it. Only his eyes seemed dark and glowing. He looked at Princess Elaine, and a smile smoothed away the sternness of his lips. “My Princess,” he said, “I thank you for your confidence—but I am not certain of what course to take.”

  The king stared bleakly at him. “If you are not certain, Elendar, what are the rest of us to do?”

  Elendar lowered h
is head and seemed to examine the floor. All were aware that he was thinking profoundly, and they had grown so accustomed to waiting on his wisdom that the silence grew thick even as it grew longer.

  Finally Elendar said, “The Princess Elaine may be more right than all of us. I do not claim to know the ways of Goel better than any other. But one thing I do know—when he sends a messenger, there is power in that messenger.” He stopped and nodded firmly. “He has sent us seven messengers. I think it well to pay heed to what they might say.” He looked hard at Prince Loren. “Children they are not. They are wise and have been tried in the hard school of adversity. They have remained faithful to Goel when others have faltered. I say, call the Seven Sleepers!”

  * * *

  Sir Gwin approached Josh Adams. “Josh, you and the others are summoned to the High Council.”

  Josh stared at him, disconcerted. “It's about the dragon, isn't it?” he asked.

  “Isn't everything about that frightful beast these days?” Sir Gwin replied grimly. “Yes. Come quickly. The council is waiting.”

  Josh whirled, called the rest, and when they were together he said, “The king and the council have sent for us.” He added carefully, “It's about this dragon.”

  “I never believed in such a thing as dragons,” Dave said. “But we've seen strange tilings in Nuworld. Nothing much stranger than this, though.”

  “What can he want with us?” Jake asked. He ruffled his red hair and pulled at it nervously. “From what I hear, this thing eats knights for breakfast.” He thought for a moment and said, “I wish I had an AK-7 attack rifle. I'd stop his clock.”

  “Well, you don't have,” Reb had come in late and listened as Josh explained the problem. Now, instead of waiting—as he would have done earlier—he said, “Come along, we can't keep the king waiting.”

  Sarah fell in beside Josh and saw the set look on his face. “Don't be upset, Josh,” she whispered. “Reb doesn't mean to be so bossy.”

  “Yes, he does,” Josh said grimly. “He means exactly that. He's gotten unbearable, and I don't know what to do about it.” He looked miserable. “If he can whip full-grown knights, what chance would I have to make him listen to me? He'd pound me into the ground.”

  Sarah said quickly, “Now, Josh, don't say that. One thing we've both learned from being in this place and serving Goel is that power is not always the answer. Time and time again we've seen Goel send the mighty into the dust, haven't we now? So you just stop putting yourself down. You hear me?”

  Josh glanced over and took in Sarah's flashing eyes. He grinned. “You always were bossy. What would you do if you didn't have me to boss around?”

  Sarah sniffed. “I am not bossy. I just think you need to realize who you are, that's all. Come on now, let's see what the king has to say.”

  * * *

  The Seven Sleepers filed in front of the long table where the council sat.

  The king looked up. “Stand not upon ceremony. We have no time to waste. You're wondering why we've called you all together.”

  Reb said at once, “Why, Your Majesty, it has to be about this dragon. That's all anyone's talking about.”

  Dion gazed at the tall young man and nodded. “That's right, Sir Reb. The kingdom is going to fall apart if something isn't done. Elendar's suggested that we bring you Sleepers here. Elendar, you speak to them.”

  Elendar stepped forward. “No man knows the mind of Goel except as he chooses to reveal himself. But we know that he does not do things foolishly, and we know that he never fails. Therefore, I have to assume that you seven have been sent to Camelot to perform a task. The only question is, how is this task to be accomplished?”

  Silence fell across the room.

  Finally the quiet was broken by Reb, who said rather loudly, “Why, I reckon I know the answer to that.”

  He watched the eyes of Elendar unblinkingly. He had met with Mogen the night before. She stayed with him long and told him that this was going to happen—that he would be called upon, that the king would ask the Sleepers to do something about the threat to the kingdom, and she had whispered, “This is your chance—not only to win more favor with the king but to win more than that.”

  “More than that?” Reb answered. “What could that be?”

  Mogen smiled. “Power lies within your grasp, Reb. Don't let it slip from you. Men will do anything for power, and I want you to have it. Why, it's not beyond reason that you might one day rule this whole kingdom.”

  At one time this would have seemed foolish to Reb, but since meeting Mogen and since she had been coming to him in the dark hours of the night, he had changed greatly. He simply smiled. “Well, I reckon I could handle it, if it comes to that.”

  He had not seen her evil smile behind her hand, and now as he faced the council he felt large and powerful and strong. The medallion burned on his chest as he said, “I'll fight this dragon. He can't stand before me.”

  “Reb,” Josh broke in, appalled, “that's not for you to say.”

  “Indeed, I would not like to see you meet this beast,” King Dion said. “ You've proved your courage, young man, many times, but this beast is more than any man can defeat. The prophecy came forth long ago that no man born of woman could defeat the monster created by the Dark Lord. We all feel that this is the monster that was spoken of, and therefore you would be killed if you attempted to fight it.”

  “Right now is the time to hit him!” Reb cried out. He clapped his hand on his sword, drew it, and brandished it in the air. “I will kill this varmint for you, Your Majesty! I know it!”

  * * *

  Elendar half closed his eyes at Reb's words, but King Dion gasped in astonishment. “Why, Sir Reb—I believe you might do it. I don't know why, but somehow, even as you speak, I feel power coming out of you.”

  The elders all nodded. Their leader stood and said, “Let the young man try his strength against that of the dragon.”

  King Dion hesitated only one moment. Then he agreed. “Yes, let it be so. Sir Reb,” he said, “if you succeed in your quest, you will be the foremost knight in all of Camelot.”

  Sir Gwin frowned at that and shot a glance at Prince Loren, who sat silent, his face pale.

  Josh was standing where he could see the prince's face. Pretty hard on Prince Loren, to be put aside in favor of a stranger, he thought. But he wouldn't have any more chance against that dragon than I would.

  The king came to stand before Sir Reb. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder. “Sir Reb, you may choose any here to accompany you.”

  But Reb seemed filled with the feeling of power. He shook his head. “I'll get right at it!” He whirled and left the room.

  The king stared after him. He turned then to the other Sleepers. “May Goel be with him! For if he is not, he has no chance.”

  Josh felt great fear, for he had learned to love Bob Lee Jackson. True, of late he had been somewhat swollen with pride, but that did not change what the two had shared. When they were outside the king's chambers, Josh said, “I'm going to go as his squire. Perhaps I can do something.”

  But when he caught up with Reb, Reb said simply, “No, Josh. You need to stay here with the other Sleepers. I can take care of this myself. I've decided not even to take a squire.”

  Josh replied quietly, “Reb, something is … wrong with you. You're not the same as you used to be.”

  “I should hope not.” Reb laughed. “I was a pretty sorry specimen when I first got here! Now I'm the king's favorite—and likely to be more!”

  Josh squinted, searching Reb's face. “That's what I mean. That's exactly the sort of thing Bob Lee Jackson would never have said. It's like—” he hesitated “—it's like somebody else has got inside of you.”

  For one moment Reb's eyes widened, but then he said, “You're dreaming, Josh.” He patted Josh on the shoulder. “You take care of things here. After I've knocked this dragon off, we'll have a long talk about the way things are going to be.”

  Reb walked away,
and Josh turned back to where the rest of the group were waiting.

  “Josh,” Sarah said, “could you talk any sense into him?”

  “He won't listen.” He turned to Princess Elaine, who had joined Sarah. “Couldn't you talk to him, Princess? He thinks a lot of you.”

  Elaine looked after the departing young man. A thought seemed to come to her, but instead of speaking she slipped silently away.

  “She can't do any more than the rest of us,” Dave said.

  “Sure wish I had that attack rifle,” Jake muttered.

  “It'd take a Stealth Bomber to knock that thing out!” Wash said.

  “Are you going as his squire?” Abbey asked Josh. “No. I asked him, but he wouldn't let me. He thinks he doesn't need any help.” He looked around sadly. “I'm afraid for him. Something's in him that shouldn't be there, and it's gonna get him killed.”

  15

  Encounter with a Dragon

  Elaine awakened out of a fitful sleep. She had tossed and turned and had drifted off only once or twice. When the sun barely had begun to turn the blackness of the eastern sky to a misty gray, she arose from her bed. Slipping into a robe, she walked out of her chamber, past the guard, and into the outer court.

  For a long time she walked back and forth, for she had been troubled by thoughts of the crisis that had fallen upon Camelot. She thought of the horrible beast that had come to plague the kingdom and was troubled by Reb's insistence on going forth to do battle with him.

  The first red light of morning drew a line against the eastern horizon as she stood at a parapet overlooking the castle grounds.

  Suddenly she was aware of someone on the balcony with her! Thinking it was a servant, she turned and started to speak, then halted abruptly. A man she had never seen before stood there.

  Her heart lurched with fear. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  In the murky light of morning the man advanced, and when Elaine retreated he threw back the cowl that hid his face. “Do not fear, my daughter,” he said quietly.

 

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