The Edge

by Jacob Wenzel

  “Better looking, I think not.”

  “Look at you, your little pinky bodies, if they looked good, you wouldn't cover them up, although that Gwenevere is a looker, she once rode through my forest naked, wow, I almost wished I was human. But look at us dragons, look at the hues in my scales, have you ever seen such colors, I don't think so. Yes, we're better looking, and superior to you in every way, and you just can't handle that.”

  “Thou besmircheth the name of the queen!”

  “If there's anyone besmirching your queen, it's Launcelot, he was riding naked after her.”

  “Thou art lying, foul beast! Now thou shalt die!”

  “If you're going to persist in this attempted slaying, I guess we should get on with it, I'll even give you a chance, I'll close my eyes before I before breathe fire at you.”

  “Thy breath is foul even without the fire.”

  “Tell me about it, it's the hydrogen sulfide, there's nothing worse than a dragon's breath first thing in the morning, it's why we all live alone.”

  “Hydrogen sulfide?”

  “Yes, it smells like rotten eggs, there are only two things that smell like that, and one of them is dragon's breath.”

  “What is the other?”

  “Rotten eggs, jeez, how did you people ever create a civilization? None the less, I shall close my eyes before I engulf you in flames, to give you a chance.”

  “Dragons always close their eyes before they breathe fire.”

  “That's true, the light hurts our eyes, and I promise to do no less.”

  As soon as Sid's eyes closed, Bedivere dove to the ground and rolled as the flame missed him by a little less than a foot. This was the best strategy with dragons, roll each time, and wait for the dragon to exhaust his supply of fire, usually they could not breathe fire more than three or four times in a row, then rush in, and bring a sword up through the soft flesh under the beast's jaw and into its head. He prepared for another roll as the dragon reared back for another blast.

  33.

  William said to Bob, “I didn't know we had a jump scheduled, but I guess it was fortuitous.”

  “I neglected to tell you that I had changed the schedule.” said Bob.

  “You changed it? But what about our power reserves, and jump windows?”

  “We just took a slight detour. We'll be back on the planned route in a few more jumps.”

  “William,” it was Sally, “I think you should come look at this.”

  William went into the foyer, where Sally was looking out the door at a man in armor who was kneeling before the Winnebago, with a sword held in front of him, it's handle pointing upward.

  “What is he?” Sally asked.

  “I think he's a knight.”

  “It's daytime.”

  “I'll explain later.”

  Sir Bedivere rose, “Sir Bedivere, the Dauntless, A knight of King Arthur's Round Table, at thy service. I do not understand what has happened here, perchance a trickery of Merlin or some enchantress. Am I being tested?”

  “Trickery?” asked William.

  “A monster is transmogrified into a vessel containing two oddly dressed people, at the very moment it was about to try to kill me with its foul breath? Aye, that would be a trickery. Is this to distract me from my quest, or mayhaps thou art here to guide me.”

  “Guide you? To what?”

  “In my quest for The Holy Wingnut.”

  William suppressed a chuckle, “I'm sorry, did you say 'The Holy Wingnut'?”

  “Aye, from the very bicycle Our Lord rode into Jerusalem in his triumphant return. The color of silver, and as hard as iron, but it suffers not the corruption that afflicts all metals except gold, that most noble of metals.”

  “Stainless steel, no doubt. Do you know the thread pitch?”

  “I do not understand thy words, Sir.”

  “Never mind, where does your quest take you?”

  “To Northumbria, where the evil sorceress Morgan le Fay, the King's half-sister reigns. It is a mystery how one womb, that of the fair Ygraine, could produce such a holy man as Our King, and such a vile witch as le Fay, it must have been from her father, that foul pig, Gorlois, who forced himself upon Ygraine when she was but a child, and she had to suffer his vile affections.”

  William interrupted him, “Will you excuse us for a few minutes.”

  When William and Sally were back inside, William said, “Bob, when are we?”

  “The farther you get from the timeline of your origin, the less relevant relative time becomes.” Bob replied.

  “What does that mean? How long has it been since this timeline diverged from mine?”

  “There is no divergence point, this timeline and yours have no common past.”

  “None? But the similarities, King Arthur? When did he live? The twelfth century?”

  “In your timeline, the historical basis for King Arthur was, in most pasts, a king of the Britons named Riothamus, who lived in the late fifth to early sixth century.”

  “His English is definitely later than sixth century, it's mostly modern English with a few archaic words thrown in, almost like he's trying to give the illusion of being in medieval times, and his armor is certainly newer. It just seems so unlikely, to be so similar, yet unconnected.”

  “Unlikely, yet possible,” said Sally, “and if it's possible, it exists somewhere, is that right, Bob?”

  “You are correct, Sally. I'm not sure William fully understands the implications of 'possible'”

  William asked, “Did you bring us to this world because it is similar to ours?”

  “From the last world, I transported the two of you to over two hundred different worlds, you just followed the path to this one.”

  “To change the subject, what should we do now?”

  “You might find it interesting to accompany Sir Bedivere on his quest for the duration of your stay.”

  “How long is our stay?” Sally asked.

  “Twenty-seven days, two hours and twenty-two minutes, just long enough to help him finish his quest.”

  “How far is Northumbria from here?” asked William.

  “About eighty-five kilometers to the river Humber, which marks the southern border, and another fifty-two kilos to Le Fay's castle, where the Wingnut is most likely hidden, by the way, it's a three-eighths-twenty-six.”

  “What?” asked William.

  “You asked Bedivere what thread size the holy Wingnut is. It is three-eighths of an inch with twenty-six threads per inch.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I guessed, and I've made a replica of the one you will find in some timelines, so you can help Bedivere steal it without Le Fay detecting its theft. Don't tell Bedivere you have it.”

  “We're going to help Bedivere steal it? How?” asked Sally.

  “The two of you shall ride the robot horses, I have already re-worked the appearance of the battle suits so they will not be out of place here, I have also made appropriate weapons for both of you, and packed bags with food and supplies.”

  “The horses aren't working yet.” said William.

  “I finished designing the controls and power supplies while you were having breakfast with the pirate captain. You just need to install them, and teach Sally how to ride a robot horse Which should take about thirty seconds.”

  They went back out, where Bedivere was still kneeling in prayer, occasionally glancing up. When he saw them, he rose.

  William said, “Sir Bedivere, we humbly ask permission to join you on your quest for the Holy Wingnut. We have horses.”

  “Thouest may ride with me, though I cannot promise to provide protection to both of thee.”

  “Your company is all we ask, we are able to protect ourselves, we are travelers from afar, I am Sir William of Terwilliger, and this is my consort, Lady Sally of Exni-Slodge. A warrior in her own right, she has bravely fought, and defeated the devil horsemen of the Deux, and foiled the plans of Clara, the wicked witch of the west.�
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  Bedivere stepped back, and eyed Sally suspiciously, “A woman warrior? I have not heard of such a thing, except among the heathen. Queen Boudicca was great warrior.”

  William wanted to avoid the subject of religion, since technically, Sally was a heathen, and he would be considered by most people to be an agnostic, since he had thought very little about religion, and had no opinions on the subject. But he felt no qualms in saying, “You will never find a woman with more faith than Lady Sally.” He felt this was true, Sally seemed to have a great, undefined faith, that he was not sure he would ever be able to understand or share.

  Bedivere said, “Then, if thou art half as brave and faithful, the two of thee shall be welcome companions, I will set my camp, and we shall set forth in the morning. Sir William, m'Lady.” He bowed, and set about making his camp.

  Even though, they had left Eric's world soon after breakfast, it was approaching dusk here and William and Sally went back inside, they were very tired even though it was still morning in their local time. They had a small meal and went to bed, but not before William asked Bob a few questions, “Bob, if we're going on horseback with Bedivere, what are you going to do?”

  “I will move the Winnebago farther back into the cave, and wait, I may attempt to learn to speak tiger.”

  “Tigers have language?”

  “In some timelines.”

  “And if someone should come by?”

  “In the timelines in which someone approaches, I will project a holographic image of a dragon, and they will flee. In the few timelines where you are in inescapable danger, I will attempt to come to the rescue.”

  “Attempt?”

  “There are, of course, timelines, where I am unable to help you, but those comprise a tiny fraction of all possible outcomes, I would not worry about it if I were you.”

  “I'll try not to.” said William, remembering the one half of one percent chance in the last world.

  Early the next morning, Sally read as much as she could about Arthurian legend, and medieval history.

  William arose well before dawn, they had both slept well, and were ready for an adventure. While they ate breakfast, and prepared for the day, William explained some of the parts of chivalry, medieval history and culture about which Sally had been unsure, he had been a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism when he was younger, and was well versed in medieval studies, although he wasn't sure how much of what he knew would be applicable here. He then showed Sally how to mount her horse, and she rode it around in the garage to get the feel. It would respond to both verbal commands and unspoken signals that Sally would give with her hands on the reigns and feet in the stirrups. Had it been a real horse, it most likely would have taken her significantly longer to master art of riding. William was by no means an expert rider, but he did have some riding experience. He found it extremely easy to adapt to the robotic horse. He gave her a primer on the use of medieval weapons, the ones Bob had produced were identical in appearance to the typical weapons of the day, but vastly superior in strength and sharpness. Sally kept playing with the sword, swinging it around, getting the feel of it.

  They loaded up supplies that Bob had prepared for them, Sally pointed out that, with her skills, they really needed to take very little, but William and Bob insisted, as it would save time if they didn't have to stop to make stone spearheads, and the such.

  They both donned their modified battle suits, and mounted their horses, (which were accurate copies of Percherons, and jet-black) and rode out the back of the Winnie, and around to the front, where Bedivere was still eating his breakfast, which seemed to consist of some sort of hard bread and wine. Bedivere stood, “Hail, Sir William and Lady Sally, I see that thou art well prepared, and so shall I be, shortly.” He went about packing his camp, which he completed quickly and efficiently.

  They rode until nearly noon, when they approached a small village, Bedivere hesitated, and William asked him what was wrong.

  “I am sore tempted to skirt this hamlet, and the next, so that I may finish my quest. In every village, there is delay,” he replied.

  William said, “It is your quest, and the decision is yours.”

  Sally, drawing on the limited information with which William had provided her on chivalry, said, “But, is it not also a knight's duty to provide aid when called upon?”

  Bedivere replied, “My Lady, 'tis the truth thouest speak, and though the quest may be the justification to begin a journey, frequently it is a knight's actions in the course of his quest that provide the true meaning of the quest. We shall proceed into this village.”

  William could not help noticing that Bedivere's speech was sounding more modern, he made a mental note to discuss the subject with him when they next set camp.

  The village was surrounded by high wooden wall, with sharpened spikes set along the top, pointing at what seemed to be random directions, outward and upward. The wall had obviously failed to deter whatever it was that it had been meant to keep out, as there was a large gap in one side, jagged, as if it had been punched through by a giant fist.

  They approached the open gate, Bedivere first, with William and Sally following behind, three men ran out, and fell to their knees. The largest, and best dressed of the three, who was still rather short, said, “Kind sirs, we thank the Lord that he has sent you to us, and we pray that you shall deliver us from the scourge that plagues us.”

  Bedivere spoke, “Stand up, and speak clearly, man. Is it a scourge or a plague? The former I may defeat, but against the latter, I am powerless.”

  “A giant, Sir Knight, he raids our stores, and kidnaps our virgins, please dispose of the beast.”

  “And how many virgins has he taken?”

  “Uh... well so far, just one, but she was my daughter, and who knows if he'll stop with her.”

  A second smaller man said, “Actually, there's some question as to whether or not she's a virgin.”

  “Shut up, Ralph, she was a virgin,” and then, whispering, “Don't you know anything, you idiot, knights rescue virgins. They're not going to bother with her if they find out she was a trollop.”

  The smaller man said, “That's right, sir, she was a virgin, I must have been thinking of someone else, little Elsie was most definitely a virgin.”

  “Actually, that's unicorns.” Bedivere said.

  “What?” both the men said.

  “Unicorns, it's unicorns that care about virgins, we knights couldn't give an ogre's behind what a woman does in the privacy of her own home.”

  “Hayloft, it was usually in the hayloft.” said the smaller man.

  “Behind the old mill.” said the third man.

  “Sometimes in the woods.” said somebody in the gathering crowd.

  “Yeah, that's right, the woods.” said another man.

  “Or in the old jail.” said another.

  “Or in the bell tower.” said a rather stout looking young woman.

  “I thought that was Freddy.” said someone else.

  “It was all three of us.” said the woman.

  The crowd erupted into a chaos of conversation and shouting. Bedivere turned to William and Sally, “Now, dost thouest understand my desire to pass by a town?” He turned back to the crowd and shouted, “Enough! Now tell me about the giant.”

  The large man said, “He was immense, at least twelve feet tall, he knocked that hole in the wall with a single blow of his mighty fist.”

  The second man again, “Actually, Geoffrey's six foot two, and the wall fell when he leaned on it, because we took the reinforcing timbers for firewood last month during that cold snap, when nobody wanted to go out into the woods.”

  “Well that's a lot taller than any one of us, so he's like a giant, and he did knock down the wall.”

  “He doesn't weigh as much as you, though.”

  “Enough of that, Ralph, now Sir, regardless of whether or not my daughter is or is not a virgin, and whether Geoffrey is or is not a giant, can you find h
er, and bring her back? She's my only child, and I miss her terribly.”

  “So do we.” said almost everybody in the crowd.

  “And what if she does not wish to return?” asked Bedivere.

  “Why would she want to stay with Geoffrey, when she has all of us?” said the second man.

  “You haven't been with Geoffrey.” said the stout woman.

  “Like you have.” said someone else.

  “The three of us,” she said, sighing, “God, I miss them.” She approached Bedivere, “Can you please bring them back, Sir, I love them both.”

  “I will do what I can.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” then she looked at Sally and smiled, “Hi, I'm Mattie, are you a knight?”

  “No, I'm Lady Sally, I am the consort of Sir William,” Sally said, pointing to William.

  “Oh..,” she said, “well maybe when you get back, we can become better acquainted.”

  Bedivere turned, “Young Lady, we are on a quest, no time for dilly-dallying.” Then to William and Sally, “We will be off right after lunch, now, where's the tavern?”

  Over a lunch of roast mutton, and a few ales for Bedivere, they discussed strategy, and the possible whereabouts of Elsie and Geoffrey. Then William broached the subject of language, “Sir Bedivere, I've noticed that, while everyone else says 'you' and 'yours', you say 'thee' and 'thine', why is that?”

  “Fine ones to talk, you are, with those strange accents and mannerisms.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It's required of all the knights of the Round Table, to talk in the old ways, we must take classes, you know. We have to pretend that things are still the same as they were under first King Arthur.”

  “The first Arthur?”

  “Yes,” he continued in a whisper, “The first King Arthur unified Britain over fifteen hundred years ago, and was so beloved of his people, that he and his court knew that no other King would be able to maintain control as well as he. So as he aged, Arthur chose from his knights, a successor, Sir Borre, who looked very much like him, if you know what I mean, and Borre became the new Arthur, and when he got older, he chose another as successor. And so, for Arthur's subjects, he became Arthur the Immortal, chosen by God to rule the Britons forever. And we, the Knights of the Round Table are charged with maintaining that legacy, so that Arthur will always be loved, and there will always be peace in the land.”