[King Arthur and Her Knights 01.0 - 03.0] Enthroned, Enchanted, Embittered

by KM Shea

  Gawain stood, inspecting the armor one last time. “You are ready, My Lord.”

  Merlin tilted his head, his eyes directed upwards. “And just in time. If I am not mistaken, I hear horns and drums. King Leodegrance is leaving the keep.”

  “In that case, we must hurry. This way, please,” the merchant said, leading the way to the small lot behind his store.

  Outside, a young groom waited with a milk white horse. The charger’s equipment was white, unadorned, and startling in its simplicity.

  “If this animal throws Arthur, I will have your head,” Merlin warned the merchant.

  Britt mounted the horse, who was a bit taller than she was used to, before she put her helm on. “No worries, Merlin. All he has to do is carry me up to Maleagant,” she said, gathering up the reins.

  “Godspeed, my Lord,” Gawain said.

  “I don’t understand the fuss over a horse,” Lancelot complained.

  “We don’t expect you to,” Britt said.

  “This way, My Lord. You need to hurry. The gates will soon open,” the merchant said, leading the way to the main road that ambled through the castle.

  Britt nudged the warhorse forward, joining the rush of gawkers and guards who were traveling to the front gates of Camelgrance.

  King Leodegrance, a squad of soldiers, his wife, and Guinevere exited Camelgrance a minute before Britt.

  More soldiers and many of Camelgrance’s citizens flocked outside, anxious to see what was to become of their home.

  Britt followed the crowd outside, but rather than standing with the masses, she directed her horse behind a soldier bearing Leodegrance’s flag, intending to hide since she stuck out like a sore thumb as the only armored knight in the entire company.

  Merlin, Gawain, and Lancelot joined her. Merlin held the bridle of Britt’s mount while Lancelot craned his neck to see.

  Maleagant, wearing armor and riding his red roan horse, brandished a lance in the air. “King Leodegrance of Camelgrance. What is your decision? Are you friend or foe?”

  “I am your friend,” King Leodegrance said.

  “Then you will give me your daughter Guinevere as my bride and prove to me your loyalty?” Maleagant demanded. His voice was hoarse and unfriendly.

  “What a blackguard,” Lancelot said.

  Gawain nodded, but Britt hissed, “Quiet.”

  King Leodegrance’s expression grew pinched. “How would you have me prove myself?”

  “Break off your alliance with Arthur and march with me to Camelot,” Maleagant said.

  “Isn’t it enough to pledge loyalty to you?” King Leodegrance said. “Gladly, I would give you my daughter.”

  Guinevere, mounted on a small palfrey, stared at her hands. Her face was red, probably from all the crying, but she wore a beautiful dress, and her hair was carefully arranged.

  “If you remain allies with Arthur, you are no friend of mine,” Maleagant said.

  “Now,” Merlin said.

  Britt nudged her horse forward, leaving her companions behind. Gawain bowed, and Lancelot beamed as he pumped an arm in encouragement.

  “Could I have more time to consider your request?” King Leodegrance asked.

  “No.”

  King Leodegrance’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Then…,” he trailed off and fell silent as Britt directed her horse into the gap between Maleagant and King Leodegrance’s family.

  “Who is this?” Maleagant demanded.

  “I know not. Sir Knight, why are you here?” King Leodegrance asked.

  Britt slid Excalibur out of its scabbard and brandished it in the air. She waited for a moment, looking quite picturesque, and then swung Excalibur down in an arc and thrust it in Maleagant’s direction. While prepping for battle, Merlin told her to keep her mouth shut and say nothing. “Let them draw their own conclusions. If Leodegrance discovers you’re King Arthur, we’ll never be able to refuse his request to make Guinevere your bride,” Merlin had warned.

  Although Britt was moved by the girl’s plight, in no way was Britt going to welcome the faithless girl into Camelot. She would remain silent to the bitter end.

  Maleagant flipped up the visor of his helm so he could peer at Britt. He had beady eyes, and his face looked like someone had taken a mace to it on several different occasions. “You mean to challenge me for the Lady Guinevere.”

  Britt dismounted her borrowed horse and bowed.

  “Very well, champion. I will face you with great eagerness,” Maleagant said, an evil grin crawling across his lips as he hefted his lance.

  Britt quickly raised Excalibur, pointing it at Maleagant.

  “I think he means for it to be a contest of swords,” King Leodegrance ventured in the silence.

  “Fine,” Maleagant said, handing his lance off to one of his men before he too dismounted. “Be it by sword or lance, I shall beat you soundly.”

  Britt eased into an offensive stance, studying Maleagant through the slits of her helm. She hated fighting in full armor thanks to its added weight. But in spite of what she learned in her history classes, her armor was easy to maneuver in and barely hindered her movements thanks to her height.

  Maleagant stiffly strode towards Britt, walking bowlegged. He unsheathed his sword and roared like a bear.

  Britt darted forward, striking first to gain the offensive advantage. Fighting and winning with the sword depended on going offensive and staying on the offense.

  Britt drove Maleagant back, feinting an upper cut before reversing and striking from below. She rained blow after blow on Maleagant, who struggled to block and dodge the strikes.

  The crowd from Camelgrance, which had first winced and watched with pain, started rustling with hope as Britt kicked Maleagant in the knee cap when he blocked her thrust to his right shoulder.

  The kick hadn’t hurt—he was wearing armor after all—but it did make Maleagant take a tottering step backwards.

  Exploiting his already tipsy balance, Britt dove forward and stabbed Excalibur at Maleagant’s foot, wedging it between the armor covering his foot and his ankle.

  She didn’t prick skin, but it hurt enough to make Maleagant fumble again. Britt jumped from the crouch she was in, using all her force to slam Maleagant in the helm with Excalibur’s pommel.

  Maleagant’s head snapped backwards, and Britt helped him lie down by pushing on his chest with her forearms.

  She kicked Maleagant’s sword away, placed her foot on his right wrist, and let the edge of Excalibur rest near a slit in Maleagant’s helm.

  King Leodegrance, realizing Britt wasn’t going to talk, spoke for her. “Do you yield to my daughter’s champion, Duke Maleagant?” he eagerly asked, leaning forward off his horse.

  Maleagant struggled, roaring with anger instead of replying.

  Britt used her foot to kick Maleagant’s arm away from his body—still pinning it to the ground, before pressing Excalibur into his unprotected armpit.

  Maleagant finally stilled, although Britt could tell he boiled with anger. His armor heaved up and down as he breathed inside his armor like a murderous dragon.

  “I yield,” Maleagant snarled.

  5

  A White Knight

  Britt prodded him in the arm pit, letting Excalibur’s sharp tip poke the padding that leaked out under Maleagant’s pauldrons before she stepped back.

  Some of Maleagant’s knights ran to their lord’s side, helping him stand even though he kicked at them.

  “Now remember, Duke Maleagant. You said you would leave should a champion best you,” King Leodegrance eagerly said, satisfaction lining his voice and face. One could hardly tell a few short minutes ago he was close to sniveling.

  Duke Maleagant roared in reply, sounding very much like an angry boar.

  Britt retreated to her horse, looking for Merlin and Gawain in the joyful crowd. (Lancelot could rot for all Britt cared.)

  Soldiers and subjects alike cheered, clapped, and shouted, making it very difficult to pick anyone
out of the crowd.

  Britt happened to glance at Guinevere and froze. The princess’s gaze was fastened on Britt. She wore a sickly sweet smile, and her eyes were big and dreamy.

  Sensing she ought to make a hasty exit—as much to avoid further confrontation from Maleagant as to avoid getting cornered by Guinevere—Britt mounted her white horse, throwing herself on in an ungainly manner.

  She turned the horse towards the distant forests—intending to meet up with her knights rather than return to Camelgrance, which was going to be a deathtrap now. She was just barely within shouting distance when she heard Guinevere call, “Wait, Sir Knight!”

  Britt heeled her horse and clung to the saddle as the charger jolted into a canter, swiftly carrying her away.

  When she reached the forest, Britt checked over her shoulder. No one had followed her. “That’s a miracle,” Britt muttered, directing her horse into the woods. “Although I suppose Leodegrance would ignore me. He doesn’t know I’m Arthur,” Britt said as she wove around trees.

  In a few minutes, Britt reached the small enclosure where her company previously pitched their camp. There were still signs of their stay, but there weren’t any horses or gear in sight.

  “Where did they go? Merlin said a few knights returned with Sir Bodwain, but at the very least Kay should be hanging around,” Britt said.

  Britt’s horse pawed the ground. “Maybe Merlin and Gawain have made it to the edge of the forest by now.” She turned the horse in a neat circle before nudging him back in the direction from which they came.

  Rather than follow the same trail, Britt took her mount through a different part of the forest. After all, who knew if Guinevere would beg Leodegrance to send soldiers after her? Britt was so intent on reaching the edge of the woods that she almost missed it, a glimmer of metal among the trees.

  Britt halted her horse. If I’m careful I can investigate it, she decided, changing directions.

  The glint was sunlight bouncing off a shield that was tied to a post.

  There was writing on the shield. Britt couldn’t read it, but when she spotted a small pile of shields arranged nearby, she could guess what it said. “PELLINORE,” she shouted. “PELLINORE!”

  “How do you know my name, mysterious knight?”

  Britt whipped around to find Pellinore at her back, dressed in armor and holding his horse’s bridle.

  “Although, it matters not. If you wish to fight me, I will not attempt to talk you out of it. Be warned, though, for I am a fierce warrior,” King Pellinore said.

  “What?! Pellinore, it’s me,” Britt said, briefly fumbling with her armor so she could remove her helm.

  “Oh, Arthur. I am glad to see you are back. Whose horse are you riding?” Pellinore asked, relaxing his stance.

  “Never mind that, what does the writing on the shield say?” Britt asked.

  Pellinore avoided Britt’s eyes and tucked his chin against his neck.

  “Pellinore, what does it say?”

  “Whoso smiteth this shield doeth so—”

  “Pellinore,” Britt groaned.

  “Your foster brother, Sir Kay, has taken your knights and ridden around Camelgrance these past two days. He asked me to remain behind to watch your equipment and mounts. What was I to do? I had to amuse myself somehow,” Pellinore said.

  “I suppose it could have been worse. At least you didn’t run off after the Questing Beast,” Britt sighed. “Where is Kay now?”

  “I’m not certain, but he is likely to return soon. Where are Merlin, Sir Gawain, and Sir Lancelot? Did they not find you in Camelgrance?”

  “No, we met up. We were separated in the crowd.”

  “Crowd?”

  “I accepted Maleagant’s challenge and championed King Leodegrance and his family,” Britt said.

  “Congratulations on your victory,” Pellinore smiled.

  “How did you know I won?”

  “You are too skilled to lose,” Pellinore shrugged.

  “Arthur?”

  Britt looked up to see Sir Kay and the remaining knights leading their horses through the trees. “Kay,” Britt said, flashing him a sincere smile. “I am glad to see you,” she said, sliding off her borrowed horse.

  Sir Kay was at her side to steady her when she landed on the ground with a jarring bounce. He traced her armor with narrowed eyes. “You are not hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” Britt smiled.

  “You should have told me your plans before you left for Camelgrance.”

  “You’re right. I should have. It was my mistake, and I am sorry for it,” Britt said.

  “Next time, please tell me. I will not try to keep you from going, but I would like to accompany you,” Sir Kay said.

  Britt placed her hand on his shoulder. “I thank you, and I will remember that.”

  Sir Kay nodded and pitched his voice even quieter than usual. “You are not typically so impetuous. Is everything alright?”

  Britt hooked her helm on her horse’s tack. “It is. I was conflicted. Leodegrance isn’t exactly how I pictured him.”

  “And it bothers you?”

  “More than I would like to admit.”

  “I say, My Lord. You were the white knight who fought Maleagant, were you not?” Sir Bedivere asked, joining Britt and Kay.

  “I was. You saw?” Britt asked.

  “We saw,” Ywain said, joining the group with a smile. “You were wonderful, My Lord.”

  Sir Bedivere glanced at the younger knight before he added, “We were all posted in various hidden locations surrounding Camelgrance. I was in the forest and was able to see the fight. Not very well, though. Congratulations. As usual, you were stupendous.”

  “You fought Maleagant?” Sir Kay said.

  “Merlin said I could,” Britt quickly said, able to sense the displeasure behind Sir Kay’s statement.

  “How did you manage to convince him?” Sir Kay suspiciously asked, his eyebrow twitching.

  Britt avoided Sir Kay’s gaze. “Well, it was for one of our allies so…Lancelot thought it was a terrific idea,” Britt blurted out.

  Sir Kay narrowed his eyes.

  “He spoke of ballads and troubadours and thought I should challenge Maleagant to a joust instead of a sword fight,” Britt said.

  Sir Kay looked into the forest. “Where is Sir Lancelot now?”

  Having managed to redirect Sir Kay’s ire, Britt almost sighed in relief. “He’s with Merlin and Gawain. I imagine they’ll be here soon. They are on foot.”

  “Humph,” Sir Kay said before striding off.

  “I suspect the army will no longer be necessary based on the outcome of your battle with Maleagant. Correct, My Lord?” Sir Bedivere asked.

  “Perhaps,” Britt said. “I’m not convinced Maleagant will stay true to his word. Is there any news from Sir Bodwain?”

  “None. He only left for home yesterday morn. It will be a week at the earliest before he would be able to arrive with any men,” Sir Bedivere said.

  “I was afraid of that,” she said. “How many knights remained here?” She tried to count the swirl of armor clad knights.

  “Fifteen, including Gawain and Lancelot, My Lord.”

  “What-ho. Greetings companions!”

  Britt ground her teeth and forced her expression into a smile. “Lancelot, so you’ve returned. Hello, Merlin, Gawain,” Britt said as the trio trooped out of the woods and into the camp.

  “I must say, My Lord, that was an astounding fight. I never thought I would live to see someone so skilled as you! You are far better at swordplay than I. Some time—assumedly when we return to Camelot—would you mind watching my form? I would greatly appreciate any advice you could give me. Oh, hello, Sir Kay,” Lancelot chattered.

  Britt almost wished the chattery knight had claimed to be a better swordsman than her. It would give her another reason to hate him. Instead, she was forced to settle for joyfully watching the stone-faced Kay step in front of Lancelot.

  Sir Kay studie
d the younger knight for a few moments before making a derogatory, “Hm,” and walking off.

  Lancelot looked to Gawain, who ignored the exchange and bowed to Britt. “You did wonderfully well, My Lord.”

  “You were lucky, that’s what you were,” Merlin griped. “One day, you are going to meet someone better than you are, and they will teach you a lesson.”

  “What? Nonsense,” Ywain protested.

  “Forgive me for saying so, Merlin, but I cannot agree with you,” King Pellinore said. “Arthur isn’t just skilled; he’s as gifted as one of God’s warriors.”

  “Hear, hear,” Sir Bedivere nodded.

  Merlin scowled, and it was Gawain who intervened. “Pardon me, Merlin, but you have not faced My Lord with a sword, nor would you understand as we do, for you have your magic arts. When one faces My Lord and he is serious, it makes his family heritage show.”

  “It makes his faerie blood show. I met Uther. He did not have the talent his son possesses. No, our young dragon has no equal when it comes to the sword, Merlin. Do not worry over such a thing,” King Pellinore said.

  Merlin turned to Britt. “Do not let what they say go to your head. You would still be quite easy to kill,” he warned her.

  “I know,” she sighed. “What happened after I left?”

  Merlin snorted. “A chaotic mess. The lady Guinevere was dreamy-eyed and lovesick, as was every other maiden in the crowd. Maleagant roared more than necessary, and King Leodegrance grew a bit of a backbone since you won. Maleagant is, of course, demanding to know your identity, as is Lady Guinevere.”

  “Do you think Maleagant will honor his word and leave?” Britt asked.

  “Of course, he will,” Lancelot said. “He can hardly take back his vow, and you defeated him so soundly!”

  Gawain looked unconvinced, and Merlin said, “I do not hold the same conviction as you, Sir Lancelot. I suspect he will try to wiggle out of it.”

  “So, what do we do now?” Ywain asked.

  “We will spend the night here. As we will not have daylight much longer, it hardly makes sense to begin our journey now, and I would feel better knowing what Maleagant is doing,” Merlin frowned.