New Jersey Yankee In King Arthur's Court

by P McAuley, Robert

  “And,” added Triston, “if we lose this battle the girls are gonna want to leave with us.”

  “Dude!” said Lionell, “It’s also what we been practicing for, you know like, riding our horses and all.”

  Garret stood and addressed Arthur and Guinevere. “And we got pretty good at the riding thing, too.”

  Arthur stood and held up his open hands. “Alright, alright, you persuaded me. You guys can suit up and ride in with us.”

  “Us?” said Delvlen as he looked up at Arthur, “you were going to ride in the attack? Without us?” he shook his head. “No way, dude! If you ride in, we do too.” He turned to the others. “Right, guys?”

  They all stood and nodded.

  Arthur turned to Guinevere. “These guys are the best. No way we lose this fight.”

  The rest of the Camelot Gang eating their mid-day meal all turned to look at the small group around their King and Queen as they shouted: “Keansburg Rules!” quickly followed by Guinevere hushing them.

  The sun was low in the sky as the march continued when Arthur and Guinevere saw two shepherds waving at them from a tree-covered hill up ahead.

  “It be our scouts, Sires,” said Sir Boche waving back. This be the spot they picked for us ta hide for ta’morrow. We be but six miles ta Sir Fat Albert’s camp.”

  Arthur nodded approvingly as he looked the tree-covered hill over. “Sir Boche, dost thou believe that Sir Fat Albert sends scouts out?”

  “Methinks, Sire, that Sir Fat Albert feels secure knowing what he be attacking thou and so he doth not send scouts out so far from his camp. But, methinks he doth post guards about his camp.”

  “Okay, we camp here among the trees for tonight and all day tomorrow. And the lights-out rule is in effect.”

  “Sir Boche,” said Guinevere interpreting for Arthur. “Thine king says ta make sure there be no fires nor tents this night. An’ tomorrow all must stay quiet and rest.”

  The knight left to give the final orders for the night.

  The daylong march made even the strongest of the Camelot Gang happy to turn in early. As there were no fires to gather around and just before it got too dark, Arthur and Guinevere walked among the many groups saying good night. Later they lay side-by-side looking up at the stars.

  Arthur squeezed her hand as a shooting star flew overhead. “My Mom and Dad are watching over us.”

  The sun rose and the sounds of the camp waking up were muffled, as all observed the no ‘un-needed talk’ rule. Arthur and Guinevere were eating cold, hard-boiled eggs that Ron had sliced and placed on day-old bread, as were most of the others.

  “Boy,” said Arthur as a chill ran through him. “I sure miss waking up in our nice, warm bed back in Camelot.”

  “Me too,” said Guinevere.

  He sipped his tin cup of cold milk, “And I really miss my cup of coffee.”

  There was a slight popping sound and Merlin’s voice sounded behind them. “Good morning, my friends.”

  “Hey Merlin,” answered Arthur, “come and have some eggs and rolls with us.”

  The tall man sat on the dew-laden grass. “Thank you, I will.” He looked around. “You two slept here last night?”

  “Yeah. We traveled light, no tents or cots. Where did you sleep?”

  Merlin had a ‘what are you serious?’ look on his face as he answered, “My room, back at Camelot.”

  “But how could you have slept there and gotten here so fast?”

  Merlin cocked an eye. “Arthur, Arthur. I can appear where I want . . . or at least close to where I want. I really had to walk a few miles last night. But, it’ll all come back to me.”

  Guinevere handed him an egg sandwich. “And how’s James doing?”

  “The young boy should be here any minute as this was to be our meeting place for morning-meal.”

  Just then one of the shepherd scouts entered the area, bowed and said, “Sires, someone comes this way.” He pointed to a clearing outside of the camp.

  Merlin smiled. “Why that’s James now.” He turned to the scout. “Thank thee. It be our friend, James.” The boy bowed and went back to do his impression of ‘looking for his lost sheep’ as he scouted for any of Sir Albert’s men.

  Five minutes later James entered and bowed. “Sires. Forgive my tardiness as I seem ta have missed my appearin’ spot an’ had ta walk a bit.”

  Merlin slapped him on his back playfully. “Good ta see ya, young Wizard. An’ worry not, why even I miss an appearing spot sometimes. You’ll get it. Now, sit an’ eat whilst ye tells us of yer adventures.”

  Twenty minutes later Arthur and Guinevere spoke to Sir Boche. “All is set for this night’s attack on Sir Albert’s camp,” said Arthur. “Just before it gets dark we march and set up our weapons of fear and superstition. Their archers have all left and we have the knights’ pages and serfs ready to loosen their saddles. I’m about to send in another secret weapon.”

  He waved and out of the tree line came a horse-drawn wagon carrying three young lads and a load of hay. They drove the wagon over to where they stood and stopped before them.

  With a smile Arthur said, “Hail, lads. Here be the letter to give to Sir Albert along with thy hidden treasure.” He passed the letter sealed with red melted candle wax to the driver and parted the hay to see the large barrel of Mead tied down. “Good luck, my friends.” They watched as the boy tapped the horse on the rump and it took them out towards the valley.

  “Ya know,” Arthur said to Guinevere as they watched them enter the valley, “Just maybe the gift will make Sir Fat Albert come to his senses and make friends rather than war.”

  “Hope so, but I doubt it very much. He’ll see it as a weakness in us and it’ll make him believe that he’ll be fighting a bunch of losers.”

  “Good. Let him drink to that.”

  Mid-day meal was just a continuation of morning-meal for Sir Albert as he feasted on wild boar with ten of his men as six, thin boys and girls stood ready to serve them more.

  “When I be king,” he said as he picked his teeth between servings. “I shall raise wild boar that we might dine on it whenever we feel the need for it.”

  “Then a king yee shall soon be, Sir Albert,” shouted one of his men.

  “Now there be a good man,” said the big man at the head of the food-strewn table.

  A foot soldier entered the room. “Sir Albert, a letter fer yee from Castle Camelot.”

  “What? Gall! Tis gall! Being it here, dolt!”

  The soldier grimaced as he approached the table and passed it to one of Sir Albert’s men.”

  The large man ripped off a chunk of roasted pork. “Read it!”

  The man looked and sheepishly passed it to the man next to him. “Wouldst thou read this as mine eyes be smarting from the smoke o’ yon fireplace.”

  That man begged the same ailment as he passed it on as did the next and the one after him until finally one read it aloud: My good Sir Albert. I send thee a gift to mend a rift between us. Methinks it does a knight well to sip good Mead when much be on thy mind. Mayhaps tomorrow we be friends? Should thou agree to be mine friend and not mine enemy, pray come to Camelot Castle and partake of food with thine Queen and myself.

  Thine friends, King Arthur and Queen Guinevere.

  The big man stood and roared making all at the table cringe. “King Arthur an’ Queen Guinevere? Who dost this lowly boy think I bee? A dolt? I think not, boy Arthur and girl Guinevere. Methinks that in three days time thou shalt be livin’ in Castle Camelot’s basement in irons.” He drank down a large mug of ale and turned to the men at the table. “What gift dost this boy send me? Pray, bring it to me now.” He sat heavily and started in on the boar again.

  Within five minutes two boys rolled in the barrel of Mead.

  “Place it here,” shouted Sir Albert as he pointed to the tabletop and sat back as the two boys wrestled the full barrel up on top of the table.

  Sir Albert looked at his men. “Open it!”

 
One took his sword out, and, with its handle, rammed the cork into the barrel. They all watched as foam flowed out onto the table and then the floor. Sir Albert tipped the barrel and poured a tankard of Mead and passed it to the man closest to him.

  “Drink, Sir George and tell me if this Mead be a gift fit fer me ta drink.”

  The knight’s hand trembled as he put the tankard up to his lips and took a sip as all watched to see if it was poisoned. Another quickly followed his first sip and he quickly finished the mug and put it down on the table.

  “Gadzooks! This be good Mead.” He held the mug up for another drink and Sir Albert smacked it away.

  “Best let me have some ta see if it be worthy fer me.” He filled his tankard and took a sip. His eyes opened wide and he hefted it to his men and said, “To the King of England, King Albert the First!” He downed half of it in one gulp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “Forsooth! This be good Mead! This I must say of the boy, he hast good Mead at Castle Camelot an’ me hopes he doth not drink it all afore I get there.”

  His men all laughed and joined in on getting their share of the powerful drink.

  The Camelot Gang had their evening-meal earlier than usual as they prepared for their march on Sir Albert’s camp. As hoped for, there was a westerly breeze blowing at their backs and the kite flyers were happy knowing that the breeze would carry their kites over the enemy camp. Arthur and Guinevere walked through the crowds giving them last minute encouragement while trying to keep them quiet. The wagons had rags wrapped around their wheels to keep them as quiet as possible and everyone walked their horses.

  “This is it,” said Arthur to Guinevere as he looked up at the rising moon. She nodded as he raised his arm and brought it down as he pointed forward and said in a low voice, “Forward, Ho!” The Camelot Gang started out to cover the last six miles between them and Sir Albert’s camp.

  The three shepherds trotted ahead on padded slippers as they led the way. When they were just one mile away and could see the campfires of Sir Albert’s camp, Arthur halted the gang. He sent Ron back with a message to all: Stay where you are and lay down and rest.

  Arthur walked on with Merlin and they stopped on a hill overlooking the camp as they planned where to set up the weapons of fright and superstition. When they were satisfied, they went back to their camp.

  Once again he sent Ron down the line with a message: Weapon wagons forward with their operators.

  Arthur stood and stopped them as they approached. “Follow me and Wizard Merlin,” he whispered, “We will show yee where ta set up the weapons.” He stepped out and they followed.

  Once in front of Sir Albert’s camp, he spread them along a line facing the camp. There were eleven wagons and each had an even amount of flying lanterns; kites with flour bombs attached; kites with candles attached to their tails; kites with faces painted on them and candles mounted in the rear for illumination and Frisbees. Each wagon also had two acrobats with their stilts and demon heads mounted on the top end of the stilts.

  “Don’t do anything until I tell you. Understand, my friends?” Smiles and nods told him they understood.

  Arthur was suddenly sweating and thought as he started back to the rest of the gang, Oh man, I hope this works and nobody gets hurt. He looked up at the dark sky. Hey, Mom and Dad. Can you watch that this goes okay? I don’t want anyone to get hurt, especially our guys. He stopped and rubbed his hands together. And if you two ever thought of becoming grandparents, ya just gotta watch out for Guinevere. Talk to ya later . . . love you.

  The rest of the gang were lying on the ground so they didn’t become silhouettes against the rising moon and Arthur was impressed as even though he knew where they were, he couldn’t spot them.

  Ron arose as though out of nowhere and asked, “Sire, dost thou be ready fer me ta deliver thine next message?”

  Slightly startled, Arthur answered as he slowly made out Merlin and Guinevere stepping out of the shadows. “Yes, Ron. Tell them to line up on the road now and follow me. I want them to fill in, evenly between the wagons. Remind them that nobody is to attack until I say so. Got that?”

  “Aye, Sire.”

  “Then go and tell them all: Good luck from me and the queen.”

  Ron disappeared into the darkness.

  Arthur turned to Merlin and saw James next to him. “Perfect timing, guys. Remember, when the flying lanterns start lifting off, that’s when you two do your disappearing act and create havoc in their midst. Okay?”

  Merlin placed a hand on James’s shoulder. “We be ready Arthur.” He looked down at the boy. “Right, James?”

  “Aye, Wizard Merlin. We be ready.”

  Arthur shrugged his shoulders. “Then I guess it really is time to go.”

  Guinevere grabbed his arm. “Arthur, no matter what happens, I love you.” She kissed him.

  “And I love you too, my queen.”

  Muffled sounds from the road told them that the Camelot Gang was waiting for him to give the order to march the last mile, so he went to the head of the line and mounted his horse. He was happily surprised when Sir Boche high-fived him. “Sires, this be our day.”

  “Right you are, Sir Boche. Let’s ride.” He turned and gave the usual wave forward as he said in a stage whisper, “Forward, ho!” The line started forward.

  The mile was covered just as the moon was at it’s highest. Arthur had positioned the first wagon right in front of their line of march so he could easily find it in the dark. Although he couldn’t see them, he knew that there were five more wagons spread out to his right and another five to his left. The Camelot Gang quickly split up and filled the spaces between the wagons so there was a continuous line of them from left to right in front of Sir Albert’s camp, and Arthur stood in the center.

  He was happy to see the flying lanterns lined up in front of the wagon and he knew the other wagons had the same setup. His eye were now adjusted to the dark and he saw the kite flyers standing in front of them holding their kites as they felt the strong breeze tug at them. As planned, one person from each group reported back to Arthur when they were set. He nodded and went to the leader of the group of the wagon he stood by.

  “Light thy flying lanterns.” He looked at the lad to his right and said, “Send the order to light the flying lanterns, down the line.” He watched as the boy told the lad next to him the King’s message, and that boy did the same to the lad next to him. He then turned to the boy on his left and gave the same order and watched as he passed the order down the line to his left.

  Within minutes the heat of the candles filled the parchment bags and they lifted up and away from the ground. All watched as the stiff breeze caught them and drifted them over the lines of Sir Albert’s camp.

  One minute Merlin and James stood next to Arthur and Guinevere and the next minute they were gone.

  There was the beginning of a stir inside Sir Albert’s camp as the guards started seeing small flickering lights in the sky. They started to ask each other what sort of an omen this was when suddenly Merlin dressed in his long, flowing black gown and pointed hat appeared among them.

  In his scariest voice, he boomed, “This be the beginning of the end! Tis the ghosts of demons and giants that be buried ‘neath these very grounds come back ta punish all fer bein’ here. Run we must, lest we be dragged down to Hades.”

  The superstitious men had been hearing rumors all day of ghosts and demons and when they witnessed them they didn’t wait long to flee their posts. As they ran, a knight who was turning in late saw them running and called for them to stop.

  “No, Sire! Look at yon sky an’ see ghosts and giants comin’ ta take us away ta Hades.”

  The knight drew his sword to stop them but he looked up and saw the lights floating, seemingly at him. He ran shouting an alarm waking up other knights, their pages and serfs. They ran out of their tents and followed the knight’s finger pointing up and their screams added to the growing mayhem. The pages and serfs who kn
ew of the event shouted: “Tis as the Wizard said! Tis giants and demons come ta take us ta Hades fer bein’ here on sacred grounds.”

  Panic was setting in and many a knight who had been drinking with Sir Albert ran from their tent and stepped in their own campfire as they looked up. Sparks added to the confusion as more than a few tents caught fire and the smoke made eyes water.

  Young James appeared by the group of kids he had been with the day before and they rejoiced as he did so. “Tis, James! Our very own Wizard! He be here ta save us.” Others who had not seen him before but had heard of him, saw his appearance and they joined in adding to the chaos.

  “Send up the lighted kites,” said Arthur and his order was relayed both to his right and left. The kites had a candle placed inside a square of parchment so the fire wouldn’t be blown out, attached to their tails. The kite flyers held the string tight as their assistants lit the candles. Next they slowly fed out the string, which held the kite and were rewarded by seeing their charges’ fly up and over the enemy camp, mingling with the flying lanterns that were still being sent up.

  As the kites flew overhead their tails whipped about creating a dancing flame in the dark skies over the superstitious men below. The Gang from Camelot Castle could now hear shouting from Sir Albert’s camp, but, as briefed by Arthur, they kept silent and let their ghosts and demons speak for them.

  A knight, still half dressed in his armor, ran out of one of the larger tents and stopped in front of Merlin. His breath smelled of Mead and his eyes told Merlin that he could be dangerous and had to be handled gently. The man snarled and said, “Who be thee? An’ how be thou dressed? Methinks thou art a demon.”

  Merlin looked at him and said in his best wrestler’s voice: “I be one of the demons what hath come ta take thou an’ thine friends down with me ta Hades. What say yee ta that?”