"A girl told him."
"A girl! A sorceress?" The woman's voice was tight and sharp.
"No, Lady! I'd swear it! She was some peasant girl who saw me attack Kai and overheard our conversation! Bad luck, but not sorcery!"
"I don't like it, though. Lancelot is the one man who should not be here."
"What should I do with him? Shall we wait for the trial by combat? I set the date for a week from now, because I wanted to talk to you first. I can kill him, you know."
"You?" There was scorn in the woman's voice. "Not in your wildest imaginings!"
Sir Meliagant hesitated, and when he spoke, Sarah could hear the anger throbbing behind his deferential tones. "Perhaps not normally, Lady, but this time I can. His right hand is wounded, and you know that won't heal while he is in the Wounded Land. Besides, I have an extra edge."
"Don't imagine that my magic will save you from his sword, Meliagant."
"Not your magic, Lady—his own magic."
"What are you talking about? Lancelot has no magic."
"Not of his own, perhaps, but he has magical friends. He had with him a magic cordial that is said to double the swordsmanship of anyone who drinks it."
"Nonsense. I've never heard of such a potion, and, even if it existed, where would Lancelot get such a cordial?"
"From the Lady of the Lake," Sir Meliagant replied promptly.
Now the woman was silent, and when she spoke her voice trembled slightly. "So. I warned you Nimue might take a hand, didn't I? She has always had an interest in Lancelot. And a potion that increases swordsmanship sounds like her. The wench has always been obsessed with swords."
"Shall I use the potion then, at the trial?"
"No, little man, you shall not. I know you would love to be the one who kills the great Sir Lancelot, but I prefer to do things my way. Leave him to me."
"Will you just kill him, then?"
"Don't be a fool. You know nothing of the magical world, but we do have rules. If I were to murder someone under your own roof, it would utterly destroy all the spells that I've cast here to protect you from outsiders. That's why we couldn't just execute the queen and Sir Kai. The Law of Hospitality is a horribly ill-conceived rule, which I shall change once I control everything, but for now we must at least appear to honor it. No, as I say, leave Lancelot to me."
"Yes, Lady."
"He will not appear at the trial," the woman said. "And by not appearing will forfeit the test. Guinevere will be proven guilty, by law, which will release us from the Law of Hospitality. Then you will kill them both."
"Yes, Lady."
"My time is coming, Meliagant. With Guinevere, Kai, and Lancelot gone, Arthur will be alone."
"Yes, Lady. Except—"
"Except what?" she snapped.
"What about Sir Gawain, Lady?"
"Ah, yes, my meddlesome son and his revolting squire. A pity that he isn't here for me to deal with as well. I find it so disappointing that my own son is on the side of my enemy. Has he no family loyalty?"
"What would you do with him if he were here?"
"Crush him, of course. Farewell, Meliagant. I shall be back soon. Be ready for me."
Then there was a rush of wind, then stillness, then the sound of Meliagant's footsteps retreating down the hall.
"An enchantress," Sarah said, sinking slowly and sitting on the steps. "An enchantress is behind it all. Just what the crone said."
"What crone?" Charis demanded.
"An old woman, an enchantress herself, that I met on my journey here. She asked me if I had heard anything about an enchantress involved in the queen's capture."
"Not just any enchantress, either," Charis added. "Didn't that woman say she was Sir Gawain's mother?"
"I wish I could tell Terence," Sarah said softly. "That's Sir Gawain's squire."
"We have to talk to other people first," Charis said, standing. "We must warn Sir Lancelot that that woman is going to do something to him."
Sarah rose hastily to her feet and took Charis's hand. "You're right. Lead the way."
But when they came to the prison hall, they knew at once they were too late. Nearly a dozen guards lay sprawled along the hallway, deep in charmed sleep, and at the end of the hall, Jean's door stood open. He was gone.
For two days and two nights the girls roamed the castle halls, but although they were able to retrieve Sarah's sword and hide it in Charis's room, they found no sign of Jean. On the third day, Char is obtained permission from her father (without even using her brainless-girl act) to go riding in the surrounding countryside with Sarah. Sir Meliagant overheard their plans but, to Sarah's surprise, made no objection. Indeed, he seemed almost amused. "Go ahead," he said, looking right at Sarah. "Ride wherever you want, if you think it will do any good."
If Sir Meliagant meant that they would find nothing, he was right. They rode to the gorge where the Sword Bridge had been, but there was nothing there, and Sarah saw no sign of Ariel on the other side. Then they rode into the forests around the castle, but every direction they took they came to a barrier they could not cross. Sometimes it was a deep chasm, but most of the time it was a rushing river. They couldn't have escaped even had they wanted to: Logres Castle was completely surrounded by water.
It was good to get away from the castle and from the fear that someone was listening behind every door, though. The girls talked freely as they rode. Charis told of her life at Logres, an increasingly confined life since her brother effectively usurped her father's power, leaving the king nothing to do but play with his clothes and redecorate the rooms.
"But your father ... I'm sorry, Charis, but does your father want to do anything except play with clothes and decorate rooms?"
Charis was silent for a moment, then sighed. "Perhaps not. Perhaps he's not the cleverest man, let alone the cleverest king, but in the old days everyone loved him, so he can't have been too horrible a ruler. Better than Meliagant, anyway."
Sarah couldn't argue with that. For her part, she told Charis about her childhood with her mother and Mordecai, and then about their murders. She realized with a pang that she had not thought about her grief for the past few days, but she wept as she told the tale, and her heart yearned for her mother with a renewed ache. Then she told Charis about meeting Sir Kai and the queen and about the ensuing quest. When she was done, Charis was silent for a long time. At last she said quietly, "Now I am humbled. All I had to complain of was being confined and ignored."
"Our stories aren't that different," Sarah said. "We've both had what we love best taken away by men. I lost my mother. You lost yourself."
"But you set out to make things right."
"No, I set out to get revenge."
"But I did nothing at all. I wish I were brave like—" Charis's hands flew to her mouth, and she stifled a squawk of alarm. "What is that thing?"
They were riding alongside the river, only about two miles from the castle itself, and had just ridden out of a thicket into a small clearing, where the most horrible beast Sarah had ever seen or imagined lay dead in the grass. It was as large as Mordecai's wagon and was covered with black scales from the tip of its tail to the top of its seven long, snaky, headless necks. Lying in the grass before them was one of the severed heads. The girls' horses shied away.
Sarah patted her horse's trembling neck. "I don't know what it is. I'm glad I'm seeing it this way instead of alive, though. Who do you think killed it?"
"Whoever did it was hurt," Charis said. She pointed at the head. Its fierce teeth were clamped together in the rigor of death, but Sarah could see caught in those teeth a twisted and bloody length of chain mail.
"Gawain," Sarah said softly.
The girls dismounted and began to hunt in the bushes near the little clearing. Sarah found one footprint, half hidden under a bush, but other than that they saw nothing. After almost an hour, they walked back toward their horses. Sarah bit her lower lip anxiously. "He must be alive, or we would have found his body, but whe
re could he have crawled and hidden so well?"
Charis said something that sounded like "Urlp."
Sarah glanced anxiously at her friend. Charis was staring at their horses, where a pale man in leather clothes leaned weakly against her mount. It was Terence.
"Lady Sarah," Terence said. His voice was faint and his face wan.
"Squire Terence," Sarah said, instinctively stepping forward and holding out her hand.
Terence took her hand in his and almost at once began to look stronger. "Thank you," Terence said. His face grew less ashen, and his lips curved. "I see that we were wrong, after all. We should have brought you with us from the crossroads."
"I don't think so," Sarah replied, "although I'll admit I was angry enough when I woke up that morning. But I came on with Jean, and that was probably better."
"Jean?"
"The knight we passed in the dung cart that day," Sarah explained. "This is Charis. She's King Bagdemagus's daughter, and she's helping us."
"Pleased to meet you, my lady. Then you've found them? Sir Meliagant was behind the abduction?"
"No, that was ... someone else. But Sir Meliagant is involved, and things are in a terrible fix. How is Gawain?"
"Bad," Terence said. "He has a wound in his side from that creature over there, and although it's been three days, it just won't seem to—"
"Heal?" Sarah interjected. Terence nodded. "It won't, you know. Sir Kai and Jean are wounded, too, and they won't heal, either. It's an enchantment."
Terence shook his head briskly, as if shaking off cobwebs. "I thought you didn't believe in enchantments," he commented.
"Please don't be stupid," Sarah said. "We don't have time. Can Gawain fight?"
Charis suddenly clapped her hands. "Of course! Sir Gawain can take Sir Lancelot's place and fight Meliagant at the trial!"
"Sir Lancelot?" Terence demanded. Then something lit his eyes. "Now I see! Jean Le Forestier! Was he the knight in the cart?"
"Yes, yes," Sarah said to Terence. She nodded at Charis. "That is what I was thinking. Again, Terence, can Gawain fight?"
"He shouldn't," Terence said. "He's lost a lot of blood. But that's his own decision. Come on, I'll take you to him."
A minute later Terence ushered them into a shelter made of woven branches and leaves. Sarah realized that in her search for Gawain she had walked not ten feet away from it and hadn't seen a thing. Inside the shelter, Gawain leaned against a tree. He looked weak, but his eyes lit up when he saw Sarah. "My lady!" he said, reaching out to her. "Can you forgive me for leaving you in your sleep? It was ill done and officious of me, and I have regretted it almost since I left."
Sarah nodded, smiling, and something lightened in her heart. "It has worked out for the best, I think," she said, sitting beside the wounded knight. "Is your wound bad?"
Gawain smiled. "I've been hurt worse."
"Really, milord?" Terence asked, one eyebrow lifted. "When was that?"
Gawain shrugged. "All right. I've been hurt nearly this bad before." He glanced at Terence, then sighed. "Yes, it's bad."
Sarah slumped dejectedly. "Then we're in trouble."
"Tell us the story, why don't you?" Terence said, sitting beside her. "You don't mind if I hold your hand while you talk, do you? I don't know why, but I feel stronger when I'm touching you."
"Of course you may. Take Charis's hand on your other side, too. That will help as well." She looked consideringly at Terence. "How much of your blood is faery blood, anyway?"
Terence looked startled, but he said, "Half, my lady. On my father's side."
"That explains it, then," Sarah said. "You're faery enough that the enchantment affects you, but you're human enough that you could at least come here." At Gawain's and Terence's bewildered expressions, Sarah explained, "You see, there's an enchantment on the whole land of Logres, something that keeps out the Seelie Court. Ariel wasn't able to enter it at all. I'm not sure why, but it helps if the faery is touching a human. There's another enchantment, or maybe another part of the same one, that keeps wounds from healing. Meliagant called this 'The Wounded Land.' Sir Kai and Jean—I mean, Sir Lancelot—have unhealed wounds as well."
"Sir Lancelot?" Gawain repeated, dazedly.
"And you say this enchantment is over the whole land of Logres?" Terence asked. Sarah nodded, and Terence shook his head slowly. "What sort of enchanter is strong enough to cast a spell over a whole land?"
"Not enchanter," Sarah said. "Enchantress."
Terence's grip on Sarah's hand tightened. "Do you know the name of this enchantress?"
Sarah shook her head, then took a deep breath. "No, but you do. It's Gawain's mother."
The knight and the squire looked soberly at each other. "You were right," Gawain said at last. "You never really believed she was dead."
"Every generation, a different plot," Terence said. "So this time she's using Sir Meliagant?"
"Yes," Sarah said. "And unless we can find Sir Lancelot, Meliagant will execute Sir Kai and the queen."
Gawain said again, "Sir Lancelot?"
"He was the knight we passed in the dung cart," Sarah explained. "He and I came on together, crossing by the other bridge."
"I hope your bridge was easier than ours," Gawain remarked.
"I was about to say the same to you," Sarah replied.
Then she told their story, as concisely as she could, omitting only the part about her killing of the knight of the fires. As she concluded, she explained about the trial by combat that was to take place in four days and about Jean's disappearance. When she was done, Gawain closed his eyes tiredly. Even the effort of staying awake through Sarah's tale seemed to have been too much for him. Terence caught Sarah's eyes and shook his head slowly.
"He's too weak, isn't he?" Sarah asked.
"Yes," Terence replied.
"Don't be ridiculous," Gawain said, without opening his eyes. "I'll rest here for three days, then trot off and fight Meliagant if you haven't found Lancelot. I'll be fine."
"As you wish, milord," Terence said. "But if you are to fight, you should rest now."
"Yes, Mother," Gawain replied, but he slumped forward gratefully. Terence jerked his head toward the forest outside, and the three rose, still holding hands, and went out.
"He can't fight like that," Sarah said bluntly. "And he won't be able to in three days, either."
"No," Terence said. "I shall have to fight instead."
"With me holding your hand all the while to help you stay on your feet?" Sarah asked scornfully. "You were about to faint when we saw you by our horses."
"I know," Terence said with a sigh.
"Our only hope is to find Jean," Sarah said. "Have you seen anyone?"
"No," Terence said. "We've seen no once since we killed the beast."
"Then you did kill that creature," Charis said, in an awestruck voice.
"Yes, though I still hardly believe it myself," Terence said. "It nearly had us. After we left you, Sarah, we came to the densest forest I've ever seen. Even I couldn't slip through it, and after an hour of trying to cut a way for our horses, we left them behind and went on foot. For three days we hacked and slashed. My own sword is ruined. If we hadn't had Gawain's sword Galatine, we'd never have gotten through at all."
"Gawain has a special sword?" Sarah asked.
"Yes, given him by the Lady of the Lake."
"Made by Trebuchet?"
Terence nodded, a slow smile lighting his face. "You seem to know a great deal more now than you did when I last rode with you, Sarah. Yes, made by Trebuchet—a faery sword like yours."
"What happened when you got through the forest?" Charis asked.
"We came to the Underwater Bridge that Ariel told us about. It was easy enough to identify, just a bridge built in a great stone arch, with the top a few inches below the surface of the water. The river wasn't even very fast there. It looked simple. Of course it wasn't."
"That monster?"
"Yes. As soon as we started acr
oss, it came out of the river and attacked." Terence shook his head. "Gawain sent me back to the shore so I wouldn't get in his way, and he drew his sword and slashed right at the closest of the heads."
Charis shuddered. "And cut it off?"
"No, he missed. The sword didn't touch a thing. He kept on striking out and hitting nothing, and all the time he was being bumped to the side. The creature was trying to knock him off the bridge, you see, but Gawain wedged one of his feet into a crack between stones, and although he was bashed back and forth, he didn't go over. Finally, the creature must have gotten impatient, and he took a bite. That was how we figured it out. You see, I was watching Gawain all the time, and when the monster bit him I saw the wound appear—but I didn't see the mouth that gave the wound."
"What?" Charis and Sarah said, in unison.
"It was magic, of course. The monster's real heads were invisible and the heads that you could see weren't really there. That was why Gawain kept hitting nothing. So I called out to him to strike where the beast's heads were not."
Sarah tried to imagine fighting a battle where you ignored the enemy you could see and struck where you could not. "That must have been rather hard."
"Gawain said it was the hardest battle he ever fought, because he wasn't just fighting a monster, he was fighting his own instincts. But it worked: his first blow cut off a head. Strangest thing I ever saw. He struck into the empty air to his left, and I watched one of the monster's heads, off to the right, fly off into the river." Terence shook his head slowly. "By the end, it was a question of who would last the longest. With every head Gawain cut off, the monster got slower, but Gawain was weakening, too. At last, Gawain closed his eyes and began just swinging wildly and blindly—I'll never tell him this, but he looked exactly like Sir Griflet in a tournament—and that was how he got the sixth head. After that, the monster tried to get away. It crawled out on the opposite bank. I came out on the bridge and helped Gawain free his foot. Then we finished off the beast."
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Terence said bitterly, "But it was all useless. We killed the monster at the crossing, but neither of us can live in this Wounded Land. We can't even go back: the Underwater Bridge crumbled as soon as we were across. Worst of all, we can't do what we came here for. In three days, if you don't find Lancelot, the queen and Sir Kai will die."
The Princess, the Crone, and the Dung-Cart Knight Page 17
