‘You took it upon yourself,’ Aurelian said, very quietly, and for one brief second I feared for my life. Behind me, too, I heard the court murmur and whisper, as if certain that the order for my execution was close at hand.
And then everything changed.
No herald announced their arrival. No silver trumpets sounded to accompany their way through the streets to our palace. No sign had been given or message conveyed to the Duke to say that they approached. No, it was as if they were not there – and then they were there.
A company of thirty knights, and their captain. Grave knights, and grim, heavily armoured, their tabards richly coloured with strange devices. Their faces were hidden behind the great masks of their helmets, the flesh of their hands was hidden behind great gloves. For the merest moment, I did not believe that anything alive inhabited those suits of armour – and then the knights moved, and marched through the hall.
They came forwards in complete silence other than the pounding of their boots, and that silence spread. All our quarrels ceased. Reaching Aurelian, they came to a halt, lining up, five rows of six, and their captain towards the front. He wore the same armour and the same devices as the others, but his helmet bore a red crest.
Beside me, I heard the Doctor muttering to himself. I saw him slip his hand into his pocket, and he drew forth a short, thin piece of metal, as long as a dagger, perhaps, but not sharpened to a blade. This he cupped to hide within his hand. I heard a low humming sound, like bees might make on a summer’s day, and the Doctor continued talking to himself. ‘Mechanical?’ he said. ‘Not mechanical? No, no, hard to tell…What are they?’
Their captain stepped forward. I saw the palace guards move to protect their Duke, but Aurelian halted them with one quick movement of his hand. ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘you bring a strange company into our midst. Who are you, sir?’
The captain of the company removed his helmet.
That face…
Never have I seen the like in all my long years upon this green world. Great beauty, mixed with great age, and, above all, an almost overwhelming weariness.
‘Good lord of this hall,’ he said, with courtesy. ‘And the brave knights gathered here. My name is Lancelot. I come here from a city named Ravenna.’
‘Sir,’ said Aurelian. ‘You and your company are welcome to my hall.’ He looked upon the knight in wonder. ‘But what brings you here? What is your mission amongst us?’
‘Sir,’ said Lancelot, ‘In the name of Arthur the King, the Duke of Britain, I seek the Holy Grail.’
I saw the Doctor’s face, and I heard his muttered oath, and I knew that he was utterly taken by surprise. And that – more than the fear of exposure, more than the presence of these grim and terrible knights – that above all was what made me afraid.
Chapter
5
In the days that followed, I found myself travelling with this captain, Lord Lancelot, and his company of knights on a journey that took us into the wild. When men travel together, and particularly in a time of war, they learn much about each other: they learn what makes others laugh and weep; they learn the farthest reaches of their courage; they see the very worst and the very best of each other. But I learned little of Lancelot and his men beyond what I saw then. They did not laugh. They did not weep. They sought the Grail, whatever that might be, and, when it came to that quest, their tenacity was boundless. Beyond that, however, there was nothing. They might have been empty suits of armour for all that they felt the sorrow of life, aye, and its joy.
For now, however, they were a mystery, even to the one amongst us who seemed to know something of them. ‘Who is this knight, Doctor?’ I whispered. ‘Do you know him?’
‘Know him?’ he hissed back. ‘How can I know him? Lancelot and the Grail are a story!’
‘They appear in no story that I know, Doctor,’ I said, with confidence, for although I was no scholar, I was as learned as a man can be in such a time, when the trials and perils of border war leave little time for study or reflection.
‘Not from here,’ he said. ‘They’re from Clara’s world – but the point is that they didn’t exist. Yes, parts of that story were true, but not Lancelot of the Lake and the Grail Quest. They were invented centuries later. In fact, the last time I met anyone claiming to be the Knights of King Arthur they turned out to be from another dimension.’
‘And Ravenna?’
‘A city. Quite a beautiful one too. A capital, at one point.’
‘On Clara’s world,’ I said, for I had not failed to notice this, and I had marked too that he had not claimed Clara’s world as his own.
He gave me a steady look. ‘That’s right,’ he said, offering no more.
We studied each other for a moment or two, and then I turned the matter aside, for there was enough to consider beyond what this might imply. ‘Invention or not these knights are assuredly here now,’ I said.
‘I can see that!’ the Doctor snapped. ‘I bet they’re conmen,’ he muttered. ‘Yes, that’ll be it. There are a lot of conmen out there, trying to pinch people’s Crown Jewels.’
I looked at Aurelian. A light seemed to be shining from him as he stood before Lancelot. ‘My lord Duke is much impressed.’
And indeed it was hard to think of a welcome as lavish as the one Aurelian gave to this company then. I wonder if perhaps this, in part, is what caused the Doctor’s dismay. Barely two days had passed since Aurelian had been greeting him with smiles and full honour. And now he was forgotten. Yet I could see why Aurelian’s affections had transferred. For while the Doctor was compelling – and indeed he remained so to me, as strong and fierce as metal – yet against these knights something of his allure was diminished. His austerity and directness were nothing beside their mystery and glamour, and these were qualities that appealed to Aurelian. For myself, I would always take the strength of steel above the glitter of gold.
‘Come now,’ said Aurelian to Lancelot. ‘Sit upon my chair. Tell me about your journeys, and this Grail which you seek.’
‘Go on,’ said the Doctor. ‘Tell him all about it. I dare you.’
Lancelot turned his head to look at the Doctor, barely registering his presence before turning away again to Aurelian. ‘It is a long story, and much of it is lost in the mists of time.’
Again, Aurelian gestured to his seat. ‘Sit, sir,’ he said. ‘I would hear all about it.’
And Lancelot sat, slowly, as if his old bones had forgotten how to be at rest, and he remained upright in the seat, as if he might depart at a moment’s notice, should his quest demand. Resting his gloved hands upon his knees, he opened his mouth to speak.
‘Oh,’ muttered the Doctor, ‘this should be worth hearing.’
And indeed we heard a great tale then, a tale of marvels, of the man who had been king and would be king once again; of that king’s battles against his invaders; of his fair court and his circle of knights, and their great quest. And there they were, this company, and they stood silent and helmeted throughout all this long tale.
‘And here we are,’ said Lancelot, at last. ‘Here we are. We seek the greatest treasure, lord. We seek the Holy Grail.’
Aurelian was looking at him with great wonder and love upon his face. ‘I have never heard these tales before. How could that be? What strange world fashioned you, wanderer? Where could you come from?’
‘Yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘I think I’d like to know that too.’
‘I have come,’ said Lancelot, ‘from a land beyond the black of night. I have come from a land more distant than all the stars that you can see in your heavens.’
Aurelian gave a deep sigh of loss and longing. ‘A land beyond the stars,’ he said. ‘They say our forefathers, at their high point, walked amongst the stars.’
Guena, sitting beside Lancelot, started. ‘They say many things about our forefathers, my lord. Only some are true. Many are fantasies – or desires.’
‘And much has been concealed,’ said Aurelian, sharply, befor
e turning back to Lancelot. ‘But this Grail,’ he said. ‘I have not heard enough about this. Tell me about it.’
‘An object of great beauty and power,’ Lancelot replied. ‘The vessel which contained the blood of the redeemer. A symbol of perfection and of life beyond death.’
‘Yes, yes…!’ Aurelian was rapt. ‘Such a symbol would be a great gift to the finder…’
The Doctor stepped forwards. ‘Except this is all made up, isn’t it?’ Even to me, who was his greatest ally in this court, his voice sounded harsh and unwelcome. ‘None of it’s true. Oh yes, there was a King Arthur,’ he said, ‘or someone close enough. King would be pushing it. He was a warlord, in a time of failure and collapse.’ He looked pointedly at Aurelian. ‘They called him a Duke, too. He was someone who took the job because there was no one else left to do it. But there wasn’t a Grail. There wasn’t a Lancelot. All that was made up. No, it’s worse than that. It was all made up by the French.’
‘Doctor,’ I said, softly.
He span round to look at me. ‘What?’
‘Look to the court,’ I said, for there was much anger and muttering at this speech. ‘This does not help your cause.’
‘Then it should,’ he said. ‘This is the help you need. All of this,’ he gestured round, taking in Lancelot and the company, ‘isn’t what it seems. There is something else going on, I’ll bet you every single jewel in this palace.’ He turned to Lancelot. ‘So what’s the con? You can’t really believe the Grail is here?’
‘This is where the quest has brought us,’ Lancelot replied, and I was struck at how uncaring he was at the Doctor’s assault upon him. It was not that he was being patient, or attempting to curry his favour. He simply did not care.
‘How?’ said the Doctor. ‘What’s made you believe that? Was there a story? A map? Did you talk to a Sphinx or an Oracle? Or did you pull the idea out of your own addled brains, because I am telling you – you will not find the Holy Grail here. You’ll not find it anywhere. Because it doesn’t exist.’
Aurelian stepped forwards. ‘Be silent, Doctor! Your part in the conspiracy against me is not yet clear.’ Turning to Lancelot, he said, ‘I believe you, sir. You are clearly a knight of great lineage and honour. And I am the Duke here. I command.’ Then he turned to face the hall, addressed his own knights, filling the space with his loud clear voice. ‘Hear me now, noble lords of Varuz. At the very moment of our defeat, we have been offered a second chance. This Grail is an object of great power. It could be our salvation. Therefore I ask you now, who amongst you loves his lord and his land enough to seek this Grail? Who will join this company on their quest?’
If I have given thus far the impression of weakness on Aurelian’s part, this is only because I have been speaking of his latter days. There was a reason we had chosen him for the Dukedom, however. At the height of his powers he had the gift of rallying people, of bringing them to him, of giving them heart.
Alas, those days were long gone for Aurelian. Now a dreadful silence met his call to action. All of us, his knights, I saw, were looking elsewhere, at anything or anyone but him.
‘What?’ he cried. ‘Is there nobody here who will meet this challenge?’
And it seemed that there was not. We were at odds with one another, unless something could be found to unite us…
—
The guards allowed Clara to detour briefly past her rooms to change from her gown into something more suitable for travelling, and to pack some items for the journey. Then she was hurried to the palace gates. The ambassador was already there, with the same grey-haired knight, who, with Lord Mikhail, had taken Clara and the Doctor to the palace on their first day. When Clara arrived, the knight addressed her and the ambassador in formal terms.
‘By the order of Aurelian, Duke of the Most Ancient, Serene, and Noble State of Varuz, you are required to leave the lands beneath his rule by sunrise, under penalty of death—’
‘All right, all right,’ said Clara, ‘we’ve got the idea. And banishing us is all very well, and I’ve every intention of doing what I’m told, but I’m a stranger to these parts. Which way do we go? And how do we get past Conrad’s men? Aren’t they guarding all the routes out?’
The knight took pity on her. ‘The road runs along the river, and will take you to the foothills of the mountains. When the river bends away from the road, follow its course. You will find the mountain path. This is the quickest way to the border. As for Conrad’s men…’ He shook his head. ‘There I cannot help you, and you must throw yourself upon the mercy of your travelling companion, should he travel the whole way with you. And to both of you, I would say – beware of bandits in the mountains. This land is not as lawful as it was.’
‘Bandits,’ said Clara. ‘Great. Any chance we could borrow one of those laser-swords? No,’ she said, when the man smiled and shook his head. ‘I didn’t think there was.’
And then it was time to go. The guards led them through the city gates, and watched them as they went on their way. The journey was smooth at first, the road so near the city being in relatively good repair, although as the morning went on, more cracks appeared in the great flat upper stones, revealing the gravel beneath. In places, the road was no better than a muddy path.
The ambassador proved not much of a conversationalist, which made the walk rather dreary. Still, Clara didn’t blame him; he must not be looking forward to returning home to report the complete failure of his mission. He seemed to want to delay their journey too: stopping all of a sudden to stray off the path to examine some old building as they passed – an abandoned cottage, or a tumbledown wall, or some other piece of broken stone that grabbed his attention.
As the day wore on, civilisation, such it was, fell completely away from them. The river ran on beside them, rushing back towards the city, and ahead the mountains began to loom large. At last they reached the place where the road and the river diverged. The road swung northwards, while the river carried on east into the mountains. On the southern bank, Clara could see the remains of another old road, heading south, but the bridge was in ruins, and there was no easy way to cross. The river was deep, and wide, and fast-flowing.
‘All right,’ Clara said. ‘What was the route you used to come in?’
‘Hmm?’ said the ambassador.
‘You got through to Varuz somehow. How did you get here?’
‘Well, you know…’ The ambassador gestured vaguely ahead. ‘Through the, um, through the those…’
‘The those?’
‘The, um, the mountains.’
Clara looked at the peaks rising up ahead. ‘There are quite a lot of mountains,’ she said, and sighed. ‘Look, I know you don’t want to give away state secrets, such as the sneaky route out of Varuz, but I’m going to have to come with you—’
‘Oh no!’ said the ambassador in horror. ‘No, I don’t think so! Oh no, that’s simply not possible at all!’
Clara tried to stay patient. ‘I don’t want to tell you your business, but we’ve got a major diplomatic incident on our hands. You’ve just been sent away from Aurelian’s court! I’m assuming Conrad isn’t going to take that lightly. It could be exactly the excuse he needs to invade.’
‘I don’t understand why that means you want to come with me!’ He looked around wildly. ‘Can’t you…I don’t know…find a quiet spot here? Yes, it really is lovely here, nice and remote, well away from everything. You could sit here until whatever trouble is coming has passed—’
‘I could,’ said Clara, ‘but I’m not going to. Don’t you understand that I’m on your side? Well,’ she corrected herself, ‘I’m not on anyone’s side, but I don’t want a war and I hope you don’t want to see one either.’
The ambassador nodded fervently.
‘There you are,’ said Clara. ‘The Duchess asked me to speak to you on her behalf, and through you to send a message to Conrad. So why don’t I speak to Conrad directly? If I can meet him, talk to him – I can tell him that the Duchess and o
thers want peace. He’ll see that even if the Duke has sent you away, there are many people in Varuz who want to talk and find a way out of this impasse.’
The ambassador was staring down at his hands. ‘Hmm, well, let me think about it.’
‘What is there to think about?’
He squirmed. ‘There are complications…’
‘What complications?’ Clara said. ‘Tell me about them. I’m a great listener and I’m full of bright ideas. I might be able to help you uncomplicate your complications.’
‘Oh, no, I couldn’t do that!’
‘Why not?’ said Clara.
The ambassador drew himself up grandly. ‘State business.’
Clara sighed. ‘Oh, all right,’ she said. ‘But I’m still coming with you. I can’t stay here, can I? I’ve been banished. If I hang around here, chances are someone will come after me with a laser-sword. You too.’
That was enough to get them moving again. They walked on upwards for a long time, both deep in thought, as the day declined and the darkness began to settle around them. When they reached a small stream splashing down from the heights, Clara suggested they stop and rest for the night. The ambassador readily agreed, so they found a spot beneath the trees, and began to make camp.
‘How far are we from the border?’ Clara asked.
‘Not far, I think. Still a good walk. Uphill, you know.’
Clara peered into the shadows, looking for the faintest glimmer of a laser-sword. ‘Well, I know they said sunrise to get off their land, but we’ve done our best and we’ve come a long way. Surely they won’t mind if we spend one last night here in Varuz. At least we’re heading in the right direction.’
Doctor Who: Royal Blood (Glamour Chronicles, Book 1) Page 6
