by Billy Wong
Mildy smiled. "It'll be fun, I'm sure. Yeah, we'll go. But I want bigger things!"
#
The golden-armored knight drove his lance like a thunderbolt into his opponent's breastplate, sending him flying from his saddle to land head over heels in the dirt. The fallen warrior did not move, and two attendants ran onto the field to carry him out of sight.
"That's a fierce one, isn't he? You ever seen him before?"
Mildy shook her head at Ares' question. "I don't think so, but he certainly is good." The knight had unseated every opponent he'd faced in one pass, and barely been moved by the efforts of any foe thus far.
A few matches later, the golden one took his place opposite the huge knight Sir Nerdreint, and Mildy smiled. "This should be good. He won't fell the Bull of Browide in one pass."
One pass later, Sir Nerdrient the Bull crashed heavily to the ground. He stumbled off the field looking stunned and groggy, and Ares said, "Milady, this beast is going to kill you."
"I'm not scared. He hasn't fought a first-rate opponent yet."
Eventually, the time came for Mildy to take the field in the finals, having defeated every opponent soundly thus far, and the chorus of jeers which assailed her brought a frown to her face. After all she'd done for the cause of good... She gripped her lance tightly as the man in golden armor saluted her. "May the best man win!"
"May the best knight win," she corrected him, and they clashed. Mildy shook her arm as she passed him, her opponent's lance having shattered jarringly against her shield. She turned, remembering she had scored an equally solid hit to his shield, but saw that he sat perfectly steady upon his horse.
Still, she hid her own pain well, and knew that to him she must have looked similarly unscathed. They met again, and this time his lance glanced off her helm, making her lean back dangerously in her seat while her weapon only snapped against his shield. She shook her dazed, throbbing head, only to realize her neck too was tight and sore. Damn, he was strong!
The horses pounded towards one another for the third time, and Mildy angled her lance away from the other knight's gut and up at his face just as they were about to collide. But the knight ducked his head, and her lance barely grazed his helm while his plowed into her ribs. She was getting so bruised.
"How are you, Milady?" Ares asked when she arrived at the end of the field.
"Sore. He's nearly as strong as Lamorak!"
"He's skilled, too. You haven't been blocking his hits too well."
She sighed. "I've been busy trying to hit him. Well, I've got seven more passes to get him off."
"He's got seven more too."
"I'm not coming off."
The thunder of their meeting washed over the field six times over, and they faced each other once more. Mildy panted for breath in her saddle, blinking drops of sweat out of her eyes while she tried to focus on her opponent's confident figure. She'd gotten the worst of the whole match, and if she didn't unseat the man now she had absolutely no chance of being judged the winner. All but ignoring her own defense, she concentrated solely on bypassing her foe's guard, and allowed his lance to slam full tilt against her shoulder while she drove her own into his upper chest. He leaned back, back... and righted himself, shaking off her blow as he rode triumphantly past her.
"And the winner—Galahad!"
Ares ran to Mildy's side. "Wow. He got you."
"Yeah, but maybe if I had one more pass..." She smiled. "He is good!"
"Wonder where he's from?"
Just then, Galahad walked over and offered his hand. "Good fight. You sure are resilient, Lady Mildred."
"Thanks. You're an impressive fighter."
"You too. You all right after all that?"
"Sure, I'm fine." Galahad's amiable reaction to her rather surprised her. It was not the one most knights gave, not even Lance when she'd first met him. The only one who'd ever given her immediate respect before was Lamorak, and him just for her ability to fight...
"Are you new around here?" she asked.
Galahad removed his helmet, revealing a fine-featured young man with smooth, shoulder-long hair the color of honey and deep green eyes. Younger than her, she realized, at most twenty though probably a couple years less than that. He was beautiful. A warm energy seemed to pass between their eyes, and her heart fluttered in her bosom.
"Yes," he said.
"Where from?"
"Up north. Wales, to be precise."
"Well met, Galahad. So what brings you down here? Are you on quest?"
Ares tugged on one of Mildy's armor straps out of Galahad's view, but she ignored him. The beautiful knight answered, "Yes, actually. I'm here to find the Holy Grail." Mildy could not hide the flash of alarm in her eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I, um, I..."
Ares came to her rescue. "We were looking for the Grail, too. But though we searched around here with all our wits and heart, we could find not even the slightest clue as to its whereabouts. So we gave up, even though Milady never does."
Galahad took a deep breath. "I've long known it would be hard, and for as strong a knight as you to fail in this task is discouraging. But I won't give up, no matter what hardships I find! The failings of the past can only teach us to do better in the future, can they not?"
"Y-yes, you're right," Mildy said, not having fully regained her composure.
"Would you like to join me in taking the search up again? I would be happy to have a formidable ally like you at my side."
Mildy glanced at Ares and found him looking as dumbfounded as she felt. But they had the Grail! If she accepted Galahad's offer, she would just be embarking on a useless endeavor, and if she turned it down, he would still be wasting his time needlessly. And she longed to travel with him.
She wanted to know him better, to seize the opportunity for new friendship she saw before her. And more than friendship, she admitted easily to herself. Love. That was what she really wanted. He was, after all, strong, brave, beautiful, and accepting of who she was; seemingly everything she could want in a man. She tried to dissuade him from his futile quest.
"I really don't think the Grail's anywhere near here. But I'm sure there's other things to be done for good."
"I want to find the Grail. It's been my dream since I was a small boy to seek it out, and now that I'm a man, I will."
Again Mildy looked helplessly at Ares. She knew no answer that would please him, or herself for that matter, but said, "Okay, we'll come with you."
Ares stared at her as Galahad replied, "I'll be glad to have you. Meet up after the ceremonies?"
"You bet!"
Galahad walked away. "What are we doing?" Ares demanded. "There's no Grail out there to be found!"
"So he'll fail to find it. It won't be any different from hundreds of other knights who've tried, and I'm sure he'll be able to help some needy people along the way."
Her squire frowned. "Yeah, but we're going with him, and we know it's a waste of time."
"But it'll be fun."
"Not for me."
"Oh, come on. Look at it as a way to get to know a new friend. Good things might come of it."
Ares gave her a flustered look. "Remember how you said our trip to Draunel would be fun, too?"
"It wasn't my fault that the bridge broke, or there was a witch terrorizing the road, or Draunel had been taken over by brigands. And we did prevail."
"I hate unpleasant surprises."
Everybody did, but there was no need to hide from them. "Then we'll pray for good luck and trust in God to see us through. It's not like we couldn't run into misfortune without Galahad, either. Besides, the trials we overcome make us stronger, remember?"
"I'd like to be stronger, but I'd rather not suffer more than I have to to get there."
Galahad rejoined them after receiving his trophy. "You have any ideas about where to start looking?" he asked, eyes bright and eager. "You did search for it before."
Feeling nervous both for her lying and the attrac
tive knight's scrutiny, Mildy said, "Not really. I failed, remember."
He smiled. "I'm sure you'll be able to help me avoid doing the same."
Mildy began to consider somehow fulfilling Galahad's quest, allowing him to "find" the chalice now in her possession. It was stupid, she knew, and he would surely reveal it to the greedy world. But she asked anyway, "What will you do, when you find the Grail?"
He gave her the answer she didn't want but expected. "I plan to deliver it to King Arthur's court, and hope to receive a seat at the Round Table in return. I've always dreamed of sitting at Arthur's side."
She knew now she wouldn't be able to give him what he wanted, but his enthusiasm nonetheless touched her. It spoke to her not of naivete as she might have seen in another young knight, but only an inspiring optimism. Though she felt a little wretched for her dishonesty, she could not bring herself to back out now. "Whatever happens happens, I suppose."
#
Mildy tried her best to chat it up with Galahad like nothing more than casual friends, but felt unusually nervous and fearful of any misstep in her words. He noticed this, and teased while they walked off the field, "You're not as confident as I expected. You seem just as demure as a proper maiden should be."
"W-well, I try." She couldn't believe she actually stuttered.
"You're really good."
Overcompensating for her last slip, Mildy said too quickly, "Thank you," and only then realized he hadn't finished speaking.
He laughed as her face turned beet red. "At fighting, I meant. How did you learn, anyway? It must have been a rare knight who was willing to take a girl under his wing."
"An old fool who didn't really even teach anything about fighting, and just put his students through exercises more likely to break you than make you strong. They did work for me—all my actual skill, though, I had to learn by copying and experimenting myself. In the beginning, I was just the worst fighter. Couldn't even hold my sword right. But after enough beatings, I began to learn, and now I'd say I'm pretty decent."
"Pretty decent indeed. I'd like to spar with you sometime."
"Didn't you just fight me in the tourney?"
"On foot. I heard you were at your best on foot."
He knew that much about her already? She shouldn't have been surprised; being one of the best warriors in Britannia was a fair claim to fame. But that probably meant he could tell her bearing wasn't what it usually was, and thus might think her to be faking for him—only she wasn't faking! She really was just this nervous around him.
"S-sure, let's get to it."
Always ready to fight, they drew their weapons and went at it then and there. For little more than a minute they battled with their favorite weapons, Mildy's flail against Galahad's traditional knightly longsword. Their intense though friendly duel ended when she disarmed him and tapped him about the helm with her flail, but she hadn't won because she was particularly more skilled. He knew it too.
"Well played. I'm not used to fighting a weapon like yours, especially in the hands of a master."
"You ought to learn," she replied, with more confidence than she had before the fight. "I'm not the only flail-wielder in the world."
"I agree with that, though I don't think left-handed flail masters are so common. Let's keep practicing together."
She smiled. "And while we're at it, you can teach me something about how to use my shield. I mean, I thought I was good, but you gave me a whipping!"
"Not really. You almost beat me."
"But I didn't. And I hate losing!"
He laughed, and they began to spar again. And now, Mildy really started to enjoy herself.
Chapter 6
For two weeks they traveled with Galahad in his fruitless pursuit, and over that time Ares grew more and more unhappy. He talked less than before, and no longer smiled. "What's wrong?" Mildy asked one night as Galahad slept under the starlit sky.
He hesitated, seeming reluctant to displease her. At last he voiced his disapproval. "How much longer are we going to hide the truth from him? I think this is wrong."
"But we're doing no harm, and it hasn't been completely useless. We've rid the kingdom of one charlatan, at the least."
Though they obviously hadn't come any closer to finding the Holy Grail, their search had let them bring to justice a traveling healer supposedly capable of miracle cures. In truth he'd been nothing but a greedy herbalist who made his livelihood by alleviating the pains of the dying, then claiming they were cured and reaping the charity of their grateful relatives. Now, revealed for the fraud he was, he was working in a prison mine where he belonged.
"Yeah, but the whole basis of our adventure is a fraud."
"I know. I just don't want to give him up yet."
"Give him up? What do you think he is to you?"
Confused, Mildy blinked. "Huh? The man I love, what else?"
Ares' voice grew cautiously soft. "I don't know if this is love. Maybe it could be, but for now it seems more like a childish fancy on your part."
Mildy didn't know if she agreed with that. It felt like love to her—her main worry was whether or not Galahad reciprocated. "Don't you believe in love at first sight?"
"I believe in infatuation at first sight, but I don't know about love. I think you have to know someone to really love them."
"I know him now."
"Still..."
"So, do you think he likes me too?" Mildy asked for the umpteenth time. She and Galahad got along quite well, but she couldn't quite tell if he was interested in a romantic sense. He treated her just like she would have expected him to treat a man, and though Mildy would normally appreciate it, she wished now that he would give some sign of how he felt about her as a woman. Of course she wasn't going to ask him; that would give away her feelings towards him, and she was deeply afraid of being rejected. She'd tried to keep her attraction a secret, though she wasn't sure how well she'd done there.
At the lack of anger in her voice, Ares seemed to relax. "I don't know. He respects you as a warrior, for sure. But I'm not so sure he even looks at you as a woman."
Mildy frowned. "He has to. One thing most men agree on, is that I'm not a bad looking girl." She didn't feel nearly as confident as she wanted, even if she was complimenting herself. What if he didn't think so?
"Looking better than ever without the scars," Ares quipped. "Maybe you could let him know how you feel, and see how he responds. It doesn't have to be overt. Probably better if you're subtle, actually."
"But I'm scared. What if he thinks I'm beneath him? He must be from a good family"—though surprisingly, he always avoided that subject—"and I'm... one of two things, depending on how much I tell. Either a crazy impostor, or a child of incest."
Ares put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Forget that Pendragon business. Like you said, you don't even want Arthur as your father anymore, right? As far as Galahad's concerned, you can just be Baroness Mildred of Lurbger. You do have a noble title, at least."
"True, though I'm sure he'd want to know more about my heritage if we got together. But Ares... I don't know how to do subtle."
"Don't worry. It's traditional for the man to reveal himself first anyway. He'll come around, if he likes you."
"I know, I just can't stand the excitement of waiting."
Ares didn't reply, but his eyes showed that he understood. "Maybe if a friend could tell him for me," Mildy said.
"What, like me?"
"You, a squire? No! Maybe Lance could if he was around, though it'd buck tradition." For a woman, it was supposed to be a female friend.
"You spit in the face of tradition."
Mildy chuckled. "Only sometimes. I'm not always brave enough to."
"You know, I'm fairly sure he already knows you like him."
"How's that?"
"You've improved a lot since you first met, but even now, you just can't seem to hide the way you stare at him sometimes."
Mildy looked down, knowing the truth of his
words. She picked at her nails for a bit before Ares added, "I have an idea."
She waited. "Well?"
"If you say you have to leave, that you have somewhere to go, maybe you could kind of trick him into revealing his attraction so as not to lose you."
"And you said I'm being immoral."
"You're doing that anyway. I might as well make things easier for both of you."
Mildy considered it. "No, I'd rather not. Better to stick around and give him more of a chance to warm up to me. I don't want to risk pushing him away."
"But this quest is pointless and wasteful."
Hearing the frustration in his voice, she began to feel sorry. "You're really that upset about what we've been doing these last weeks?"
"Not really what's happened already," he admitted. "But this has to end. Knights have wasted years of their lives hunting for the Grail. You don't want to do that to Galahad, or ourselves, do you?"
"No, I suppose not." Even though she wasn't here to find the Grail, but she knew what he meant. If Galahad felt no attraction to her, and she continued waiting on him to reveal such nonexistent feelings, how much time might she waste? "Fine, Ares. I'll inform him that I'm leaving tomorrow morning, and we'll see an end to this one way or another."
#
"I have to leave," Mildy told Galahad at breakfast. "I heard something was up back home, and I need to check."
"So soon? We haven't been searching for long."
"I think you should give up looking for the Grail. I doubt you're going to find it anytime soon."
He stared at her, and she felt a building panic at the likelihood she'd angered him. "Are you saying you don't believe in me?"
"No, not at all!" Scrambling to elaborate, she blurted out, "It might not even exist."
His eyes narrowed, and his mouth formed a tight line. Now she'd done it. Stupid woman! "You doubt the power of our Lord?" Galahad growled.
"I didn't mean that. I'm just saying, it might not be anywhere man can reach. Maybe the angels took it to heaven!"
"It's supposed to be here on earth."
"But it could be, uh, lost, right?"
He must have seen the distress in her eyes, for his voice softened. "Don't worry, Mildy. I'm not angry at you—well, I was, but I know you mean well. You don't want me to be disappointed when I can't find the Grail, right?"