One Perfect Knight

by Judith O'Brien

  With both hands, she steadied the sword. And the song of the sword became louder, ever louder. She was going to try to speak, but she could not be heard over Excalibur.

  Lancelot finally had Malvern in a headlock, his teeth clenched in the effort, and he looked up at Julie.

  Malvern deserved punishment. Not only for what he had done here but for everything else, for a lifetime of treachery.

  And gently, Julie let one of her hands leave Excalibur, and it floated to the song of the sword, upward, reaching to Lancelot.

  Now he had a choice. To punish Malvern or to take the hand that Julie now offered…

  Malvern crumpled to the floor when Lancelot dropped him.

  And slowly, Lancelot walked toward the light, the radiant halo of love, and their hands touched.

  In an instant, there was a brilliant, blinding flash…

  And then they were gone.

  For long moments, the room remained silent, and then they applauded and cheered, the most joyous sound imaginable, a sense of awe filling every being present.

  Malvern tried to run, but a security guard stopped him and led him roughly away.

  Everyone exchanged glances, uncertain what had happened. They all knew they had just seen the biggest show of all, and no matter what the papers would write, no matter what they themselves would say the next day to explain what had happened… for the moment, it was pure magic.

  And they had all been a part of it.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "Help me," he murmured.

  Julie smiled. "Haven't I done enough?"

  Lancelot took her hand and kissed it gently. "As a matter of fact, you have not." He gave her a pointed look with his cornflower-blue eyes.

  She just stared at him for a moment, wondering if she would ever lose the thrill of simply being this close, of having him speak to her, of his touch on her hand. And she knew it would never pass, this wondrous feeling. Never.

  "So," she said. "Just what is it you wish of your former squire?"

  "Another kiss," he demanded. "As the groom, I claim my rights."

  "Can we wait? We are, after all, in the middle of the wedding banquet."

  The Great Hall had never been so spectacularly bedecked, with floral garlands arching gracefully over every door and window and tables filled with cakes of every shape, form, and size.

  Lancelot shrugged and looked at the hundreds of people gathered before them in the hall, every man, woman, and child of Camelot. To their left sat King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, who were in deep discussion with Merlin. Occasionally, Arthur would scan his subjects, his gaze finally resting on Lancelot and Julia, and his eyes would soften. Then he would return to the conversation with Merlin.

  "What do you suppose they're talking about?" Julia asked, leaning close to her Lancelot, brushing the glossy black hair away from his forehead.

  "Perhaps they're talking about old times." Lancelot smiled. "And that unpredictable fifteen percent."

  They laughed, savoring the simple, extraordinary chance to be with each other. Their laughter faded, and he clasped her hand.

  Julie sighed, not wanting to look away from his face. "I can't believe we're really back home."

  He glanced down, his dark eyebrows slightly drawn. "I need to ask you something."

  "Yes?" Leaning closer, she snaked her hand up his arm. Then his eyes met hers.

  "You left everything you knew. Everything. Your career was splendid, you had a good life there, Julia. I need to know. .: "

  "Go on," she whispered.

  "Do you regret anything? Is there something you will miss in your life?"

  "Lancelot," she breathed. "Don't you know? You are my life. You always have been. I just haven't always known it. This is my home, where I belong."

  He pulled her loser, his strength overpowering, his need for her overwhelming.

  "Julia," he rasped, and she closed her eyes, hoping the moment would never end.

  Then he slid her onto his lap, his massive arms slipping about her in a tender caress. "It won't, my love. I promise. This time, it will last forever."

  It did.

  * * *

  Epilogue

  Peg Reilly had been dying to enter the quirky little store with the strange name, Cauldrons & Skulls. The only thing that prevented her thus far had been her professional reputation and an intense aversion to quirky little stores in general.

  But this time, she had a mission. In less than two weeks, her nephew would be ten years old. In addition, treating Nathan and his friends to an afternoon at Knight Times, that medieval-themed restaurant, she needed the perfect gift for a knight-obsessed fifth grader. So she entered the store with a purpose, the jingling bells over the threshold announcing her arrival.

  A pleasant-looking man was behind the counter. "Hello." He smiled. "May I help you?"

  He was a surprisingly pleasant-looking man, she revised.

  "Hello. I'm looking for something for my nephew. He'll be ten, and ..:" She sniffed once. "Do I smell vinegar?"

  The man put one hand on a hip. "I don't believe this! Yes, in fact, you do. This used to be my grandfather's pickle store. You have some nose on you, lady."

  For some reason, the comment pleased her, and she felt an unfamiliar blush creep up her face. "Well, um… my nephew."

  "Let's see. Is he at all interested in the Camelot legend?"

  "I'm not sure," she admitted. "He's just now emerging from a Power Rangers phase."

  "That's encouraging," he said, and they both smiled. "Over here, I have a rare comic book, hardcover. It's about sixty years old, a classic."

  The book was beautifully bound. "Myrddin? What an unusual name."

  "Yeah, it is. Actually, it's Merlin in Welsh."

  "Really?"

  He nodded "See, it's all here. Camelot, Merlin, Arthur. Then here comes Guinevere, and on this next page…

  "Lady Julia! Oh, she was always my favorite."

  "Oh, yeah? I was always a Lancelot man myself."

  "They're the best! When she disguises herself as his squire ..:"

  They both said the name at the same time. "George!"

  "And then with the evil Malvern," she continued, unable to repress a shudder.

  "That's great. And wait until you see the job Myrddin did on Malvern. Pure evil."

  "Oh, and Lancelot! He's wonderful," she sighed. "Wow. They are so realistic. Look at Lancelot's eyes. And Julia's hair. They just look so honest and real."

  "Hey. Um, you should have some time to look this book over. It's not cheap." He cleared his throat. "How about if I take you for a cup of coffee? My treat. And you can really look it over. Decide if…" His face reddened. "You can decide if it's what you want."

  Peg was still smiling at the illustrations when she looked up. "I… well, yes, I believe this is exactly what I want. But coffee… sure. Yes."

  He grinned. "Great! Just a second." He went to a beaded curtain. "Hey, Mel? I'm going out for coffee. Be right back."

  Then he offered his arm. "My name is Sam."

  And she accepted it. "I'm Peg."

  The bells on the door tinkled as they left.