The Squire's Quest

by Gerald Morris

  "On what?"

  "On the teeth and noses of some gentlemen that she found in the corridor."

  "Gentlemen who were sprinkling rose petals at her feet?"

  "No! Is that what they're up to?" Eileen asked, her control breaking down as she dissolved in laughter.

  "Are the footmen all right?" Terence asked.

  "They'll live. I pulled Sarah off them after a bit. After all, she didn't really want to hit them; she wants to hit Alexander."

  "No, I don't," came Sarah's muffled voice through the bedroom door. "Alexander I want to flay with a dull knife." A moment later she stormed into the room, her hands wrapped in fresh cloths. "What an ass! To think all this foofaraw would make me love him!"

  Mindful of his promise to Acoriondes, Terence said, "Then it doesn't?"

  Sarah stared at him. "Are you mad? Would a passel of fool minstrels make you love someone?"

  "I just wanted to be sure," Terence explained. "Maybe I can help get rid of them for you. Wait here."

  Twenty minutes later, having told Acoriondes how Sarah felt, Terence watched the first performers leave Camelot. Acoriondes was nothing if not efficient. Without being at all obvious, he had managed to speak privately to every minstrel, mummer, and musician, and within moments of his talking to them, they began packing up to leave. With the performers gone, the crowds dispersed, and an hour later Camelot was back to normal. Terence turned to go tell Sarah it was safe to leave her rooms again, but he was stopped by a quiet voice at his elbow.

  "I thank you again, Squire Terence." It was Acoriondes.

  "You re welcome."

  For a moment Acoriondes didn't speak. Then he said, "Squire Terence?"

  "Yes?"

  "I would not have you think that my master is a fool. He is not. He has trusted too much in his brother, who in turn has trusted too much in foolish stories, but Alexander is a good man, great of heart. He is the best master I have ever served, and he will be a great emperor when he is older."

  Terence nodded, then asked, "And why are you telling all this to a mere squire?"

  "I told you that I had learned much about you. While you were away this past week, I have heard many stories about you, and of one thing I am certain. You are not a mere squire."

  Terence grinned. "Be careful not to trust too much in foolish stories."

  With genuine amusement, Acoriondes returned Terence's smile, the solemn courtier's face seeming suddenly years younger.

  What with helping Acoriondes get rid of what the court was already beginning to call the Festival of St. Sarah, Terence had had no chance to watch Mordred, and at dinner that evening the young man was nowhere to be found. No one knew the goings-on at court better than Kai, so as soon as he was able, Terence caught the seneschal's eye and gestured for him to step aside with him. "Where's that fellow Mordred?" Terence hissed as soon as they were alone.

  Kai peered at him shrewdly. "You don't like him either, do you?"

  "Where is he?"

  "Gone," Kai replied bluntly. "On his first quest, you might say."

  Terence blinked. King Arthur sent his knights out on quests to fight injustice or drive away bandits, but there had been no reports of such problems for months. "A quest?"

  "It's what you might call a diplomatic quest," growled Kai. "About midmorning today, a messenger arrived, reporting that Count Anders has refused to pay his taxes again." Count Anders was a powerful nobleman from East Anglia who was a recurring annoyance to the king. It wasn't that he was actively rebellious. He had sworn an oath of fealty to the king, like every other vassal. But he was always the last of the king's nobles to perform his lawful duties. Just a few months before, King Arthur had had to send an army to collect his rents. Kai continued, "So nothing would do for Arthur but to send Mordred off to deal with him, to see if diplomacy would work better than a show of force."

  "He sent that boy alone on a mission like that?" Terence gasped.

  "Nay, Bedivere's with him," Kai admitted. "But Arthur made it clear that he wanted Mordred to talk to Anders first." Terence shook his head. It didn't seem like a job for a youth. Anders was a slippery, conniving fellow, not to be trusted. "I know," Kai muttered, lowering his voice. "But Arthur's never had a son before."

  They were interrupted by a commotion in the banquet hall behind them, and Terence and Kai returned to their places as Emperor Alexander's party entered the hall. As Terence took his spot behind Gawain's chair, Alexander was kneeling before a tight-lipped Sarah, apologizing brokenly to her. "It is that I am unable to speak my love for you, Lady Sarah. Even in my own tongue, I am not a man of well speeches, and in the English, I cannot say all that is in my heart. I wished the singers to speak my love for me. If it was not well done of me, then I ask your forgiveness. My hope was to praise you, not shame you. Forgive me?"

  Sarah glowered at him for a moment, then said, "Oh, get up, Alexander. Just don't do it again."

  The emperor sighed with relief, then smiled impishly. "I will obey you, my lady. From fear as much as from love. I do not wish to be treated as you treated my footmen."

  Even Sarah had to join in the ensuing laughter, and Terence reflected that as maladroit as Alexander could be, it was impossible not to like the emperor.

  Over the next two weeks, the emperor didn't make a spectacle of his love, but no one could doubt that he was pursuing Sarah as ardently as ever. In every way, he was attentive to her needs—or what he imagined to be her needs. When she went riding with Eileen, Alexander was there to help her mount her horse. When she walked to the town, one of the emperor's own footmen followed her (at a safe distance), ready to carry anything she purchased or to run errands for her. When she spoke in Alexander's presence, he immediately turned his attention from everyone else and listened to her. Sarah showed no sign of weakening, but as the days passed Alexander won nearly everyone else's heart. That Sarah still held out against so eligible and determined a suitor struck almost everyone as both foolish and cruel.

  "Why do you refuse Alexander, anyway?" Eileen asked one evening, as she and Sarah and Terence sat behind barred door.

  "Oh, don't you start, too," Sarah sighed. "I'm getting enough of that from Guinevere, who thinks it's all so romantic."

  "But why?" Eileen persisted. "You don't dislike him. Of that I'm sure."

  Sarah hesitated. "No," she admitted. "I don't. I might even one day learn to love him. But I don't yet."

  "So you like him and think you would probably learn to love him. That's a more promising beginning than many marriages start with," Eileen commented.

  "I know. But I don't want to settle for probably." She drew a breath. "Remember, as a child I saw everyone I loved murdered. It makes you careful, about loving people. This isn't easy for me."

  A gentle rap came from the chamber door. Sarah seemed to sag, but Eileen met Terence's eyes and jerked her head at the entrance. Terence drew the bolt and opened the door to reveal Alexander's younger brother, Cligés. "Please," Cligés said. "I speak for my brother."

  "Come in," Terence said.

  Cligés entered, his hat in his hand. "I ... I am sorry for disturbing," he stammered, kneeling before Sarah.

  "What do you want?" Sarah asked, but her voice was not unkind.

  "Alexandros asks please if you ... love another."

  "If I ... oh, I see," Sarah said.

  "If you love another," Cligés said, "Alexandros will—" Cligés consulted a scrap of paper on which several words were written in Greek letters. "—honor your love. He will say no more to you."

  Sarah hesitated, then nodded to herself. "It's an honest question. No, Cligés, you may tell your brother that I do not love another."

  Cligés's face broke into a dazzling smile. "Then he may hope?"

  Sarah gave him a measured gaze. "Tell Alexander that he must wait. But yes, he may hope."

  Cligés thanked her profusely, then hurried away with his message. Terence barred the door again.

  "Do you know what I need?" Sarah asked
plaintively. "I need to take a trip somewhere. Just to get away."

  "Where?" asked Eileen.

  "The antipodes, maybe. Africa, at least. What's farthest from here?"

  The next morning, Mordred and Bedivere returned from their diplomatic mission, with Count Anders riding between them. Arthur received his stubborn vassal in the throne room, where the count knelt before the king and laid a wooden chest at the foot of the throne. "My taxes, sire, along with my rents for the next quarter," he said.

  "Your rents, too?" asked Arthur, mildly surprised.

  "I have not been as true to my vows as I could have been, Your Highness. But your ambassador has persuaded me to amend my ways."

  Arthur looked at Mordred, standing humbly at the rear of the room, and a smile touched the king's lips. "Indeed? And what did Mordred say that accomplished what so many others have failed to do?"

  "It was not what he said, sire. It was that he listened."

  The king raised his eyebrows. "Listened to what?"

  Mordred stepped forward. "Please, Your Highness, if I may explain?" Arthur nodded. "Count Anders has been slow to pay his lawful dues because of his own worry. His lands lie on England's eastern shore, and he had heard rumors that pirates from across the sea were planning to attack. He needed every farthing to fortify the coasts. I simply reminded him that the defense of England was not his job but yours, and that by setting himself against you he was depriving himself of his greatest ally."

  Kai, standing behind Arthur, looked skeptical, but Arthur nodded. "Mordred is right. I should be glad to discuss your defenses and determine what is to be done."

  The count bowed again, and the general court was dismissed while Arthur and his council of war met with Count Anders. Terence was not a part of that council, but he heard the results when Gawain returned to their rooms later. Arthur had agreed to send a caravan of supplies, horses, and weapons to fortify Count Anders's coastal defenses, and Count Anders had renewed his oath of vassalage to the king. "It seems to have worked out pretty well," Gawain concluded, "in spite of all Kai could say."

  "Kai didn't like it?"

  "He says he's not keen on giving weapons to someone who just a few months ago looked to be starting a rebellion."

  "Well, that's a fair point, I'd think," Terence said.

  Gawain shrugged. "Maybe, but it was pretty clear that Kai's real reason was that he doesn't like Mordred. I must say, Mordred took it pretty calmly, too."

  "Mordred was there? In the war council?"

  Gawain nodded. "A little irregular, I know, but he'd begun the negotiations, after all."

  Terence nodded, but he couldn't help wondering if Arthur was granting Mordred so much trust only because he so desperately wanted him to be trustworthy. Somehow it didn't seem enough to believe something was so just because you wanted it to be so. But two days later even Terence was surprised at the extent of Arthur's trust in Mordred. That morning, the king announced that since England was at complete peace, it was time for him to make an overdue visit to the lands under his rule in northern France, in Brittany. He, the queen, the council, and most of his court would spend several months there, and in the king's absence England would be under the charge of Mordred and Sir Bedivere.

  The Battle of Windsor

  The party that set out for Brittany a week later was much larger than usual, and several of those who went with the king would have given much to stay behind. Among those were Kai, Sarah, and Terence.

  Brittany, on France's northwestern coast, had belonged to the kings of Britain for as long as anyone could remember. It had often been neglected by those kings, but King Arthur tried to rule all of his lands with equal care, even those that lay across the sea. He had appointed an honest Breton governor and made a point of visiting Brittany himself as often as possible. But those delegations had usually consisted of the king, Sir Bedivere, and an honor guard of a dozen or so knights. In his absence, Arthur had always left Kai in charge of Britain, so his change of plans this time surprised everyone. Not only was he leaving England in the hands of a youth who wasn't even a knight yet, but he specifically named Kai, Gawain, and Terence among those who would go to Brittany with him.

  Kai was livid and, in private, argued vehemently against leaving Mordred in charge, even with Bedivere at his side. "You know Bedivere, Arthur," Kai protested. "He's too trusting! Especially of young knights! He's soft!"

  "Why do you think I chose him?" was all the king would reply.

  For her part, Sarah had seen the king's journey to France as her chance to get away from Alexander and had begged his permission to go along. But the emperor had thwarted these plans in the simplest way: by announcing his decision to accompany the king to Brittany as well.

  As for Terence, he was more than ever convinced that he ought to be watching Mordred, but he said nothing to the king until the night before their departure. It was late evening, but the midsummer sun was still above the horizon when Terence happened to glimpse a movement on the north tower. Having for the moment lost track of Mordred, Terence climbed the tower stairs to see who was there. It was King Arthur, standing alone at the turret, examining the lush landscape before him.

  "My liege," Terence said. "Forgive my interruption."

  "It's all right, Terence," Arthur said. "Looking for Mordred?"

  Terence had to smile ruefully. "Yes, actually. Am I that obvious?"

  "Not to everyone, I imagine. But to me, yes. You see, I also am keeping an eye on him."

  Terence raised one eyebrow. "Are you suspicious of Mordred?"

  "I have no reason to be," the king replied evenly. "Have you?"

  Terence swallowed. "No," he said at last. "Nothing I could explain. Call it a feeling. I just sense that he's not to be trusted."

  "An opinion you share with Kai, it seems," Arthur said drily.

  Terence nodded, and for a long moment they looked together at the fields below, glowing red in the blush of the setting sun.

  "Terence," the king said, "have you wondered what will happen to England when I'm dead?" Terence nodded. Everyone had wondered. "And what do you foresee?" Arthur continued.

  Terence answered frankly. "War. I think that nobles who ve been lying low during the peace will try to grab what they can when there's no one on the throne."

  The king nodded. "That's what I see, too. And doesn't it seem to you that a true king ought to care as much for the next generation as he does for his own? But what can I do to prevent such a war? I should be preparing my successor for the evil times to come, but Guinevere and I have no children."

  "Couldn't you just choose one of your knights to succeed you?" Terence asked.

  "Who?" the king answered. "Who would you choose? It should be someone who's young enough to rule for more than a few years—so not Kai or Bedi-vere. But it should also be someone with the wisdom and experience to rule well. Can you think of one of the young knights you would choose as king?"

  Terence pondered this. He knew of several honorable and trustworthy young knights but could think of none who could step into Arthur's shoes. He shook his head. "But Mordred? You ve only known him a few weeks. Surely you haven't chosen him!"

  "I have chosen to test him," Arthur replied, "to see if he shows promise. And so far, I think you'll agree, he's exceeded expectations. At least he isn't a hothead who'll rush into war. And there's one more thing. Whoever follows me must be someone the country will accept as king, and Mordred is my son. One day, when I die if not before, I will make that known. I may have to hide that truth now, for Guinevere's sake, but I won't take it with me to the grave."

  Terence chose his words carefully. "But what if Mordred isn't a man of honor, O king?"

  "He still must know who his father is. I have no right to hide that from him forever. And then what? Once he's known to be my son, the die will be cast. Whoever I choose as my successor, some will declare Mordred king, simply because of his birth. If I don't choose Mordred, I'll be guaranteeing a civil war."

&nb
sp; None of this had occurred to Terence before, but he saw that the king was right. As soon as Mordred's birth was known to all, then most would accept his right to the throne without question. Then he frowned. "But, sire, his birth is not legitimate."

  "Neither is mine," Arthur replied calmly. "Remember? I'm the bastard son of King Uther Pendragon and Igraine of Cornwall."

  Terence nodded. The king's arguments were irrefutable. "But why give Mordred so much responsibility so quickly? Surely there is time to—"

  "One never knows how much time one has, Terence," Arthur replied calmly. "I may die sooner than expected." Terence looked sharply at the king's face. Arthur smiled. "Nay, don't look like that, old friend. I have no reason to think that my time is nearing. Call it a feeling."

  With this Terence had to be satisfied. "All the same, my liege, I beg you: let me stay at Camelot while you are gone."

  Arthur shook his head. "No, Terence. I'm not the only one who is aware that you re watching Mordred: Mordred knows. He probably thinks you're doing so at my command. But this time I want him to feel entirely trusted. Will you obey me in this, Terence?"

  Dropping to one knee, Terence bowed his head. "I would throw myself from this tower at your command, my king. Yes, I will obey."

  King Arthur shook his head. "Don't be an ass, Terence. If I ever command you to throw yourself from a tower, have me locked up, will you?"

  If it weren't for his gnawing anxiety about Mordred, Terence would have enjoyed the time in Brittany. At any rate, everyone else in the British party did. King Arthur and Kai spent every morning with the Breton governor, going over laws and accounts, but even they set business aside at noon. And, for the rest ofthe delegation, the visit was a time of uninterrupted pleasure. There were games and hawking parties and hunts and banquets and picnics and, of course, courtly dalliance. Gawain, noting how many courtiers and ladies had paired up during the trip, wondered to Terence if it might be something in the French air.