Comedic Arthurian Bundle: The Adventures of Queen Arthur

by John P. Logsdon

  “Sorry, Fifth and West?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Young man,” Guinevere said sweetly, “we're somewhat new to the area. Could you maybe point us toward this place?”

  This caused the guard to tilt his head suspiciously. “I thought you worked at the dinner theater.”

  “Well, yes,” Guinevere recovered, “but we've only recently begun that job.”

  “Follow me, then,” the man said as he turned on his heel and walked through the building.

  It was all Arthur could do to try and mentally catalog the wonders he was seeing in the place. Large glass windows and doors; little camera-things like the one that Merlin had brought with him on their last adventure were up in the corners of the ceilings; and, most interestingly, big bubbles that appeared to be holding water. There were people standing around those water tanks. They pointed at Arthur and the knights as they walked past, and they were all giggling. Arthur wasn’t sure what was so funny. If anything, the fact that they all had nooses hanging from their necks—the men anyway—was what they should be laughing at, even if Arthur couldn’t help but admit that those decorative neck ropes were somewhat fashionable.

  They walked outside a set of doors and onto a piece of hard ground that was made up of white squares. It felt more like the floors that Arthur was used to walking on inside of buildings.

  When Arthur looked up, he could barely breathe due to the wonders he was seeing. Buildings that dwarfed his beloved Camelot surrounded them. They were everywhere. Were it not for his ability to see the sky, he’d have thought that they’d just moved from one building to a much larger building.

  Foreign sounds filled the air as well. Hums, horns, clomping of feet, and people chattering as they walked through the area. It wasn’t vastly different from Camelot’s marketplace as far as the crowds went, but their choice of garb, the surrounding constructions, the lack of dirt, and the fact that there were no merchants that he could make out, made him wonder what precisely all of these people were doing. There seemed to be no purpose to their wanderings.

  The smells were also unfamiliar. In Merchant Square, he could smell breads and corn and meats and cheese. And horses. Lots of horses. The smell here was more like that of a blacksmith’s workshop.

  “Now,” the guard said while pointing, “you go up there about two blocks, turn left, and you'll see the hospital on the right.”

  “Thank you, fine sir,” said Guinevere, clearly trying to maintain her composure. She was doing a better job of it than Arthur.

  “Have a nice day, folks.”

  “Nice lad,” Arthur said as the guard walked back into the building. “Good to see that people in the future are as kind and cordial as they are in our time.”

  “Out of the way, you bunch of idiots,” said a gruff man who was wearing a long coat and hat. He was portly and pushy. Definitely a merchant.

  “Pardon me?” said Arthur haughtily.

  The guy stopped, looked Arthur over and mockingly said, “Pardon me.” Then he snorted. “You actors. Always thinking you're something special. Go to your stupid dinner house and get off the sidewalk, yeah?” Nobody replied, likely being in too much of a shock to do so. “Idiots,” the man said with a shake of his head as he walked away.

  Arty stepped forward. “Shouldn't we be after killin' him? A fella sullies me name like that in me land and he's strung up, he is.”

  “This isn't your land,” Merlin was quick to point out.

  “Nor is it mine,” Arthur agreed. “We're in the future, remember?”

  “Still,” said Gaheris, his voice carrying a chill, “the man should know his place. Shall I gut him, sire?”

  “You shall not,” Merlin answered for Arthur. “Keep your wits about you. All of you. You're here to help me in the event that help is needed. We don't know the ways of those who live in this age, but common sense will tell us that we are no longer a part of the ruling class. Therefore, we must use our brains.”

  Arthur blinked. “Are you implying that we don't use them in our own time?”

  “I am saying precisely that,” Merlin stated. “You're always jumping at each other and at every—”

  The sound of a roaring beast split the air. Everyone jolted as the boxy thing zoomed past. Arthur stood his ground. Lance-A-Lot, Gaheris, Bors, and Kay all moved to protect their king. Merlin, however, leaped into the air and landed in Gaheris’s arms. Galahad merely stood there shaking his head.

  “What in the Seven Hundred and Nineteen Hells was that?” said Arthur, fighting to maintain his resolve.

  “What the shet?” Arty swore, visibly trembling. “It's the devil’s magic, it is!” Then he glanced over at Arthur. “That’s a lot of hells.”

  “I imagine it to be one of those horseless carriages you spoke of,” said Gaheris as he looked down at Merlin. “Would you let go of me now, please?”

  “Right,” said Merlin sheepishly as he dropped out of the knight’s arms.

  “Horseless what?” Arty said.

  “You weren’t there for the pictures,” Guinevere said. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll explain it to you as we go on.”

  “Anyway,” Merlin said as Guinevere relayed some of the things she’d seen on Merlin’s computer, “that security fellow thought we were part of the dinner theater. Bors and Kay, you are both actors of a sort, yes?”

  “Of course we are,” Bors yelped. “We have written, directed, produced, and starred in countless plays.”

  “How could you not know this?” Kay lamented.

  “I did know it,” Merlin said with a snicker. “I just enjoy riling up egotistical pricks.”

  “Heh heh.” Gaheris was not one who put too much effort into laughing.

  “I didn't know you could laugh, Gaheris,” said Merlin.

  “There are a lot of things you don't know, wizard.”

  “Hmmm.” Merlin studied the big man for a moment. “Can you act, too?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you're about to learn how. You'll be joining Bors and Kay as they go to that dinner theater and get us some money.”

  “Heh heh.”

  “I wasn't joking.”

  “Oh.”

  Bors and Kay gave each other serious looks.

  “Hold on a moment here, Merlin,” Bors said. “We don't even know—”

  “Right there, across this expanse,” Merlin said, pointing up the street at a castle that was nestled between two larger buildings. “That’s the place. Go there and get a job.”

  “How do you know that's the right location?” asked Kay.

  “First off, it’s a castle, and not even a good one. Secondly, look at everyone milling around outside. Notice anything familiar about their choice of garb?”

  “So?”

  “So, Kay, unless there are a lot of time-travelers out and about today, that’s the place!”

  “I don't know about this,” Bors said wearily. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

  Merlin rolled his eyes and turned to Arthur. “I can only do so much here.”

  “Merlin is correct, my knights. You have special skills that we don't share.”

  “He doesn't,” said Bors, nodding at Gaheris, who was busily picking his nose.

  “Sir Gaheris,” Arthur chastised, “what have we said about picking our noses in public?”

  “Sorry.”

  “And to the third-knuckle even.”

  “Ye've got odd rules, King of England,” said Arty. “Ye'll all scratch yer arses in public without a flinch, but diggin' out a fresh nugget is a nay say, eh?”

  Arthur went to retaliate, but found himself caught up in trying to unravel what the king of Scotland had actually said.

  “Either way, Sir Bors, you've said that you wanted to share culture with the world. Now is your chance. And we need whatever coin you may garner in the process. We haven't a clue how long we'll be stuck in this time.”

  “You can count on us, sire,” said Kay. He put a hand on his fellow actor’s sho
ulder. “It could be fun, Borsy. Just imagine our ability to share with these actors of the day what true knights are like?”

  “Well,” Bors said, relaxing a bit, “there is truth to that, I'll say.”

  It got quiet for a few moments. Everyone was taking in the scene of the future.

  The horseless carriages kept zipping past, which made everyone in the troop shudder uncontrollably. Arthur had to admit that those would prove quite useful in traveling long distances. They were certainly moving more deftly than any steed he’d ever seen, and since they were enclosed it would protect the inhabitants from the elements.

  “I've got to piddle,” Gaheris announced.

  “Not in those pants I gave you, you don't,” Guinevere warned. “I'll tan your hide if you do.”

  Gaheris held up his hands. “All right, all right.” Then he moved over to one of the small trees that stuck up from the walkway.

  “No, no,” yelled Merlin. “Keep your pants on. I'm sure there is a public restroom of some sort that you can utilize to relieve yourself. Bors and Kay will help you find something.”

  “Off with you three before he makes a public nuisance of himself,” commanded Arthur.

  “Yes, sire,” Bors and Kay replied in unison as they pulled Gaheris along with them.

  Arthur watched as the three knights crossed the street. It was apparent that things were not the same here as in Camelot because the moment they stepped onto the road, horns sounded all around. There were screeches and people were hanging out of their cars yelling all manner of obscenities at Bors, Kay, and Gaheris.

  Gaheris had tried to challenge one of the larger cars—something Merlin had called a truck. The huge knight stood before it, slamming its front with his fists. In response, the thing bellowed a loud honk that caused Gaheris to jump backwards.

  “Hit my truck again,” yelled the man inside the truck, “and I’ll kick your ass.”

  Kicking someone in the rump seemed like an odd way to do battle, even though Merlin had mentioned it as a form of fighting back in Scotland, but the fellow seemed serious about his promise to do so.

  Bors and Kay struggled to pull Gaheris from the fight with the truck, nearly getting run over multiple times in the process.

  Finally they got to the other side and leaned against a wall to catch their collective breath.

  Arthur decided that he would do his best to avoid crossing into the path of any cars or trucks, if at all possible.

  “Well, that just leaves the six of us,” said Merlin, bringing Arthur’s attention back.

  Arthur had to take control of this situation. While this was Merlin’s quest, and while he was great at pointing out faults and issues, he wasn’t the best when it came to management. Unless, of course, one considered calling people names and constantly berating them as solid managerial skills.

  “I would say that you should go to that hospital with your…”—Arthur frowned at Galahad—“apprentice, so you can learn what you can of your Ms. Allison Smith.”

  “Just call her Allison, Arthur,” Merlin said, displaying his management style.

  “Gwen, Arty, Lance, and I shall seek additional means of income down that road there.”

  “We will?” said Arty, but must have caught the look in Arthur’s eye. “Ah, yeah, okay.”

  THE INTERVIEW

  Wilhelm Morganstern pranced around the room in front of the three knights. Gaheris was not used to this type of behavior. He assumed it had something to do with the man being an actor, but Gaheris had no recollection of Bors or Kay acting in such a manner. Another strangeness was the frilly pink shirt that the man wore under his neatly pressed jacket. The high-leather boots would have been somewhat normal, were it not for the roses engraved on them.

  Gaheris wanted to ask questions, but he held himself in check, thinking that he would one day have the opportunity to discuss such things with King Arthur.

  “I think this is the first time that I’ve ever interviewed three people at once,” Wilhelm said in a soprano pitch that was impressively operatic.

  “Is that so?” asked Bors.

  “And I know it’s the first time interviewees were wearing their own costumes.”

  “These ain’t costumes,” Gaheris said, feeling confused.

  “What Sir...” Kay started and then coughed. “Sorry. I mean what Mr. Gaheris is trying to say is that we take our craft seriously.”

  “Some of the most authentic pieces I’ve ever seen,” Wilhelm said as he studied Kay’s sleeve. “Well, except for the trousers on Mr. Gilfarris there,” he added with a flick of his wrist.

  “It’s Gaheris.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Anyway, so you’ve impressed me with an authentic look.” He stepped back away and rubbed his chin while pursing his lips. “Then again, who’s to say that you didn’t just pick these up at a Renaissance fair someplace?”

  “I am,” Gaheris answered.

  “What I really need to know is if you can act or not.”

  “Absolutely,” Bors said almost reverently.

  “Most definitely,” agreed Kay.

  “No,” stated Gaheris.

  “Ha ha ha,” Bors said, glancing sideways at Gaheris. “He’s our comic relief.”

  “Indeed, he is,” Kay said, joining the merriment. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Gaheris?”

  “No.”

  “Ha! He does it again.”

  “Idiots.”

  “Right,” said Wilhelm. “Well, let’s get on out in the sand pit and see what you boys have got.”

  “Sorry,” Kay said as Wilhelm headed for the door, “but did you say sand pit?”

  “Of course. Follow me.”

  Gaheris had been on many fields of battle, and he had also been a party to tournaments where spectators lined seats in wooden bleachers, but he’d never seen a place quite like this. It was indoors, which was a novel idea that would have been most welcome during tournaments that were held when it was raining. Gaheris was not fond of getting wet.

  He still wasn’t certain what it was they were doing here anyway. Acting was all Bors and Kay said, but Gaheris was unfamiliar with such things. Was he to protect them as they did their acting? Was he to act along with them? He hoped it wasn’t the second option because he had no intention of skipping around like Wilhelm.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got,” Wilhelm said after spinning around and crossing his arms in dramatic fashion. “The scene is that the Dark Knight is threatening to take over the castle.”

  Gaheris felt his mind race. “You mean Batman?”

  “Who?” said Bors.

  “What?” said Kay.

  “Batman is a fellow that Galahad spoke of a couple of months ago,” Gaheris explained. “He called him the Dark Knight, but as I recall he is one of the good guys.”

  “Right,” said Wilhelm sourly. “Joking again, I see. The Dark Knight I’m speaking of is a knight who has turned to evil. It’s not Batman. Technically, we call ours the Evil Knight, but I just prefer to use the term Dark Knight.”

  “He means it’s a bad knight, Mr. Gaheris,” explained Bors.

  “I have a feeling he’s right about that,” Gaheris said in agreement.

  “No, not that the night is… never mind.”

  “Anyway,” interrupted Wilhelm, “any questions?”

  “What is my motivation?” Bors said studiously.

  Kay’s hand went up a moment later. “Is there a script?”

  “Where is a sword that I can use to stab this Evil Knight bastard in his nethers?” Gaheris asked, feeling that his was the only sensible question.

  Wilhelm erupted in laughter, including a snort or two. “You are humorous, Mr. Gayharryass.”

  “It’s Gaheris.”

  “Mr. Bors,” Wilhelm said without acknowledging Gaheris’s correction, “your motivation is to protect your king.”

  “Ah yes,” Bors said, nodding. “Of course.”

  “Mr. Kay, there is no formal script. We simply have cues that we use.
The rest is improvisation.”

  “We thrive on improvisation,” said Kay with a grin.

  “Swords, Mr. Gayhyena…”

  “Not even close,” Gaheris mumbled.

  “…will be handed out before the show if we feel your particular character requires one.”

  “Can’t kill Batman without a sword, or a gun I suppose, though I still don’t fully understand what a gun is.” Gaheris fished around in his mind for a moment before shrugging. “Sir Galahad has funny ideas sometimes.”

  “Mr. Bors,” Wilhelm directed, “you stand over there. Mr. Kay, that’s your position. Mr. Gaheris, you’ll come walking up behind them and overhear their conversation.”

  “Why?”

  “And action...” Wilhelm said and then halted. “Wait, what?”

  “I can hear them right where I am,” stated Gaheris. “Why would I walk up behind them?”

  “Because that’s the scene.”

  “Besides,” continued Gaheris, “it’s not honorable to eavesdrop on fellow knights as they’re—”

  Bors stepped over and grabbed Gaheris by the arm. “May I have a moment with Mr. Gaheris, Mr. Morganstern?”

  “I think you should.”

  Bors pushed Gaheris into the shadows. This concerned Gaheris at first, but not as much as it would have had Wilhelm done the same.

  “Gaheris,” Bors said seriously, “you need to focus here. We’re trying to get this job so we can bring money to King Arthur, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you have to play along. Just do what Mr. Morganstern says.”

  “But I don’t understand it,” complained Gaheris.

  “That will make you appear more authentic.”

  “Right.”

  They returned to Wilhelm and Kay. Gaheris didn’t feel much better, but he was a knight and he got that knights didn’t always comprehend the full desires of their king. This was especially true after seeing King Arthur wearing ladies clothing.

  “Okay, Mr. Morganstern,” announced Bors, “I believe we are prepared.”

  At that moment a man walked out of a side door and across the sand. He took a straight route that didn’t cross paths with the knights, but Gaheris was able to make out his pitch-black outfit with its reflective metal armor.