Arthur was surprised by this revelation. “Truly?”
“Didn’t know you were familiar with the new actors, though,” she said, looking up. “Where did you say you were from again?”
“Camel—” began Arthur.
“Toe,” finished Merlin, spouting the first word that came to mind.
“What?”
“We’re from, uh, Cameltoe,” Merlin said after a moment, knowing that it sounded wrong.
“Never heard of it. Well, I mean I’ve heard it used as a boorish reference, but not as a place where people lived.”
She looked to be volleying up another round of questions when a booming voice sounded all around them.
My lords and ladies, I invite you to a night of wonder. A night full of jousting, skill competitions, and battles not seen since the days of King Arthur!
The crowd cheered.
“We didn’t battle all that much,” said Arthur to Galahad, “and what is jousting?”
There will be kings, queens, knights, and villains.
The crowd cheered again.
“Definitely had all of those.”
“Arthur,” said Merlin, giving him a look, “quiet, please.”
“Excuse me?”
Guinevere patted his arm. “Mrs. Levstall is trying to think, dear.”
“I don’t see how... Oh, right. Sorry.”
While cheering and applause is fully expected, and appreciated, we do ask that everyone refrain from banging their mugs and silverware. This noise scares the horses and may cause them to rear and drop the rider.
“Now that’s a battle tactic I hadn’t considered,” said Galahad.
“What do you mean?”
“Just that in addition to carrying swords, sire… Erm, sir, we could also have footman carry along mugs, plates, and metal utensils.”
Arthur pursed his lips. “Go on.”
“When the enemy riders come toward us, we have the men bang the plates, silverware, and mugs.”
“Interesting,” Arthur said while looking down at the field of sand. “Make note of it and we’ll test the idea when we get back.”
“You honestly are the strangest bunch of people I’ve ever met,” said Mrs. Levstall as she looked around the room.
“You have no idea,” Merlin agreed.
THE BATTLE
Gaheris watched as Sir Bors de Ganis stood at the base of the faux castle wall, looking up at the overweight king who was sitting on a throne that Gaheris considered tiny. The queen, known to Gaheris as “Leslie,” sat on an even smaller chair.
“My lord,” Bors called up in his powerful voice, “doeth not the righteousness of thine words summon the truth and goodness of all mankind?”
“Well said, Sir Purcivale,” called the king, holding forth his wine. “Well said, indeed.”
§ § §
Arthur glanced over at Merlin. “Did he say ‘Sir Purcivale?’”
“It’s a play, remember?”
“History truly does represent things the way it wants to, doesn’t it?”
Merlin frowned. “Tell me about it.”
§ § §
“The flowing of words are akin to the seeds of the divine wine when spoken from the lips of a king as worthy as you, sire,” Kay said at full volume.
“You honor me, Sir Tristan,” the king replied strongly.
§ § §
“Seriously?”
“Arthur,” Guinevere said warningly, “keep yourself in check, dear.”
“But, come on,” said Arthur, motioning toward the sandy pit.
§ § §
“Are you ready for this?” said the man who was dressed in all black as he stepped up beside Gaheris, who was standing by the curtain.
“Aye, I’m ready,” Gaheris replied icily. “I don’t understand why we don’t just kill you now, though. Makes no sense to me.”
“You’re a funny guy, pal,” the man replied, slapping Gaheris on the back.
“And they call me uneducated.”
The Evil Knight smiled. “Way to stay in character.”
“It’s about my time,” said another, larger man whom Geheris had not seen before.
He was wearing a black robe that sported a hood. He also had a large, gnarled walking stick and, if Gaheris wasn’t imagining things, he appeared to be carrying a glass ball.
“Who are you supposed to be?”
“I’m Merlin, obviously,” the fellow replied.
“You’re way too tall to be Merlin,” Gaheris scoffed. “And you’re fat, too. Merlin is not fat.”
“Screw you, pal.”
From outside the room, the king exclaimed, “The realm shall ever remain in peace!”
The crowd roared at the proclamation.
“Well, that’s my cue,” said the fellow claiming to be Merlin as he walked out into the arena.
Fog began to fill the area and the lights dimmed. A hush came across the spectators as a deep, resonating grumble shook the walls.
“Merlin,” the king said, “is that you?”
“It is I, my king,” said a voice that was far too deep to belong to the fellow who had just walked out.
“Why are you here?”
“I bring dark tidings.”
“What of?”
“The most treacherous kind, my sovereign.” He lifted the crystal ball and waved his hand over it. “There is one who has betrayed your highness and is threatening to tear this land from your most worthy hands.”
§ § §
“I kind of like the way he talks,” noted Arthur.
“Ridiculous,” said Merlin as he chewed his fingernails.
“Your turn to relax, Merl,” said Galahad.
“Up yours, Gal.”
§ § §
“Who is this traitor you speak of?” demanded the king.
“The crystal ball does not reveal all of its secrets, sire, but I can say that his tidings are heinous indeed.”
“What shall we do, Merlin?” the king asked. “Is there nothing that your magic can tell us?”
“Prepare yourselves for battle, ye of the most high, for tonight there comes darkness.”
The fog returned along with the oohs and ahhs of the crowd.
“That was fun,” said the man who was portraying Merlin. “Good luck, guys.”
“Thanks, pal,” the Evil Knight said a little too jovially.
“What shall we do, Sirs Purcivale and Tristan?” the king cried. “Have I not just promised the people peace and prosperity?”
“We shall prevail, my king,” Bors answered in his operatic way.
“Our knights are the finest in the land, sire.” Kay had dropped to one knee dramatically. “Let this Evil Knight bring his worst!”
The crowd roared.
“My turn,” the Evil Knight said, grinning ear-to-ear. “Break a leg, buddy.”
“I plan to break more than just that,” Gaheris said, gripping the hilt of his sword firmly.
“Sure, okay.”
The Evil Knight strode purposefully out into the open after pulling down the lid of his helm. Gaheris had to admit that the man looked impressive in his armor, but as a Knight of the Round Table, Gaheris had faced worse. This fellow, evil or not, was young and likely untested in the realm of battle. Still, Gaheris would be careful. He’d been fooled before.
The crowd booed and hissed at the Evil Knight as he arrived at the center of the sandy pit. This did well for Gaheris’s faith in these people. At least they were not fooled, even if his fellow knights had been.
“What is this all about?” demanded the king.
“It’s the Evil Knight, sire,” exclaimed Bors. “I shall summon the guard immediately.”
“Your knights are no match for me,” said the Evil Knight in a wretched voice that made Gaheris’s skin crawl.
“Stay your tongue, man,” commanded Kay as he reached for his sword. “Your villainous ways will underline the reasons of your demise.”
“The linings of your op
probrious soul shall cower in fear at the ferocity with which our knights wield their blades,” yelled Bors.
§ § §
“Honestly,” Arthur said while crossing his arms, “whoever wrote this has absolutely no idea how Purcivale and Tristan truly speak. And what in the Seven Hundred and Nineteen Hells does ‘opprobrious’ mean anyway?”
“Let it go, will you?” Merlin said.
Mrs. Levstall laughed heartily as Guinevere kicked Arthur’s leg.
“Ouch!”
§ § §
“Knights of the realm,” hollered Bors, “hear me. We have need of you now!”
That was the call that Gaheris had heard many times over his years. It made his heart race and his blood flow. It brought on a mix of excitement and terror that nothing else could ever provide. It was fear personified, and it made his tummy unstable.
“Gah… Guh…”
“What are you doing?” said an unfamiliar knight who was standing next to him.
“Gah… Guh…”
Another one said, “And what is that smell?” just as they were all pushed out into the pit.
The crowd was cheering at full volume now. It was all Gaheris could do to keep his calm. He was amazed that the horses had been able to hold it together with all of this ruckus. It also made him understand the demand that the crowd not bang their plates and mugs, for if they had started doing that at the moment he feared that he may have to do a second round of Gahs and Guhs.
“This man has challenged the throne and threatens to send our righteous kingdom into darkness,” said Bors.
“His are the ways of the abyss,” added Kay. “We shall not bow to this foe. We shall prevail.”
“Strong words,” said the Evil Knight, “but I am no fool. I have yet another surprise for you.” With that he turned toward the soldiers and commanded, “Knights, come to me!”
In all of his years at battle, Gaheris had never witnessed the likes of this. Maybe this was what true magic was like? He’d seen Merlin turn on flameless lamps and even do a few fascinating card tricks, but to flip a regiment of knights from loyalty? Never. One or two men, sure, but not this many.
“What is this devilry?” the king asked, looking genuinely shocked. “Have you men lost your loyalties?”
“They know when a battle is already lost,” stated the Evil Knight.
Gaheris pulled forth his sword, knowing that his time was now. Whether this man was his king or not was irrelevant. He was commanded by the true king of England to defend this fellow, and defend him he shall. Tyranny would never stand as long as a man like Gaheris drew breath.
The crowd silenced as all eyes turned toward him. This startled Gaheris. Had he done something wrong?
Bors hissed, “Say your line, man!”
“Hmmm? Ah, yes. Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I am Sir Gary, and I shall prod you with my rusty dagger!”
The crowd broke into laughter.
“Ridiculous,” said Bors, throwing his sword to the ground.
Kay followed suit and said, “Embarrassing.”
The Evil Knight started to speak, but then stopped and looked in Gaheris’s general direction as the crowd continued laughing.
Finally, he said, “Uh... I shall destroy you all with the true power. The power of darkness!” Then, he stopped and pointed at Sir Gaheris’s trousers and added, “My goodness, man, have you soiled your britches?”
“I go where I go,” Gaheris replied grimly.
The crowd laughed even harder than before.
“Honestly,” said Bors, “I’m about to walk off the set.”
“Keep your composure, Borsy.”
The king leaned out and yelled, “Attack, my knights! The fate of the realm is in your hands.”
IT'S A BOY!
It’s a boy,” said Lance-A-Lot as he burst from Allison’s room.
“Congratulations, laddy,” said Arty with a wide smile.
“I’m not a lady.”
“Nay, I meant… Forget it. Have ye picked a name for the wee lad?”
Lance-A-Lot looked away. “It’s not my place.”
“Since when?”
“I guess since we came to the future. Besides, sire, Allison already has a name planned.”
“Ah,” Arty said, understanding how quickly a man could fall under the watchful eye of a lady.
“Mitch Bowenkowski, Jr.,” said Lance-A-Lot almost proudly.
“So it ain’t after bein’ yer kid?” Arty asked.
“Yes, he is.”
“But ye said Junior, eh?”
“My real name is Mitch Bowenkowski, sire.”
“No shet? I knew about the Mitch part, but not the Bowenkowski bit.”
The doctor walked out and shook Lance-A-Lot’s hand and then walked off. A moment later, the nurse followed, explaining that he could go back in now.
“Do you want to see him?” Lance-A-Lot asked Arty.
“It’d be me honor.”
The room was bigger than most spaces that Arty had in his castle back in Medieval Scotland, but it was just as bland as the rest of the hospital. Allison was in a bed that had her angled up slightly. There was a baby lying next to her in its own little bed.
“Hello, Arty,” said Allison tiredly.
“Yer after rememberin’ me, lass?”
“Of course.”
Arty beamed at this. He wasn’t considered the most memorable king, after all.
He knelt down and studied the wee baby for a moment.
“Fine lookin’ lad.” Then he coughed slightly and added, “Sorry about the boy’s defect, though.” He straightened up. “Things like this happen, though. Nothing to worry about.”
“Defect?” Allison said, jerking her head toward the boy.
“What?” said Lance-A-Lot, stepping over.
Arty pointed. “He’s got three legs.”
“Oh,” Lance-A-Lot said with relief. “That’s not a leg, sire.”
“Sure it is. Ye can see it right... Oh, wait, forgot he was your boy.”
“Indeed,” Allison said, smiling.
“Ah dinnae ken,” Arthur said as he rubbed his beard, “but I think they’ll be needin’ an axe to circumcise the lad.”
IMPROVISE
Mrs. Levstall had walked over to the ledge of the window and was pointing down at Gaheris.
“What’s Gary doing?”
“Fighting,” answered Arthur proudly as he looked on.
For a large man, Gaheris was swift on his feet and deft with the blade. His strokes landed in huge arcs, knocking the other actors to the ground with each blow, as he hewed his way across the field toward the man wearing black.
The Evil Knight had dropped his sword and was steadily backing away from the monstrous madman pursuing him, reminding Arthur why Gaheris, faults and all, was worthy to be called a Knight of the Round Table.
“A little too well,” said Guinevere, standing next to Arthur, “don’t you think?”
“Hmmm?” Arthur said. “Oh, yes, maybe so.”
“I don’t think he gets that this is a play,” said Merlin.
“I’m all about realism,” said Mrs. Levstall, “but I fear that man is going to seriously injure someone.”
“It’s the one thing he thrives at,” Galahad stated.
“That and soiling himself,” said Arthur.
“Ah, yes, that too.”
“Someone needs to stop him,” Mrs. Levstall said in a huff.
Arthur stood up and walked to the door. “Don’t worry, fair lady. I shall take care of it.”
He stepped out of the door, bringing his kingly nature to bear. There were times when a king could be a queen, but right now was not one of those times. No, now was the time for Arthur to stand tall.
There was a tug on his coat as he exited the room, but his mind was focused and he just let his arms go so that the coat fell to the floor.
“Halt,” he bellowed above the clamoring of swords and the roar of the crowd.
Eve
ryone stopped and the room filled with silence. When a king spoke, people listened.
A bright light shone directly on Arthur, but he did nothing to shield his eyes. He had to look strong.
The crowd said, “ooh,” and then “ahh,” and then “huh?”
“Sir Gaheris,” he yelled, “I command you to lower your sword this instant!”
Gaheris dropped his sword immediately as Arthur continued his walk toward the main field.
The man playing the part of the king yelled out, “Who are you?”
“I am the true king of Camelot,” answered Arthur.
“More like queen,” the king in the tower said with a snort.
“What’s that?” said Arthur. Then he looked down at himself and realized that he should have paid attention to his coat being ripped from his person. He stood now in full sight of the crowd and the actors while wearing his womanly garb. Well, there was no turning back now. “Ah, nothing but a ruse,” he said, feeling inspired. “I am dressed as thus to fool the Evil Knight.”
“It’s working,” said the Evil Knight.
Bors turned to Kay and said, “Did you know he could act?”
“Hadn’t a clue.”
“And again,” said Arthur, “let it be known that I am the true king of Camelot.”
“Are you challenging my throne?” said the actor in the tower.
“Stay your tongue, you wretched fool,” Arthur said, really getting into things now. “The throne you sit upon belongs to me and I am the only one who is capable of taming the sword of Gaheris.”
The crowd laughed.
“Well, that sounded wrong,” said Bors.
The actor portraying the king looked over at Leslie. “Is this in the script?”
She shrugged. “First I’ve seen it.”
“What the hell is going on?” said the Evil Knight.
“Quiet, you,” Gaheris warned while taking a step toward the man.
Comedic Arthurian Bundle: The Adventures of Queen Arthur Page 20