Comedic Arthurian Bundle: The Adventures of Queen Arthur
Page 21
“All right, all right,” the Evil Knight replied, holding his hands up in surrender. “Chill out, will ya, pal?”
Arthur lifted his robe, careful to avoid letting everyone see his undergarments, and climbed the railing. He leaped down to the sand and walked purposefully to Sirs Bors, Kay, and Gaheris.
“You have fought bravely today, my knights, but the battle is done. This Evil Knight fellow will give up now, yes?”
“Damn straight,” the man said without hesitation.
“Right,” said Arthur and then looked down at his pants. “Did you soil your britches again?”
“I go where I go,” said Gaheris, shrugging. “You know that, sire.”
The crowd laughed again. It clearly didn’t take much to entertain a group of people who were filled with ale.
“Gwen is not going to be pleased with you. Those were her—”
“Sire?” interrupted Bors, eying the crowd.
“Oh, yes, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Other knights, arrest the Evil Knight and have him executed!”
“Come with us, you treacherous fool,” said Bors, taking the man by his arm.
“You shall suffer the wrath of Camelot,” agreed Kay, grabbing the other arm.
“Honestly,” Arthur said to Gaheris, “Purcivale and Tristan do not speak so eloquently.”
“Tell me about it,” said Gaheris.
The Evil Knight waited until he was out of Gaheris’s reach before shouting, “I shall get you if it takes my dying breath, King Arthur!”
“We shall see,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “Now, Sir Gaheris, you may leave the battlefield knowing that you have served your king well.”
“Again,” noted the actor in the throne above them, “more like queen.”
The crowd laughed and began to clap heartily, even to the point of a standing ovation. Arthur felt elated at this response, finally coming to understand why Bors and Kay enjoyed this acting thing as much as they did.
§ § §
“That’s the loudest I’ve ever seen them cheer in all my years owning this place,” said Mrs. Levstall proudly.
“Arthur does carry himself well, doesn’t he?” Guinevere said proudly.
“The gown could go, but his instincts are incredible.”
Merlin nodded. “He does have a way about him.”
“No arguing that,” said Galahad. “Makes one hell of a queen.”
BACKSTAGE
Wilhelm came running into the room. He was all smiles as he stopped in front of the actors.
“That was simply amazing,” he said.
Arthur waved his hand humbly. “It was nothing.”
“You’re not even on the cast list,” said Wilhelm, “but you were incredible. You simply must join the show. We’ll do rewrites to fit your part, of course.”
“It was an inspired performance, sire,” Bors said strongly.
“That it was,” agreed Kay. “You have excellent instincts.”
“Idiots,” said Gaheris.
“Thanks for the bruises, asshole,” one of the other actors said as he pushed past Gaheris.
Gaheris frowned. “What did he call me?”
“You busted my lip, shit-for-brains,” said the Evil Knight before scurrying away, looking terrified.
“Did that evildoer just call me a—”
“For the love of the heavens, Gary,” screamed Bors, “it’s a play. P. L. A. Y.”
“I don’t think he can spell, Borsy.”
“They were all just actors,” finished Bors so loudly that Arthur nearly covered his ears.
“Get it through your fat head, man,” Kay agreed.
“They had swords and they were threatening the king,” Gaheris said defensively.
“But you can obviously see that it wasn’t real, Sir… Erm, Gary,” said Arthur, more gently.
Gaheris looked from man to man. “The blade I was given was purposefully dulled, sire.”
“All the swords are blunted and dulled,” Wilhelm explained, still smiling. “We don’t want anyone to become seriously injured.”
“Think of the crowds and the food, Gary.”
“Yes, sire?”
“Would they be here if this were a true battle?”
Gaheris stepped back and crossed his arms. He looked to be weighing things, or he was possibly soiling his britches again… or maybe both. Finally, he lifted his head.
“So all of this was fake?”
“Of course it was, you needle-headed baboon,” said Bors, obviously tired.
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Gaheris asked.
“We did say so,” Kay said, holding Bors at bay. “We said so repeatedly. At one point, you even agreed that you had to pretend to be yourself and all of that.”
“I see it now,” Gaheris said with a slow nod. “I offer my apologies, sire, and I believe I should also ask forgiveness from the fellow pretending to be the Evil Knight.” He paused and looked up at them all. “He was pretending, too, right?”
Bors groaned.
“Moron,” said Kay.
“Look, fellas,” said Wilhelm, “I don’t know what you’re all talking about, but Gary has a line of people out there who are begging for his autograph.”
“Ah,” Bors said, shaking the life back into himself, “we should probably get to the signings, Kay.”
“Uh, sorry,” Wilhelm said with his hands up, “they didn’t ask for either of you.”
“Say this isn’t true,” said Kay.
“You must be jesting,” Bors added.
“Sorry. They did request the autograph of the Arthur wearing the gown, though.”
“Dastardly,” Kay said to Bors.
Bors just shook his head and whispered, “The fates are truly unfair.”
GOING HOME
Two weeks had passed since the night of the show. Everyone had done a few encores, though they couldn’t quite replicate the magic of Gaheris not knowing that it was a play. He tried, but it just wasn’t the same.
“And so, sire,” explained Lance-A-Lot as they stood in the office where the time machine was housed, “I’ve decided to stay and help raise the child.”
Knight or not, Arthur knew that he had no right to come between a man and his family.
“Are you certain of this? Maybe Allison could return to our time?”
“She can’t,” answered Merlin. “It would mess up the timeline.”
“What’s a timeline, again?
“I’m still shaky on the details, Arthur.”
“My life is here anyway,” Allison said as she continued working on the thing called a “computer.” Arthur was impressed at the speed with which her fingers moved on the little buttons. “I have no interest in living back in those days,” she continued, “and I certainly don’t want little Mitchy to have to deal with the medicine of your time.”
“No arguing that,” said Guinevere.
“Then you are resigning as head of the order?” Arthur asked Lance-A-Lot.
“That depends on you, sire,” replied the knight. “I was thinking that we could adopt something I saw that today’s military does.”
“Oh?”
“We could start up a Knights Reserve.”
Arthur furrowed his brow. “What’s that?”
“Essentially, you go through all of the training and then you just have to report to do one weekend a month to keep your skills intact.”
“Interesting idea, actually.”
“So I would come back to Camelot every month for a weekend, train with the lads, and then return here.”
“Ye all have strange thoughts,” said Arty with a shake of his head.
Arthur ignored him. “And what if there’s a war?”
“Then I report for duty as expected.”
“I’ll have to consider this,” Arthur stated.
“I’d love to stay here as well, truth be told,” Bors said as he glanced around the room, “but I don’t think my lovely Penelope would abide.”
Gaheris grunted. “I wanna go home.”
“Aye,” said Arty, “I’m with potty-pants.”
“Watch yourself,” warned Gaheris.
“What? It’s just a nickname I’ve got for ye.”
“I don’t like that nickname.”
“Why not?” Arty asked, seemingly serious. “Ye pee yer pants, don’t ye?”
“I go where—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Arty said, shushing the man. “We know ye do, and ye’ve got no qualms with that, have ye?”
“No,” answered Gaheris with a sideways look.
“So what’s wrong with bein’ known by it, then? Own up to who ye are, man.” Arty nodded strongly and gave Gaheris a serious look. “Calling ye potty-pants is not a slight, it’s a testament to your wee-will! In a manner of speakin’ anyhoo.”
“Oh, that’s different, then.” Gaheris looked about thoughtfully. “Thanks for pointing that out, Gay Arty.”
“What? I’m not gay!”
“Okay,” said Merlin as Arty argued his case with Galahad, “so we’re all set to return to Camelot?”
“I have everything input,” answered Allison before slapping Galahad’s hand. “Could you please not touch those dials?”
“Sorry,” he said, rubbing his fingers. “What do they do?”
“They determine the year that you return home.”
“Ah.”
“You didn’t spin them, did you?” she said, glancing at them.
“I don’t think so.”
“Good,” she said. “We should be all set, then. Been having some software issues as of late, but I’m pretty sure all the kinks are out.”
“What?” asked Arty.
“Nothing to worry about,” she replied as she directed everyone back onto the platform. “Now, everyone get ready to go. Not you, Lance.”
“Oh, right.”
“I’ll put thought to your request, Sir Lance-A-Lot,” Arthur said as he shook the man’s hand.
“Call me Mitch, sire. At least while we’re here.”
“Right,” Arthur replied with a smile.
“See you soon, Merlin,” said Allison, giving the man a hug. “And thanks to you all for caring enough about my well-being to come and seek me out.”
“What are friends for?” said Merlin.
“Right.” She moved back to the computer and pressed a button. “And three ... two... one…”
The world spun again in that cacophony of lights and noise until they struck the other side of the timeline.
§ § §
Ceallach stood at the edge of the campsite with Doonan. They were both looking at Camelot as the sun began its evening descent.
“It’s been too long,” Ceallach said.
“Aye,” agreed Doonan.
“I’m after thinkin’ somethin’ nefarious has happened to our king.”
“Aye.”
“And I want you to sneak into town and find out what exactly that is.”
“Aye,” said Doonan and then choked. “I?”
“Why’re you after sayin’ yes twice for?”
“Nah, meant me.”
“What?”
“Yer wantin’ me to go in there alone?” said Doonan worriedly.
“Aye.”
§ § §
The disorientation took a few minutes to wear off, which Arthur hoped explained the fact that they appeared to be standing in the middle of the desert. Also, he hoped that it explained why there were soldiers standing around with leather outfits and swords.
“Is it just me or are we not after bein’ back in the tree?” asked Arty.
“Uh oh,” said Merlin.
“Uh oh?” said Arthur. “Why uh oh?”
“Yeah, Merlin,” said Galahad as he rose slowly to his feet, “why uh oh?”
“You didn’t spin those dials, right Galahad?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Argh!”
Guinevere brushed off her knees. “This is definitely not Camelot.”
“And those are definitely not our soldiers,” noted Bors.
“Agreed, Borsy,” said Kay. “The outfits are all wrong.”
“Merlin?” said Arthur sternly, “what’s going on?
“If I’m correct in what I’m seeing,” Merlin said, “at least judging by the outfits and the swords, and pikes, and those helms, and the buildings in the background, and the fact that Galahad the Goober can’t keep his hands off things when I’ve explicitly told him on numerous occasions that—”
“Merlin?” interrupted Arthur.
“Sorry.” The wizard gulped. “I think we’ve been transported back to ancient Rome.”
“Yer after jokin’, yeah?” said Arty hopefully.
“Sorry, Arty,” Merlin replied as the soldiers drew their swords and surrounded the group, “but I’m really not.”
“Shet.”
Suddenly everyone stopped as they heard a familiar sound from behind them. As one, they all spun around and glanced up at Gaheris. He had a look of sheer determination on his face as he stared past the group and at the Roman soldiers.
“Uh oh,” said Bors.
“Indeed,” said Kay.
“I’m after knowin’ that look,” Arty stated.
“Not now, man,” hissed Galahad.
“What’s he doing?” asked Guinevere.
“Yes, what?” said Merlin.
“Preparing for battle,” Arthur replied with a sigh while Gaheris’s right eye twitched slightly and his face reddened.
“Gah … Guh …”
THE PAST IS PRESENT
Arthur, Guinevere, Arty, Merlin, Galahad, Bors de Ganis, Kay, and Gaheris all stood in front of a couple of Roman guards who were wielding swords.
The landscape around them signaled that Merlin had been correct in his assumption regarding where they’d landed. This was definitely Ancient Rome. At least according to the descriptions Arthur had read when in school as a lad. There were large buildings in the distance with columns and grand architecture, the grounds were immaculately manicured, people wore little white outfits called “two goes” or something like that, and the guard uniforms were made of that dark leather that Arthur had always found to be fashionable.
While he was certain his knights could easily overpower the two men, especially since one was a bit old and somewhat portly and the other was so thin it was amazing he could hold the sword up at all, Arthur recognized this wasn’t Camelot. That meant a skirmish with these two would likely result in bringing the full bore of the Roman guards down upon their heads.
But Sir Gaheris had already started making his trademarked “Gah” and “Guh” sounds that signaled he was readying for battle. And even if you missed the sounds, it wouldn’t be long before you caught wind of his preparations.
“Calm yourself, Gaheris,” Arthur commanded.
Gaheris grimaced. “But I’m already halfway prepared, sire. I can’t easily stop now.”
“Well, go over behind that boulder and do what you must.”
Gaheris began to carefully pad off to the rock as Arthur shook his head at the man.
Guinevere sighed at Arthur in her way. This was a common thing with his beloved as Arthur seemed to always be doing the wrong thing in one fashion or another, at least in her eyes. But she was his radiant lady... even though she was currently wearing a green top that was cut like one belonging to a ranger and a pair of brown pantaloons that were unheard of for a lady to wear in royal circles. To be fair, though, Arthur had on a green gown and a fresh round of makeup that he’d put on when in Allison’s restroom in the future.
“Where does he think he’s going?” asked the thin guard, pointing his sword at the departing Gaheris.
“Oh, sorry,” Arthur said, remembering their current predicament. “He’s gone to relieve some pressure.”
“You mean he’s taking a—”
Arthur nodded. “Yes.”
“I believe
there’s a fine for that,” announced the portly man.
The two guards looked at each other for a moment and nodded.
To Arthur, this clearly indicated there wasn’t likely a fine, which was a good thing since they didn’t have any currency for this day and age. They hadn’t had any in the future either, but they were able to get by using their ingenuity, along with Sir Lance-A-Lot’s extra appendage, of course. Unfortunately, Lance wasn’t here. Arthur cringed at the fact that he thought it unfortunate.
“What should we do, Arthur?” said Merlin, leaning in to whisper.
The little wizard—or was it “scientist” now?—had on his purple hat (the one covered in stars and moons), a matching jacket, a white shirt that represented some fellow who appeared to be dancing, and the words “Elvis Lives” stenciled on it, and a pair of pants he referred to as “jeans.”
“You’re the one who got us into this mess, Merlin,” Arthur whispered back.
“Right, but you’re the kingly sort.” Merlin paused and glanced over Arthur in his current garb. “Well, queenly, I guess, but—”
“Oh, so now I’m a king?” Arthur said, his voice on the rise. “All those years I’ve attempted to treat you like one of my subjects and you did nothing but tell me how you didn’t go in for that hoopla. But we face a bit of trouble and suddenly having royalty around is comforting, eh?”
“No, you dullard,” replied Merlin, “it’s because these two are guards from a different age. And while they will undoubtedly not know the name of Merlin, they should well see that flash of royalty that you carry about as if born with it!”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Arthur looked at his feet for a moment before realizing the full breadth of what Merlin had said. “Hey, wait, I was born with it.”
“No, you achieved it upon finding Excalibur.”
“Achieved,” Arthur conceded, “but by birth it was my destiny.”
Merlin waved his hand. “Semantics.”
“Sorry to interrupt this engrossing dialog,” said the thin guard, “but who exactly are you people?”
Arthur cleared his throat and stood up tall, puffing his chest out.
“I am King Arthur of Camelot.”