King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3

by K. M. Shea

  A King Arthur and Her Knights threepack

  Enthroned #1

  Enchanted #2

  Embittered #3

  By: K. M. Shea

  a Take Out The Trash! Publication

  Copyright © K.M. Shea 2013

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any number whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Character List

  Enthroned

  Chapter 1: Sword in the Stone

  Chapter 2: Enemies of the Crown

  Chapter 3: Crowning the King

  Chapter 4: the Lady of the Lake

  Chapter 5: Arriving at Camelot

  Chapter 6: Negotiating with Hostages

  Chapter 7: To War

  Chapter 8: The End of the Beginning

  Enthroned Extra: About King Arthur

  Enchanted

  Chapter 1: Departures and Arrivals

  Chapter 2: Paying a Social Call

  Chapter 3: Family Loyalties

  Chapter 4: The “Sable” Knight

  Chapter 5: Defined Loyalties

  Chapter 6: The Battle for Knights

  Chapter 7: A Hunting Party

  Enchanted Extra: Queen Morgause & Arthur’s Pets

  Embittered

  Chapter 1: The Arrival of Lancelot

  Chapter 2: A Quest

  Chapter 3: Scouting Fun

  Chapter 4: Trapped

  Chapter 5: A White Knight

  Chapter 6: Going Home

  Embittered Extra: Of Lancelot and Guinevere

  Embittered Extra Scenes

  Short Story: On the Observations of Sir Kay

  Also by K.M. Shea

  Coming Soon

  Character List

  Agravain: the second son of King Lot and Queen Morgause of Orkney.

  Ban: One of two kings who marched with Britt against Lot and his allies. He is from France, is well groomed, and is the father of Lancelot.

  Bedivere: A knight Britt met in London when she was crowned King. Britt chose him as her marshal on an impulse, without any input from Merlin. Bedivere is the only knight in Britt’s close circle who does not know she is a girl.

  Bodwain: Britt’s constable and one of Merlin’s Minions.

  Bors: One of two kings who marched with Britt against Lot and his allies. He is from France, although he appears to be half bear. He has two sons, Lionel and Bors the younger.

  Ector: the man who was selected to be Arthur’s foster father. He has taken a similar role in Britt’s life.

  Gaheris: the third son of King Lot and Queen Morgause of Orkney.

  Gareth: The youngest son of King Lot and Queen Morgause of Orkney.

  Gawain: Eldest son of King Lot and Queen Morgause of Orkney.

  Griflet: A young, ignorant knight who is related to Sir Bedivere and close friends with Ywain.

  Guinevere: The daughter of King Leodegrance whom Britt dislikes thanks to modern King Arthur stories and legends.

  Igraine: Mother of the real Arthur, Uther Pendragon was her second husband.

  Kay: Britt’s seneschal and supposed foster brother. He takes Britt’s safety seriously, and is often seen writing in a log book.

  Lancelot: The only son of King Bors whom Britt despises thanks to modern King Arthur stories and legends.

  Leodegrance: King of Camelgrance, one of Britt’s first allies.

  Lot: King of Orkney and once was Britt’s worst enemy. He rallied kings and knights and led them to battle before Britt and her allies overthrew him.

  Maleagant: A duke and friend of King Ryence.

  Merlin: Britt’s chief counselor who is also responsible for yanking Britt back through time. He openly uses Britt to accomplish his dream of uniting Britain.

  Morgause: Daughter of Igraine and Arthur’s half sister. She is married to King Lot of Orkney and has four sons Gawain, Agravain, Gaheris, and Gareth. She corresponds with Britt, whom she highly esteems as Britt is the only female ruler (even if she is secretly female) in Britain.

  Nymue: the beautiful Lady of the Lake who “gave” Excalibur to Britt.

  Pellinore: A noble looking king who attacked Britt with King Lot, King Urien, and King Ryence. He is now Britt’s ally.

  Ryence: A cowardly king who attacked Britt with King Lot, King Urien, and King Pellinore.

  Ulfius: An older knight who once served under Uther Pendragon and now serves Britt as her chamberlain.

  Urien: the brother-in-law of King Lot and a King in his own right, Urien originally fought with Lot, Pellinore, and Ryence against Britt but has since become Britt’s vassal because he believes she holds his son, Ywain, hostage in Camelot.

  Uther Pendragon: Considered to be one of the greatest kings of England. He is the real Arthur’s father, and died some years ago—leaving all of his lands and money to Arthur.

  Ywain: The only offspring of King Urien. He swore loyalty to Britt after being captured by her men and has revered her ever since. Morgause is his aunt.

  Enthroned

  King Arthur and Her Knights Book 1

  By: K. M. Shea

  a Take Out The Trash! Publication

  Copyright © K.M. Shea 2013

  Chapter 1

  Sword in the Stone

  King Arthur is a legendary British king and hero. His historical existence and role is widely debated, but he is said to have been crowned at age 15 on the day of Pentecost. The day of his crowning ceremony he selected Merlin as his counselor, Sir Ulfius as his chamberlain, Sir Bodwain as his constable, his foster brother Sir Kay as seneschal, and Sir Bedivere as marshal.

  “Britt!”

  Although the stories and events linked to Arthur vary widely, most Arthurian stories include: the wizard Merlin, Uther Pendragon as Arthur’s father, the sword Excalibur, and Arthur’s wife Guinevere. “Britt come on, pose for a picture.”

  Britt ripped her eyes from the travel guidebook’s blurb on King Arthur to address her friends. “No thanks. Commemorative graveyard photos aren’t my thing.”

  Lyssa—Britt’s long time friend and one of her three traveling companions—placed her hands on her hips. “We’re not taking photos of the cemetery. We’re posing with this sword. It’s very knightly I’ll have you know! Now stuff it and pose. You’re the fencer, this shot was made for you.”

  Britt slapped the guidebook shut and threw it into her backpack. “I am not a fencer.”

  “Sorry Britt, she meant that you’re into Historical European Martial Arts,” Amber, the peace-keeper of the bunch, said as she took a photo of Lyssa—who was pantomiming pulling a rust covered sword from what looked like a mutated anvil.

  “The point is you’re the one that knows all about sword fighting. It’s only right that you pose with the sword,” Lyssa said, brushing her palms together to rid herself of the grit the sword left on her hand.

  Britt—still not totally willing—twisted around to look at the cathedral the lonesome cemetery was nestled behind. “Lyssa, why did you want to come here? I didn’t think anything of importance in King Arthur lore happened in London.
I thought today we were supposed to go see the Sherlock Holmes museum at 221b Baker Street.”

  “That’s not true. Arthur was crowned in London before he founded Camelot. And stop worrying, we’ll have plenty of time to see Holmes, my dear Watson,” Lyssa said, patting Britt on the back. “Grace, you’re up.”

  Grace—the last member of their English Book Sightseeing Extravaganza—stepped up to the sword and placed her foot on the stone before wrapping her hand around the hilt. “Cheese,” she said with a big, toothy smile.

  Amber took the photo before offering Britt an apologetic smile. “Tomorrow we leave for Bath, that will be fun. Don’t a lot of Jane Austen novels take place there?”

  “Northanger Abbey starts there, yeah,” Britt said before returning the smile. “But I can’t wait to tour Beatrix Potter’s farm.”

  “Hilltop, right?” Grace asked, zigzagging around a gravestone.

  “Britt,” Lyssa said, pulling her eyebrows together. “Stop stalling and pose for a stinkin’ picture. It’s a sword in a freaking stone. The photo op is priceless!”

  “I’m not touching that. It’s rusted and gross. I bet it’s infected with contagious diseases,” Britt said, stabbing a finger at the corroded weapon.

  “Britt!”

  “Fine, fine, fine,” Britt grumbled. She hitched her backpack further up her shoulders before approaching the weapon. “After this can we eat?” she asked, turning to face Amber after stationing herself behind the sword. “How about some fish and chips?” she suggested as she reached out to touch the sword. The moment Britt’s fingertips brushed the rough rust a pillar of light, almost like a spotlight, shot out of the cloudy London sky and enveloped Britt. There was harp music and sparkles that fell like snowflakes before Britt was shocked.

  The sword felt like harnessed lightning, like a high voltage taser. It made Britt shake uncontrollably, but she couldn’t let go. Her hand wouldn’t release the sword. Her arm surged with electricity and pain, the world went white, and then all was black.

  “Yes, this is the future King we’ve been waiting for. Sir Ector, congratulations. You are the proud new father of a foundling.”

  Britt ached. Every particle of her being tingled, and her eyes were heavy and gritty. She tried to form words but was only able to utter garbled nonsense. “Gyuuu Lysssa, hwate juuuu.”

  “…This is our future King?”

  “Yes. He sounds stupid, but it’s best not to judge him yet. Time travel makes even the most eloquent minds stupid, I would think.”

  Britt managed to roll her eyes open, which allowed her to discover that she was flat on her front, surrounded by shriveled weeds. Britt spat dead grass out of her mouth and rolled over. She was going to kill Lyssa. A priceless photo op? HAH!

  When Britt rocked to a stop she found herself blinking up at a man. He had pale blonde hair, but his eyes were a dazzling shade of blue. He was drowning in a watery grey cloak that reminded Britt of cold water. It was definitely a cloak, not a jacket. It was practically a dress as it fell past his knees. The man caught Britt’s gaze and smiled—a gesture so handsome it momentarily made Britt forget about his ridiculous outfit. “Greetings, new ruler of Britain.”

  Britt fell out of her smile-stricken trance. “What?”

  The man’s brow momentarily wrinkled. “You’re a girl,” he said, staring at Britt’s chest.

  “Yeah? Are we rare in these parts or something?” Britt said, wincing as she eased herself upright. She frowned. Lyssa, Amber, and Grace were nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen three other girls around here?” she asked, fishing a dead leaf out of her blonde hair as she looked around the graveyard. It was much smaller and much newer than she remembered. Maybe getting shocked had affected her eyesight?

  “A woman as our king?” said a man. He stood behind the cloaked hottie, next to a shorter, stocky man. Calling the speaker a man was perhaps stretching it as he was certainly under the age of twenty. Both of the onlookers wore warm cloaks that almost completely obscured their knee length tunics and the belts strapped around their waists.

  Britt stared until the young man grew uncomfortable and looked away.

  The cloaked hottie kneeled at Britt’s side, studying her with great intensity. “The sword brought her here, which means she is meant to be our king.”

  Britt cautiously looked back and forth between the men. The way they casually tossed around the word ‘king’ had Britt’s hackles raised. Had she been kidnapped by some bizarre renaissance fair cult?

  The stout, older man shifted. “Very well. She’s our King then. Only a fool fights Merlin’s word,” he said to his young companion.

  “Wait, Merlin?” Britt said. She cast her eyes at the cloaked hottie before glancing at the sword—which had not a speck of rust on it and actually glowed gold although it was still stabbed into the anvil. “I see what’s going on here. Very funny Lyssa. It’s cute, but you should have paid for this experience yourself. I don’t give two hoots for King Arthur and his knights,” Britt said as she heaved herself into a standing position. She shivered and brushed her bare arms. The temperature must have dropped while she was out of it. Previously Britt was comfortable in a t-shirt. Now she was growing jealous of the warm cloaks the renaissance actors had.

  “Lyssa?” the young man in the tunic asked.

  ‘Merlin’ stood and shooed the gawkers away. “Allow me to enlighten her to our, herm, problem. It will be easier to explain without an audience.”

  The stout man nodded and started off through the graveyard, his gait stiff but strong. The younger man leaned back on his heels.

  ‘Merlin’ smiled and pushed his cloak aside to place an arm on the young man’s shoulders. “If you would be so kind, Kay. I know this ordeal has been upsetting for you, but things will turn out. Perhaps even better than I estimated with the original Arthur. Why don’t you go polish your armor? You want to look good for the glorious event, yes? Of course you do, good day,” Merlin said, escorting the young man—Kay—to the graveyard gate. He pushed him through the border of the cemetery and watched him leave before he spun on his heels and locked his searing eyes on Britt. “Now then. What is your name, lass?”

  “Britt Arthurs,” Britt said, shivering as she peered behind a gravestone. “Lyssa, Grace? Come on Amber, help me out here,” she said as she walked through the cemetery.

  “You have two names?” ‘Merlin’ asked, strolling behind Britt.

  “What? Oh. Britt is my first name, Arthurs is my last name,” Britt said when she finished exploring the back area of the cemetery. “So who put you up to this? Lyssa? It’s gotta be Lyssa.”

  “I do not know this Lyssa you speak of. I assume she is a companion of yours in which case I can assure you she is neither here, nor is she aware of this dire situation you have found us in.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Britt Arthurs—the heavens must have selected you for I cannot believe it is mere coincidence that you also bear the name Arthur—you placed your hand on the Sword in the Stone, and it recognized you as its master and brought you back through time—very far in time might I add, based on your irregular clothes—to be crowned King of Britain,” ‘Merlin’ said, twitching his shoulders back as he drizzled his words like honey.

  Britt nodded very slowly. “Lyssa, I hate you!” she shouted, turning from ‘Merlin’ to shout at the gravestones.

  “Won’t you at least listen to my story?” ‘Merlin’ asked as he leaned against the sword.

  Britt exhaled to warm her chattering teeth. This wasn’t getting her anywhere, and Grace was going to be ticked if they didn’t make it to the Sherlock Holmes museum. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “Some years ago Uther Pendragon, son of Constantine II, King of Britannia, was crowned King after both of his brothers were killed. He fell in love with Igraine—the wife of his enemy, Gorlois. He sought my help in winning her over which I—ahh—did. A child was conceived between the two of them, a male who was to become his father’s heir. In
exchange for my help, I was given the child. I took him from the palace and placed him under the care of Sir Ector, who became his foster father. He was raised as if he were Sir Ector’s own son, along with Kay, Sir Ector’s real son. The boy, whose name was Arthur, was never informed of his parentage, however—.”

  “I know how the story goes. Sir Ector and Kay didn’t know either, but one day they were in London and Arthur pulled the sword from the stone while searching for a replacement sword for his brother, and he was crowned King of Britain,” Britt interrupted, tapping her nails on an icy headstone.

  “No, actually. Sir Ector and Kay knew all along who Arthur was. I separated Arthur from his parents because Uther was a warmonger who was likely to die at a young age, and I wished to see all of Britain united under Arthur’s ruling. I knew Sir Ector would be an excellent advisor, and Kay would be raised to be his seneschal. After all, who would make a better seneschal than your brother who won’t inherit the throne if you are killed?”

  Britt settled in, intrigued by the new aspect of the story. “I see, that does make sense. Please continue.”

  “I had plans for Arthur to learn his parentage and pull the sword you see here in the stone when Arthur was old enough. This year Arthur turned fifteen, and I judged the time had arrived. But before I could inform the lad of his birthright…,” ‘Merlin’ the Young and Handsome looked to his feet and muttered.

  “Yes?” Britt asked.

  ‘Merlin’ sighed, losing several inches of stature. “He ran off with a shepherdess over the summer months. We haven’t received any word of him, and I don’t think we will. Not in time, at least.”

  “What do you mean?” Britt said.

  “Britain will unite under Arthur’s rule because it is finally ready for a true King. I have spent years gathering knights and powerful lords who agree with my thinking. Britain will not survive if our lands remain splintered with as many rulers as there are lakes or trees. We need one King, my compatriots agree with me. But… if the King does not appear this winter—which is what we have been preparing for, for years—I am not certain the opportunity will arise again in this century. Simply put, this is our one chance and Arthur has ruined it by running off. I crafted the spell that holds the sword in the stone for him. No one else alive can pull it.”