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

by K. M. Shea

  “You couldn’t have chosen less obvious equipment?” Merlin scolded.

  “You were the one who declared my symbol would be a red dragon and went crazy decorating all my things with it,” Britt said.

  Merlin rolled his eyes. “Either way, we will have to part with any equipment that bears a personal symbol. Someone shall have to remain behind with horses and things to make sure they are not plundered by thieves,” he said, eyeing Ywain.

  The young knight violently shook his head. “Not I, I’m staying with My Lord,” he informed the wizard.

  Merlin narrowed his eyes. “Would you like to bet on that?”

  “I will remain behind,” King Pellinore said. “King Leodegrance and I are not on excellent terms. It would be better for the party if I remained away from Camelgrance.”

  “Are you certain, King Pellinore?” Britt asked. “I did not ask you to come with us so you could serve as a hostler.”

  King Pellinore dismounted. “Of that I am sure. Do not concern yourself with me, Arthur. I do not desire to see Camelgrance, but I would not mind routing any thieves or recreant knights in the area,” he said with a fiendish grin.

  “Excellent, we thank you for your cooperation, King Pellinore,” Merlin said before he too dismounted. “We shall enter Camelgrance on foot in the plainest clothes we have.”

  “What?” Sir Ywain squawked. He wore a suit of fancy armor, intricately designed and completed with a large, red plume on his helm.

  “Yes, Ywain, you shall have to change out of your odious armor,” Merlin said.

  “You wish to avoid detection,” Gawain guessed.

  “A handful of foreign knights would at the very least raise interest, if not suspicion,” Lancelot added.

  “Exactly,” Merlin said.

  “That sounds ideal. We’ll be able to slip into the castle keep easier if we are dressed as servants or merchants than if we pranced in as knights,” Britt said, sliding off Llamrei.

  “Sir Ulfius did not know where the Round Table is kept. We will have to inquire further when we enter Camelgrance,” Merlin said.

  “Is it wise to go as one group? Six strange men wandering in the inner courts of Camelgrance might raise suspicion, regardless of the station we will dress in,” Sir Kay said, stroking his mustache.

  “I am astounded, Kay. For once I find myself agreeing with you,” Merlin said.

  “Do not take it to heart. I am certain before the hour is over you shall change your mind,” Sir Kay said.

  “Perhaps you should enter in pairs,” King Pellinore suggested, slipping his horse a shriveled carrot.

  “Yes, but the question is who travels with whom?” Merlin asked, narrowing his eyes as he studied the party.

  Britt was filled with a sense of dread. “Kay and I should enter together. We can truthfully say we are brothers,” Britt said, hoping to cut the wizard off.

  Merlin snorted. “Such a statement would be like saying the finest destrier and a pack mule are siblings. No, Sir Kay will go with young Ywain as he is able to keep the lad on a short lead.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Ywain sputtered.

  Britt’s stomach plunged. “Merlin, no,” she said.

  Merlin smiled sweetly. “It would be the polite thing to do.”

  “No.”

  Chapter 3

  Scouting Fun

  Britt sourly stared directly in front of her as she slumped against a stone wall. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was an unbecoming and deeply unpleased slant.

  “It is my honor to be paired with you, My Lord. I have heard a great deal about you. I am flattered to be selected as your guard during this expedition,” Lancelot said.

  Britt slowly turned her neck to stare at Lancelot, her unpleasant expression still in place.

  The talkative knight did not notice. “I imagine Merlin selected me as your companion because I am the most experienced knight—having gone on many quests and adventures in my youth.”

  “He placed me with you because he wants me to suffer,” Britt said through gritted teeth.

  “I do not understand what you mean, My Lord.”

  Britt’s features morphed into an insincere smile. “No, I imagine you don’t.”

  “In any case, as we have safely arrived in the inner sanctum of Camelgrance, we should inquire after this table you are in search of.”

  “Of course,” Britt said, pushing off the keep wall. Her eyes combed through the bustling castle innards. She did not see Merlin and Gawain, nor Kay and Ywain. They were likely in a different part of the castle, suffering less than her and having a great deal more fun.

  Lancelot, dressed like Britt in a tunic of muted colors, waited for a few moments before he sauntered in the direction of a female servant who was struggling to carry a sack of flour.

  “If I might take a moment of your time, My Lady?” Lancelot asked with an appealing smile.

  “What? Oh, h-hello,” the servant said, her eyes widening when she got a good look at the handsome knight.

  “Greetings, fair lady. It is great fortune that has brought you, maiden with eyes of morning dew, across my path,” Lancelot said.

  The young woman grappled with her sack of flour and stared wide-eyed at Lancelot. “Thank you,” she said.

  Behind Lancelot, Britt rolled her eyes. “I apologize for my companion’s lack of decorum. It is entirely rude of us to speak with you while you carry such a burden. Please, allow me,” she said, taking the sack from the maid. She slung it over her shoulder and offered the maid a full smile.

  The young woman’s arms went slack as she stared at Britt, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

  “Where shall I carry it to?” Britt asked.

  “This way,” the maid said, tottering off to a side door of the castle keep.

  Britt and Lancelot followed in her wake, slipping into the bustling kitchens. The maid led them to a pantry, where Britt placed the flour on a shelf.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “I am pleased to have been able to help you,” Britt said. “I ask that you forgive our ignorance, but my friend and I are looking for a storage room. We’ve been told to fetch a spare table for some outdoor business, but as we are servants for our visiting master we are not versed with the castle Camelgrance,” Britt said.

  “I think the storage rooms are on the second floor. I’m a kitchen girl, so I don’t properly know. Sorry,” the young woman said.

  “There is no need to apologize. You have sent us down the right path. Thank you,” Britt said, offering the girl another smile before she bent forward in a slight but stately bow.

  “We are in your debt,” Lancelot added.

  The girl turned bright red and attempted a curtsey.

  “Come, friend. We should find a table,” Britt said, grabbing Lancelot by the shoulders and steered him from the pantry.

  Britt and Lancelot slunk from the kitchens, wandering until they found a servants’ stairway to the second floor.

  “Great, we’ll need to find more detailed instructions. This corridor alone has twenty doors. If someone sees us going through all of them they’re going to notify a guard,” Britt said.

  “Let us peer beyond the corner and see if there is someone who might be able to help us,” Lancelot suggested.

  Britt shrugged and followed the younger man. They rounded a corner and found a girl jumping up and down, grabbing at a ledge. A white cat was perched on the ledge, watching the bouncing girl with feline interest and a twitching tail.

  “Wyne, come down here you foolish cat. If My Lady finds out you’ve run off again she won’t be happy,” the girl pleaded with the cat.

  “I beg your leave, My Lady, but if we could speak to you for a moment?” Lancelot called.

  The girl whirled around. She was young, probably 15 or 16, and wore markedly better clothes than the kitchen girl. She was probably a lady in waiting based on her braided hair and clean face.

  “Good afternoon,” she said, bobbing in a curts
ey as she smiled at Lancelot.

  “Good afternoon to you, beautiful maiden,” Lancelot said.

  “What did you want to discuss?” the girl asked, shyly clasping her arms behind her back.

  “I find myself in the gravest need of your sage advice and knowledge, My Lady,” Lancelot said, batting his long eyelashes.

  The girl held a hand to her mouth to cover her grin. “Oh?”

  “Indeed. The stars have aligned to bring us together, so that you may have mercy upon me, your lowly servant, and help me in my time of need.”

  Britt heaved her eyes to the ceiling as Lancelot beat around the bush. “What he means to say is that we are in need of some direction,” Britt said, walking around Lancelot to draw closer to the ledge. She extended her hand and reached the cat on the ledge. She let it sniff her hand before she picked it off the ledge and held it against her chest. Britt briefly rubbed under its chin, getting a purr from it, before she offered the cat to the girl.

  “We have been sent to gather a table from a storage room for our master, who is visiting. Sadly we are not familiar with Camelgrance, and have been woefully unable to find such a room,” Britt said as the girl took the cat.

  When the ladies maid looked up at her, Britt flashed the girl with her most charming smile.

  “Oh,” the girl said.

  Britt waited patiently for several moments. When a reply was not forthcoming she ventured, “Do you know, perhaps, where a table may be stored?”

  The girl shook herself. “For certain. This way, if you would,” she said, holding the cat with one arm as she led the way. She stopped in front of a plain looking door and opened it. Light from the hallway pierced the darkness of the room, letting Britt see stacks of wooden furniture.

  There were roughly cut benches, square tables, chests, wall hangings, and stools. There was not one circular or round table.

  Feeling the young woman’s eyes on her, Britt flashed another smile. “Perfect, we thank you for your assistance.”

  “It was my pleasure,” the girl said, stroking the cat and showing no signs of leaving.

  Britt glanced at Lancelot, who was frowning most uselessly.

  Britt was saved from trying to nudge the girl away when someone from the hallway called, “Eleanor, have you found Wyne?”

  The ladies maid, looking dismayed, curtseyed again. “I am sorry, but I must go.”

  “We thank you once more for your kindness and mercy,” Lancelot said.

  The girl darted from the room, her arms clamped around the cat. “I have. Will you tell My Lady…,” her voice faded as she hurried from hearing.

  “It’s not here. At least I don’t think it is,” Britt said, folding her arms across her chest.

  “The Round Table?”

  “Yes. Come on, let’s keep looking.”

  Britt and Lancelot talked to another maid, a minstrel, and a clerk before they found a squire who could show them where the Round Table was stored.

  “You say your father served King Uther?” the squire asked, holding a torch as they ventured down a dusty, abandoned hallway.

  “He did. He told me stories of King Uther’s legendary Round Table. When I heard it is under the custody of King Leodegrance I knew I would have to look upon it should I ever journey to Camelgrance,” Britt said, the lie coming easier since she had changed it and repeated it multiple times.

  “It don’t look like much. ‘Tis awkwardly big,” the squire warned before he opened a door and ventured inside.

  Britt and Lancelot followed the squire, staring in confusion at the room.

  “This is the Round Table?” Lancelot asked.

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t understand,” Britt said, her forehead wrinkling.

  The room was filled with chipped, curved tables. They were covered in dust, and reminded Britt of pieces of a toy train track.

  “They fit together. Like a ring, see?” the squire said.

  “How many does it seat?” Lancelot asked.

  “About 150 knights, I think. Depends how fat they are,” the squire said.

  “A hundred and fifty?” Britt said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t quite what I thought it would be.”

  “It’s why Ol’ King Leodegrance only drags it out for feasts. It’s perfect for those occasions when everyone is drunk and don’t look closely at the furniture, plus servants can get on the inside of the ring to serve everyone real easy,” the squire said.

  “Maybe Merlin is right. We should just build our own Round Table,” Britt muttered.

  “Oh, what a dream come true this is,” Lancelot said.

  Britt lowered her hand to see if the handsome knight had gone stark, raving mad.

  “To think that we’re seeing the Round Table. Such great things must have happened at this table, like your father’s stories, Art,” Lancelot said, turning to face Britt.

  Britt stared at the knight until the squire shifted, reminding Britt of her role. “Absolutely. It’s not how I imagined it, but to think that Uther Pendragon himself sat here. How noble.”

  The squire shrugged. “Glad you’re not disappointed,” he said. “That all you want to see?”

  “Indeed, thank you, young squire, for taking the time to show us this great piece of history,” Lancelot said, a glittering coin appearing in his fingers. He tossed it to the squire, who caught it with enthusiasm.

  “Right, no problem at all. You men need me to lead you out?” the squire asked.

  “If you wouldn’t mind taking us to the kitchens, we would much appreciate it. Thank you,” Britt said as she and Lancelot exited the room, the squire right behind them.

  The helpful squire took them to the kitchens where they easily joined the mass of servants and slipped out the supplies door.

  “That was a disappointment,” Britt said as she and Lancelot passed through the castle gates.

  “Camelgrance seems to be a very odd place,” Lancelot said.

  Feeling protective of her ally, even though she did not particularly like him, Britt asked, “Why do you say that?”

  “The females of that castle.”

  “What of them?”

  “They did not react to me how most ladies do.”

  Britt heaved her eyes to the heavens. “Of course your description of odd would contain preferences to yourself.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Lads, you’ve made it safe and sound.”

  Britt, recognizing that voice, craned her neck and spotted Merlin, Kay, Ywain and Gawain standing near a large hay bale.

  “As have you,” Britt said.

  “Did you see the Round Table as you wished to, My Lord?” Gawain asked.

  “We did,” Britt said.

  “How?” Ywain asked, stunned.

  “We entered Camelgrance and asked an assortment of servants until we found a squire who could take us to it,” Britt said.

  “Tis in a shamble and somewhat disgraceful,” Lancelot said, earning a look of irritation from Britt.

  “How did you get in the keep?” Merlin asked.

  “Through the kitchens,” Britt said. “Why?”

  “We could not even gain entrance to the keep, and thus were unable to see the table,” Gawain said.

  “Us as well,” Kay added.

  “Oh,” Britt said.

  “It is a good thing, then, that My Lord and I were paired together so we could see the table,” Lancelot said.

  “What did you think of it?” Merlin asked.

  “It’s not what I pictured. It’s much bigger than I thought it would be. The squire told us it can seat 150 knights,” Britt said.

  Merlin nodded. “That would be about right. Although more than 150 knights served Uther, not all of them were at his castle at once. You are surprised?”

  “Yes. Based on the stories I thought it would be much smaller, and that it would be one table. It is essentially many tables pieced together,” Britt said.

  “Well you’ve seen it. We can depar
t for Camelot and you can judge for yourself what price you’re willing to pay to get it. If you still want it,” Merlin said.

  “I apologize for the intrusion, but the light is dimming. We should return to King Pellinore and meet up with the main company before sunset,” Sir Kay said.

  “Kay is right. Let us set out, men,” Merlin said, leading the way away from Camelgrance.

  “Did you get to see King Leodegrance, My Lord?” Ywain asked, moving to walk at Britt’s side.

  “No. I mostly saw furniture and a multitude of tables. You?” Britt asked.

  Ywain nodded. “Sir Kay and I saw him return from a hunt early in the morning. He’s a regular player. An actor I mean.”

  “I agree with you, cousin, for Merlin and I saw him as well,” Gawain said, falling in line at Britt’s other side.

  “Oh?” Britt said. “What is it about him that reminds you of an actor?”

  “He’s not how he appears to be,” Ywain said. “He looks noble, like a king should, but he’s not.”

  “Agreed,” Gawain said. “It seems like he tries to imitate a man of high caliber, like King Pellinore, to cover his shortcomings.”

  “And what are his shortcomings?”

  “He was harsh to his mount, which isn’t often a sign of an even temper,” Gawain carefully said. “And he wore lavish clothes. Of course a king should dress well, but he wore an embroidered, red tunic to go hunting.”

  “His wife was… quiet,” Ywain added. “Mother always has an earful for my father whenever she sees him. Not so with King Leodegrance’s wife.”

  “I see,” Britt said. “Thank you for your insight.”

  “My pleasure, My Lord,” Ywain said.

  “Please do not take our words seriously. We know little of ruling, our only wish is to serve you, My Lord,” Gawain said.

  “Aye,” Ywain echoed.

  Britt smiled and slung her arms around their shoulders. “I am blessed and grateful to have you,” she said, getting grins from the cousins.

  “So are we, My Lord,” they said.

  “My Lord,” Sir Kay said.

  “Yes?” Britt asked, removing her arms from her young friends. She stopped and fell in line with Sir Kay, who was behind her.