Felix Jones and The Honour of The Keeper (Felix Jones Adventures Book 2)

by Julian Roderick

  Felix looked at the map. Fourteen red swords were spreading in every direction from Camelot.

  “Thank you,” said Arthur.

  The King escorted them to the gate of the fort. When Felix reached the wood he turned to wave. Arthur was standing waving his Keeper’s sword.

  “Four hundred metres and he gets his sword and book back,” laughed Tom.

  Felix flicked open his book. Page two was gone!

  32

  “Back home” yawned Merlin.

  “Yes please!” sighed Tom. “I could do with a comfy bed.”

  “My home!” smiled Merlin.

  In a flash they were in the same wood they had come from. The shack Merlin called home was a little more rickety and the fort had been extended upwards into the imposing sight they remembered. They made their way towards Camelot. Inside the castle they made their way to the viewing gallery above the main hall. The Wizard went in through the main entrance and approached Arthur.

  “Lancelot is dead!” Arthur shouted. “His right hand man Kai will soon join him in hell. That will teach that scheming rat to take my wife and turn traitor against me with the Brethren. They didn’t run away - they wanted the kingdom for themselves and the Brethren.” Arthur looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “You have righted a personal wrong!” Merlin looked sympathetic.

  “That’s what’s bothering me,” said the King.

  “I must be the shining light to whom my subjects look for their moral code,” sighed Arthur. “I have done wrong by the Book.”

  “You can put things right,” offered Merlin. “You have ruled fairly and well, the kingdom is still as one thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to the Book,” laughed Arthur.

  Merlin waved to Felix up on the gallery. “Remember these three?” He asked Arthur.

  “My life was in their hands, how would I forget my saviours?” Arthur felt for his sword but all he felt was the scabbard. Felix led Poppy and Tom down to the hall. Arthur hugged them all.

  “We have fought many battles since we last met and yet you look the same,” he chuckled. “I have become older but not much wiser.”

  One of Arthur’s bodyguards rushed in. Out of breath he announced that the Brethren had been sighted at Camluan.

  “Mordred’s land!” Arthur looked worried at the news. Camluan was his son’s kingdom, he had always doubted Mordred’s loyalty. Arthur called his men to arms. In less than half an hour Arthur headed a column of men marching out of the gate. He sat astride a huge white horse. Felix, Tom and Poppy walked with Merlin at the rear of the army. Arthur had sent messengers to the chiefs to join him in battle. They all hoped the other armies would arrive in time.

  It took a day and a half to reach Mordred’s fort. The column struck camp in a wood in the next valley. The men sat round fires and tucked in to deer and hogs that had been hunted on the journey. Galahad arrived with his men during the night to swell their numbers. It was an unexpected quiet night, allowing the army to rest.

  “I like wars at this time,” whispered Tom. “No sneaky attacks at night. Just line up when arranged and charge!”

  “Gruesome though,” said Poppy. “You know loads of people will die.”

  “We’ll see tomorrow. Now shut up and sleep!” barked Felix.

  Nobody slept much that night. The impending carnage of the battlefield was on everybody’s mind. In the morning, Felix washed in the stream trickling down the slope through the wood to the river.

  Felix knew that he had to stay on the ridge and watch, otherwise Arthur would be defenceless. Poppy and Tom joined the warriors for battle as they were Guardians and had to protect the Keeper and The Book of Words. Arthur led the army over the ridge and onto the battlefield. In the background stood Mordred’s small fort. Felix thought something looked wrong but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

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  Arthur sat on his white steed at the head of his army. “Brethren monks, come and meet your maker.” The cheer behind him said he was on the right track. His men were ready for action. “Show your faces and fight like true warriors!” Another cheer rose from his ranks. There was no sign of the Brethren. Opposite Arthur’s army stood men like his.

  “Why do you fight with those monsters?” he asked the awaiting foes.

  “There’s no river, there’s no Brethren!” shouted Felix. “Get out of there! It’s a trap!” Nobody could hear him above the roars of the troops.

  “They fight for me father,” came the reply from Mordred. He was standing inside his fort behind the battlements.

  “I have no fight with you my son.” Arthur ordered his army to move back up the side of the valley to the woods. As he turned he heard a whoosh. An arrow pierced Arthur’s chainmail and drilled its way into his back. He fell heavily from the horse. Galahad had witnessed the treachery and ordered the army to turn and charge. Mordred mirrored his actions.

  The thud of warriors running at full speed hitting each other echoed down the valley. Men from both sides fell in rivers of blood. The Guardians had surrounded King Arthur; Poppy and Tom were poised to tackle any attacker. To their amazement the King stood up, pulled the arrow out and screamed in anger. The bodyguards had never seen him this irate. He threw off his chainmail and walked purposefully towards the fort gate. Arthur’s manservant picked it up and followed as quickly as he could. The fighting men parted as Arthur waded through them. He was their enemy but he was still the King.

  Mordred was waiting at the gate his sword drawn. He still stood behind a protective line of soldiers. A look of panic came to his face as he saw that Arthur was showing no ill effects of the arrow shot.

  “You have me shot in the back and then you hide from me!” boomed Arthur. “You are no son of mine! Come and fight me like a real man.”

  Mordred’s bodyguards parted and their trembling chief stepped forward. “Kai made me do it!” he protested to his father.

  “Rubbish!” shouted Arthur. “That snivelling pig couldn’t think of this deception.”

  “It was Lancelot then.” Mordred’s quivering voice gave away his fear.

  “I killed that rat two days ago.” Arthur held his sword in his hand ready to strike. Mordred fell to his knees with the power of Arthur’s first blow. The whole of the battle field was silent. Everyone was watching the spectacle between the King and his son. They all knew whoever won would take the victory.

  Arthur allowed Mordred back to his feet. The King had lost his mind, the red mist had descended. Arthur was attacking without thinking and making basic fencing mistakes. The first Keeper was invincible. Mordred was retreating with every swing of Arthur’s sword. He was trapped against the fort gate with a sword sweeping in from what seemed like every direction. A big rock fell from the ramparts and knocked Arthur down. Kai stood on the ramparts wearing a huge smile. As Arthur stumbled backwards Mordred pounced. His sabre was thrust into the King’s stomach.

  Arthur knew something was wrong. He felt the pain and could not get up. Since receiving the Keeper’s sword his wounds had healed and he felt very little pain. Galahad sensed Arthur was in trouble and leapt forward. Poppy, Tom and the other Guardians joined him. Mordred ran back into his fort fearing for his life. Poppy propped Arthur up against the fort wall. He visibly aged in seconds. Arthur reached into his trousers and pulled out The Book of Words. His name had disappeared from the cover. He smiled. Arthur knew the end was coming. The cover of the Book revealed the name of the second Keeper.

  The cover now read:

  The Book of Words

  Keeper

  Cadwallader

  Arthur called forward his manservant. “Cadwallader, you have been named as the Keeper of The Book of Words.”

  Overawed, Cadwallader stepped forward to take the Book. “Sire, what do I do?”

  “Keep it safe and do not make the mistakes I have. The rest you will figure out for yourself.” Arthur handed the surprised young boy the Keeper’s sword. Bedivere, one of Arth
ur’s most trusted chiefs, stepped forward with the scabbard for the sword. Arthur snatched it from Cadwallader’s hand and beckoned Bedivere to come closer. The Guardians listened intently to Arthur. “The scabbard must be returned to the lake!”

  “Why?” Bedivere was concerned that Cadwallader was not a trained warrior and needed the protection of the scabbard that gave The Keeper invincibility.

  “The Keeper must have honour!” Arthur was fading fast. “If the Keeper feels invincible he will make the wrong decisions and act for himself. He must think of the Book and the future. There must be honour in the Keeper’s actions.”

  Bedivere nodded with understanding. Arthur held Cadwallader’s hand. “You have a big responsibility. Learn from those around you. Follow the rules of the Book. I used the power of the Keeper for myself. You must be stronger.”

  “Yes, sire,” whimpered The Keeper. Everyone knew the end was coming.

  With his last breath Arthur boomed, “Honour in everything!”

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  The King was hoisted onto the Guardians’ shields and carried through the kneeling armies towards Felix and the camp. Tears welled in everyone’s eyes as the great leader who had unified Britain led the procession.

  The gates of the fort opened. Mordred rode out on a large black charger. He was flanked by his bodyguards. “Stop, in the name of the King!” The roar from his men stopped Arthur’s column in their tracks. Felix, watching events from the ridge, flicked through his Book for answers. He was horrified at the information he read. Felix grabbed his sword and rushed down the hillside through the returning soldiers towards the Guardians. Galahad called his men to arms. Wearily they turned. Mordred’s horsemen rode through the army throwing out gold coins. “King Mordred wants to share the kingdom’s wealth with every one of his subjects.”

  The soldiers forgot Galahad’s orders in an instant and scrambled for the coins. Mordred took the crown from Arthur’s body and rummaged through his clothes. “Where is The Book of Words?”

  Felix was out of breath when he slid on his backside towards Cadwallader. “Don’t give it up!” he whispered. Cadwallader didn’t have a clue what was going on. He had his hand on the sword one second and now it was gone. Bedivere was slowly making his way through the scavenging men in order to fulfil Arthur’s wishes. Mordred caught a glimpse of the Keeper’s sword in Felix’s trousers. He lunged to snatch it. Felix took out the Book. Cadwallader did the same and held his above his head. Mordred was visibly confused, two Books - which was the real one? He had seen Cadwallader take the Book from Arthur. Before the Guardians could react he rode past Cadwallader, grabbing the Book. He returned as fast as his horse could carry him to the safety of the fort.

  Galahad and the Guardians looked distraught. They’d had their first chance to protect the Book and Cadwallader and they had failed. Felix didn’t look as worried. “It’ll be alright! Only the Keeper can read The Book of Words. Mordred has a blank old book.”

  “Arthur told me to look after it with honour!” Cadwallader was close to tears.

  “We’ll get it back,” declared Felix. “Let’s wait until Mordred comes back to us.” Felix knew what would happen when Mordred opened the Book. “Let’s get back to Camelot and give Arthur his send off.”

  The Guardians hoisted Arthur above their heads and walked off over the ridge.

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  Felix, Tom, Poppy and Cadwallader followed the procession on the journey to Camelot. The new Keeper was fourteen and very nervous at the thought of following Arthur. Not a word was spoken as they trudged through the beautiful countryside. As they passed through villages Arthur’s subjects came out to pay their respects to the great leader. They finally arrived as the sun was dipping behind the hills. The sunset was magnificent, every colour of red and orange shone across the sky. Arthur was quietly laid in state on the round table.

  Merlin guided Cadwallader to his home where Felix and Poppy prepared a meal of meat, cheese and bread. Tom collected firewood and water sufficient to last them the night.

  “It’s time for you to learn what being the Keeper means,” said Felix.

  Cadwallader hadn’t spoken a word since the battle and was still in shock. He slowly began to pay attention as Felix and Merlin explained all they knew.

  “This is too much! I’ll figure it out as I go along,” shouted Cadwallader. The others laughed on hearing the age old Keeper’s saying.

  “A good night’s sleep is needed,” stated Merlin in his comforting fashion. They all found blankets and curled up in front of the fire wherever there was space. Before long all that could be heard was snoring.

  The following morning King Arthur’s body was placed on a boat decorated with flowers and taken by river to the Isle of Avalon where the druids would lay him in his final resting place. Galahad and the other Guardians sat in conference at the round table. “We need to stop the Brethren from coming!” he declared. “We can’t!”, “Their magic is stronger than our weapons.”, “They are evil beasts who will stop at nothing to get the Book.” were the replies from the worried and tired chiefs around the table.

  “You need to go your separate ways and let the Guardians here deal with any attacks,” stated Felix. “If you stay together they know the Keeper is close and they will not stop coming until they are not sure where the Keeper is.”

  After Galahad had consulted Felix, it was decided that the chiefs would return to their lands and stay there even if the Keeper was in danger. They wanted to split the Guardians for two reasons, firstly to make it harder for the Brethren to locate the Keeper and secondly so that the Guardians were not all in danger at the same time.

  Galahad knew that from that moment on any battle would be against all odds. He had what was left of his army, Arthur’s loyal men, Felix, Tom and Poppy. He sent lookouts in every direction to warn of Mordred’s expected advance. They knew once Mordred found he couldn’t read the Book he would come for the new Keeper.

  “It will be alright,” insisted Felix over and over again. “None of them can read The Book of Words. They can’t use it without the Keeper. If Cadwallader stays close to me he won’t be able to read it either.”

  “What are we going to do? Tie you together!” Tom knew Felix was right but couldn’t help worrying that they would all be split up in the heat of the impending battle.

  “Felix and Cadwallader must stay here,” demanded Poppy. “We have to try and push them back up the valley.”

  Felix agreed that would be the sensible thing to do. “But who is going to deal with the Brethren if I’m not there?”

  Poppy thought for a moment then announced confidently, “We’ll drive them into the river again!”

  They were just about to sit down to lunch when the cry came.

  “Sire!” Everyone treated Galahad as the new leader of this army. “Mordred is approaching. He is making camp at the river.”

  Felix led them all to the window in the gallery. They could see the meadow between Camelot and the river. “It didn’t take them long to get cheesed off about not being able to read the Book.”

  The villagers poured into the fort throughout the afternoon to be protected from the attacking force. As darkness fell all they could see were the flickering fires spread in every direction near the river. They knew Mordred would not attack until the morning, it would be too risky. Galahad ordered the men and anyone who could carry a weapon to prepare for the battle.

  As dawn broke Felix stood on the battlements alongside Cadwallader. They surveyed the formations of soldiers lined up against them. Their army looked miniscule in comparison as it stood near Camelot’s gate. Tom and Poppy had donned some chainmail and were at the head of Galahad’s forces. Mordred and his sidekick Kai rode out to the centre of the battlefield. Galahad, Tom and Poppy went to meet them. This ancient tradition of leaders having a chat before fighting amused Felix.

  “Bring me the Keeper,” ordered Mordred.

  “Never, we will all die before we give him to you,” came the de
fiant reply from Galahad.

  Mordred laughed as he declared, “One last chance, give him up and you will all be spared - otherwise I will summon my allies.”

  Tom had a feeling he meant the Brethren. “We’ve beaten them before and we’ll do it again.” His voice quivered as he questioned whether they could defeat the monsters again.

  “So be it!” Mordred turned and sauntered back to his camp.

  Felix could see Mordred and Kai next to the river with their Guardian’s sabres. They held them up in the air and rubbed them against each other. Sparks flew into the river. In seconds Brethren monks filed out of the water. Felix knew that there would be four for each Guardian and Keeper. He quickly calculated that he would have to deal with forty monks if he counted Mordred and Kai. He warned Cadwallader that if they had to go out, he had to stay near Felix or he could be captured and forced to read the Book for the Brethren and allow them to use the powers for whatever they intended.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not letting you out of my sight!” came the croaky reply.

  Mordred returned to the head of his army and ordered them to make way for the creatures from the river. Galahad looked sideways at Tom and Poppy and then up to the ramparts, Felix and Cadwallader had gone. Galahad had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before Felix would be by his side. The monks edged closer and closer to the defending soldiers. Tom looked at Poppy and shrugged. They knew from experience that if they could split the Brethren they would stand a better chance of victory.