The king smiled at him. He had obviously grown to like the boy, mostly because of his offer to take Will's penalty a few days earlier. “You wouldn't be able to do much with a suit of armor on,” he said jovially. “Those beasts are fast as lightning, so I want you young men to be very careful.”
“Reb here has offered to lead the hunt” Loren grinned at his father. “I think that's fine of him, don't you?”
The king gave him a sharp look and shook his head. “It's not wise to let an untried hunter go up against one of those tuskers. You know how vicious they are, my boy.”
Reb's pride was touched. “Don't worry, Your Majesty. I know how to handle pigs.”
As they moved on, the ladies of the court joined them. The queen had been brought in a sort of covered cot, carried by two stout men. The young ladies walked along beside the canopy and listened as she told them of hunts in days gone by.
Reb dropped back and found himself walking beside the Princess Elaine. She was only one year older than he and seemed to be a merry young lady.
“Tell me about Atlantis,” Elaine said. “It must have been frightening to go under the sea. I don't see how you could do it.”
Reb shoved his soft cap back on his head. It had a pointed eagle's feather in it, and he took it off to admire it. “Aw, shucks,” he said, “it wasn't so much, except when the big octopus pinned us down.”
Elaine's eyes grew large. “An octopus! What's an octopus?”
“Big critter, with eight arms. This one had a beak big enough to snap your leg off.” He launched into the tale of how the seven of them had been trapped in an underwater cavern by a huge squid. When Elaine looked at him with admiring eyes, he was forced to say, “Of course, it was Wash there that got us out.”
“The little fellow?” Elaine said in surprise. “He doesn't look as though he could do a thing like that.”
“Well, he says Goel was with him, and I guess that's what saved our bacon.”
“Saved your bacon?” Elaine asked in confusion. “What does bacon have to do with Atlantis?”
Elaine listened as Reb explained the figure of speech, then walked along without speaking for a time. She clearly admired the tall young man, and her eyes went back to him as she said, “Tell me about Goel. Have you ever met him?”
“Met him!” Reb looked at her in amazement. “Why of course I've met him.” He told her how they had come out of the sleep capsules and been directed by Goel ever since. “I guess we're kind of his helpers, you might say. This Sanhedrin's a bad bunch.” He wagged his head dolefully. “I understand they're trying to take over Camelot too.”
Elaine's lovely eyes clouded, and she smoothed her hair back. “Yes, things have been difficult lately. More and more of our people are being drawn, I think, into the power of the Dark Lord.”
She stepped even closer and put a hand lightly on his arm. When she looked up at him, her face was filled with apprehension, and she bit her full lower lip. “Do you think you and the others will be able to do something?”
Reb had always been a modest young man, but his experience at Camelot had not fostered this. Ever since they had left Atlantis, because he was an expert horseman and the travel had been on horseback, he had been more or less in a leadership position. And because he had become an expert jouster, tossing from their saddles some of the best knights, men who were far more experienced, this had given him a rather cocky air.
Now he did what he would never have done earlier. He waved his hand in the air and said, “Why, don't you fret none about it, Miss Elaine! I'll see to it that nothing happens to you or your family!”
Elaine blinked—and he noticed how long and thick her lashes were and how smooth her skin.
“Oh, that's so good to hear,” she said as she squeezed his arm. “I'm so glad you came.”
* * *
Reb enjoyed his talk with the princess, totally unaware of how boastful he had become.
Josh noticed, however, and whispered to Dave, “I think Reb's getting sort of a big head. I'm a little bit worried about him. One thing we don't need on this trip is a big fat ego to keep up with.”
Dave agreed. “You're right, Josh. And I don't like this wild tusker business either. These wild pigs aren't anything to fool with.”
Abigail had been listening in, and she sniffed. “You two are just jealous because Reb isn't afraid of anything.”
Josh gave her a disgusted look. “It's good sense to be afraid of some things.”
They moved on without saying more about Reb's problem.
Soon one of the scouts came running back, his face red with excitement. “Your Majesty,” he said, “there's a huge tusker over there in that clump of trees!”
The king looked at Prince Loren. “All right, my boy, suppose you show your father what a fine hunter you are.”
“I'll do my best, Sire.” He gestured to several of the servants, who came forward bearing a sheaf of spears. Plucking one out, he motioned the guests forward. “This is what we use to hunt the wild boar. You four each take one, and you ladies can watch the fight.”
Reb took a smooth, wooden-shafted spear. He touched the pointed blade on the end. “This thing is sharp as a razor. My Uncle Seedy, the barber, could shave with one of these things!” Then he looked at the extended blades on the side. These stuck out at right angles and were rather dull. “What are these things for?”
Loren held up his spear. “What you have to do is get this point into the boar.” His eyes shone, and his lips turned up in a grin. “But I'm telling you, these boars are tough. They'll run right up the spear and gore you to death before you can blink.”
“That doesn't sound like too much fun,” Dave muttered. “But what are these side pieces for?”
“Here's what you must do,” Loren said, demonstrating. “Shove the butt end of it into the earth. Nobody's strong enough to keep a three-hundred-pound boar at bay, so when he comes at you, let him run himself right onto this pointed blade. It'll go in up to the hilt, all the way up to these side blades, and that's what will hold him there.”
Reb examined the spear and swallowed hard. Boar hunting began to seem more difficult to him. “Well,” he said, “what happens then?”
Loren patted his spear, “You either stop him, or he pushes you back and gets you. Usually there's no third alternative.”
Reb felt the eyes of the others on him and wished he had not been quite so bold, but it was too late now. “All right,” he said, “I think I'm ready.”
Loren began to deploy them. “Fan out,” he said. “We don't know exactly where he'll charge from. You ladies stay back with the king and queen.”
The hunters spread out in a long line and began to watch the forest nervously.
As Reb looked over his shoulder he saw that the king and queen, as well as the young ladies, were following rather closely. “Don't they need to stay back?” he asked Loren.
The prince grinned broadly. “Not as long as a stout fellow like you is in front to keep the boar off them,” he jibed. Then he suddenly shouted, “Look! There he comes!”
Reb turned toward the most enormous pig he had ever seen. It came tearing out of the woods, running at full speed, and its eyes were red with fury. It was only a few feet to Reb's left, so he began to move in that direction. “I've got him,” he yelled.
“Be careful!” Loren shouted. “Don't let him get through!” But he had no sooner yelled than the pig shifted direction and chatted straight at one of the knights.
The knight was slow, and, even as the group watched in horror, the pig struck him. The boar's head flew up, and he ripped the man's leg from ankle to thigh. The mans creamed. The pig next caught the man in the side. Then, apparently, he noticed the movement of the king and queen as they tried to retreat.
“Watch out! He's going for the king!” Sir Gwin shouted. “Watch him! Get him!”
Reb saw that Loren, who was on his right, and Dave, who was on his left, were too far away. The pig was going to pass very c
lose to Reb himself.
“Got to stop that sucker!” he mumbled. He stepped quickly into the pig's path. He could see the white froth on the boar's lips, and the yellowed tusks looked ten inches long. He vaguely heard people screaming, and someone cried, “Look, the king has fallen!”
Whipping a glance behind him, Reb saw the king sprawled on the ground and the queen trying to help him to his feet. They'll never make it, Reb thought. It's up to me!
It seemed as though time stopped, but he remembered one thing Loren had said. Put the butt of the spear in the dirt—let the boar run onto it.
He dug the hilt into the hard ground with both hands held firmly, and then the mighty boar was upon him! Its red eyes flashed with rage. Its mouth was open so wide he could count the teeth. Its bristles stood out as though electrified. And then the boar struck the end of his spear.
Though it took all his might, Reb held on. But the shock drove him backward, and the spear came loose from the earth. Now he had only his strength to hold off the pig. He felt like a pygmy as the boar roared toward him, snorting angrily.
“Got to hold him,” Reb panted.
Then the boar threw itself to one side, and the spear in Reb's hands twisted mightily, sprawling him in the dust. He held on, breathing a quick cry for help. O Goel, don't let that pig get at the king!
It was a close thing. The spear had penetrated the boar's chest. He was wounded. But he still had plenty of fight left in him.
Then, with a surge of strength Reb had not known he had, he got to his feet and wrenched the spear loose.
He heard a cry of fear from the women and a shout of warning from Loren. “Don't let him off!” The prince's voice seemed far away, but Reb knew what he had to do.
“Got to get him right in the throat.” He drew the spear back and, as the boar launched himself again, took aim. And the razor-sharp blade found its target. Reb was thrown to one side, and he felt the rip of a mighty tusk along one forearm as the spear fell from his hands.
He's got me—I'm a goner! he thought wildly. The boar's heavy weight fell on him, and he gave up all hope.
Then the weight was being lifted, and through the mist he heard Josh saying, “You all right, Reb?”
Reb sat up and wiped the blood from his face. “He must have torn my head off,” he said dazedly.
“That's not your blood,” Loren said, awe on his face. “That's the boar's blood.”
By this time, King Dion was there with the queen. “How is he?” the king asked anxiously.
“I'm all right, I reckon,” Reb said thickly. But then pain stabbed his arm, and he held it up. “I did get nicked a little here.”
Princess Elaine knelt beside him. “We've got to tie that up. He's bleeding badly.”
Reb sat looking at the huge pig, then began to enjoy the attention as Elaine tore one of her underskirts free and began to wrap his arm Soon the bleeding was stopped.
She looked up and said, “Now, that's better.”
King Dion came to stand by the young man. “My boy,” he said, “you have saved the lives of the king, the queen, and the royal princess!” He looked at Sir Gwin. “Let me have your sword.”
The knight handed it to him, and the king said, “Kneel, Reb Jackson.”
Without understanding what was happening, Reb struggled to his knees. He felt the touch of the sword on his shoulder, and he heard the king say, “Arise, Sir Reb!”
8
A Message from the Dark Lord
Elmas, the Chief Interrogator of the Sanhedrin, feared few people. He was so accustomed to having his word obeyed and to seeing fear come into the eyes of his servants that it always came as a shock whenever he himself felt fear. And that terrible fear came whenever the Dark Lord summoned him.
Now, arrayed in his crimson robe, a gold chain around his neck, a medallion bearing a strange device bumping against his chest, he entered the chamber of the Dark Lord. He found that his breath was coming faster and that his stomach began to tighten. When he was inside, he fell on his knees before the powerful being that sat in the darkness of a throne.
“I am come, my Lord.”
The Dark Lord gave him one swift look, and his lips curled. His eyes were fathomless depths of evil. There was, indeed, an aura of evil that hung like a cloud about this powerful commander of an empire.
“You have failed me again, Elmas,” the Dark Lord said, his voice ringing like a hollow bell in the chamber. “If you cannot fulfill your functions, I have others who can.”
Elmas began to tremble. He cupped his hands together and raised them. “Oh, my lord, do not speak so. You must know that I have always obeyed your commands.”
“Obedience is not enough,” the Dark Lord snapped. He rose from his throne, tall, dark, somber, wearing a black robe with a hood that shielded most of his features. Only the red gleam of his eyes and the cruel lips were visible. “I have commissioned you twice for a mission concerning these accursed Sleepers. Both times you have failed me.”
“It was not my fault.” Elmas's teeth chattered. “Goel aided them—”
“Goel! You know I have forbidden anyone to utter that name!” The Dark Lord moved close, reached down, and caught the quaking priest by the throat. He jerked him up, almost spitting out the name. “‘Goel. The house of Goel will be filled.’” He shook Elmas as a terrier shakes a rat. “Next you will be joining this uprising that is trying to bring Goel and his pitiful servants to rule in Nuworld.” He glanced callously at the swollen face of Elmas, then shoved him away.
Elmas fell backward, clawing at his throat. The sucking in of his breath made a painful noise. Nevertheless, he scrambled to his feet and held up his hands again. “I will not fail you this time, Sire.”
“Very well,” the Dark Lord said in a deadly voice, “You have one more opportunity. See that you do not fail. What is the situation?”
“I will send a messenger at once,” Elmas said quickly. He was breathing a little easier now. “We have one of ours in Camelot. He is a clever and ruthless man. I will at once alert him to the danger of the Sleepers.”
“Get out. See that it is done.”
The Dark Lord watched the priest scramble out of the chamber. “Fool,” he said. He struck the wall with his fist, and it seemed that the rocks trembled with his power. “Always these Sleepers! Always Goel!” He clenched his fist again, and the evil in his face grew more pronounced. “I will pull the flesh off their bones, all of them! They will not take my kingdom!”
* * *
“Sire, a messenger has just arrived.” The servant who had come to the chamber of Lord Melchior watched apprehensively. One never knew how Melchior would take things. “He says that it is urgent.”
Melchior gave the servant a sour glance. “Who is he? What is his name?”
“He will not give his name—but he says he comes from Elmas, of the Sanhedrin.”
Melchior glanced up, his eyes flickering with interest. “Sanhedrin, eh? Well, show him in.”
When the servant had left, Melchior reached out and poured a stream of red wine into a silver flagon. He lifted it to his lips, sipped, and murmured to himself, “So. The Sanhedrin now is sending messages. I know Elmas. He'll use me if he can—but two can play at that game!”
The door swung open, and a small man dressed in a green cloak, shabby and worn, entered. A hood covered his head, and he bowed slightly. “Sir Melchior, I have a message from Elmas, my master.”
“Well, what is the message? Give it to me.”
“It is not written down, Sire. Such things would be too dangerous.” The messenger threw his cloak back, and Melchior blinked at the features of the man who stood before him. He was an albino—his eyebrows and hair were colorless and even his eyes a milky white. “My master commands me to tell you that it is urgent that you capture those who have come to Camelot.”
“‘Those who have come’?” Melchior questioned. “Many people have come to Camelot.”
A sullen expression came into the messeng
er's face. “Not like these. They are the most dangerous opponents of our kingdom.”
“I have heard of no newcomers of such importance. Surely I would have heard if such emissaries had come.”
“Not necessarily Sir Melchior.” The messenger shook his head. “These are very deceitful messengers. They are all very young, none over fifteen.”
“Children!” Melchior snorted in amazement. “I am to capture children? Has it come to that?”
“Do not take the matter so lightly! These are the servants of Goel. Their power we can only guess at, but they have escaped traps and have foiled the intentions and plans of the Dark Lord. It is he, my master says, who commands that the Seven Sleepers be captured or killed.”
Melchior stared at him, then said, “Sit down. I'll have food brought.”
When the messenger had seated himself, Melchior poured a flagon of wine and shoved it before him. As the man drank thirstily, Melchior said, “Now, tell me all you know about the ‘Seven Sleepers.’”
* * *
The entire castle of Camelot was decorated with banners of red and blue and yellow—the colors of King Dion. The smell of roasted meat and fresh bread was in the air in front of the jousting field. The stands were filled with the nobility of the kingdom. Out on the far side of the field the groundlings watched as knights practiced their swordplay, fencing with one another while the grooms kept the horses ready for the activities.
“This will be your first tournament,” Elaine said to Reb. Her smile was sweet and gentle. “I hope it will not be your last.”
Reb shot her a surprised look. “You mean I might get kilt?”
A worried look crossed the princess's face. “It's not unknown. These tournaments are very dangerous. Some think they shouldn't even be held.” She shook her head. “I am worried about you, Reb.”
His pride touched, Reb said, “Why, shoot, don't worry about me, Miss Elaine! I'll be all right.”
The princess looked on him fondly. “I'll hope for that.” She gazed across the field. “Look, the knights are getting ready for the melee.”
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