Knight Rising

by Jason Hamilton

  Arthur moved to obey, but his head swiveled as if looking for someone else in the chamber. “Is she here?” he said after a moment.

  “Who?”

  “Duessa,” he said. “I killed the giant but Duessa left. I assumed she came here to defend her prize. I see you took out the jailor.”

  “He wasn’t exactly the jailor,” she said, following Arthur’s gaze to the unconscious Archimago. “I’ve met him before. He’s a magician.”

  “I should have found Merlin and brought him with me,” said Arthur. “Between this man and Duessa, we could have used some magic.”

  “Right,” said Una, hiding the look of worry on her face.

  “How did you beat him?”

  “I…” how was she going to explain it without mentioning her magic? “I must have gotten lucky I guess. I snuck up and surprised him.” She looked at George as she said it, wondering if he would give her lie away. But he did not seem to be listening.

  “I see,” said Arthur, sparing another glance for the man. “Well, anyway, allow me to help.”

  He moved forward and raised George’s other arm above his neck and shoulders. “Let’s go, kind sir.”

  George did not respond but put all of his effort into aiding that of Una and Arthur. Together, the three of them managed to make it down the stairs. Una paused only to lock up Archimago in the same chains that had once held George. Best not to have him attack them from behind. Besides, she enjoyed a little poetic justice.

  When they finally reached the base of the tower, Arthur let go long enough to check outside the door. “The courtyard is completely deserted,” he said, though he didn’t look happy about it. “I wish I knew where Duessa had gone.”

  “We can deal with her when and if she shows,” said Una. “Let’s just focus on getting George out for now.”

  Arthur didn’t look very convinced, but he went back to hoisting George’s arm on his shoulders and they moved out of the tower.

  “You’re both in danger,” said George as they went. “You shouldn’t have come for me.”

  “And you’re not thinking straight,” Una replied. Honestly, she didn’t have time for such talk. Her attention was split between trying to carry his heavy body and searching the courtyard and gate for any signs of enemies. There were none. Arthur was right to be worried.

  George said nothing for a while, other than a soft groan now and then. But as they approached the gate, he finally said something else.

  “Thank you.”

  Una could tell he meant it. He had likely resigned himself to his imprisoned, tortured state before today. There had been nothing he could do about it. But now she and Arthur had come to rescue him. She couldn’t imagine how he was feeling right now. Yes, she’d been imprisoned before, but never tortured.

  “You’re welcome,” she said in reply, and the three of them proceeded out of the City of Pride.

  Duessa watched them go from her vantage point atop the battlements. This was an interesting development. She had perhaps underestimated Gloriana, sending the man who would be king to rescue a single, lowly knight. Perhaps he wasn’t so lowly after all.

  What she truly regretted was sending away her minions, including the seven deadly sins so early. Had they been here, the rescue would have had no chance. But there was no way of knowing that for sure. Perhaps Gloriana would have simply waited until the city was nearly empty, whether that was today or months from now.

  She could probably best the young Arthur Pendragon, though he had proven himself far stronger than she expected, slaying her giant, her strongest warrior in single combat.

  But what really interested her was the girl. She’d seen her before, traveling alongside the Red Cross knight, but she’d thought her no more than a surviving citizen of Castle Silene, accompanying the knight as a guide at Gloriana’s request. No, there was a lot more to this girl than met the eye. A lot more.

  She watched as the three travelers disappeared into the tree line, heading back towards the main road that led through the forest. She would have time to deal with them later. Now was the time to turn her attention to more disappointing matters.

  Duessa walked along the battlements until she came to the tallest of the city’s seven towers. Entering, she climbed the stairs until she reached the very top.

  The door was knocked off its hinges, leaning against the stone. Judging by some of the chips of stone where the door had impacted, it must have come away from its holding with some force. Interesting.

  Inside stood Archimago, one hand fastened to a chain that had previously held the prisoner.

  He paled upon seeing her, as he should. “My lady, please forgive me, they came upon me unawares.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” she said, imbuing her voice with ice. “You would have seen the girl come through here. Your failure is your own folly.”

  He swallowed. “I will make it up to you my lady. I won’t let you down a second time.”

  She drew closer, climbing down the steps until she was level with him. She said nothing as she approached, choosing instead to let his stomach churn with worry. He deserved it. Failure like this could not be tolerated. And yet…

  “You are lucky I still have need of every last servant, be they incompetent or not. But should you fail again, when the doors of Annwyn finally burst into this world, you will not have a place in it. Is that understood?”

  “Y-yes, mistress,” he said, his golden eyes subdued. “I will not fail you. I will find that girl and kill her for you.”

  “No,” she said, sharply.

  He met her eyes, confused. “My lady?”

  “You are to go nowhere near the girl,” said Duessa. “I have taken a personal interest in her and will be monitoring her progress myself.”

  “Of course, my lady. Then I will go after the other.”

  “You would not stand a chance against Pendragon,” she said with a laugh. “And the Red Cross knight is out of our hands for now. He is ultimately less important. It’s the girl who poses the real threat, or perhaps the greatest possibility.”

  “How may I serve you, my lady?” He stepped forward, eagerly, though still restrained in one arm.

  She took a few sultry steps toward him, accenting the sway of her hips as she drew closer. Reaching one hand to his face, she cradled it, smiling as she did so. The reaction he gave was so pathetic it was almost nauseating. Tears streamed down his cheeks as she brought her face close, close enough to kiss.

  “For now,” she whispered. “You will remain right here.” With that, she retreated. The look of shock and surprise on his face was enough to make her smile widen. She proceeded up the steps, out the door, and away, all while his feeble protests followed her.

  Let him wallow in chains for a few days to help him learn his lesson. He would stay there until he begged to be released. Then maybe she would let him out. Maybe. If there was still a good use left for him. There were, of course, other knights out there to foil. Archimago could yet play a part in her plans.

  28

  Una and Arthur carried George as far as they could, till they were at least under the cover of the trees once more, and away from the unsettling gray fog that surrounded the City of Pride. George had lost some weight since his capture, but he was not a small man. Both Una and Arthur had to take frequent breaks. Despite that, Una was rather pleased with herself. She managed to keep up with Arthur most of the time.

  Finally, they reached the cave where Una and Arthur had first met. It was there they stopped for the night. Una’s shoulders ached, and her knees felt like they had been forcibly compressed down into her thighs, but she was still alive. They were all still alive, and that was more than a little encouraging.

  Unfortunately, George was not doing any better. The marks on his back were still red, even after they had cleaned him. If anything, they looked even worse now. George didn’t speak much either, other than the occasional groan or mumble.

  “I fear he has an infection,” said Arthu
r as he set to work building a fire. “If we can’t bring it under control, he could still die.”

  A small part of Una withered. “But he’ll be okay, won’t he? The Faerie Queen wouldn’t have sent us to get him only to have him die.”

  Arthur shook his head. “Gloriana isn’t exactly all-knowing. She is mortal like you or me, though her age stretches back many centuries, even before Merlin was alive. And believe me, that’s a very long time.”

  “I’ve heard of this Merlin before,” said Una, leaning back against the cave wall, glad for a change that someone else got to build the fire. “Tell me about him.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” said Arthur. “And I’m not sure what is and isn’t true. He’s supposed to have been around for generations, helping my father before I was born. Even helping King Vortigern before that. He placed the sword in the stone after my birth, and took me to Sir Ector. I’ve seen him off and on since then, even before I knew my parentage.”

  “And he’s some kind of magician?”

  Arthur shrugged. “I suppose so, though not all of his magic is...well magic.”

  “If magic isn’t magic then what is it?” Una leaned forward. She could stand to learn all she could about magic right now.

  “Merlin calls it technology.” Arthur went on, “He won’t say where he got it. But it allows him to do things many would call magic. Like create illusions or fire out of nothing.”

  Now that the fire was hot, Una helped position George so he was closer. The knight still had no clothes, which they would eventually have to mitigate, but for now Arthur let him have his cloak, which he clutched around himself by the fire.

  “So it’s not magic then?”

  “Oh no, he does magic too. He has many resources at his disposal. Every time I think I’ve figured him out, I find out something new.”

  George didn’t appear to be listening to their conversation. Instead he shivered by the flames, as if taken by a dreadful chill.

  “I don’t like this,” she said out loud, watching George as he drew the cloak in tighter. “How can we be expected to take him back to the Faerie Queen like this. She’s hours and hours away.” “I wouldn’t go to the Faerie Queen,” said Arthur offhandedly. “We’re actually not far from the northern edge of the forest. There’s an inn there with people that might be able to help.” “We’re near the northern border?” Una asked, leaning forward. “That’s where Castle Silene is.”

  “Nearly, Castle Silene is east of the main road, this town is just west. Well it’s not much of a town, really. It has a small church, the inn, and a handful of inhabitants. The rest left after the dragon took up residence in Castle Silene, but seeing as the castle only comes around once a year, some are content enough to live nearby, as long as they don’t bother the beast.”

  “We…” Una turned her head as George spoke for the first time since leaving Duessa’s castle. “We need to get there.”

  That was enough for Una. “Alright, we’re going there.” She had already made up her mind anyway. Any place that close to Castle Silene was in the direction she wanted to go.

  “We’ll rest tonight,” confirmed Arthur. “And I’ll lead you there tomorrow.”

  George rested his head on the ground, the light of the fire flickering madly across his face. He did not look at all happy, even with the promise of rest, which he sorely needed.

  “Will you be alright, George?” Arthur asked.

  “I...I don’t know,” said the Red Cross knight. “Everything is cold and hot at the same time. And…” he trailed off. Was that a tear running down the side of his face? “I’m sorry I failed you. Una, I’m sorry…” he began breaking into huge sobs.

  For once, Una was speechless. She had never seen the knight so emotional before. Arthur merely pressed his lips together and glanced at Una. Typical. Leave her to handle all the problems.

  “I don’t blame you,” she said, trying to keep her voice soft and kind. “Well, I mean it was your fault for running off. I’m not saying everything wasn’t your fault.” She gave him a wink, but he did not see it. He had completely missed the humor in her voice and his eyes were closed, his face contorted in agony.

  “George, George,” she reached a hand out to his shoulder. “It’s just a joke, you know? I don’t really blame you for any of that.” That wasn’t exactly true. She still didn’t know the knight’s whole story, and until she did, she assumed there was definitely some blame to pass around. But it wasn’t like he wanted to be held and tortured by Duessa and her giant. No blame warranted there.

  “I ruined everything,” he said, still crying. “The mission. I failed the Faerie Queen. I failed you. I failed to redeem myself from past failures. I can help no one. All I do just gets in the way. I’d be better off not being here. I should have let them execute me after Sir Broderick.”

  “Which Broderick? Broderick the Flame of Devonshire?” Arthur asked, his voice sharp.

  George nodded, “The same.”

  Arthur leaned back, a look of comprehension dawning on his eyes.

  “Who is that?” Una asked, looking from George to Arthur.

  “I don’t know which stories are true, but from what I’ve heard, Sir Broderick was a lord, well respected among his people. A number of years ago, while visiting a military fort, he was attacked by Saxons. One of his private guards should have been there to protect him, but he had run off with one of the kitchen wenches for a little stroll. Sir Broderick died. The guard would have been executed had he not run away the moment he heard.”

  Una’s eyes fixed on George, who seemed to curl up even tighter, his body shaking with silent sobs. “Is it true?” she asked him.

  She could not see the knight’s face, but she knew he heard her. His sobs had stopped and he lay deathly still. “I didn’t know,” he said in a high-pitched tone. “He often gave me leave, and I thought it was harmless.”

  Una stood on her feet. She had to be hearing things wrong. All this time, she had thought George was different than most of the other men, that he was above such virtuous errors. Sure, there had been the time he’d touched her, but that had been nothing but a misunderstanding and a sign of true endearment from him. Or at least, that’s what she had thought. Now she found that not only was George just as bad as all the other men, his meddling had cost him the life of his lord.

  “I need some air,” said Una, turning to exit the cave. Arthur gave no protest.

  “Una,” cried George in a hoarse voice, as loud as he could manage. “Please don’t leave me, Una. I’m trying to make up for it.”

  “And it’s like you said,” Una snapped on her way out. “You’re a failure at that too.”

  She stormed out of the cave feeling fury bubble up inside of her. She wasn’t even that certain what she was so upset about. So the man had flirted with a woman, that hardly made him unusual. But Una had had far too many encounters with overly eager men, that it didn’t take much effort to imagine George participating in the same type of activity.

  Perhaps the “kitchen wench” as Arthur had put it was equally as guilty as George. It was a mutual thing. But for some reason, that thought didn’t make it any better. George had been meant to protect his lord. And failing, he had run, rather than face the consequences of his actions.

  She stomped through the foliage, following the path all the way to the main road through the forest. She considered moving on, continuing down the path that led to Castle Silene. She could forget about the two men. After all, both of them had hurt her in the past. Arthur had left her in Londinium, and George had left her in the cave. She didn’t owe either of them anything.

  She growled softly under her breath. Was she being irrational? After all, if she had been threatened with death, she would have run away like George too. Of course, Una would have been smart enough not to get into such a situation in the first place, but could she really blame him for running? Perhaps not.

  But she could definitely blame him for his neglect of duty. It
was the same thing she had seen in him since they met up. He had found himself distracted by Duessa and her enchantments. And those had led to his imprisonment, and a whole lot of trouble for Una.

  A part of her agreed. It pulsed with her anger, encouraged her when she thought of how much she would love for George to really feel the depth of his betrayal, to understand just how much trouble he had put her through.

  It was the voice of her magic, even though such a voice was still a mystery to her. She should leave the knight, leave Arthur, take her wits and use them to get past the dragon at her parents’ castle. She didn’t need them. She didn’t need anyone. She had what she needed most, her intuition and her magic. They would see her past this, and she would skin alive anyone who got in her way.

  Who was this Faerie Queen anyway that she could order Una about like this? She was not one to be caught between some petty squabbles between one ruler of this forest and another. Duessa and Gloriana could duel it out to the death for all she cared. Let them fight, and she would feast on their bones. She would become the true queen of Arden, the rightful ruler of all…

  She froze in place, only just realizing where her thoughts had gone. And it was still there, stoking her anger, making her feel things, and think thoughts that were not her own. Become the rightful ruler of Arden? Where had those emotions come from? She wasn’t like this. There was something, or someone inside of her, telling her what to do!

  She clutched at her abdomen, as if her magic were something she could see and brush off like a bug. But it didn’t work like that, she knew. Perhaps she could talk to the Faerie Queen. Or maybe Arthur would introduce her to this Merlin magician. All she knew was that she needed to remove whatever was making her feel like such a horrid tyrant.

  Una needed help. That much was certain. Whatever happened, she had to keep her magic restrained. In that instant, she vowed not to use it again, not even to save her own life. First, she needed to know more about where it came from, and why she could use it. Then perhaps she could find a way to eliminate it entirely.