by Kit Pearson
At every meal, except for dinner with Fa, Sebastian had asked Aunt Madge terrible questions. “Aunt Madge, dear,” he would say sweetly, “why didn’t you ever get married? Couldn’t you find a man who liked whiskers? … Phew, something smells! Aunt Madge, have you ever thought of using Odo-Ro-No?”
Aunt Madge would gasp and blush, and sometimes her eyes would well up. If she asked Sebastian to do something he would answer coldly, “Why would I choose to do that?” in a sarcastic tone none of them had ever heard before.
Corrie and Roz had tried to talk to Sebastian. But he had ignored them. “Aunt Madge is Morgan La Fay. She is evil and must be vanquished.”
“But why?” Roz had asked. “She’s really nice and you’re being so rude! You’ve got to stop!”
But Sebastian’s cruelty had remained ruthless. Corrie remembered how desperate he seemed. It had lasted only a week, but it was one of the longest weeks of Corrie’s life.
Roz had come up to Corrie’s room every night and they had lamented together over Sebastian’s behaviour. Corrie thought they should tell Fa, but as usual he was so immersed in his work that they hated to disturb him.
“Anyway,” Roz had said, “I couldn’t bear for him to know how awful Sebastian is being. What’s wrong with him, Corrie? It’s as if he’s a different person!”
Then Cousin Daphne had phoned and Aunt Madge had announced that she had to leave to take care of her. Corrie had felt so relieved that the torture would be over that she had forgotten how much she would miss her aunt.
It had probably been a relief to Aunt Madge as well, Corrie thought now. Would she have stayed if Cousin Daphne hadn’t been sick? Maybe she would have spoken to Fa and they would have confronted Sebastian.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Madge,” Corrie whispered. Her eyes prickled. “I’m really sorry Sebastian was so mean to you.”
Aunt Madge put down her knitting, pulled Corrie to her chair, and held her against her tweedy front. “It’s all right, dear girl. He didn’t intend to be, I’m sure. He was so unhappy about his mother’s death, he couldn’t help it.”
Corrie sniffed in the soothing smell of 4711. She yearned to weep and be comforted even more. A knight never cries. Corrie forced back her tears and sat up.
Aunt Madge picked up her knitting again. “What worries me, Corrie dear, is that Sebastian still resents me. I was really hoping that he would accept me now, but he can’t seem to do that. You see, Daphne is getting stronger every month. If the day came when she didn’t need me any more, perhaps … Well, I was really hoping I could come back.”
“Come back! Oh, Aunt Madge, do you really think you could?”
“There’s nothing I’d like better. I miss you all so terribly—there’s scarcely a moment in the day when I don’t think of you. The problem is …”
“Sebastian,” said Corrie glumly.
“Yes, Sebastian. Would he be the same if I came back? Would he still resent my being here? I don’t know if I could bear him behaving the way he did before, and I wouldn’t want to make him unhappy.”
Corrie’s head whirled. Probably Sebastian would be even worse if Aunt Madge came back. He was used to being in charge now, to controlling their lives, from bedtimes to allowances. She couldn’t imagine him changing. She thought of the bliss of having Aunt Madge living here again, and for the first time in her life, she felt angry at her brother.
“I don’t know why Sebastian is the way he is,” she mumbled.
“Well, he’s at a difficult age. I’ll just keep trying to be friends. He can’t hold out forever, can he? Anyway, Daphne may not get better and I may not be able to come back. I probably shouldn’t have told you that, Corrie. I’m sorry I got your hopes up.”
Corrie tried to smile. “That’s all right.”
Aunt Madge put down her knitting and sat up straighter. “Now, Corrie, there’s another matter I want to discuss. It’s about your game of knights.”
Immediately Corrie was on her guard. The Round Table had nothing to do with the grown-ups, not even nice ones like Aunt Madge.
“Sebastian has pretended he was Sir Lancelot ever since he was a little boy,” said Aunt Madge. “Your mother used to call him her knight in shining armour.”
“She did?” Corrie had never known that Sebastian was a knight before Mum died.
“After Molly’s death Sebastian gradually enlisted Roz and you and Harry into his game. It seemed to comfort him, and as long as he was still a child his game seemed normal, just pretending, as all children do. But, Corrie, I can’t help noticing how much being knights seems to have taken over your lives. Sebastian is fourteen! It’s not healthy for a teenaged boy to immerse himself in fantasy like this. Roz knows that. She’s growing up, she’s making new friends and having the normal interests of a teenager. But Sebastian is retreating from reality, and all of you except Roz are doing the same. None of you seem to have any friends or interests outside of the family.”
“But I have a friend now!” said Corrie. “Her name is Meredith. You haven’t met her because she’s away for the holidays. Orly and Harry have friends at school, and Juliet is the most popular girl in her class!”
Aunt Madge smiled at her. “I’m glad to hear it. But I still don’t think this game is good for you. You all seem obsessed by it. I think it’s time Sebastian put an end to the knights.”
“No!” Corrie cried.
“Hush a moment, dear. Just hear me out. I tried to talk this over with William yesterday. He was no help at all. He said Sebastian seemed happy enough and he admired Sebastian’s grasp of the Middle Ages! I think you have to say something to Sebastian, Corrie. I know how close you are to your brother.”
Aunt Madge smiled. “I used to be that close to William, too. We played a game for years: we pretended we were Greek gods. He was Apollo and I was Pan. But then William went away to school, and when he came home he was so immersed in literature and his new brainy friends that he hardly spoke to his dull little sister.”
She sighed, then turned to Corrie with a determined look. “Corrie, dear, I think you should suggest to Sebastian that he end this foolish game. Couldn’t you do that? You could still play knights with your new friend and with the younger ones. But there’s something wrong with a boy Sebastian’s age being so childish.”
A foolish game? The Round Table? Corrie stood up and said stiffly, “I’m sorry, Aunt Madge, but I can’t ask Sebastian to do that. And there’s nothing wrong with him!”
“Are you sure?” said Aunt Madge softly. “Is he still being bullied? I remember just before I left, when Sebastian started junior high. Some rough boys used to follow him home from school and taunt him.”
“They don’t do it any more,” said Corrie. That was the truth, at least. She took a deep breath. “Sebastian has good friends now … he’s popular! The game is only for home. I don’t see what’s wrong with it.”
“He has friends? Why isn’t anyone phoning him, then? Why isn’t he seeing them this week the way Roz is seeing hers?”
“They’re all … away. His two best friends are skiing and the other one has gone to … to Hawaii,” said Corrie frantically.
A knight never lies. But surely a knight had to lie to save the Round Table.
To her amazement Aunt Madge seemed to believe her. “I’m so relieved to hear Sebastian has friends, Corrie. Well, perhaps I’m worried for nothing. But I do wish he’d cut his hair in a more normal way.”
“He isn’t normal! He’s special! He can wear his hair any way he likes!”
“I agree that he’s special, Corrie. He always has been. He’s an extremely intelligent and gifted young man. And I know how much you admire him. Would you let me know if he gets isolated? Then I’ll try to approach your father again.”
Corrie nodded because she had no choice. “Can I go and watch TV now?”
“Of course you can! I’m glad we had this talk, dear. And if Sebastian is happy at school and has friends, I suppose it’s all right. Probably he just plays
the game at home to please the rest of you. He won’t do it for long, I’m sure. Wait until he discovers girls!”
Aunt Madge seemed to be trying to reassure herself. Corrie left her. She went to her room instead of downstairs and lay trembling on her bed. If the Round Table ended, all their safety, the refuge they had sheltered in since Mum’s death, would disappear.
She opened up the Happy Hollisters book she had received for Christmas and immersed herself in the senseless but soothing adventures of an impossibly contented family.
“LET US NOW RELIVE the glorious moment of honour for our beloved king,” intoned Sebastian. Corrie shivered, and not just from the chill of the shed; she adored this ceremony.
They were all dressed in their best armour or tunic. Picking up their banners, they mounted the horses that had newly braided reins for the occasion and waited for Sir Lancelot’s signal. Corrie kept glancing at Roz. It was a relief to see her in Sir Gawain’s usual garb—a chain-mail shirt fashioned out of netting that Roz had painted silver the year before. Roz seemed to be as absorbed as the rest of them, but her face was so blank it was hard to tell.
“We will begin!” said Sir Lancelot. They paraded out of the shed and around the yard. Corrie imagined how Lightning tossed his noble head, how the crowds cheered wildly; she almost waved to them. When she glanced at the kitchen window she noticed that Aunt Madge was watching. Corrie tried not to look back.
The procession stopped at a boulder half-submerged in the farthest part of the yard. On top was an inverted tin washing tub, and from a slit in it protruded a huge wooden sword.
They held their horses still and stood, transfixed, while Sebastian told them the familiar story of how the sword had been stuck into a steel anvil that lay on a slab of stone in a London churchyard. Written on the stone in gold letters were the words: WHOSO PULLETH OUT THIS SWORD OF THIS STONE AND ANVIL IS RIGHTWISE KING BORN OF ALL ENGLAND.
Corrie could see the story as clearly as if it were happening right in front of them. How Sir Ector, his son, Sir Kay, and his foster son, Arthur, came to London to joust on New Year’s Day. How Sir Kay forgot his sword and sent Arthur back for it. On his way Arthur spotted the sword in the churchyard. “With one heave he lightly pulled the sword out of the stone,” said Sebastian. He drew the sword out of the stone himself and they all cheered. “Thus was Arthur recognized as the rightful king of England!” Sebastian looked so majestic himself, he could just as easily be young King Arthur as Sir Lancelot, Corrie decided.
“And now, one more time around, my brave company, and then we shall feast!” They pranced back to Camelot. This feast was even grander than October’s: cold turkey, ginger ale for mead, Christmas cake, and nuts.
“I wish we could eat with our hands all the time,” said Orly, dangling a long piece of turkey and eating it from the bottom up.
“Now that we have feasted, perhaps Sir Gawain could entertain us,” said Sir Lancelot. Sir Gawain was known for his prowess on the harp. Last year he had made one out of wires stretched across a wooden box.
Sir Lancelot handed the harp to Sir Gawain. But instead of taking it, Roz stood up and went to the door.
“I have something to tell all of you,” she said. Her face was white and her voice shook. “Especially you, Sebastian. I’m not going to be a knight any more. I’m too old for it. It’s just a game—a game for kids. You’re too old for it too, Sebastian. Why don’t we just let the younger kids play it?”
Sebastian had turned as white as she was. “Do I hear you rightly, Sir Gawain?” he whispered.
“I’m not Sir Gawain any more! You heard me—I’m done! I’m never going to play your silly game again!” Roz ran out of the shed, slamming the door behind her.
The rest of them sat in shocked silence.
“Never mind,” muttered Sebastian at last. “Pay no heed, fellow members of the Round Table, to what Sir Gawain has said. He is a false, miscreant knight.” His voice was so cold that Corrie winced.
“What does that mean?” asked Juliet in a scared voice.
“It means that Sir Gawain is evil and disloyal. He is no longer one of us—he is banished.”
“Do you mean Roz is going away?” asked Orly. He stood up and looked at the door.
“It’s all right, Orly,” Corrie told him. “It just means Roz isn’t going to be a knight any more. She’s still part of the family. She’s still our sister.”
“But why isn’t she going to be a knight?” asked Harry.
“Because she has chosen not to be,” said Sebastian bitterly. “Lately Sir Gawain has seldom been here anyway. We can easily do without him. Master Harry, help me carry out his siege.”
Harry helped Sebastian pick up the stump with “Sir Gawain” carved in it. They took it outside and threw it into the bushes at the back of Camelot.
The celebration was ruined. Orly started crying and Sebastian let him go back to the house. Harry and Juliet continued to look scared and Sebastian pressed his lips closed. Silently they gathered up the fragments of food and took them into the kitchen.
Sebastian went up to his room with a heavy tread. They could hear his door slam.
“What’s the matter?” asked Aunt Madge, stirring cake batter. “Have you had an argument? First Roz is upset, then Orly, and now Sebastian!”
“It’s nothing,” Corrie muttered. She took Juliet by the hand, went to find Orly, and played Fish with them until dinner.
SEBASTIAN SPENT MOST of the last days of the holidays sequestered in his room. He was drawing a book of birds of prey, he told Corrie. At meals his face was tight and his voice strained. Corrie didn’t dare bring up Roz’s disloyalty.
Roz, on the other hand, seemed at peace with herself. Corrie realized how torn she must have felt in the past months, how drawn to both the Round Table and her life at school. Now she could devote herself entirely to being a teenager.
She began to keep the radio continually tuned to a rock-and-roll station. Songs like “Jailhouse Rock” and “Wake Up Little Susie” boomed through the house. Roz raved about Elvis to Corrie.
“He’s so dreamy!” she said.
“He’s awful!” shuddered Corrie. The singer’s slimy hair and the knowing grin on his face scared her.
“You’re just like I was, Roz,” laughed Aunt Madge. “For me it was Frank Sinatra. How I worshipped him! I still do, I suppose.”
The night before she left, Aunt Madge took them all—except Sebastian, who refused to go—to Around the World in Eighty Days. Luckily the others chattered to her so much that Corrie didn’t have to. She had avoided her aunt ever since their talk. She hated the hurt looks Aunt Madge gave her, but she just couldn’t risk talking about Sebastian or the Round Table again.
Now she was in the hall, saying goodbye. This time Roz was the one going in the cab.
“Oh, my dears, how I will miss you all!” Aunt Madge’s eyes glistened as she kissed each of them. Sebastian even smiled, he was so obviously delighted she was leaving.
Corrie’s own eyes were moist as she felt the soft body embrace her. “Don’t go!” she wanted to cry.
The house felt desolate when Fa and Roz got back. Tomorrow the Elephant would return and school would begin again. What had happened to the magic of Christmas?
10
The Kingdom of Cordith
Fa didn’t notice, of course, that Sebastian and Roz were now like strangers. They talked only when they had to, in coldly polite words. Corrie found herself longing for their arguments. At least then they were themselves.
Corrie didn’t realize how much she’d missed Meredith until their reunion. “Oh, Corrie, I got a budgie!” she cried when Corrie met her at the corner as usual. “His name’s Paisley and he’s gorgeous. Can you come to my house today and meet him?”
After school Corrie and the twins sat in the Coopers’ kitchen and admired Paisley. He was gorgeous, with bright blue markings and speckled wings.
“He won’t talk,” complained Meredith.
“You hav
e to sit by his cage and repeat something over and over,” Corrie told her. “That’s what Roz did.”
They left the twins chattering to Mrs. Cooper and went up to Meredith’s room. After Meredith had finished telling her all about Calgary, Corrie related the story about Roz leaving the Round Table.
At once Meredith begged again to join. “I could be Sir Gawain! He’s an important knight—you’ll need him.”
“You know Sebastian won’t let you.”
“Then I’ll be Sir Gawain instead of Sir Perceval when we play knights here,” said Meredith.
“That’s something I’ve been thinking about, Meredith,” said Corrie slowly. “I don’t think you and I should be knights any more. Sebastian would be really mad if he knew.”
“But he won’t know!”
“I still don’t want to,” Corrie said stubbornly. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“But why?”
“I can’t explain. I just don’t want to, okay?” Being knights outside the family now seemed as false and miscreant as Roz’s disloyalty.
Meredith kept arguing, and both of their voices became angry. Corrie got so tired of repeating herself that she finally rushed out of the room, grabbed the surprised twins, and walked home. She stumbled through the rest of the day, trying not to think about Meredith until she was in bed.
She had lost her best friend! A knight is loyal. Ever since Roz had abandoned them, Corrie had realized how disloyal she had been, playing knights behind Sebastian’s back. Sir Lancelot needed to count on Sir Gareth more than ever, now that he was the only other knight left.
Why couldn’t Meredith understand that? The thought of never playing with her again, of never again going to that welcoming house, was unbearable.
A knight never cries. Corrie swallowed her tears, pushing down another disloyal thought: If there wasn’t a Round Table, she wouldn’t have this conflict.
“I’M SO SORRY, CORRIE,” said Meredith immediately the next morning. “I don’t understand why Sebastian has this power over you, but he’s your brother. If I had a brother maybe I’d be the same. We don’t have to play knights any more.”