by KM Shea
“Does it displease you to find me near your kingdom?”
“No, I told you before that you could pass through whenever you wish so long as you don’t disturb my people,” Britt said.
“I thank you for your generosity. I am on a noble adventure, for I am chasing the Questing Beast.”
“The Questing Beast? I remember you mentioning that when we argued about your Sable Knight title. What exactly is a Questing Beast?”
King Pellinore removed his helm and patted his horse on the neck. “It is a great creature that has the head and neck of a serpent, the body of a leopard, the haunches of a lion, and the feet of a stag. A great noise emits from its belly, sounding like thirty or so baying hounds.”
“Really,” Britt said.
“You don’t believe me?”
“No, it’s more that I suspect we have a miscommunication—like the fact that you wear black armor and call yourself the Sable Knight,” Britt said, placing her hands on her hips.
Pellinore frowned. “You are an odd boy.”
“Perhaps. How far have you chased this beast?”
“From my castle. I have sought it my entire life, although it often eludes me. It roams Britain like the winds. I lost its trail some days ago.”
“But?”
Pellinore laughed as he dismounted. “You are odd but just as sharp as Merlin. I lost its trail, but I am not much enthused by the prospect of returning home. To say my wife was not pleased at my departure would be a vast understatement.”
“I see.”
“What has dragged you from the paradise of Camelot, King Arthur?” Pellinore asked as he led his horse to the river’s edge, letting it drink.
“A small party of knights and I are on our way to Camelgrance.”
“King Leodegrance’s lands? I received word that Duke Maleagant is approaching his borders. You aim to help him?”
“Partially. We mean to spy on Maleagant’s forces so we know what army I must amass. King Leodegrance does not know of our party, for we mean to keep things secret.” She hesitated. “Would you care to join us?” she asked on a whim.
“Come with you to Camelgrance, you mean?”
“Yes.”
King Pellinore thought for a moment before a smile broke the stoic look on his noble face. “I would be delighted! Does Merlin ride with you?”
“Naturally,” Britt said. “Has your horse drunk its fill? I can lead the way to our camp.”
Pellinore looked at his mount, who stopped lipping the water and shook like a dog. “She is well. Lead on, Arthur!”
Britt led the way back to camp, calling when she grew close enough, “Merlin, Sir Kay? I have brought us another companion.”
Kay looked up from the logbook in which he was writing, and Merlin almost choked on the carrot he was chewing. “King Pellinore, welcome to our camp,” Merlin said.
“It is my honor. King Arthur spoke of your mission to scout Maleagant’s forces,” King Pellinore said.
“If it pleases you, Sir Bodwain, Sir Bedivere, Sir Kay, and I would like to hear your thoughts on our plan,” Merlin said.
“It would be my pleasure,” King Pellinore said, joining Merlin at the nearly burned out campfire.
Britt watched with a fond smile before she took a squashed, stale piece of bread from Gawain to serve as her breakfast.
“I don’t understand, is King Pellinore not your enemy?”
Britt glanced at Lancelot, who joined her at the camp edge. She gave him a false smile. “He was when he joined King Lot and fought against me, but I have since made peace with him. He is noble and quite likeable—something I cannot say of all who are present.”
“You are kind to your enemies,” Lancelot said. “You include Prince Ywain and Prince Gawain in your company when they are the sons of men who sought to kill you.”
Britt tried to act serene instead of snapping at Lancelot that for King Arthur, it was really his best friend and wife he had to worry about rather than the sons of his onetime enemies. “Both Sir Ywain and Sir Gawain have proven their loyalty to me. I have no reason to question them, for I know their allegiance is boundless.”
Lancelot frowned. “My father was once forced to flee his kingdom by Claudas. I do not know if I could treat Claudas as you have treated King Pellinore.”
Britt fixed a smile as sweet as poison on her lips. “Perhaps that is why the Sword in the Stone chose me,” she suggested. “If you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for our day.”
“Of course, My Lord.”
Britt thought nothing more of the conversation, and it would have surprised her to learn that Lancelot, on the other hand, dwelled upon it for a long time.
A few more days of riding brought Britt and her knightly escort to King Leodegrance’s lands.
“This is where we part,” Merlin said, swinging his spindly legged horse to address Sir Bodwain. “You take the main company and scout Maleagant’s camp. Sir Kay, Sir Gawain, Sir Ywain, Sir Lancelot, King Pellinore, King Arthur, and I will move ahead to Camelgrance. We will meet at the mill south of here this evening.”
“As planned,” Sir Bodwain nodded. His horse pranced a few steps until he stood directly in front of Britt. “Good luck, My Lord. God’s speed and safety,” he wished, bowing from the saddle.
“I look forward to your return, My Lord,” Sir Bedivere added. Behind him, the remaining knights of Camelot bowed their heads in reverence.
“Thank you, I wish you luck with your part of the quest,” Britt said.
As Sir Bodwain and Sir Bedivere rode off, leading the larger party of knights east, Merlin turned to the remaining group. “Now then, we set out on a ridiculous quest to break into our ally’s castle to look upon a nasty table. We must go silently, which means we shall have to leave behind some of our equipment,” Merlin said, staring at Britt and Llamrei.
Britt’s armor and clothes were liberally embroidered with the image of a red dragon. Even Llamrei had a red dragon with its wings thrown open embroidered on her saddle blanket and burned into her leather tack.“What?” Britt blinked.
“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.
“We wish to avoid detection,” Gawain said.
“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,” Britt said, sliding off Llamr
ei.
“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 adopt,” 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.”
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.”
Her 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 seek.”
“Of course.” She pushed off the keep wall, her eyes combing 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 took the sack from the maid, 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?” 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.”
“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 grabbed 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 fifteen or sixteen, 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 curtsey 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.” She edged around Lancelot to draw closer to the ledge. Britt 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. She 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 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 m
y 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 lady’s 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 apprehended Wyne. 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 folded 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 a hundred and fifty 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.”