[King Arthur and Her Knights 01.0 - 03.0] Enthroned, Enchanted, Embittered

by KM Shea

  “Prepare yourself, for I will run you through,” Maleagant promised when he finished shouting. He turned and stalked back into his camp. “Where are my horse and my lance?” he demanded.

  “It is to be a joust this time then? Splendid. Is a fence necessary, or will you two be able to run at each other?” King Leodegrance asked, rubbing his hands together.

  “The White Knight will need a lance. As it is the least you can do, can I assume you will supply one?” Sir Kay asked Leodegrance.

  “Absolutely! You there, fetch a lance for our great champion,” King Leodegrance said to a soldier.

  As the soldier went back into Camelgrance, Guinevere charged out of it on the back of her riding horse. She blushed when she espied Britt. “Champion,” she called.

  Britt turned her back to the girl. “Kay, what are you doing? It’s not like you to run your mouth like this, and you have just gotten us into a mess of trouble. I can’t beat Maleagant in a joust. What are you thinking?” Britt said, her voice lowered.

  “But you can, My Lord,” Kay said. “You haven’t the passion for jousting as you do for the sword, but you’ve gotten quite good at it.”

  “How can you say that? I’ve never even unseated you!”

  “Forgive my pride, My Lord, but as it stands, I am the best knight at jousting in all of Camelot. It would take much for you to defeat me. Trust my judgment, My Lord. You can beat Maleagant.”

  Britt turned to glance back at the Maleagant’s camp. “Do you really believe that?”

  “I do. If you do not lose heart, My Lord, you will certainly win.”

  Britt sighed. “Merlin is going to kill you when we get back to him.”

  “Of that I am well aware.”

  “Does this lance suit you, champion?” King Leodegrance’s soldier asked, trotting up to the pair, carrying a long, tapered weapon.

  Britt recognized it as a jousting lance, so the end was blunted and cupped to prevent a knight from impaling his opponent.

  Sir Kay went over it and nodded. “It will do, thank you,” he said, handing the weapon up to Britt.

  When Maleagant appeared again, fully armored and mounted, Sir Kay asked, “The White Knight wishes to know if you, too, plan to use a jousting lance, or if you intend to take a much-needed advantage and use an actual lance.”

  Maleagant growled and presented the blunted tip of his jousting lance.

  “Very well,” Sir Kay said before walking off.

  Britt nudged her charger and followed him.

  “You’re taking this better than I thought you would,” Sir Kay said when they were far enough away that their words would be muted to the crowd gathering at the gates of Camelgrance.

  “The only thing that is keeping me here is your judgment. I have absolute belief in you. So, if you say I can do this…” Britt trailed off and shivered in her armor.

  “Am I one who normally lets you gamble with your life?”

  “No.”

  “Then I promise you. You will win.” Sir Kay stopped when they were far enough away from Maleagant for a proper joust. “Sit deep in your saddle, and push from your stirrups,” he said, unhooking a plain shield from Britt’s charger and passing it up to her.

  “Ok,” Britt said, her heart pounded in her throat as she slid her left arm through the shield straps. She swiveled her horse to face Maleagant, wishing she could wipe off the sweat that was starting to bead on her face.

  Maleagant was on his red roan horse again, and he seemed especially sinister dressed in his armor embellished with blood-red swirls and decorations.

  “Don’t panic. You will win,” Kay said, backing away as one of Leodegrance’s men raised a flag.

  When the soldier swung it down, Britt and Maleagant cued their horses forward, rushing towards each other in a canter.

  Britt pressed her butt deep into the saddle to anchor herself as she rocked with her horse’s rolling gait. She steeled herself so she wouldn’t flinch, and too quickly Maleagant was upon her.

  Britt steadied her joust with her right hand, carefully aiming for Maleagant’s shield. She hit it, but Maleagant also hit her.

  Numbness followed by a flash of pain hit Britt when Maleagant pushed, trying to toss her from the saddle. Gritting her teeth, Britt managed to keep her seat. So did Maleagant. It was a draw.

  Britt raised her lance and trotted back to Kay, flexing her arm to get feeling back into it.

  Kay stared at her when Britt stopped her charger in front of him.

  “He isn’t as strong as you,” Britt said. “Getting hit by you in a serious charge hurts enough to make my eyes water and my arm useless for an hour.”

  Sir Kay nodded as Britt guided her horse back into place. “You didn’t push,” he said.

  “What?” Britt said, tugging her shield back into place, ignoring the tingling in her arm.

  “You did not push him with your strength—it was all the force of your mount,” Sir Kay said.

  “I was guarded and more concerned about staying in the saddle,” Britt admitted.

  “Staying on isn’t going to win this joust. He’s bigger and has more stamina than you; he’ll wear you down. You must use all your strength to unseat him,” Sir Kay said as again Leodegrance’s soldier raised the flag.

  “Right,” Britt said moments before the flag dropped and her horse exploded forward in a canter.

  Britt braced herself as her mount charged across the field, again holding her lance aloft as she carefully aimed for Maleagant’s shield.

  The impact was worse this time. Instead of numbness, Britt’s side burned as if she had been hit by a sledgehammer. Maleagant didn’t seem to feel Britt’s lance, but Britt was almost popped from her saddle. She hit the back of her jousting saddle, its raised rim biting into her lower back.

  Britt coughed, feeling significantly more pained as she turned her horse and trotted back to Kay, ignoring Maleagant’s sneering laughter.

  Sir Kay had his arms folded as he studied Britt.

  Even though he couldn’t see her eyes, Britt looked away, embarrassed by the knowledge she still hadn’t done as Sir Kay said to.

  She couldn’t help it. She was weighed down by the knowledge of what a loss would mean.

  “Britt.”

  Britt looked to her foster brother. “Yes?”

  “That man down there in the armor,” Sir Kay said, pointing with a thick finger.

  “Yes?”

  “That’s Lancelot.”

  “What?”

  “You are not riding to trounce a tyrant. You’re riding to toss Lancelot from his horse like you have always wanted.”

  Britt started to protest. “I never wanted to throw Lancelot.”

  Sir Kay interrupted, “Britt, that is Lancelot,” he said before he walked off.

  Britt thoughtfully turned her charger, staring at Maleagant at the far end of the field. The soldier raised and lowered his flag, and Britt’s mount leaped into a canter.

  Britt leaned forward slightly, squeezing her legs and urging the horse to go faster. It complied, and Britt thundered down the field at a crazy speed. She was on Maleagant in an instant, and this time it was different.

  When Britt felt her lance hit Maleagant’s shield, she pushed. She pushed her feet down in the stirrups to give herself something to strain against as well as the saddle and used that force to lean into Maleagant. The superior velocity of Britt’s charger made it more difficult to aim, but it also gave her a great deal of more force when she hit Maleagant.

  Every muscle in Britt’s body burned as she pushed in spite of the painful blow Maleagant landed on her shield.

  A split second, and it was over.

  Maleagant was knocked from his saddle and went sprawling over the side of his horse, falling to the ground with a clang.

  Britt couldn’t feel her left arm anymore, and she had to prop the lance up on her saddle as her right arm trembled from the exertion.

  Kay walked back to Britt as men hurried to Maleagant’s s
ide. Cheers exploded from Camelgrance, and Guinevere cried and clasped a hand to her chest.

  Maleagant’s men rolled Maleagant onto his back, removing his helm for him. Slowly, they sat him up. The fallen knight briefly held his head before he narrowed his eyes and snarled at Britt, “Who are you, knight? I demand to know.”

  Britt couldn’t have asked Maleagant to perform any closer to the dialog Merlin had prepared.

  As Kay reached her side and held her horse, Britt removed her helm. “I am Arthur, King of Camelot, wielder of Excalibur, and ally of King Leodegrance.”

  Maleagant roared and struggled to stand.

  Britt dropped her lance on the ground and pulled Excalibur from its scabbard, using it to point at Maleagant. “I have beaten you twice now, Duke Maleagant. I thought you to be a man of your word, but if you are not, I will trounce you a third time, this time with the aid of my men,” she said, thrusting Excalibur towards the sky.

  On cue, three different hunting horns from three different directions were sounded. In three different parts of the forest, knights on horseback emerged from the trees—barely visible in the shadows—and spread like three great companies disappearing deep into the forest. On the forest perimeter, there were glints of metal where sunlight reflected off armor and weapons.

  Entirely alone, Merlin walked some feet away from the forest. He waved his staff over his head, and fire exploded from the tip, igniting in orange flames that were at least twenty feet tall.

  Maleagant stopped muttering under his breath and stared at the forest with wide eyes.

  “Do you understand what I am saying, Duke Maleagant?” Britt asked, cuing her charger closer to the cheater. “Leave, or this third time, I will not be so generous in letting you live,” Brit said, swinging her sword down in an arc to again stab it in his direction.

  Maleagant scrambled for his horse, his men right behind him. “You shall regret this, beardless youth!” Maleagant promised as he rode off, leaving behind tents and equipment.

  Maleagant and his accompanying knights urged their horses faster when the hunting horns were blown again. They disappeared, riding off in the direction of Duke Maleagant’s lands, and Britt slumped in her saddle.

  “I can’t believe they bought that,” she said, sliding Excalibur back into its scabbard.

  “Merlin is a fox,” Sir Kay said in explanation.

  “Arthur! I am delighted to have such a close ally protecting Camelgrance. It is good fortune that you brought your army with you,” King Leodegrance said, riding up to Britt with a greasy smile.

  “Of course,” Britt said, lying through her teeth.

  There was no army.

  While Britt fought Maleagant and distracted everyone, Merlin and the rest of the knights were busy planting shields, swords, and any piece of reflective metal they had in the forest. (There was a small hoard thanks to King Pellinore’s obsession with jousting and taking shields from those he defeated.) The small group of fifteen knights then carefully planted themselves in three different groups, spreading out and doing their best to fade into the forest to give the illusion that there were more of them than there really were. Kay’s horse, Merlin’s horse, and Llamrei were used to bulk up the numbers. The forest was far enough away that when the horses were placed in the back, no one would be able to tell that they were without riders.

  Not, of course, that they were going to tell Leodegrance any of this. Who knew how the idiot would run his mouth to Maleagant.

  “Will you stay with us for a time? I am sure Camelgrance cannot match the magnificence of Camelot, but I would like to express my gratitude. Have you met my daughter, Guinevere? You must have, or you would not have acted as her champion,” King Leodegrance said.

  “I and a small group of my knights would take pleasure in remaining at Camelgrance for the night,” Britt said as Kay signaled to Merlin and the others that all was well. “And yes, I have met Lady Guinevere, although I must correct you. I acted as Camelgrance’s champion,” Britt said, politely bowing from the saddle to Guinevere.

  Gone was Guinevere’s schooled smile. Instead, she looked perplexed as she studied Britt.

  “Of course, of course you must claim so. I will not pretend to understand young love. Come inside, we must feast and toast to your win,” King Leodegrance said, turning his back to Britt to cut off her objections to his statements.

  Britt frowned and looked at Sir Kay.

  “You said it was for the people, not their ruler,” Sir Kay reminded her.

  “I know. I just wish the ruler would leave me out of it,” Britt muttered, following Leodegrance into Camelgrance.

  6

  Going Home

  “Are you sure you require no more assistance, My Lord?” Gawain asked, setting aside the last of Britt’s armor.

  “I’m sure. I must apologize; I did not mean to make you act as my squire for this trip,” Britt said, wincing as she flexed her left arm.

  “I am aware of that, My Lord. But it is my pleasure to serve you any way I can.”

  “Thank you, Gawain.”

  “You’re welcome, My Lord.” Gawain bowed and slipped out of the room.

  Britt groaned as she started struggling out of the padding she wore under her armor. Her muscles ached, and getting down to her loose underclothes made them burn again.

  Someone knocked on the door. “Arthur,” Merlin said, opening the door. He shrieked a little when he saw Britt was still struggling out of the padding and slammed the door shut.

  Britt wrenched off the last of the padding. “There’s no need to be squeamish, Merlin. I’m still wearing clothes.” She winced as she used a leather cord to pull her hair back in a perky ponytail.

  Merlin didn’t reply, and Britt heaved her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head as she slipped on a doublet and buttoned it up. It wasn’t her padded one she normally used to flatten her chest, so her female body showed, but Britt didn’t care. Her sides ached horribly, and she wouldn’t be expected to join in the festivities for at least half an hour to an hour. She could wear whatever she pleased as long as Merlin and Kay were the only ones who saw her.

  There was a knock on the door again. “Merlin, I already told you to come in,” Britt said, turning to face the door.

  It opened, and Britt was shocked to see Guinevere instead of Merlin staring back at her. When Guinevere’s eyes widened as she gaped at Britt, Britt realized her mistake.

  Britt swore under her breath, but she was even further shocked when Guinevere stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.

  “I thought it was odd that you wouldn’t give me your proper attention,” Guinevere said, approaching Britt. She placed her hand on Britt’s cheek, feeling her smooth, feminine skin. “Now I know why.”

  “What do you mean?” Britt asked, her mind scrambling. Perhaps she could knock Guinevere out and find Merlin and have him cast some sort of memory spell on her?

  “You are a woman. I have never met a man who is not attracted to me, except for you. I thought perhaps you already had some sort of lover—there are rumors about you and the Lady of the Lake, you know—but this makes even more sense,” Guinevere said. She smiled. It was the winning one she used whenever she tried to sway a man’s mind. “Take me with you, or I shall tell my father what you really are.”

  Britt’s fear disappeared, burning like dry twigs from the fire of her rage. “I beg your pardon?”

  “If you do not take me back to Camelot, I will tell my father that you are a woman. Word will spread around Britain in a year, and you’ll be ruined,” Guinevere said.

  Britt could hardly believe it. She had been right to hate Guinevere all along. After she had just saved her from Maleagant, the brat had the audacity to make threats? “Do you really think that threat frightens me?” Britt asked. (It did, but it affected the small part of Britt’s mind that wasn’t completely infuriated and thus was easily forgotten.) “I just defeated a duke not only in swordplay, but jousting as well. I singlehandedly drove o
ff an enemy your father was too frightened to confront. I have been through a war, broken off powerful enchantments laid upon my men, and survived an attempt against my life. Do you really think the hissings of one silly girl will move me? Please, I am not your father,” Britt scoffed.

  Guinevere swallowed. “I’ll tell Merlin.”

  “As if he didn’t already know,” Britt laughed. “He’s a wizard. If you think he doesn’t know, you are even more simple-minded than I estimated. No, most of my powerful friends know of my secret, princess. Tell me, have you ever made yourself an enemy out of a faerie enchantress? I’m certain Nymue, the Lady of the Lake to whom you previously referred, would love to take you on. She dislikes stupidity just as much as I do.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Guinevere said, tucking her chin like a mulish pony.

  “You are. You are thoughtless, self-centered, and your idiocy is in abundance if you think threats will force me to bow to you,” Britt said, taking a step closer to Guinevere.

  She towered over the princess, and the distaste in her eyes and the dark tilt of her head made Guinevere stumble backwards.

  “Your enemies will care. King Lot, King Urien,” Guinevere said, backing up until her back was flush against the door.

  “So?” Britt asked. “I have their sons. And just because you tell them does not mean they will believe you. After all, whom will they trust more: the sniveling daughter of a coward or the red dragon who faced them in battle?”

  “Please,” Guinevere whispered.

  “So now you’ve moved on to begging?”

  “Please, don’t leave me here,” Guinevere said, tears filling her eyes. She wasn’t acting anymore; her face was an unbecoming red color and pinched in the same expression she wore the night Britt found her in the garden.

  Britt sighed and turned away. “Leave me, and tell no one of this,” she said.

  “You don’t understand. I am the fattened calf my father will use for his ambitions. Can’t you have mercy on me?” Guinevere said, grabbing Britt’s arm.