by W. D. Newman
CHAPTER 24
JUPITER
Luckily, there was a shipment of new tack down below the lodge that was not scheduled to be picked up for several days yet. After today, regardless of the outcome of events, that tack would no longer be needed by any riders at any outpost. Amos, Gabriel, and Marcus saddled the horses. Ben and Casey were able to mount without assistance, but Amos had to boost Louise, Merlin, and Hob up into their saddles. Unfortunately for Amos, Old Dan was still back on Camelot and none of the Faerie horses were big enough to carry him. He ambled over to the horse Casey was sitting upon. So tall was the big man, that standing on the ground beside the horse, he was able to look Casey straight in the eye. He reach beneath his furs and pulled out a leather string.
“I believe this is yours,” he said.
Casey took the charm off the string and attached it back to her bracelet. She held her arm up and the tiny arrow rotated until it was pointing at Marcus. She smiled at Amos. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you; I could never have found him in such a large city without it.”
“Is everyone ready?” Marcus called.
“One moment,” said Amos. “What am I to do with Arinya?”
“Bring her. Divide the three flasks among my horse, Gabriel’s and Merlin’s. I think I will place her in the lake that lies at the foot of the steps where Bellator has placed his throne. That way, if things do not go as planned, she will be his problem and not ours. However, if things do work out for the best, it will be a great place for her rehabilitation.”
Amos hung the water skins from the saddle horns.
“Come, now, let’s be off!” The Keeper’s horse wheeled, chomping at the bits, but Marcus held the reigns tightly and forced the spirited animal to walk. Gabriel followed behind the keeper, then Merlin, then Hob, and then Louise and Ben. Amos tousled Casey’s hair before her horse fell in behind Ben’s. He watched them move through the gates in single file and when Casey’s horse was out of the small courtyard, he transformed and trailed along after them.
The day was indeed beautiful and for some strange reason, everyone was in high spirits. Merlin rode with Marcus and Gabriel, who were leading the way to the city. The three talked quietly and laughed a lot, but occasionally their talk would turn to serious matters and Merlin would cast dark furtive glances over his shoulder at Ben. Amos walked along beside Hob’s horse, behind the wizard and elves, but it was Hob who was doing all of the talking. The dwarf prattled on about whatever popped into his mind and Amos, in the shape of a bear, would simply nod his great shaggy head and snort whenever the dwarf looked to him for confirmation and agreement on the topic of their discourse. Louise rode in the rear with her two grandchildren and reminisced of her childhood days on the farm. They were happy days. They were simple days. They were bygone days.
By noon time they were close to the city, but Hob insisted on stopping and having a proper lunch. Since they were in no hurry, they unsaddled their horses to let them graze while they rested and ate their cold biscuits and ham; leftovers from the morning’s feast. Soon after eating, they saddled their horses and continued on their way. It was late afternoon when they crested a hill and came upon Jupiter, a vast city fortress that stretched across the valley flatlands.
“We are here,” said Marcus.
“The entire city is empty?” asked Ben. It didn’t seem possible that such a large sprawling metropolis could be empty. It was kind of eerie.
“Not entirely empty,” Marcus replied. “Bellator waits for us on the white throne.”
“Let’s be off,” said Merlin. “I wish to get this over with as quickly as possible.”
“Wait,” said Casey. “Merlin, no one has asked you this, and it has really been bugging me, but can’t you do something? I mean, you’re supposed to be some great and powerful wizard! Don’t you have a spell or something you can use against Bellator? Even a sleep spell, like you used against Zoltan.”
Merlin laughed. “Child, we are dealing with an immortal. Actually, we are dealing with the most powerful immortal of the twelve. To him, my most powerful magic is nothing but parlor tricks. I’ve done my part. I’ve kept Excalibur safe and have returned him at the appointed time. My part in this is over, but who knows what part any of us will play in the scenes that are yet to unfold?”
The wizard smiled at Casey and his black eyes glittered knowingly. He knew something. He knew something and he was not telling her. She didn’t know if she should feel relieved or worried, but she didn’t have time to contemplate it any further for Marcus clucked to his horse and they began their slow descent into the valley.
The gates to the walled city were gone. Marcus briefly told the others how Bellator had smashed them with a single blow. Amos had transformed back into human form and shook his head in amazement. He had seen the gates once before. How any one person could topple them with a single blow was beyond anything he could imagine.
“Let’s loose the horses here and turn them out into the fields,” said Marcus. “It is not terribly far from here to the city’s capitol building and we will have no further need of them.”
After the saddles and bridles were removed, Ben watched the great black horses race across the grassy fields. Whether they ran for joy or whether they sensed the danger that lay within the city, he did not know, but he envied them. Their lot in life was simple; carry a rider from point A to point B. They were loved and well cared for. They had no worries, no responsibilities, and no heavy burdens to keep them awake at nights. The same thoughts must have crossed everyone’s mind, because all of them stood and watched the horses until they were out of sight. When they could see them no longer, Marcus turned and started walking down the main thoroughfare. Everyone silently fell in behind him and began the slow, quiet march to the capitol building in single file.
Bellator was sitting on the throne as expected. The immortal did not rise when they approached nor did he speak when they assembled at the foot of the stairs before him. In an act of tactful diplomacy, Marcus came forward and respectfully bowed before addressing him.
“We have brought the sword as you have requested.”
“Bring it to me.”
“No. We will not.”
Bellator rose from the throne. “Then I shall take it.”
Marcus looked tiny and frail standing before the immortal, yet he did not yield. “No, you shall not. The sword’s master must freely give the sword to you, otherwise you will never possess it. You of all people know that.”
“I also know that if sword is laid aside, it may choose a new master. Excalibur’s current master does not have to present it to me, they only have to lay it aside and the sword will choose me for its new master.”
“How can you be certain? If he lays the sword aside, we have nothing to bargain with and you may kill us without regard, but how can you be certain the sword will choose you? Are you willing to gamble that after all of these years?”
Bellator mulled these thoughts over in his mind. The surest way to obtain the sword was for the current master to give it to him. Once he had the sword in his possession, he would perform a binding spell, so that it would never have another master. But if the sword did not choose him, he could end up waiting years, even centuries, before the sword finally made its choice. Of course, he could just kill them all and wait. After all, he had an eternity, but being so close to the sword, knowing that it was just within his grasp was more than he could bear. “Who has the sword?” he asked, at last.
Marcus turned and motioned for Ben to come forward. Ben walked up the steps and the others followed right behind him. The tension was thick and the atmosphere explosive. One wrong move and things would go from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. Gabriel’s hand rested upon the hilt of his knife, while the spell catcher on the end of Merlin’s staff glowed faintly. Amos was on the verge of transforming, the air around him shimmering brightly, while Hob was sizing up Bellator’s knee
caps for a strike with his axe.
“I am the master of the sword,” said Ben. He tried to sound brave, but his voice cracked. He swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat as Bellator looked down at him.
“Will you not give me what is rightfully mine?” the immortal asked. Bellator’s eyes were black, like those of a shark and, like a deadly shark, there were no emotions to be detected either in his voice or upon his face.
Ben shook his head. At the moment, his voice had left him.
“I am not accustomed to making bargains, but if you will give me the sword, I will grant you any wish that is within my power.”
Ah-ha! Ben thought. Here’s an opportunity we had not thought of. He cleared his throat and found his voice. There was now a dim glimmer of hope, but hope none-the-less. “I will give you Excalibur in exchange for this,” Ben said. “You will vow to never harm any living creature, here or anywhere, for all eternity. You will leave Faerie, and never return to this world or any other world that is inhabited by any form of life. That is my wish and the terms for any agreement that may be made between us.”
Bellator did not even hesitate. “No deal,” he replied. “I could kill you where stand and if the sword did not chose me for its new master, then I would simply sit here until it chose someone that would be willing to bargain with me. I will sit here until your bones turn to dust and blow away in the wind before I agree to those terms.”
Ben’s heart sank. He had thought for a second that they had found a way out. A way without confrontation, without risks, and without danger. They were going to have to proceed with their original plans. He mustered up his courage and threw down the gauntlet. “Then, would you be agreeable to a contest?” he asked. “A contest between you and me.”
“Go on,” Bellator prompted.
“It’s really simple. If you win, I will freely give you the sword. No strings attached. If I win, you must agree to the terms I put forth earlier. You must vow to never harm any living creature and you must leave and promise to never return to Faerie or any other world that elves, dwarves, and men inhabit.”
“You have piqued my interest, but in what contest could a child, such as you, possibly compete with me? I am the strongest of all the immortals. There is none stronger, save the Creator and I was here when he laid the foundations of this world, so there is none wiser, save Him. Tell me, you weak and pitiful mortal child, in what contest would you dare to challenge me, much less, ever hope to win?”
“It is a game,” Ben answered. “It is a game of war and strategy. I will pit my tactical skills against yours if you will agree to abide by the rules of the game and honor conditions set forth for the outcome.”
“I am bound by my word and I know that elves, as lowly as they may be, are bound by their word as well. However, from what I have seen of humans there is no honor among you. You are a people even lower than the elves. You lie, cheat, and steal. How can I know that you will keep your word and give the sword to me when I win?”
“You don’t know,” Ben replied. “You’re just going to have to trust me on that one.”
“Not good enough,” Bellator replied. “But here is something you did not know about Excalibur. It is true that if you die while the sword is in your possession, the sword will chose its next master and no one but the person the sword has predestined shall wield it. But if you lay the sword aside and die when the sword is not in your possession, then the sword is truly without a master and the next person who picks it up may claim it as their own. Therefore, lay Excalibur aside while we compete in this game and I will know your intentions to be honorable.”
Ben turned to look at the Keeper. Marcus seemed just as shocked by the news as Ben was.
“May I talk it over with my friends?” Ben asked.
“There is nothing to discuss, unless it be treachery. It is either yes or no.”
“How can I trust you? I mean, how can I know that you won’t just kill me and then claim the sword for your own?”
“You don’t know,” said Bellator, with a mocking smile. “You’re just going to have to trust me on that one.”
“Okay,” Ben replied, after a moment’s thought. “We need a table and two chairs. We’ll set them up at the foot of the stairs and, before we start the game, I’ll place the sword over there by the lake. Fair enough?”
Rather than acknowledge Ben, Bellator turned and went inside the building. A moment later he emerged carrying a table under one arm and a chair beneath the other. He set the table and chair at the foot of the stairs and then brought the white throne down for himself to sit on. The throne was probably the only chair in all of Jupiter that would accommodate his great size. Ben motioned for Hob to bring over the game board and pieces.
“Set the game up for me while I place the sword.”
Hob kept a wary eye on the immortal while he laid out the game board and set to work placing the pieces. Ben walked over to the edge of the water. At first he thought it rather odd that such a large lake was located in the middle of a city, but now that he had paused a moment to take in his surroundings, he realized that the lake was part of a park. There were trees, flowering shrubs, and flowers of every color along the shorelines. It was quite beautiful. He pulled the sword from the scabbard hanging at his side. The moonsilver blade caught the rays of the evening sun as Ben raised it above his head and then plunged it into the soft yielding earth. He waited for Hob to finish placing the pieces and then motioned for everyone to join him.
“Wait here, by the sword, while we are playing. I don’t need any distractions, so it will be best if I cannot see you. Keep it quiet too. That means absolutely no whispering, Hob.”
The dwarf yanked furiously on his beard. “You can do this Ben, I know you can. You are the best player in all of Camelot, better than Marcus even.”
The keeper smiled and nodded. “Hob is right. Your skill in this game is unmatched and I believe that if anyone can defeat Bellator, it is you.”
“I too believe in you Ben,” said Gabriel, “but what shall we do if you lose? Are we to give the sword to him as you agreed upon? To do so would mean certain death for everyone.”
“If I lose,” Ben whispered, “I will have to give the sword to him or he will simply kill me and try to take it anyway. We obviously can’t let him have the sword, so if I do lose, I will try to stab him with it when I present it to him.”
*****