The knight raised his sword for a blow, and the lady shrieked, "He yields! We yield!"
The knight slowly lowered his sword and then turned to face the lady. "Do you indeed yield to me, my love?" The lady stared at the knight blankly and did not reply. The knight continued, "Oh, yes, I know you, your highness. Did you think I came upon you by accident? I have waited many years for the day when I should be able to make you mine."
"Who are you?" she whispered.
"All in good time, my dear. You shall learn to know me well—indeed, to love me—as we grow old together in my castle."
"I shall do no such thing. I am already married."
The knight laughed harshly. "Just as you were when Lancelot was still at court. You are not famous for your faithfulness to your husband, you know. I think you will grow to love me as well. Now that Lancelot is gone, I am the greatest knight in England. But you will see. For now, you will come with me."
The lady blushed a fiery red at this speech but said, "I will not."
"Then I shall truss you like a pig and sling you over your horse's back. It might even be fun." He turned back to Sir Kai, whose face was gray with pain, and raised his sword again. "Goodbye, Sir Kai."
Sarah reached for her sword, but before she could unsheath it the lady screamed, "Wait!" The knight hesitated, and the lady hurriedly continued, "I will go with you without a struggle, but on one condition: you must bring Sir Kai with us, and when we reach your home, he must see a doctor."
"No, Gwen," Sir Kai said, trying again to stand and failing.
The knight paused, then lowered his sword. "All right, but not because I care whether I bring you home bound or free. I let him live only because you must learn to love me, and it might complicate matters if I begin by killing your husband's brother."
Sarah let go of her sword and shrank behind the bushes. If she thought she could have killed the strange knight, she might have tried to attack him from behind, but he wore armor, and she realized that she didn't even know where to strike. The knight removed Sir Kai's armor and threw it into the shrubbery, keeping his sword, and then, with the lady's help, bound up Sir Kai's bleeding wound and hoisted him onto his horse. By the time they were done, Sir Kai looked about ready to faint, but then he sat up straight and said in an abnormally loud voice, "Your villainy will not go unpunished! When word gets to King Arthur at Camelot that his queen, Queen Guinevere, has been taken prisoner, you shall be hunted down like a dog!"
The strange knight laughed. "And how do you expect this news to get to Arthur? Do you think the field mice carry tales? No, when the two of you fail to appear at the court, Arthur will no doubt suppose that his wife has run off with another lover." He laughed again, harder this time. "But how delicious, dear Guinevere! He'll believe that you betrayed him with his own brother! Yes, it's a very good notion not to leave Sir Kai's body to be found by Arthur's men. Come along!"
Sir Kai only said, "Camelot, by the way, is south of Bristol."
This made the knight shake his head slowly. "I know where it is, Sir Kai. Are you delirious?" Then he led the way through the trees, back in the direction from which he'd come.
Sarah watched them go. So that was the Queen of England. Sarah's life in Mordecai's little wagon had seldom brought her into contact with knights and ladies, but even she knew of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. It looked as if she was going to find out more about knights now, because there was no doubt in her mind that Sir Kai had just sent her to Camelot.
***
In the years before the fires, as Sarah and her mother had traveled around England with Mordecai, Purveyor of Fine Cloth, they had been to Bristol at least once, but in those days Sarah had never paid any attention to roads or directions. She had developed her sense of direction considerably since February, but her ability to find her way through the woods surrounding the hamlet of Milrick was not enough to guide her to Camelot. If Sir Kai had only pointed in the direction of the court, she thought, she could have found her way, but telling her that it was south of Bristol was no help at all.
She had to have directions, which was more difficult than it sounded since she trusted no one in the neighborhood. In fact, she had stolen food from most of the villagers, which might make it awkward to ask them for help. The only person she could approach, Sarah decided, was the old woman of the woods.
Sarah had discovered the old woman in February, after dark on her third night alone in the forest. Finding the old woman had saved her life, in fact. By that time, Sarah was faint from hunger and frozen to the bone. Creeping through the icy forest, Sarah had seen a light and, investigating, had come upon a small cottage hidden away in a dense part of the woods. In a small yard in front of the cottage, an aged woman and a cat sat by a large fire, eating bread and meat. As Sarah watched, the crone stood up, stretched, and said, "Time for bed, Jeffrey. Shall we leave the rest of this food out here for our forest friends?"
The woman and the cat retreated into the cottage and shut the door, leaving half a loaf of bread and a slab of meat on a flat rock by the fire. Sarah waited for what seemed like an hour but was probably only a few minutes, then dashed out, grabbed the food, and retreated into the shadows. No one came out, and after waiting another few minutes Sarah slipped out of the woods again and warmed herself by the still burning fire.
The next night the woman left a whole loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese, but of far greater importance was her second offering, a thick old woolen cloak that she left hanging on a branch outside. The crone wore a different cloak, so this was obviously her spare. She didn't need it, and Sarah most definitely did, so she took it. The cloak had undoubtedly kept her alive through the winter, but nevertheless it was the only one of Sarah's foraging raids that bothered her conscience. She had no compunction about stealing from the villagers: they had stolen her mother and guardian from her, after all. But the old woman was not from the village and had not been by the fires that horrible night, and now that spring had come, Sarah had been thinking about returning the cloak anyway.
It took Sarah a little over an hour to get to the crone's cottage, frustrating for Sarah in that she suspected that time was precious. The sooner she delivered her message to King Arthur, the sooner he could send his knights to save Sir Kai and the queen. When she came to the cottage, though, she hesitated. After three months, avoiding all human contact was a hard habit to overcome. At last, taking a deep breath, she stepped into the yard before the old house and called out, "Hello?"
There was no answer. Sarah called again, then crossed the yard to the cottage and gently tapped on the door. She looked in the window, and finally went inside. No one was home. Sarah sat disgustedly on a rock by the outdoor fire pit and waited, while the strange knight was no doubt leading his captives miles away, or perhaps hiding them somewhere where they'd never be found. To pass the time and vent her frustration, Sarah drew her sword and practiced long, level swings just at neck level.
"I never thought I'd see that cloak again," came a crackly old woman's voice from behind her.
Sarah whirled around, suddenly self-conscious of the sword in her hand, but the crone paid no attention to it. "I'm sorry," Sarah said, panting from her exercise. "I didn't see you coming." She quickly sheathed the sword and removed the cloak. "I've come to return the cloak to you, ma'am. I know I shouldn't have taken it, but I was so very cold, and you left it—"
"I left it for you, dear. Along with the food."
"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed. "Then you saw me?" First Sir Kai, now this old beldam. Evidently Sarah wasn't as quiet in the forest as she had thought.
"Only that first night," the old woman assured her. "After that, I never saw you at all. The only way I knew you had been near was when the food I left out for you was taken. By the by, dear, have you been eating enough? You haven't taken as much recently."
"Yes, ma'am," Sarah said politely. Then, mindful of her errand, she said, "Thank you so much for the cloak. It was most thoughtful of you to leave it for me. Bu
t that isn't the only reason I've come. I need help."
The old woman nodded. "I will do what I can, little princess."
Sarah swallowed, momentarily distracted. "Why did you call me that?"
"That silk dress, of course," the old woman replied. "It's fit for a princess, isn't it?"
It was what Mordecai had said when he gave it to her, and Sarah set her jaw grimly. "What I need," she said resolutely, "is directions to Camelot."
The old woman frowned. "No, child. That won't do the trick at all."
"I must see King Arthur as soon as possible."
"But what do you think he will be able to do for you?" the crone said, shaking her head slowly. "He has to stay within the rule of law. Is that what you want?"
Sarah was confused. What was the old lady talking about? Did she already know about Sir Kai and Queen Guinevere? "He can send knights! Surely that won't be against the law."
"The king cannot deal vengeance," the crone replied. "It's a pity, but there it is."
Sarah frowned at the woman in consternation. "You're saying he can't even rescue his own queen?"
The old woman's head jerked up, and for a second her wrinkles and loose skin seem to fade, and Sarah could almost see the beautiful woman that she must have been years before. "What's that? Guinevere?"
"Yes, and Sir Kai."
"What's happened to her?" the crone demanded sharply.
"That's what I've been talking about! What did you think I meant?"
The old woman hesitated. "I assumed you had some grievance to take to the king. That's what most people want from him. But go on! What of the queen?"
"She and Sir Kai were passing through the forest this morning when a knight came on them, drove a spear through Sir Kai's leg, and took them both away."
The old woman's face grew hard, and again for a second seemed less ancient. Then she said, "You'd better tell me from the beginning, every detail."
"But shouldn't we hurry?" Sarah protested. "So that the king's men can get on the road at once?"
"You're three days from Camelot, child. It is already too late for a pursuit. All that is left is a search, and for that we must know everything that happened. Tell me, and don't leave anything out. We'll leave at first light tomorrow."
"And then we'll have to walk for three days?" Sarah asked with dismay.
"Walk? No. That would take a week. Tomorrow I'll take you to a castle where you may get a horse and an escort, and you'll ride the rest of the way. Now tell me what happened, from the beginning."
So Sarah did.
II
BELREPEIRE AND CAMELOT
"There it is—Belrepeire," the old woman announced, stopping at the top of a small hill. "We've made better time than I'd hoped."
Sarah struggled up the hill and sank gratefully to the ground at the crone's feet, too weary to cast more than a cursory glance at the castle in the valley before her.
"You're not tired, are you?" the old woman asked mockingly. "I was so afraid that I'd slow you down."
Sarah didn't bother to reply. She had long since regretted her self-important words that morning—was it only that morning?—when she had suggested that the old lady should just give her directions and let her go on alone, because Sarah could make better time without having to wait for an old woman. The woman had laughed and said nothing, but from the moment they left Sarah had been scrambling to keep up with the crone's long, mile-eating stride. That whole long day she had walked behind the woman, sometimes having to break into a run just to stay within twenty yards.
"Now," the crone said, after a moment, "let me know when you catch your breath. I have some final instructions for you." Sarah inhaled deeply once, then met the old woman's gaze and nodded. "That's right," the woman said approvingly. "Now, listen. Belrepeire is the home of Sir Parsifal, one of King Arthur's most loyal knights. He will give you a horse and, doubtless, escort you himself to Camelot. You will tell him everything that happened to Kai and the queen, but—listen to this, child—tell no one but Sir Parsifal himself. You must speak with him privately."
"Why don't you tell him? He's more likely to listen to an adult anyway."
"I'm not going with you, child. I have other matters to attend to."
"You're leaving me?"
"Don't worry. Parsifal will take care of you."
"I'm not worried, and I can take care of myself," Sarah replied automatically. "But what if Sir Parsifal won't see me?" It was hard for Sarah to imagine that a great knight would give a private audience to a homeless girl in a ragged cloak arriving alone at his castle.
"Tell him that the sister of the enchantress sent you. He will do whatever you ask."
Sarah's eyes widened. "Your sister is an enchantress?"
"Was an enchantress," the crone replied. "She's dead now, or so we all hope. Do you understand what you must do?" Sarah repeated her instructions, and the old woman nodded. "Very well. Mind that you speak to no one at Belrepeire except Parsifal himself. And at Camelot, tell only the king. No one else. Now, do you have any questions?"
Sarah shook her head. "Thank you," she said suddenly. "I don't know if I'll see you again, but—"
"You'll see me again, princess," the woman said confidently, and then she strode briskly away, heading north.
Sarah gathered her aching legs beneath her and stood, adjusting her sword under her cloak as she rose, then walked down the hill toward the castle. She wished that the old woman had stayed with her long enough to present her to this Sir Parsifal, but she reminded herself that when she had set out on this journey she had expected to go alone to the gates of Camelot itself, and that would have been even harder. As she neared the castle, the great portcullis at the castle gate began to descend. "Wait!" Sarah cried out, breaking into a weary run. "Let me in before you close that!"
The portcullis stopped, and a helmeted head appeared from the front gate, looking around. Catching sight of her, a castle guard stepped out. "Good evening, miss," he said. His gruff, irritable voice belied the civility of his words. "What do you want?"
"I must see Sir Parsifal at once!" Sarah said with as much dignity as she could muster.
"Well, you can't," the guard replied.
"Tell him that I was sent by—"
"It don't make no matter of difference who you was sent by," the guard said. "The master's not here."
"Oh."
The guard turned back to the portcullis chain, saying, "And I can't tell you when he'll be back, neither."
"Why not?" Sarah demanded.
"Don't know." The guard resumed lowering the gate, and on impulse Sarah ran forward and threw herself into the castle just as the metal spikes of the portcullis came down.
"Here now!" came the guard's voice. Sarah scrambled to her feet and whirled to see the guard approaching her, anger in his face. At once she threw back her cloak and drew her sword. It came out quickly and smoothly.
"Stay where you are!" she commanded. She held the sword two-handed, as Sir Kai had shown her, and pointed it at the guard's nose.
He didn't seem frightened. Smiling unpleasantly, the guard stepped back to the gate and took up a long, wicked-looking spear with a thick shaft and a pointed axe at the top. "Now, miss, you wouldn't want to hurt someone with that skinny sword of yours, would you?" He planted the butt of the spear on the ground and leaned on it as a shepherd might lean on his staff. "Would you?" he repeated menacingly.
At the soldier's insolent tone, Sarah boiled inside and her eyes grew hot. Without a word, she swung the sword with all her strength at the spear, just below the man's hands. She intended merely to shake the spear and let the man see that she was serious, but to her surprise the sword cut through the stout shaft as if it were a twig, and the knight, overbalanced, stumbled and fell at her feet, still clutching the top half of the spear. Sarah put the point of her sword at the guard's throat, much as the strange knight had done to Sir Kai only the day before.
"I need a horse," Sarah said. "And I need a sack
full of food and a water bag, and—oh, yes—I need directions to Gamelot. Call out now and tell someone to get them ready for me."
The knight didn't seem able to speak, but it wasn't necessary. Other guards must have been watching, and a minute later Sarah was surrounded by armed soldiers, each with a spear pointed at her. She kept the sword at her captive's throat and repeated her demands, but none of the guards moved. Finally, one said to another, "What do we do?"
"Get me what I want!" Sarah replied, irritated.
There was a shuffling pause, and then one of the guards suggested, "Go get the smith's boy?" Another guard nodded and hurried away.
"I don't want a smith's apprentice!" Sarah snapped in exasperation. "I want someone who can make a decision and give me what I need! I'm in a hurry."
But nothing she said could move them, and she began to wonder if she had done the right thing by holding the guard hostage. She had no intention of killing him, of course, both because it was wrong and because she knew that if she did she would have to face the anger of all the others, but now she was committed to her bluff.
Footsteps approached from across the courtyard, and a firm voice called out, "Move aside, men." The guards made way to reveal a tall, muscular young man in a leather apron. "Good evening, my lady," the young man said, sweeping a courtly bow. "I understand you have a, ah, request to make of us. May I help?"
"I have to get to Camelot at once," Sarah said shortly. "I need a horse, provisions, and—"
The young man suddenly stiffened and interrupted her. "How came you by that sword?" he demanded.
"It's mine!" Sarah snapped back.
The young man looked into her eyes. "What has happened to Sir Kai?" he asked softly.
Sarah looked at him wonderingly, but did not answer.
The young man frowned for a moment, then said to the guards, "Leave us. Go back to your quarters at once."
The soldiers backed away, and the guard on the ground, finding a voice, or at any rate a whisper, said hoarsely, "Miss? I'm to go back to my quarters now, if it please you."
The Princess, the Crone, and the Dung-Cart Knight Page 2