by K. M. Shea
Britt suspected the disturbing sight was most likely a company of knights from Camelot, but she refrained from making any sarcastic observations. “Oh?”
“Indeed. Romans.”
Britt dropped her defensive stance for the moment, surprised by the news.
Merlin had always rambled on about Rome being a serious threat. She had never really believed him. She thought he was using it as an excuse to pick fights with other kings.
“Romans? Here in Britain?” She asked.
Maleagant’s father stood. “I’m afraid so. Ghastly rogues, trampling all over our lands and attempting to take what isn’t theirs.” He grimly shook his head. “In light of this revelation, I would like to conduct a meeting with you to discuss the defense of Britain.”
His announcement of Romans in Britain surprised her less than this second offer.
She narrowed her eyes. “You wish to discuss fighting Romans with me?”
Maleagant wiped a bit of blood off his nose, groaning loudly when he prodded it.
“I do. Though I would like a change in locations first. We may as well be reasonably comfortable while discussing such a grim topic, and someone really should see to Maleagant’s nose.” Maleagant’s father swiveled so he faced the soldiers. “You three, see King Arthur to my personal study. We will join you shortly, Arthur.”
Britt watched the father and son troop down the hallway. Before they were out of hearing distance, Maleagant’s father flicked his son in the head. “If you continue to get into scrapes whenever I leave, I will put a collar on you and drag you with me like a pet dog.”
Maleagant muttered something that sounded like a muffled variation of, “Yes, Father.”
Unbalanced by the surprising news, and still a little distrustful, Britt turned to the guards and raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, is his personal study code for the dungeon?”
The guards, seeming to lack the good humor of the soldiers who frequently guarded Britt in Camelot, stared at her. “This way, Your Highness,” one of them said, indicating the path that led deeper into the keep.
Britt sighed. “Into the rabbit hole then.”
Britt furrowed her eyebrows as she took careful inventory of the study where the soldiers had dumped her. (It was one she had viewed previously while looking for the armory.)
It was different from Merlin’s. It had far fewer scrolls and books, but more castle models and tapestries of battles. It smelled of smoke and leather, whereas Merlin’s always held a faint whiff of exotic spices.
She placed her back to a wall and glanced nonchalantly at the three guards, who were lined up by the door and staring at her. She tapped her fingers on the hilt of her sword—which, surprisingly, the soldiers had not taken—and straightened her stance when the door swung.
Maleagant stomped into the study, a green paste smeared on his swelled nose. Already he was showing signs of two glorious black eyes—complete with dark circles and swelling.
A bark of laughter almost exploded from Britt’s mouth, but she turned it into a croaking cough at the last moment. Based on Maleagant’s glowering expression, he knew she was chortling anyway.
Maleagant’s father was two steps behind him. He raised his eyebrows when Maleagant planted himself against the wall—his hand on his sword—then hefted his eyes to the heavens and slightly shook his head. “Come, sit, Arthur.” He seated himself on a wooden chair positioned in front of the cheerfully flickering fire.
Britt approached him, but after glancing at Maleagant—who tightened his grasp on his sword—she stood behind her chair, resting a hand on the back of it. “What is this about, sir…” she trailed off.
“Ahh, yes. While you are acquainted with my son, I don’t believe we have ever met. I am King Bagdemagus. I rule these parts.” King Bagdemagus nodded to her. “To be frank, Arthur, I would like us to join forces.”
Though she was shocked by the offer, Britt kept her reaction minimal. “Why?”
“When the Romans move, any land standing alone will not survive.” Bagdemagus folded his hands on his lap. “I have a few allies, but even if we band together, I don’t think it’s likely we will last long.” He tilted his head slightly and studied Britt. “You, however, have the most alliances, the best organization, and the highest position in Britain. If you call, your allies will answer. With all those resources at your disposal, I believe you and your alliances will survive.”
“Father!” Maleagant growled.
I wish Merlin were here…He always handled the political maneuverings. It made her nervous to be doing it solo. “We have been preparing for the threat of Rome for some time,” Britt said carefully. “But I admit I find your sudden offer…surprising.”
“You mean because I haven’t been your supporter?” King Bagdemagus grunted. “I never saw much use for your wizard’s decree of a High King who ruled over all of Britain, but the current situation has changed my mind. Divided, we won’t last. I will take an oath to you if it means saving my lands.”
“You cannot mean it, Father!” Maleagant protested. “He has insulted my honor.”
Bagdemagus scratched his graying beard. “I’m afraid you did that yourself when you kidnapped a lady of noble birth.”
Maleagant tucked his head and glared at Britt.
Bagdemagus continued, “You must understand, son, that being a leader means doing what is best for your people. Personal honor is important, but it doesn’t feed your army or protect your land. It is our duty to care for those in our charge, and that is far more important than any petty personal squabble.”
Silence ruled the study for several moments, and Britt awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. “I appreciate your frankness…”
“But you are hesitant,” Bagdemagus said when Britt spoke no further.
“It’s only,” she faltered, failing to think of a flowery way to speak her mind. Finally, she blurted out, “look, I know you’re friendly with King Ryence. He’s my sworn enemy, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”
Bagdemagus leaned back in his chair, making it creak. “That was the most disturbing part I failed to mention. The Roman soldiers in the area? They are all dressed in the colors of—and uniforms belonging to—King Ryence. I’m sure they mean for it to be a disguise, but only a buffoon would actually fall for it.”
“Is it possible they stole the uniforms as a ploy?” She asked.
“No,” Bagdemagus said with the bark of laughter. “There are far too many of them for that to be a plausible excuse. No, I’m afraid King Ryence has betrayed his own country and is helping the Romans of his own free will.”
“I see,” Britt said. When she was first crowned king, King Ryence had been the smallest threat to her throne. Ironically, he’d become the biggest pain of the century.
“Moreover, King Ryence and I have recently had a…parting of sorts.” King Bagdemagus glanced at Maleagant. “I was not thrilled when Ryence, some seasons ago, convinced Maleagant to attack Leodegrance while I was in Ireland visiting my wife’s relatives for the summer.”
“I told you, Father, it was to expand our kingdom,” Maleagant argued.
“Yes, I’m sure that’s what he told you and what you focused on,” Bagdemagus said wryly. “The truth is, Ryence has had an ax to grind with you, Arthur, and your allies since you were crowned. I think he became especially bitter when you rallied King Lot and King Urien to your side.”
Britt snorted. “Rallied might be a strong word.”
“Either way, Ryence’s abuse of both my absence and of Maleagant’s hard-headedness put a strain on our nonaggression pact. But inviting Romans into our country, hiding them so they may, assumedly, take over?” Bagdemagus shook his head. “I’ll not align myself with traitors and backstabbers.”
“Yes, that certainly does change things.” Britt smiled. “I am extremely interested in welcoming you as my ally; however, I’m afraid I must return to Camelot and share this news with my men. We’ll move against the Romans, but I cannot
commit to any sort of action without knowing more.”
Bagdemagus nodded. “I imagine you would like to talk to your allies and gather more information. If I might be so bold, may Maleagant and I call upon you in Camelot? I’ll send out my men to flush out more Romans and gather as much intelligence as possible before we join you, of course.”
Britt pondered the offer, trying to decide if there were any hidden threats to it. She was about to agree to it, then Bagdemagus added, “When we arrive, I will make certain that Maleagant apologizes to the Lady Guinevere. His conduct has been most dishonorable.”
“But Father,” Maleagant interjected. “He acted in dishonor towards me first!”
“Defeating you at swordplay and jousting has nothing to do with honor, and everything to do with being the better knight. It is high time you learn this.” Bagdemagus scowled at his offspring.
“A personal apology is absolutely unnecessary,” Britt said, anxious to kill the idea before it settled. (Even if Maleagant was as observant as a blind mouse, it was doubtful he would fail to notice Guinevere was not the girl he had kidnapped.) “I will pass along your apology to Guinevere myself. I’m sure she will be very happy to receive it. There is no need to call upon her when you visit Camelot.”
“As long as all is well between us,” King Bagdemagus said. He stood, groaning slightly as he rolled his shoulders back. “God surely brought you here today, Arthur. Thank you for hearing me out, and I look forward to a long-lasting friendship between our lands.”
“I as well,” Britt said.
“I imagine you wish to set out for Camelot as swiftly as possible, but I must encourage you to spend the night with us. The sun has already set. A night here should not delay you much. In the morning, we can see you off with a horse and proper provisions.” Bagdemagus looked pointedly to his son. His eyebrows furrowed when Maleagant stared at his feet and said nothing.
Catching on to his father’s ire, Maleagant said utterly unconvincingly, “Yes, please spend the night. It would bring us such joy.”
Britt rubbed her nose to hide her grin. “I thank you for your offer, and I believe I will take you up on it.”
“Excellent!” Bagdemagus smacked Maleagant on the shoulder. “Then tonight, to celebrate our new friendship, we will feast! Come, I’m starved enough to eat a bear.”
Britt followed her hosts from the study. Feeling smug, she almost leaped with glee. Not only did I manage to free myself from capture, but I snagged a new ally to boot! The reminder of the Romans dimmed her joy, but Bagdemagus’s change of heart gave her hope.
If he was willing to stand with her to stop the Romans, perhaps Merlin’s vision of a unified Britain was not too far off.
Chapter 4
Reunited
The following morning, Britt set out on her trip home feeling excessively smug. She smiled as she leaned forward and patted the neck of her borrowed gelding. The sun shone brightly overhead, and the air, though still chilly, held the promise of spring. She was so happy, she was almost tempted to start whistling.
Instead, she chortled to herself and glanced over her shoulder. “Come, Maleagant. You can’t be a good guide if you ride behind me.”
Maleagant glared at her from the back of his red roan horse. “I don’t care what Father says, you must know how to get home. How else did you find your way here?”
“It doesn’t really matter, does it? Your father said you had to come with me to the borders of my lands. Just think, this will be such a good bonding experience!” She chirped.
Maleagant nudged his horse into a trot and passed her. He scowled unhappily, amplifying Britt’s pleasure in their ride.
“Perhaps I should thank you for kidnapping Guinevere—though should you attempt to repeat that exercise, you will find the outcome far less pleasant.” Britt peered at the sky.
Maleagant, forgetting his injury, snorted through his nose. Immediately, his face stiffened with pain, and he gritted his teeth.
Britt didn’t bother to hide her smile. “In any case, if you hadn’t kidnapped Guinevere, I would not have so swiftly met your father and forged this new alliance.”
Maleagant’s eyes narrowed into slits.
“Really, you are responsible for this budding relationship between our lands.” Britt would’ve continued; she was mildly curious to see how far she could push him, and she was still irritated enough with him for the kidnapping escapade it seemed only right. But her fun was interrupted when the pounding of hooves reached her ears.
“Arthur! I say, Arthur!”
Though her soon-to-be rescuers were still out of sight, Britt felt confident enough they were her knights. She turned to Maleagant and gave him one last smile that was as innocent as a summer sky. “It seems my men have followed me here. If that is so, I regret to say your guidance back home will be unnecessary.”
Before Maleagant could respond, a man on horseback broke through the edge of the trees.
Taking in the blue and white barding on the dapple-gray horse, Britt scowled. “I’ve changed my mind. Take me back to your father. I’d rather be a captive than go home with him.”
“Arthur!” Lancelot shouted. “I have found you!” He pulled his horse back into a walk as Mordred, his gelding moving at a much more controlled pace, exited the forest at the same spot Lancelot had.
“Yes,” Britt said with zero enthusiasm. “I have already freed Guinevere. I’m certain she’s back in Camelot by now.”
“Guinevere?” Mordred asked as he joined their little clutch.
Lancelot shifted his gaze from Britt to her traveling companion and wrenched his sword from its scabbard. “You are Duke Maleagant! You dared to lay a hand on—”
“Guinevere!” Britt forcibly inserted. “And he did, but his father regrets Maleagant’s actions very much, and we are now allies.”
Lancelot’s brows shifted from being pinched with anger to furrowed with puzzlement. “Allies?”
“Br—Arthur!”
Britt’s smile returned as she saw Merlin—followed by Percival, Gawain, and Kay—gallop out of the trees on horseback. (Roen, Britt was thrilled to see, was tied to Percival’s saddle.) “Greetings, my closest companions!”
Merlin trotted his horse in a circle around Britt and inspected her from head to foot. “You’re uninjured?” He glanced at Maleagant’s magnificently bruised face.
“I’m fine. Maleagant found me after I freed Guinevere, but it was just as well,” Britt said.
All the knights in Britt’s rescue party blinked confusedly at her.
“I am glad to hear Guinevere is safe. I assume she is already on her way home to Camelot?” Merlin asked.
“Indeed,” Britt said.
Kay halted his horse so close to Britt they almost collided. He gazed suspiciously from her to Maleagant. “What is this all about, Arthur? Why do you ride with him?”
Britt sighed. “I’m afraid it’s a long story. But let me preface it with some bad news: there are Romans in Britain.”
“We know,” Gawain said.
“We stumbled upon a squadron of them as we made our way here,” Percival added.
“Were the soldiers dressed in King Ryence’s colors?” Britt asked.
The knights nodded.
“Then you will understand why I made a pact with King Bagdemagus, making him our newest ally,” she said.
“You what?” Merlin said.
“You made a pact with the father of the man who kidnapped…Guinevere?” Kay asked.
Maleagant kept his silence throughout the ordeal but angrily stared at the fringe of his horse’s mane.
“Bagdemagus made a very convincing argument, one I believe you will approve of, Merlin.” Britt slipped off her borrowed horse and approached her trained charger. Roen pressed his velvet muzzle to her cheek. “He said a divided Britain will fall before Rome. Moreover, he is quite angry with King Ryence for betraying our country. He requested that we become allies so we might stand against Rome together.”
/> Percival untied Roen’s bridle and handed it to Britt with a smile.
Merlin pressed his lips tightly together. “I’m glad he sees the wisdom in it, though I still reserve judgment.” He turned his attention to Maleagant. “I assume Bagdemagus must have your cooperation, however unwillingly it is given?”
“I will not bow to your beardless-youth-King,” Maleagant snarled.
“This ‘beardless-youth-king’ trounced you twice on the battlefield,” Gawain said.
“And again, it seems, more recently,” Percival nodded at Maleagant’s face.
“Perhaps he needs to go a few rounds with us knights as well, so we might remind him what chivalry and honor are.” Kay’s eyes glittered with barely reined in rage as he stared the duke down.
“Now, now,” Merlin said. “There’s no sense fighting between…friends.”
“If I might speak up on behalf of King Bagdemagus,” Mordred said, the calmest of the bunch. “He is an honest and rational man. You can trust in his offer of an alliance.”
“Oh? Is he acquainted with your family?” Merlin asked.
Mordred smiled enigmatically. (Merlin had been trying to weasel the secret of his birth and family out of the affable knight since he first came to Camelot.)
Merlin rolled his eyes, then slipped off his horse and joined Britt at Roen’s side as the rest of the knights continued to eye Maleagant. “Do you trust this offer of friendship?” He murmured.
“He seemed genuine, and he had no reason to lie. He caught me right after I pounded in Maleagant’s nose. He could’ve easily thrown me in the dungeons instead of playing politics,” Britt said. “Besides, I trust Mordred’s word.”
Merlin nodded and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “Your observations ring true with what I have heard about Bagdemagus. And if the Romans come, we will need every ally we can get.”