Knight Quest (Time Hunters, Book 2) (4 page)

“I know.” Tom said. But sometimes I feel a bit like Al around you.”

Suddenly a fanfare of horns rang throughout the meeting place.

“Listen! They're coming!” Tom said, beaming with anticipation. “I can't believe we're going to see King Arthur with our own eyes.”

The sound of jangling reins, clopping hooves and snorting horses could be heard getting closer. When Tom finally got a glimpse of the king's party, he gasped at the troop of impressive-looking men riding enormous horses.

“Look at those big, beefy guys,” he said. “I bet they're bodyguards.” Tom marvelled at the broadswords swinging in scabbards at their sides. The men were wearing gold-stitched cloaks and sitting in saddles bearing colourful coats of arms.

“Amazing,” Tom breathed.

Finally, a grey stallion trotted into the centre of the meeting place. Everyone moved aside to let its rider through. They all knelt on one knee on the ground.

“Hail the King!” the villagers shouted.

King Arthur leaped down from his saddle. He stood by the carved chair, surrounded by the sea of kneeling villagers. In place of the grand, strapping giant that Tom had expected, he saw a disappointingly short, bearded man. The king wore just a simple white tunic and dark trousers beneath a travel cloak that was utterly plain, apart from a narrow trim of white fur. His hair was short, messy and blond, rather like Dad's. He wasn't even wearing a crown.

“Gather round!” he said in a booming voice that seemed to make the entire village stand to attention.

A smile spread across Tom's face.
Now
he realised why this ordinary-looking man was a legendary hero. He could feel admiration pouring from everyone around him, as they hung on to the king's every word.

King Arthur cleared his throat. “What a fine and pleasant land God has given me to rule! Look at you, my admirable subjects,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

Everyone smiled.

King Arthur clenched his fist and thumped his chest.

“The sturdy, noble-hearted people of England are the envy of the world. Our green pastures and glorious forests are closer to heaven than any other realm.”

The villagers began to clap and whistle.

King Arthur held his hand high. “But wait! Even as I speak to you, there are tribes in Germany hatching plans of great evil.”

The horrified villagers gasped, like party balloons losing their air.

“SAXONS!” King Arthur shouted.

He said the word with such disgust in his voice that the room erupted into a frenzy of loud booing.

“Saxons have a mind to sail here and take this blessed land as their own. But I have every faith that even the humblest English farmhand will protect his home fearlessly.”

There was a rumble of agreement throughout the crowd.

“And that is why I am here – I'm looking to recruit one more knight to my round table.” King Arthur flicked his cloak back and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Men of my country, if you believe that you can defend our land, if you have a horse, and you think you are brave, then step forward now and take the challenges I set you. Remember! I will bestow this special knighthood on one man only – the winner!”

Tom and Isis exchanged glances. This was their big chance to become
honorourable knights
and find the amulet.

“Me! Me! I'm brave!” a young lad shouted. “I'll fight for King and country.”

“Me too!”

A throng of men surged towards King Arthur.

“Come on,” said Al, beckoning Tom and Isis towards him. “Let's get in the queue before it's too late.”

Isis's nose shot into the air so fast that her headband almost fell off. “Queuing? Pah! Princesses don't queue. I'm going straight to the front,” she said, marching off.

Tom grabbed her by her elbow and pulled her back. “Hey! You're in England now!” he said. “People wait their turn here.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Even Ancient Egyptian princesses.”

Tom pointed to Percival, who had barged to the front.

“You're not like him, are you?” Tom asked.

“No, definitely not,” Isis said.

With a sigh, she followed Tom to the back of the queue. She grimaced and wrinkled her nose. Cleo coughed and spluttered like she was choking on a furball. But queue they did – surrounded by villagers who smelled of everything from woodsmoke to sweaty feet.

Next to Al, however, stood a tall villager, who was clearly wealthy. His clothes were fine. The hilt of his sword was decorated with rubies. His teeth were almost white! The villager looked down at Al as though he was a bogey on the end of his nose.

Poking Al in the shoulder, he said, “Do you honestly think King Arthur is going to give a smelly pig-boy a second look?”

Tom watched Al's cheeks turn red. Al looked at his feet.

“And didn't you know you have to have a horse?” the snooty villager said.

Al looked up and grinned. “Oh, well, that's not a problem. I've got a horse; he's called Acorn.”

Tom and Isis nodded at Al encouragingly.

The man snorted. “Can you imagine what that animal looks like?” he said, slapping his thigh. “We'll have to call you Sir Stinkalot on his valiant charger, Dobbin!” He burst into peals of nasty laughter.

Isis stood on her tiptoes and stared angrily into the villager's face. “Ooh, you sneering, snotty, stuck-up…” she snarled between gritted teeth.

Tom could see Isis was so full of rage, she could hardly choose which insults to hurl at the man first.

“I'm going to make you wish you hadn't said those nasty things!” Isis shouted, aiming a kick at his leg.

The man was glaring down at her now. His hand was raised, ready to cuff her ear. Then he seemed to think better of it.

“I know,” he said. “Perhaps a day or two in the stocks, having rotten vegetables and stones thrown at you, will teach you how to behave.

Or, better still, I could arrange for you to have a go on the ducking stool. Yes! A plunge in the freezing river will cool you down. If you drown, at least we'll know you weren't possessed by demons. Hee hee hee! And if you live… why! We can burn you!”

The man reached out and grabbed Isis by her cloak.

“Put my friend down, you big bully!” Tom said.

Cleo hissed and scratched at the man.

“
That's
not how a nobleman's supposed to behave!” Al said, clearly horrified. “You let go of my friend now, sir, or I'll… I'll challenge you to a duel!” He slapped his fist against the palm of his hand.

The nasty villager, however, seemed tobe enjoying himself too much to take Al's threat seriously. “Out of my way, Sir Stinkalot!” he said, pushing Al aside.

Isis kicked out and wriggled. “Let go of me, you ugly old man!” she cried.

But no matter how hard she struggled, the man would not let her go.

Tom heard a growl that sounded like it was coming from a tiger… but looked down and saw it was really coming from a little striped cat. Cleo hissed at the man holding her mistress and sank her teeth into his leg.

“Ow!” shrieked the man, dropping Isis.

“Serves you right, you big bully,” said Isis, scooping up Cleo and stroking her fur.

“Gather round, men!” King Arthur shouted.

Tom, Isis and Al were standing among the group of would-be knights that had assembled in a grassy clearing.

Tom whispered in Isis's ear. “It was brave of you to stand up to such a meany, but next time think before you start hurling insults at people. No wonder you got into so much trouble with Anubis!”

Isis swirled her cloak regally over her shoulder. “A princess can say whatever she wants.”

“Shh!” Tom said. “Right now, you're a boy, trying out to become a knight. Got it?”

King Arthur beckoned everyone to him. “Come closer!”

They all shuffled forward so that even the men standing at the back could hear the king's deep, rich voice.

“To sort the true knights from the lily-livered hopefuls, there will be a series of contests,” King Arthur said. “First, we will have shooting, then lances, and finally sword fighting. You may choose your preferred method of combat, but you must supply your own weapons. We will begin in ten minutes.”

Tom thought about the armoury in the medieval room of Dad's museum. There were bows and arrows, swords, lances and spiked maces. Tom loved the shining suits of armour that knights wore, along with shields and tunics of chain mail that covered the head as well as the body.

“Knights fought with some really brilliant, deadly weapons,” Tom said to Isis. “But we're unarmed!”

Al turned to them, grinning with delight. “So, what are you two going to make, then?” he asked.

“MAKE?” Tom cried. “I'm rubbish at arts and crafts.”

“Don't fret, Tom!” Al said. “I'll help you pick a nice, sturdy tree branch. Makes a smashing lance, see? There's nothing to it!” He turned to Isis. “What about you?”

Isis picked up five or six sharp pieces of flint from the ground. “I know exactly what I'm going to make,” she said. First she cut a small triangle of leather from the top of her boots. Then she tore three strips of cloth from the hem of her tunic and plaited them together.

Al clapped his hands. “A slingshot! What a cracking idea, Isis! Are you any good?”

“Good?” Isis said. “I was taught to use one of these when I was just five by a general in my father's army. I can bring down a fast hare at a hundred paces!”

Al whistled in awe. Tom rolled his eyes. But Isis just strutted off to join those who were taking part in the shooting trial.

King Arthur blew a horn and held his hand high. “The test of your shooting skills will be a knock-out round. Contestants may use a bow and arrow or a sling. If you get shot, you're out. First, we'll have the short lad with black hair and that fine gentleman.” He pointed to Isis and then to the man who had complained that Al was stinky. “BEGIN!” commanded King Arthur.

Tom watched as Isis wedged a chunk of flint inside the leather triangle.