Knight Quest (Time Hunters, Book 2) (9 page)

“Shame on
you
for not knowing better!” said King Arthur. “Call yourselves noblemen? Riches and fancy clothes do not make a good knight.

“A knight must have special qualities,” the king continued. “Bravery, above all! Young Al…
Sir
Alymere, here, showed how brave he is. He fought men much older than him, on horses far superior to his. He did not flinch. He did not run.”

Al blushed and looked at the ground.

“And a knight must show manners and courtesy,” King Arthur said. “Why, when the squire's son, Percival, caused a lady to drop her basket of eggs, I saw for myself how Alymere helped her.”

Percival's friends and family started to grumble.

But King Arthur bellowed, “QUIET!” and they fell silent.

The king turned back to the crowd. “Sir Alymere has proven that he has all the values of a knight. He should be an example to you all.”

Then King Arthur handed Al the golden sword with the green amulet embedded in the blade. “You will need a weapon worthy of a knight, Sir Alymere. Take this sword and use it to serve your king and country.”

Al, holding his golden sword, was carried around the village on the blacksmith's shoulders. The villagers' applause was deafening.

“Feast! We shall feast tonight and toast our local hero!” the blacksmith shouted, setting Al down.

“Aye!” the washerwoman said. “Come along, ladies. We owe it to our champion, Alymere, to bake, stew and fry a meal fit for the king.”

As the delighted villagers started to drift away to prepare for the celebration of Al's knighthood, tears started to stream down the boy's dirty cheeks.

“Are you all right?” Tom asked.

Al wiped his face with his sleeve. “I just can't believe how lucky I am,” he said. “Thank you so much for your help, my friends. You're great fighters, both of you. And very brave.”

Isis sighed happily. “Yes, I am.”

“Maybe I could ask King Arthur to give you another go at being a knight?”

A grin started to spread across Tom's face. He was tempted for a moment. He thought about charging through the woods on a horse, jousting in a tournament, and meeting all the Knights of the Round Table.

Calm down and stop being stupid
, he told himself.
I don't belong in this time
.

But Tom simply couldn't stop thinking about what a great guy King Arthur seemed to be.
I wouldn't mind fighting for him. Being a medieval knight would be a whole load better than school!

When he looked over at Isis and Cleo, however, he remembered that they would never get into the Afterlife without his help. And of course he would miss Mum with her comfy hugs and silly jokes. Then there was Dad, with his stories about the Ancient Greeks and Romans and Egyptians.
Well, I suppose I might miss them a bit
…

“It's brilliant of you to offer,” Tom said, sighing heavily. “But no thanks. We'll leave the knightly deeds to you, Sir Alymere.”

“Well, I feel I should repay you somehow,” Al said.

“Actually,” said Isis, staring at Al's shiny golden sword. “There is one little, teeny tiny thing you could do for us…”

“Of course, my lady,” said Sir Alymere, bowing deeply. “You only have to ask.”

“That lovely green stone,” Isis said, pointing to the amulet. “It would look so pretty as a necklace.” She fluttered her eyelashes.

“It is yours, my lady,” said Al, gallantly handing her the gleaming sword. The amulet sparkled a bright, vivid green.

Isis eagerly grabbed the sword and tried to dig the amulet out with her fingernails. “Get out, you stupid thing!” she said through gritted teeth. But the amulet wouldn't budge.

Cleo wound herself round her mistress's legs, purring loudly.

“Good idea, Cleo!” Isis said, sucking her sore fingers. “You have a go!”

The cat dug her little claws under the glittering jewel. Finally, the amulet came loose. Isis grabbed it and held it up to the light.

“Thank you, Al,” said Isis. “You've been a true friend and a real gentleman.”

“But wait! Aren't you going to stay for the feast?” asked Al.

“Sorry, Sir Al. We've really got to be moving on,” said Tom. “But good luck fighting the Saxons!”

Tom, Isis and Cleo ran to the edge of the clearing. They stood in a little triangle.

“Here, Tom, give me your hand and take Cleo's paw,” said Isis. “Hurry!”

When they all touched the amulet, it began to glow. As the green light spread, wind whipped round their ankles. Growing stronger, it swirled through the meeting place, where King Arthur sat in his carved chair, flanked by his mighty knights, and villagers bustled about preparing for a feast.

Tom felt a familiar sucking sensation as the scene in front of him started to blur.

“Here we go!” he said, squeezing his eyes shut as they were whisked through the tunnels of time to the future.

Tom landed on his bottom with a thump. Opening his eyes, he saw that he was behind the art block – all signs of King Arthur and his knights had vanished. Isis and Cleo were sprawled next to him on the ground. Now they were back, her bronze skin had been replaced by the crusty yellow wrappings of a five-thousand-year-old mummy.

“Oh, bother,” said Isis, poking her bandages in dismay.

“Cheer up! We've got another amulet,” Tom said brightly.

Isis held the glittering jewel in her bandaged hand. “I suppose that's true,” she said with a grin. “Two down, four to go!”

That reminded Tom of something. He checked his watch. “Same date and time as when we left!” he said. Then he frowned. “Oh no! That means I've got double Maths next! I hope Anubis comes for the amulet before the bell rings. Double Maths is bad enough without a bad-tempered Egyptian god shouting at me.”

“Maybe he won't bother,” Isis said cheerfully. “Maybe the old dog has decided that since we've done such a great job, he will just let me kee—”

The sky suddenly darkened and a gale blew up. The branches of the tree next to the art block started to wave wildly, as if a hurricane was sweeping through the playground.

“Spoke too soon,” muttered Tom.

The ground began to rumble and shake, and then the enormous jackal-headed god burst through the wall of the art block. He walked towards Tom and Isis menacingly.

“Hand over my amulet, you greedylittle girl,” barked the god angrily, spraying specks of spit on Tom and Isis.

“Ugh. Say it, don't spray it,” said Isis, wiping the dribble off her arm.

“I see you still haven't learned anything, Princess Isis,” sneered Anubis.

“Actually, I've learned that a pig-boy can be braver and more gallant than a nobleman,” said Isis. “So there!” She stuck out her tongue.

Tom shook his head in dismay. Isis might have learned that having a title doesn't make someone better than everyone else – but she couldn't seem to get it through her head that being rude to the Egyptian god of the Underworld was a bad idea. Though of course her brains
had
been sucked out through her nose when she was mummified…

“I will teach you to respect your betters!” raged Anubis, his red eyes flashing. “You will give me the amulet now, or I'll send you straight back to King Arthur's England. I believe there's a vacancy for a pig-girl!”

“All right, all right. Don't get your loincloth in a twist,” Isis said grumpily, dropping the sparkling amulet into thegod's hand.

“Good call,” whispered Tom. “I can't really see you as a pig-girl.”

Anubis stalked round the children, like a jackal circling his prey. Tom felt an icy chill run up his spine as the god of the dead brushed past him. Cleo whimpered and pawed at Isis, her tail sticking straight upand quivering with fear. Only Isis didn'tlook scared.

“Your first two adventures have been nothing but a warm up,” bellowed Anubis. “But I'm through with this child's play.” He smiled nastily, baring his sharp, yellow teeth. “Your next challenge will be full of peril and will take you to the most dangerous time in hist—”