Lancelot and the Wolf (13 page)

We finally reached the moat, the bridges and the wall. Guards stood in pairs at each end of the bridge and stopped Else from continuing by crossing their spears. They wore the gold and blue of Arthur’s colours, their tabards stitched with the insignia of an oak tree, a crown encircling the trunk. When I joined Arthur as a knight, he gave me the emblem of the ash tree saying, ‘Where there is oak, there is ash, my friend.’ The memory hurt.

“
Halt,” the guard said. “State your business.”

We had agreed I’d leave all the talking to Else. Too many people knew my voice, so I sat mute and she laid our case before the guard.

“
We are here to speak to King Arthur. My Lord wishes to challenge his right to join the Court as is his prerogative,” Else said just as I taught her.

The men should have broken ranks and allowed us through without further comment, instead they stayed still. The man spoke again, “If you are not a knight of our Court, you are not welcome here. Leave now and you can go in peace.”

Else fidgeted slightly but barely paused, “Since when are noble men unable to offer themselves for the King’s judgement? We are here to offer trial by combat so my Lord can prove his worth to the best of kings. We are not here to offer harm.”

I had not anticipated this, the thought of not seeing Arthur at all made my hands begin to sweat and stomach roll.

Else pushed Mercury forward, she leaned down from her saddle and the guard approached. The visor obscured my view so I couldn’t see what she did as he approached but suddenly he said, “Let them through, they are of noble blood and mean no harm.” I think she simply caressed his face.

I rode past and I stared down at the guard. His eyes were slightly glazed and he stood a little unsteadily, clutching his spear. He also sported an enormous erection. Someone would be having fun with his wife or whore later. I wanted to ask her what the hell she’d done to the man but couldn’t while in the walls of the keep. This new development in my companion worried me slightly. Her capacity for such magic came as a surprise.

The horses clomped noisily over the bridge and we met with no resistance on the other side. I didn’t know whether the guard had been a jobs worth or if we would have a real problem seeking an audience with Arthur. We rode through the wide killing field and I hardly glanced at the training grounds for the squires and soldiers, forges and schooling rings for the horses filling the space. There were dozens of people moving around in this area, a hundred paces wide. We rode up to the main gate of the keep, offset from the front gate, so enemies could not run from one to the other easily. A huge arched entrance protected by vast oak and iron doors with a portcullis towered over the horses. The keystone at the top of the arch taller than Else. The cobbles under the arch were higher than elsewhere, helping keep the enemies footing unsteady. Arthur’s grandfather had been paranoid about attack. Once wet, these cobbles made difficult footing if you wanted to batter the doors down. I should know. I’d fallen on them often enough returning from the city too drunk to remember to be careful in the rain.

The guards at the final gate stopped us, just as I knew they would, “State your business,” came a gruff voice. I knew the man, a good sergeant who had served Arthur for years. Why he stood on guard duty concerned me, this was a job for men below his rank.

“
We come to declare a challenge to King Arthur, so my Lord can prove himself in open combat as worthy of Camelot,” Else’s voice rang out. As a woman, she had a deep voice, as a man, the sweet tones sounded almost wrong. Or maybe my own knowledge of her status made that true.

I watched the scarred face crease in a deep frown, “If your Lord wishes to join Camelot then he should declare himself openly and not as a Black Knight.”

Else stared down at the man, “His reputation is such the King will want him without testing his worthiness. My Lord has no wish to curry favour in such a way.”

The sergeant sighed heavily as he looked at me, “Fine, but I’ll take you to the King myself and God help you.”

I almost asked why we would need God’s help but the sergeant moved off before I spoke. Just as well, I supposed but something felt off about Camelot and it made me nervous.

We walked into the great courtyard and two boys appeared to hold the horses. We dismounted. My feet hit the stone and I clinked loudly. Ash bit the boy holding him the moment he realised we weren’t fighting and proceeded to make life difficult for everyone in kicking distance.

“
That’s a fine horse,” said the sergeant as he watched Ash’s antics.

Else replied, “My Lord has taken a vow of silence until King Arthur accepts him in his Court.”

The sergeant shook his head, “Damned foolishness.”

I took the banner from Else and she fell into step behind me. The sergeant walked ahead and we entered the main part of the keep. Granite steps led the way to a set of doors almost as large as the front gate. We went through the open doors and into a vast entranceway. Once more, this area had been prepared as a killing ground. A high stone balcony ran around the top, a place for defenders to fire down into the hallway. The whole space remained almost bare of furniture but for huge tapestries of hunts and stories from myth tumbling down the walls. There were many doors off this room, but no obvious access to the upper levels. All the stairways were through more doors, again creating killing grounds for defenders.

We walked to the back, the heavily decorated doors the only indication we were heading for the throne room and council chamber. I felt both calm and thrilled with anticipation at seeing Arthur again. I had missed him so much for so long. I only hoped Geraint would be there too, seeing my friend would steady my nerves. There were two more guards on the doors, who opened the portal ready for me to see my King.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The doors swung inward silently. I stood, waiting for the sergeant to announce us. I had seen this ceremony done a dozen or more times over the years as new men came to fight with Arthur. I looked into the chamber through the limited vision of my helmet and smiled because it hadn’t changed in all the months I’d been denied entrance. Unlike many of the other rooms inside the keep, this room glowed with light. Arthur, wanting to stamp his reign firmly on the Court, changed its interior almost as soon as he ascended the throne. Vast columns ran through the long room, forming great fan vaulting over our heads. In the centre of each fan sat a stone boss, representing each of the knight’s and their coat of arms. I wondered briefly if mine were still close to Arthur’s, then decided I didn’t want to know. To see it defaced or gone or worse, replaced, would hurt too much. The floor remained clear of rugs and rushes, polished granite reflected more light from the huge arched windows Arthur punched through to the outside. A cloisters type walkway ran around two of the walls, one at the back the other to my right, for private discussion and meetings. Stained glass in some of the windows gave the floor beautiful coloured puddles. Four rows of columns made the room appear wide and tall. There were tables along the walls and chairs but they were used for banquets. Arthur’s stone throne sat in the centre, hidden by the throng for the moment. He only used it for high ceremony, preferring to mix with his people.

The room held many of my friends and enemies. A low level hum came from their conversation. All the men wore swords but none wore armour. Women graced the room in flowing gowns, sitting on couches doing the things women do, lute, stitching, talking. None would hold a sword and defend my back like my Else.

I didn’t see Arthur until the sergeant spoke, “Your Majesty, I am here to announce the arrival of a Black Knight. He wishes to ask for the right to fight for his place in your Court as an anonymous petitioner.” The man’s voice boomed over the crowd, just as it would in the training yard. I’d never understood how a good sergeant manages to make his voice heard over the cacophony of a fight, but you never fail to understand them.

The crowd instantly stilled and parted. They revealed the throne and Arthur. My breath hissed out of me in shock. The man before me was not the King I knew. A table stood on the raised dais, a large flagon of wine with a glass beside it, half empty. Sext had yet to be called, the sun still in the eastern half of the sky. Geraint stood to the right of the throne, his expression grave and worried. Arthur, his bright blonde curls in lank tangles, rather than their normal short tight ringlets, lounged on the mighty stone chair. We walked forward. I realised his face looked puffy, his eyes red rimmed and his hand shook when he reached for the wine. The clear blue eyes of the man I adored were dirty and faded. I had never seen Arthur like this, me yes, without his influence to steady me, but he had always been the strongest of us. He looked so weary.

Arthur rose slowly and walked down the dais steps toward us, the sergeant and Else dropped to their knees. I stayed perfectly still.

The blue velvet doublet Arthur wore, which must have matched the colour of his eyes once, appeared crumpled and stained. He approached slowly, his expression grimly amused. I smelt the wine on his breath.

“
So, you have come like so many before you to present yourself to me for combat. Believing you have the right to join Camelot,” he said turning and sweeping his arm out in a gesture of grandeur.

“
My Lord has taken a vow of silence, your Majesty. Until he has won the right to bear arms as your man he will not speak,” Else spoke clearly with her head facing the floor and eyes downcast.

“
Arthur,” Geraint said, walking forward. “Maybe you should ask the knight in private why he would want to present himself to Camelot. Perhaps he would talk to you then and there would be no reason to fight.”

My friend told me that Arthur was in no condition to fight, as if I needed the warning. Else looked up at Geraint sharply and he stared at me with pleading eyes. He did not want me to challenge Arthur. My King however had other ideas.

“
You,” he stabbed a finger in Geraint’s direction, “are a fuss pot. I,” he pointed a finger at his own chest, “need a man able to fill that gap.” He pointed directly upward.

I knew what sat over the spot in which we stood. My boss, my coat of arms. I knew without looking it no longer existed. One of the original four, which radiated from his own coat of arms over the throne, it now sat in some stonemason’s yard broken and destroyed.

Arthur turned back to me, “Do you think you are worthy of Camelot, Black Knight?” he hissed with real menace. “There are things in this Court which break men’s hearts and minds. Things which tear at the soul in the dark of the night. Things which make even a king beg for mercy. Do you still want to be a part of my world?”

Seeing the pain in Arthur, so clear and so blatant almost broke my resolve. I wanted to raise my helmet and beg for his mercy. I wanted to take him in my arms and hold him until he stopped hurting. I had never seen my friend like this, darkness oozed from his eyes and the Court shifted uncertainly.

“
My Lord,” Else said before I did anything stupid, “will prove his worth on the tourney field. All he begs in return is the right to speak with you, alone, when he wins. You may pick any one of your champions to face him, so long as he speaks with you once it is over.” She modified what we had planned to say, clearly trying to help Geraint force Arthur into making one of the others fight me.

Arthur laughed, a terrible sound dripping anger, “The King of England is not a worthy opponent? Is that what you are saying, squire?”

Else looked up shocked, “No, your Majesty, that is not what I am saying at all. It would be an honour to face you on the field.” She had no choice but to give Arthur what he wanted.

“
Good, then we fight, this afternoon,” Arthur announced.

A ripple of noise seeped around the room. Kay, another friend, stepped forward, “I believe the Black Knight would rather face you in the morning, Sire, when you are both fresh.”

Arthur turned to Kay, “You mean when I’m sober.” I watched my friend’s face blanch as Arthur’s bitterness ripped into his heart. “Stop trying to manage me, my Lord Spencer. There is only one man I would choose to face this Black Knight and he is not here, so I shall do it.”

He meant me. I would have fought in his place. It was my right as his champion, until the Queen stole me from my Lord. Then Arthur had to ask Guinevere’s permission to use me for these games. A joke that grew sour over the years.

“
Sire, I am happy to fight in your place so the Pendragon line comes to no harm,” Kay persisted. “We cannot risk you against an unknown opponent.”

This was perfectly true. Arthur however did not see sense and Kay was always sensible, “Bollocks, if you faced him, Kay, he would win and Camelot’s honour would be in tatters. At least I will present him with a real fight,” Arthur snapped. “This afternoon, at Nones, we will meet in the tourney field.”

“
Your Majesty,” Geraint began.

“
One more word and I’ll start talking about treasonable charges because you think your King is weak,” Arthur said, talking to the crowd but looking at me. “I need a challenge and I need the hole in my heart filling,” his voice dropped until only Else and I would hear. “I need a man I can trust, Black Knight, are you that man?”

I opened my mouth spellbound by his sudden intensity to say yes, when he turned away and vanished from my vision.

“
You have the detail of our date, make certain to be there, knight,” he bit the words off. “We will see if you are worthy to call me, King,” Arthur swept to the back of the hall and vanished through a small door I knew led to his private chambers.