The Iron Locket (The Risen King) (6 page)

Arthur raised his sword. "For all your bread, then?"

Lancelot's hearty laugh warmed Arthur's heart. In the eternal silence, no thought had come, but he knew then how much he had missed his dear friend. "If they serve us bread," Lancelot said. "With these faeries, I am a little worried what we will find on our plates when we walk into the dining hall tonight. It may be a human head, for all I can guess." He swung his sword lightly, forcing Arthur to bring his own blade to bear.

"I am not too concerned," Arthur said as his dull sword answered Lancelot's with a ringing clang. "They would not have called us from our eternal slumber if they did not need our help. They are not the best of friends." He parried another of Lancelot's lazy attacks and swung the blade up from underneath. "I get the impression the queens are fighting other battles, as well. There are some strange power struggles between them, despite their apparent equality."

Lancelot jumped back, barely avoiding the tip of Arthur's blade. "Yes," he said, swinging around to stab at his opponent from the side. "That Mab is a feisty one. She seems to be on the outs with the other three, but I cannot tell if it is because of a real argument or just her way."

Arthur's blade slid against Lancelot's, knocking it aside as he stepped back. He swung the sword around as he lunged, bringing it down toward Lancelot's shoulder. "She seems very abrasive, determined to get her own way."

"Much like your brother." Lancelot laughed as he blocked Arthur's blow and pushed him away, scrambling back a couple feet.

Arthur's gaze shot briefly to Kay, who was on the far side of the courtyard, engaged in a three-way battle with Percival and Balan. His only warning of the incoming blow was the whistling in his ear. He ducked quickly and the blade skimmed over his head, his hair blowing in the breeze it created.

Arthur clicked his tongue at Lancelot as he took a step back. "I forgot how ruthless you are, my friend. I should know better than to let down my guard."

Lancelot grinned at him and ducked away from Arthur's answering blow. "Ah, I did not even give you a shave. Nothing to worry about."

The two parried a bit longer in silence, their blades clashing and clanging together in easy, practiced blows. Neither put much strength behind their swings. They were simply playing at battle to get the feel back in their long disused muscles.

Lancelot called an end to the battle shortly, puffing loudly as he held up his hand. "I am done for now. My breath comes too quickly too soon. I hope the queens do not expect us to go into real battle just yet, as out of shape as we are."

Arthur could not agree more. "Yes, I feel the same. We are not ready for any battles. It will take us time to get accustomed to the rhythm once more and retrain ourselves. When we meet with them tonight, we will discuss it."

Lancelot nodded and headed to the shed to wipe down his leather cuirass and sword. Arthur remained in the courtyard, watching the various battles that were taking place. Kay bested Percival using an undercutting blow, but his guard was down against Balan and the young knight slid his own blade in to poke Kay in the side. Gareth stood watching the three-way battle and challenged the victor to a duel. Balan's twin, Balin, saw defeat at the hands of Bors, earning himself a bruised side and a small cut on the arm. Gallahad and Erec were victorious in double battle against Yvain and Gawain, the former grinning all the while as the thrill of battle came upon him for the first time in centuries.

Tristan, the quintessential loner, went to work rigging moving targets using some of the practice dummies and rope he found in the shed. By the time Arthur called an end to the practice session, he had three of the targets rigged to swing back and forth without any interference from the knights. Arthur clapped him on the back.

"Good work, Tristan. Ever the inventor."

Tristan smiled quietly and swung his arm around Arthur's shoulder. Together they walked back into the castle.

*~*~*

SIX

*~*~*

When the knights re-entered the main hall, they found the blond Queen of the South waiting for them. She had changed out of her flowing yellow dress into a pair of jeans, knee-high leather boots, and a simple long-sleeved shirt. She had her golden hair pulled back into a loose pony tail. The knights eyed her suspiciously.

"You will get used to the dress of this time period," she said, answering the aghast stares at her jeans and boots. "Women are no longer the more tender gender, as your lot used to say back in the day. They are powerful warriors in their own right." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Many even have the right to vote for their own leaders."

Jaws dropped all around and Titania's grin grew. She winked at them and turned toward the large staircase at the end of the hall. "Come. You will likely want to get cleaned up before you eat."

The knights stomped up the stairs, sounding like a herd of cattle on a barren field. When they reached the first landing, she paused. "There are three open doors on either side. Two knights per room. We did not pair you up, assuming you would prefer to match yourselves. There are two servants waiting in each room. Once you enter, tell them who you are and they will fetch your belongings."

She turned her attention to Arthur. "As king, you of course get the most lavish of rooms. It is up these stairs, through the double doors at the top." She pointed to the stair case they had just ascended. "Should any of you need anything, just tell your servants. They are at your beck and call. Most have been here long enough that they are beyond the boundaries of time and do not need sleep. Should you need anything that the servants cannot provide..." Her smile was cold. "Well, then you probably do not really need it at all. She bowed her head toward Arthur, then toward the other knights. "I will see you all after dinner."

With that, Titania walked swiftly past the knights and descended the stair case, leaving them to their own devices.

The knights turned to Arthur. He glanced at his own bedroom, secretly wishing he could simply stay with the knights, then waved a hand. "You know yourselves who you get along with best. I do not presume to force friendships on you." He smiled warmly and turned to walk up the stairs.

"Arthur." Lancelot stood behind him, the other knights hesitating as they began to pair themselves up.

"Yes, my good friend? What can I do for you?"

Lancelot's hand went to the empty space where his sword would be. He frowned briefly when he realized it wasn't there. "Would you like one of us to come up with you?" He lowered his voice. "Just in case it is a trap."

For the briefest of seconds, Arthur considered the offer, then he grinned. "No, I am sure I will be just fine. The queens would not have brought us back just to kill us. Besides, I believe we are already trapped."

Bowing his head in respect, Lancelot took a step back before turning to follow his son into one of the rooms. Arthur stood on the steps, watching his knights disappear from the hall. Clenching his teeth, he steeled himself, praying that it would not be a trap after all. He ascended the steps slowly, his fingers trailing across the cool stone of the stair well.

As he reached the top, he discovered a wide landing that was the home to several velvet couches, numerous windows, and two doors. One was a set of double doors, straight ahead. The other was a smaller door off to the right. He stared at the smaller door for a moment, wondering what hidden treasure or danger lay behind it, then focused on the double doors.

They opened as he approached, swinging inward. He stepped inside, holding his head high and his shoulders square. The room was enormous, taking up most of the third story of the castle. A fireplace large enough for Arthur to stand up in without crouching was along one wall, a roaring fire already built. It was surrounded by couches and chairs, all arrayed across a thick red woven rug. On the opposite side of the space was a big table with several chairs, suitable for taking meals or playing games.

The bigger room was split in two by a wall on either side that each extended a third of the way into the room. A thick red velvet curtain covered the middle third, effectively blocking off the other room. The curtain was pulled back so Arthur could see a large canopy bed on the other side, bearing the same red color for bedding. As he walked toward it, a man stepped out from behind the curtain.

The man was older, what few hairs remained around his temples were gray and his face was wrinkled, but when he saw the king, his ghostly eyes lit up. "Ah, my liege. Welcome home." He swept into a deep bow, nearly touching the floor. "I am Rogan, your humble servant, your personal valet. It will be my greatest pleasure to serve you while you are here." He rose, a genuine smile on his face.

Arthur returned the smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Rogan. I assume the other room on this floor is yours, then?"

"Indeed so, sire."

"If I may ask, how long have you served here?"

Rogan hummed as he thought. "Centuries, my liege. Five hundred, perhaps? After the first hundred years, one tends to lose track of time."

"How is it that you appear so solid when the others are more like ghosts?"

"Oh, well, that all depends on how content we are with our position. Some of us were forced into servitude here for one reason or another. I, on the other hand, volunteered. It is my greatest joy in life to serve to the best of my ability, and I am much happier, thus more solid, as you say, when I have a charge." He offered an apologetic smile before pressing on. "Would you like to get changed for supper? I have laid out an outfit for you already, if you do not mind."

Arthur smiled inside as he remembered the many valets he had in his previous life. He had a feeling Rogan would surpass them all. "That would be wonderful, Rogan. Thank you." Arthur stepped into the bedroom as Rogan closed the curtain behind him.

*~*~*

An hour later, Arthur found himself dressed once again in the finery of a king and seated in a large chair at the end of a very long, very lavishly set table. The knights were lined up on either side of him and barely a quarter of the table was filled. Foods of all sorts were arrayed on the table, catering to every possible desire the knights could have.

Female servants dressed in flowing gowns drifted from knight to knight, refilling goblets and plates whenever one seemed in danger of going empty. Many squawked eerily as Kay's grabby fingers found their rumps. The knights ate and laughed, recounting the most memorable and exciting times of their varied pasts. Some of the younger knights sat in awe as the older knights, dead before their time, recounted tales the youths had only heard rumors of. They listened with awe on their faces to hear the tales from the mouths of those who lived them.

The older knights were just as impressed when the youngsters shared their own stories. Having died before the tales even happened, they knew nothing of the deeds and were an excellent audience for their retellings. By the time the knights were done eating, their faces were flushed with the influence of wine and good company and their bellies were so stuffed they could barely move.

The door to the dining hall swung open, revealing the red-haired queen. She swept in, wearing an elegant blue dress that clung to her form in all the right places.

"I trust you have eaten your fill?" Her voice oozed sweetness as she walked along the line of knights, tracing her fingers along the backs of their chairs. They all murmured agreement as they watched her pass. "Excellent. Now we must move to the council room to begin planning how to take back Faery from the evil clutches of the wicked Leanansidhe."

The knights smiles turned to groans as they clutched their full stomachs and moaned about having to move.

"Come on," Oonagh said, ignoring their protests. "Chop chop." She clapped her hands and looked at Arthur expectantly.

Taking one last swig of his wine, he pushed his chair away from the table and rose, stifling his own groan. Seeing their king rise, the other knights had no choice but to do the same, though few did it with the same dignity as their noble leader. As a group, they stumbled their way out of the dining hall and into the council chamber, some leaning on each other more than others.

Inside the chamber, the other three queens waited. Four large wooden chairs had been set up, one in each corner of the room. Once the knights were seated, the queens also settled in, taking a chair in the corner respective to the corner of the land they ruled. When all the knights had taken their seats, several servants came in bearing more goblets and more wine.

The queens waited until the servants had left and the door was shut securely before speaking.

Titania spoke up first. "You will not have as much time to prepare as we had hoped. We waited too long to raise you and the war has escalated quicker than we predicted. Leanansidhe has been longing to get her sharp talons into Faery for as long as she has existed, but until now, she has not had the chance. My son," she spat the word as if it were bile in her mouth. "My son, Kane, has given her the opportunity to do so. He murdered my husband, his own father, and with it, he took his father's powers. Oberon was stronger than I, but I was smarter. Together, we made a formidable team. I cannot stand alone against Kane and Leanansidhe together."