The Table of Less Valued Knights (19 page)

Conrad couldn’t deny that there was some truth in this. ‘So, what, you’re favouring him because you think he might be royalty? Since when does that matter to you?’

‘I’m not “favouring him”. I just think if we treat him well there could be something in it for us, when we find the Queen.’

‘Or we could end up dead long before then.’

‘Conrad. I’m not stupid. I was at the business end when he attacked me, while you sat up on your elephant and did nothing. But there’s no way that kid can actually fight like that without his magic sword, and I’ve got it.’ Humphrey pointed to Leila at his hip. ‘Right now Marcus is our prisoner. And he’s an asset, especially if he’s the Queen’s half-brother. I’m just saying that we should exploit that asset. Make him our friend, keep him
sweet, and if he can come in handy at the same time, so much the better.’

Conrad looked back at Martha, who was peering at them over the top of her book.

‘You’re still arming him.’

‘I’ll keep hold of the bow and arrows. I’m just giving him some lessons.’

Conrad shook his head. ‘I still think you’re insane.’

Humphrey was losing patience now. ‘It doesn’t matter what you think. I am the knight, you are the squire, and you do as I say.’

‘Do as you say.’ Conrad’s voice started to rise. ‘You mean make friends with him? Is that what you want? Can’t you see that I’m the one being loyal here, and he …’ Conrad pointed at Martha. ‘He … isn’t!’

‘It is not for you to question my judgement!’

‘Your judgement?’ replied Conrad. ‘Because you’re such a well-known judge of character? What about your wife – were you such a good judge of her?’

‘Do not bring her into this,’ warned Humphrey. He took a threatening step towards his squire, and Conrad flinched back, as if they didn’t know that Conrad could snap any of Humphrey’s bones with his bare hands. But before matters could escalate, Elaine poked her head out of her tent. Her hair was frizzy from the heat and she looked bilious.

‘What’s going on?’ she said. ‘Why are you two arguing?’

‘Humphrey’s decided to give Marcus archery lessons,’ Conrad spat.

‘Marcus,’ said Elaine. ‘Do you want archery lessons?’

Martha turned to her, surprised, as if she was only now aware that a conversation was taking place. ‘Archery?’ she said. ‘I suppose it would be useful.’ She resumed her reading.

‘See?’ said Humphrey, as if this proved something.

‘Oh, the assassin agrees with you,’ said Conrad. ‘What a surprise.’

Elaine emerged fully from the tent, modestly wrapped in a dark blue robe.

‘When?’ she said.

‘When what?’ said Humphrey.

‘When were you planning on giving Marcus these lessons?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Humphrey. ‘As we go along?’

‘I think it’s a great idea,’ said Elaine.

Humphrey grinned. Conrad looked betrayed.

‘Because we’ve got all the time in the world,’ said Elaine. ‘There’s no rush. No rush at all! I can’t think of one single other thing that we could be doing!’

Conrad and Humphrey swapped facial expressions while Martha calmly turned a page in her book, to another poem she would fail to read.

‘I could go back to Camelot by myself, you know,’ said Elaine. ‘Tell them how you stole my quest from the Round Table and then let it be hijacked by a runaway.’

This, Martha could not ignore. ‘What do you mean, stole from the Round Table?’

Elaine just turned and swept back into her tent.

‘What did she mean?’ Martha asked Humphrey and Conrad.

‘Your bastard asked you a question,’ said Conrad.

‘Are you jealous?’ Humphrey said to Conrad. ‘Is that what this is? You’re jealous?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Conrad. ‘Why on earth would I be jealous of him?’

Realising that there was no hope of getting an answer out of either of them, Martha got up and followed Elaine to her tent. She stood outside it and cleared her throat. ‘Do you mind if I come in?’

‘Do whatever you like, you always do,’ said Elaine.

Martha opened the flap of the tent. Inside the light was dim and the humid air smelt of tramped grass. Elaine’s saddlebags were open next to her bedroll, with a few dresses pulled out and
thrown to one side. She was digging her way through one of the bags, still dressed in her robe.

‘That’s not fair,’ said Martha. ‘I don’t do whatever I like.’

‘You never do a stroke of work, you just sit on your arse the whole time making daisy chains while the rest of us fuss around you …’

‘I’m a prisoner!’

‘I know. Though I imagine you err on the lazy side at the best of times.’

Elaine ran a hand through her hair. She looked as though she were about to burst into tears.

‘Would you like me to return when you’re dressed?’ said Martha.

Elaine shook her head. ‘None of these dresses fit,’ she said. ‘I’m too fat for them.’

‘How can you be too fat? You never eat anything.’

Elaine trawled around the bottom of the bag and pulled out a drab grey gown with laces down the front. ‘Forget I mentioned it. I’m sure this one will be fine. I can loosen it at least.’ She straightened. ‘What can I do for you, Marcus? You know it’s an insult to my honour that we’re alone in my tent together.’

‘You don’t have to worry about me.’

‘I know. I was joking.’

‘Oh,’ said Martha, disappointed that she wasn’t enough of a man to constitute a credible threat to a maiden’s good name. She pulled herself together. ‘What did you mean about Sir Humphrey stealing your quest?’

Elaine sighed. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. But you may as well know. Humphrey’s not from the Round Table.’

‘He’s not a knight?’ said Martha.

‘No, he is a knight. But he’s from … he’s from the Table of Less Valued Knights.’ Elaine felt doubly ashamed, for betraying Humphrey’s secret and for finding the secret shameful in the first place.

Martha thought back to the knight she had met in the tavern, who was so stinking and drunken and rude. ‘He can’t be,’ she said, in horror.

‘He is,’ said Elaine. She felt a wave of sympathy, for the naive child in front of her and for the damaged man outside. ‘Listen, don’t take it to heart. Anyone can see how much you admire him.’

Martha looked away, embarrassed.

‘There’s no reason for that to change,’ Elaine continued. ‘He’s a good man. It doesn’t matter what kind of knight he is.’

‘If he’s such a good man, why are you always shouting at him?’ asked Martha.

‘Am I?’ said Elaine, shocked. Then she composed herself. ‘You’re right – I have been taking out my own worries on Sir Humphrey. It’s not fair on him.’

‘I’m sorry this is so difficult for you,’ said Martha. ‘I know how important it is for you to find your fiancé, though Lord knows I have no idea why anyone would want to be married. Or …’ Suddenly she stopped, thinking of something – or someone. ‘Perhaps I do. A little. Anyway, it matters to you. I can see that. And I am very grateful to you for saving me before, when I was fighting Humphrey – when Leila was fighting Humphrey, I should say. I am not sure that I have thanked you for that. When all this is over, I shall see that you get the proper reward.’

Elaine smothered a laugh. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘But it’s very important that we find …’ Martha hesitated. ‘The Queen. I understand that your happiness depends on finding Sir Alistair, but the happiness of an entire nation rests on us restoring the proper monarch to the throne. You haven’t met Edwin. You have no idea. He is a beast. A stupid beast, which is worse. I’d sooner have Jemima rule Puddock than he.’

‘Those are fine words,’ said Elaine. ‘But I don’t think much of a queen who would run away from her country and leave a man like that in charge, just as I don’t think much of a page
who would do the same for a handful of stolen gold.’ Martha looked down at the ground, stricken. ‘And besides,’ Elaine continued, ‘Humphrey is
my
knight. If you want a knight to track down your Queen, you should go and get your own.’

‘I didn’t go and get Humphrey,’ said Martha, her pride returning. ‘Leila did. I had no choice in the matter.’

‘And yet you seem to have everything going your way,’ said Elaine. ‘That’s quite a useful skill you have there, manipulating others to get what you want.’

‘Something you would never do, of course,’ Martha retorted.

The two of them stood staring at each other, with the hot dissatisfaction of two people who fundamentally like each other but have nevertheless found themselves in a hurtful argument.

‘I should go to my archery lesson,’ said Martha.

‘Don’t want to keep Humphrey waiting,’ said Elaine spitefully.

‘Maybe if I learn to shoot, I can be of use, instead of, you know – making daisy chains.’

‘Maybe.’

Martha knew she should go, but hated leaving when things still felt so awkward.

‘Before,’ she said, ‘when I spun Leila and she said that she could help you. She doesn’t lie.’ Martha had no evidence for this, but she was certain it was true. ‘I promise you, as soon as we’ve found … the person I’m looking for … I will help you, Leila will help you. We’ll find your fiancé.’

‘By then it will be too late,’ said Elaine, now with more sadness than anger.

Martha picked up archery quickly, much to her own surprise as well as her teacher’s. The steadiness and focus required to shoot accurately came easily to her, perhaps a result of the patience she’d cultivated as a princess, always required to sit quietly, never to rush. On top of this, she had a natural eye and an instinctive understanding of how to find and adjust her aim. Humphrey was impressed, and Martha was delighted to have pleased him and to have finally found something she was good at. After only a few lessons he determined she was ready to have a go shooting at live targets.

‘You mean animals?’ said Martha. ‘Killing animals?’

‘That’s the idea,’ said Humphrey.

Martha felt suddenly sick.

He took her deep into the woods, leaving Conrad and Elaine behind in the clearing where they had camped the previous night. He stood close behind her, both of them shielded by the trunk of an old chestnut tree, scanning for prey. She could feel his breath on her neck. Was it this that made her hands tremble and sweat, sliding on the bow so that even if she did have it in her to kill a living beast, the arrow would disobey her? Or was it that yet again she was going to fail in her task of assumed masculinity? Or was it both: his proximity, and the certainty of disappointing him?

‘I can’t,’ she said miserably.

‘Yes you can,’ said Humphrey. ‘You were doing fine on the targets.’

‘This is different.’

‘No it isn’t. It’s exactly the same.’

A stag appeared through the trees, handsome and strong.

‘Now,’ said Humphrey.

Martha, shaking, drew the bow. The stag turned his head, seeming to look her in the eye. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, not knowing whether she was speaking to the stag or to Humphrey. Either way, it was too late. In half a moment, the stag was gone.

‘You can’t hesitate, even for a second,’ said Humphrey.

‘I could see his heart beating through his skin.’

‘They all have hearts, you know.’

‘I know. But it’s not usually me who has to stop them.’

‘If you can’t kill a deer, what are you going to do if the Queen’s been taken prisoner and we have to fight our way through her captors?’

Martha imagined herself shooting arrows at Jasper’s captors. Then she imagined failing to shoot arrows at them, and Jasper being killed. ‘I’ll try again,’ she said.

They waited. After an eternity, a rabbit crept out of a patch of bracken. It was soft and brown, its fur like silk. It didn’t notice them, but hopped its way into a cool patch of the glade.

Humphrey nodded towards the rabbit. Martha raised her bow. The rabbit wrinkled its little bunny nose. Martha aimed her arrow at the rabbit. The rabbit nibbled on a blade of grass. Martha drew her bow. The rabbit did a shimmy with its ears.

‘I can’t,’ wailed Martha.

‘Oh, for crying out loud,’ said Humphrey, raising his own bow, but the rabbit had heard them, and bounced away out of sight.

‘It was too cute,’ said Martha.

‘Cute?’ said Humphrey. ‘Do you want us all to starve? Or are we not cute enough to live?’

‘We can go to the market and buy meat.’

‘You do know that meat has always been alive first?’

‘Of course I know.’

‘Well then, next time, you shoot.’

Nothing stirred for quite a while. Martha wondered whether this might be a good moment to ask Humphrey about the Table of Less Valued Knights. She’d been trying to find the right words for days, ever since Elaine had mentioned it. She still couldn’t believe that Humphrey belonged there. There must have been a terrible mistake, or maybe Elaine had misunderstood. She was formulating a question when suddenly they heard something crashing towards them through the trees, something big. Humphrey leapt to attention and pointed an arrow towards the sound.

‘Aim,’ he said, ‘but wait for it to get closer before you shoot.’

‘What is it?’ said Martha, raising her bow again, heart beating hard.

‘I don’t know,’ said Humphrey. ‘But it’s big.’

There was a flash of white through the bushes.

‘Cow?’ said Martha.

Humphrey shook his head. ‘Horse, I think.’

‘Well, don’t kill it if it’s one of ours,’ said Martha.

As the creature passed between two trees, they both got a good look at it.

‘Unicorn,’ breathed Humphrey, lowering his bow.

Unicorn! Martha didn’t wait another moment. She started to run. She couldn’t afford to let a unicorn anywhere near her. Unicorns sought out virgin maidens and laid their heads in their laps. Virgin
maidens
. Not virgin boys. Bloody animal! Why couldn’t it have gone for Elaine?

‘Marcus!’ shouted Humphrey.

‘I’m not running away!’ she yelled. ‘Don’t send Conrad! I will come back!’

She heard hoof-beats behind her, growing closer. The unicorn
was drawn to her, as surely as a fleck of iron is drawn to a lodestone.

‘Piss off!’ she shouted at the creature.

The unicorn accelerated, galloping after her through the trees.