LANCE OF TRUTH (5 page)

“Yes, Sir Bors,” she said, still meekly.

He gave her a suspicious look. “Right then, off to bed with you. And I want you to stay up in your room in the morning. There’ll be a lot of excitement in the stables, horses tramping everywhere. No place for a damsel.”

“But I—” Rhianna said, tensing.

The knight motioned to the sentries. “These men will stay outside your door the whole time we’re away so you can feel safe.”

Rhianna eyed the men, thinking of what Cai had said. Her spine stiffened. “If you think I’m going to stay in my room for a
month
…”

Sir Bors frowned. “Now, now, Damsel Rhianna. Nobody said anything about staying in your room that long. Just till we’re out of the way, that’s all. A few days, maybe.”

“A few
days
? But who’ll exercise Alba? She has to go out, and nobody but me can ride her.”

“The Avalonian boy will take her out with his horse.” Sir Bors frowned at her. “Now be sensible, huh? I’m sure you don’t want everybody gossiping about how Rhianna Pendragon had to be locked in the dungeon like a naughty squire to keep her out of mischief.”

Rhianna stared at the big knight in disbelief.

“I’ll order it, Rhianna,” he warned. “Unless
you give me your promise now, on your father’s sword, that you’ll not ride north after us. Well…? I’m waiting.”

She glared at him, too furious at how he’d tricked her to remain meek. “I’m the Pendragon! You should do what
I
say.”

“No, Rhianna, you know that’s not how it works here. Your father, King Arthur, was one voice among many. He made the Round Table so he’d never misuse his power, and we’ve voted on this. You and that fool Bedivere are the only ones who seem to think it a good idea that we take you into Mordred’s bloodthirsty hills and hand you over to him to do with as he likes. He’s already killed your father and got our queen in chains. Even the Romans couldn’t handle those wild northern tribes. They built that Wall for a good reason, and you’re goin’
nowhere near it, even if I have to lock you in the dungeon for the entire summer for your own safety. So do you promise, or do I ask these men to escort you down there now?”

Rhianna felt dizzy at the very thought. She glared at the sentries. One of them gave an embarrassed cough. But they stepped forward, ready to take hold of her arms if need be. Sir Bors held out the bundled Excalibur, its jewel poking out of the end.

She closed her eyes. It wasn’t too late. She could snatch Excalibur back, call on the other ninety-nine knights to help her… but this was clearly a test, and she had more chance of getting out of her room than getting out of a locked dungeon.

She took a deep breath, placed her hand on the jewel and looked Sir Bors in the eye.

“I promise not to
ride
north after you,” she said through gritted teeth.

She’d walk the whole way, if she had to.

Sir Bors’ eyes narrowed. “A Pendragon never breaks a promise. You know that, don’t you?”

“And I won’t break mine!” Rhianna said, thinking of her cousin breaking his knightly oath to kill her father. “But if Mordred hurts my mother…”

“Good girl.” Sir Bors gave her one of his unexpected, gruff hugs. “That little traitor Mordred won’t harm a hair of the queen’s head while I still live and breathe, I promise you that.”

This did not make Rhianna feel much better. She hated to think of the big knight lying dead in the wild northlands, because of her.

When the knights rode out the next morning, pennants flying from their lances, Rhianna could only watch in frustration from her tower window. Cai trotted proudly in the middle of the troop on his pony, carrying the cloak-wrapped sword strapped to his saddle. The sun had not yet risen, and they soon disappeared over the bridge and into the mist.

She glared at the door. The two sentries still stood outside. She had heard them all night, shifting their feet. One of them had an annoying cough. She wondered when they would sleep. Not soon enough.

She was leaning out of the window to see if Elphin was taking the mist horses out yet, when Arianrhod came in with her breakfast.

“My lady!” Arianrhod dropped the tray on
the bed and hurried across the room to grab her sleeve.

“Oh, stop it,” Rhianna said. “I wasn’t going to jump, silly. They’ve gone now, anyway. I just hope they don’t get any blood on Excalibur so I can’t take it back to Avalon for my father.” A lump came to her throat.

The other girl hugged her. “Oh, Rhia… I know you wanted to go as well, but the knights are right. It would have been too dangerous. And it’s lovely here in spring. Sir Bedivere’s told me to pack a picnic for when you’re allowed out, the first sunny day we get. At least if Prince Mordred and his bloodbeards are meeting the knights up at the North Wall, we know they’re not terrorising people around these parts.”

“I haven’t time to go on silly picnics!”
Rhianna frowned at her friend. Then she had a horrible thought. “What if Mordred’s planning to attack Camelot while the knights are away in the north with Excalibur? He’s sneaky like that, isn’t he? If I haven’t got my sword, I can’t protect you! We’ve got to go after them, quick.”

Arianrhod’s lips twitched.

She glared at the girl. “It’s not
funny
, Arianrhod!”

“I know, I’m sorry.” The dark-haired girl glanced at the door and closed it. She whispered, “But you see, the picnic’s just an excuse to get you out of here. We’re going to the North Wall as well. Elphin says he can get us there before the knights. I can’t tell you any more now. Just don’t do anything stupid before then.”

Rhianna gripped the girl’s wrist in hope. “We’re going after them? But Sir Bors made
me promise… never mind. Are you sure we’ll be there before them? What’s the plan?”

“Shh, the sentries will hear you.” Arianrhod glanced nervously at the door again. “I don’t know what your Avalonian friend is up to, except that it’ll involve some magic. We’re going to the spiral stones. They’ve got strange powers.” She touched the scar on her cheek and shivered. “Merlin used to take your father there… Lady Rhia, you’re hurting me.”

Rhianna relaxed her grip, ashamed to see her fingers had left red marks on her friend’s arm. “Sorry… it’s all the sword training. I forget my own strength sometimes.” She took a deep breath and thought of the stones Arianrhod had mentioned. “Do you mean where we camped on our way from Avalon? I had a dream of Merlin there.”

She looked at the window. It would be a lot easier to escape her guards on a picnic than stuck inside Camelot. If they were lucky, Merlin might even be there, waiting for them. She smiled. “Oh, all right,” she said loudly enough for the sentries to hear. “I’d better go on this picnic, I suppose. At least it’ll get me out of this stupid tower! I suppose my faithful guards are coming, too?”

Arianrhod smiled back. “I expect so, and Sir Bedivere’s men of course, and probably some of the squires. But it’ll be fun, you’ll see, even if the magic doesn’t work.”

When her friend had gone, Rhianna ate her breakfast thoughtfully. She wondered what Elphin had in mind. She needed to talk to him. But when she quietly opened the door that afternoon, hoping the sentries might have
fallen asleep at last, they crossed their spears and grinned at her.

“Not yet, Princess Rhianna,” they said. “Sorry. More than our lives are worth.”

“But I want a bath.”

“Your maid will bring you hot water. You’ve got everything you need up here. It’s only for day or two. And Sir Bors said if you try anything stupid like climbing out of the window, we’re to take you down to the dungeons for your own safety. So best not try, huh? You’d probably break your neck, any rate.”

Rhianna retreated back inside. She checked the drop into the courtyard. An Avalonian could have done it, maybe. But she was human with no magic, and now she didn’t even have Excalibur so she couldn’t talk to Merlin if he did come back.

The following days were the hardest of Rhianna’s life. More frustrating even than her childhood in Avalon, when Lord Avallach wouldn’t allow her through the enchanted mists to look for her parents. There, the magic had stopped her from leaving. Here she had two human guards instead, who escorted her about Camelot like a prisoner.

When they let her out of her room on the second day, she almost gave them the slip and galloped after the knights on her mist horse. But she knew Sir Bors would only send her back again, and then Sir Bedivere wouldn’t let her go on the picnic, which seemed her only chance now of getting to the North Wall before Mordred got his hands on Excalibur.

To make things worse, she guessed her
friends were not telling her everything. Elphin said they had to wait for Merlin to return, because he needed his help with the magic. Arianrhod kept avoiding her eyes and dropping things, until – infuriated – Rhianna told the girl to get out of her room.

With nothing better to do, she stared out of her window imagining all the terrible things Mordred might be doing to her mother. Day after day passed, with no sign of the merlin. She wondered if the druid knew she was still stuck in Camelot, and tried to persuade her guards to take her out into the woods to look for her missing hawk. But they just laughed and shook their heads. “Nice try, Princess,” they said. “Wait for the picnic, then we’ll all ride out together.”

Rhianna sighed. A fine mess she was
making of her quest! She’d hoped to have two of the Lights by now. Instead, Sir Lancelot had gone missing with the Lance of Truth, and with every day that passed the knights were closer to their meeting with Mordred. She took comfort from Sir Bors’ promise that they wouldn’t let her cousin near Excalibur until the queen was safe, and prayed Cai wouldn’t do anything stupid with the sword until she got there.

D
ARK
A
MBUSH

M
ordred sat on his horse in the dusk, watching the road below. The animal would not stand still. Every time it moved his bad leg hit the rocks, making him curse under his breath. The knee would no longer bend properly, and his foot stuck out like a broken lance. But soon he’d have two of the Lights in his grasp. Then he’d be on his way to commanding the Grail that could end his suffering.

His heart quickened as he heard the sound of hooves echoing in the pass. His fist clenched on the reins and the horse danced sideways, bruising his leg again. He barely felt
the pain. Would Arthur’s knights have obeyed his instructions to the letter?

His men came instantly alert and flitted from rock to rock. Mordred had to admire their skill. “At last,” he growled. “If they’d taken another route—”

“They had to come this way, Master.” His bloodbeard captain, the same one who had let Arthur’s daughter slip through his fingers last winter, scrambled down from the lookout. “They were a bit slower than we expected, that’s all. Got a pony with them.”

“Ah yes, for my cousin to ride – don’t suppose she can manage a full-grown horse,” Mordred said, satisfied. “Make sure you snatch her when you snatch the sword. And don’t let her escape this time.”

“Yes, my prince.” The bloodbeard’s cheek
twitched, showing a new scar, a souvenir from the shadrake that had almost killed him during the battle for Camelot last year. He had as much reason to hate the girl as Mordred did.

“I want her alive,” he added, a bit worried that the man might get carried away. “And undamaged.”

The bloodbeard’s face fell. “What if she puts up a fight? I know she’s only a damsel, but she does have your uncle’s magic sword…”

“And you have fifty trained fighters!” Mordred snapped. “Plus the advantage of surprise. Do I have to climb down there and snatch her myself? Because if I can do that, I won’t need you any more, will I?”

The bloodbeard stiffened. “N-no, Master. We’ll get her for you. Alive and undamaged, as you say.”

They’d chosen their ambush well, where the old Roman road entered a narrow valley with cliffs on both sides. It was already dark in the shadows below, but enough light remained to show a large party of knights riding up from the south. They looked tired and dusty. Their horses’ heads hung low.

Mordred’s eye fixed on the dun-coloured pony in the centre carrying a small figure in a hooded cloak. He smiled. Last time they’d met, he had been wounded and helpless while his cousin held a magic blade to his throat. Today, their positions would be reversed.

She rode astride, not side-saddle like most damsels, but he’d expected that. The cloak would be to hide her from curious eyes. He was sure his bloodbeards had reported a white pony… but maybe it was dirty.

Most importantly, he could see a large sword strapped to the pony’s saddle. The white jewel on its hilt caught the last of the light.
Excalibur.

He smiled again. His mother had been right. Arthur’s knights were leaderless and stupid. They had ridden straight into his trap. By tonight, they’d all be dead, and he’d have the Sword of Light and Arthur’s daughter.

It was too dark to see which knights had come. Not all of them, obviously. They would have left some men to defend Camelot. But once he had Excalibur, the others would have to do what he said.

Then his stupid horse flung up its head and neighed.

The knights, who had been warily eyeing the cliffs, looked up in alarm and snatched
out their swords. One of them rode out in front with a lance, yelling for the others to retreat.

Mordred cursed as they started to turn their horses. He heard unearthly shrieks and the clash of metal below as his bloodbeards attacked from the rocks. He saw one of his men die on the end of the lance, which luckily jammed in the cliffs before the knight could skewer anyone else with it.

The pony, frightened by the dark figures dropping from above, whipped round. Its rider fell off. He grinned. But it wasn’t his cousin. Instead, a plump fair-haired boy scrambled up and ran for the mouth of the pass.

“Tricked! They tricked me… get the sword!” Mordred yelled, seeing his
bloodbeards hesitate. “Never mind the boy. I need that sword!”

He dragged out his mother’s mirror. Urging the horse up to the lookout rock, he raised the glass to the sky. “Mother, help me!” he called, and flashed the mirror’s dark magic at the knights.

Black clouds boiled above him, making his horse rear in fright. Purple lightning crackled down the cliff, dislodging boulders that bounced down into the pass. The knights were forced back.

Mordred laughed. This was more like it.

His captain ran to the terrified pony and grabbed the sword from its pack. The other bloodbeards swarmed back up the cliffs, leaving Arthur’s knights turning in confused circles below.

At first he couldn’t see what had happened either, and thought his men had made a mess of things. Then the bloodbeard captain appeared with a long bundle strapped across his back, spooking the horse again.

“Bring it here!” Mordred snapped, his eyes on the big white jewel poking out of the end.

The bloodbeard did so, stammering excuses.

“Shut up, will you?” Mordred said, impatient. “So the girl’s not with them, so what? We’ll deal with her later. The important thing is we have Excalibur! With this, I’ll soon get the Lance of Truth off that fool Lancelot, and then we’ll teach my cousin and her little friends a lesson they won’t forget in a hurry. Hold my horse.” He dropped the reins, took a quick breath and drew the sword
out of its wrappings with a cry of triumph.

“Careful, my prince…”

“Oh, for Annwn’s sake! I’m Arthur’s rightful heir, aren’t I? It won’t harm me.”

He felt slightly disappointed that there was no surge of power as he drew the blade. But his cousin had unknighted him, so that would probably come after he got his mother to re-link the sword’s magic to his spirit. It felt heavier than he’d expected, too, no doubt because he’d lost his strength over the winter along with his sword hand. But he’d soon get used to fighting left-handed… that would confuse Lancelot.

“
Now
we’ll see who’s in charge, you fools!” he yelled, pointing the blade after the fleeing knights. “Go on, run back home to Camelot! Did you really think I would just hand over
the queen to you? You don’t deserve a magic sword. The Pendragon’s power is
mine
.”