Authors: Katherine Roberts
Since all the seats looked the same, it probably didn’t matter which one she chose. She marched up to the nearest and sat in it. Her feet did not reach the floor.
“I don’t think you should sit there, my lady,” Arianrhod whispered, glancing at the doors again.
Rhianna rested Excalibur on the table in front of her, imagining the knights seated around her. Cai had been right about the table being made of blue stone. Spirals had been carved into it, which shifted and glimmered in the light of her sword. She stood on the chair to see them better.
“Rhia!” Arianrhod hissed. “Please, I think we should go now.”
A small hole in the middle surrounded by druid symbols drew her gaze. She kicked off her slippers and stepped on to the table for a closer look.
As she approached the centre, her ears roared and she felt dizzy. Mist curled around
the chairs. Seated in some of them were pale, ghostly knights, who stared at the sword in her hand with eager eyes.
She caught her breath, looking vainly for her father’s ghost among them. “Who are you?” she whispered. “Can you see me?”
The knights simply watched the sword, which made her feel silly because she had no idea what to do with it next.
“Merlin!” she called, her voice echoing around the hall. “Can you hear me? I’ve got Excalibur and your pathfinder and we’re at Camelot like you said, but we need to know how to get back to Avalon. How do we work the magic to take us through the mists?”
No answer. She looked more carefully at the knights’ faces, but didn’t recognise any of them. She tried to count them, but kept forgetting
where she had started, just as she had with the chairs. They obviously couldn’t hear her, and neither could Merlin, wherever he was – there must be something else she needed to do.
She examined the strange hole. It looked about the width of a sword blade. She thought of the songs that told how her father had drawn the sword from the stone. Could it be that simple? With a shiver of excitement, she lifted Excalibur with both hands and lowered the shining tip into the table. It fitted perfectly. Power rushed up her arms, the jewel brightened, and she felt the Round Table tug at the blade. Refusing to let go, she was dragged to her knees.
The ghostly knights leaned forward eagerly, their pale eyes gleaming.
“
Careful
…” they whispered.
A dark-haired lad lounging in the chair
nearest the doors fixed startling green eyes on her and smiled.
“Looking for someone?” he said.
His voice sent a chill through her. He wore no armour, but she’d seen those eyes before: standing behind the bloodbeard in the Saxon camp as he tortured Sir Bors; on the battlefield when the bloodbeard had dragged her off her horse; and in Merlin’s song-pictures as his axe came down on her father’s head.
“
Mordred!
” Rage filled her. She struggled to pull Excalibur back out of the table. But an invisible force seemed to hold it in place.
The boy leaned back in his chair and put both his hands behind his head. Rhianna stared at them uneasily. Had the dark knight found a way to heal himself? With his smooth chin and long eyelashes, he looked almost as handsome as
an Avalonian. “So, cousin,” he said. “It seems the tales I’ve been hearing about you are true. You’re braver than I thought you’d be. You might have stolen my Saxon allies with your sweet damsel’s tongue, but I have other allies now. Stronger ones than yours, I think.”
He smirked at her, then suddenly leaned forward and stared into her eyes. “What’s the matter, cousin? Having trouble controlling your sword? Why not give up your silly quest and let me have it? All men have to die in the end, even King Arthur. I expect Merlin told you some nonsense about him coming back to life if you take the Sword of Light back to Avalon? It’s not going to happen, any fool can see that. Wounds like the one I gave him do not heal easily. Believe me, it’ll be many thousands of years before your father’s soul returns to his
body, if ever. He’s not coming back in either of our lifetimes. Give me the Sword of Light, and maybe I’ll let you enjoy the rest of yours as a damsel should, picking flowers and dancing and such, while I look after Excalibur for you.”
Rhianna blinked, her thoughts clearing. “Never!” she said. “You’re not really here, are you? This is just spirit magic. Your real body doesn’t have two hands any more because Merlin told us my father cut one of them off in the battle. You can’t hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” the boy said. “Remember in the Saxon camp?” He lifted his right hand and closed it very slowly.
Her wrist, where his gauntleted fist had touched her back then, turned cold again. Ice shivered up her arm, and a shadow crossed the stars. She gritted her teeth and held on
to Excalibur as tightly as she could.
Of course, he must be lying about her father sleeping in the crystal caverns for thousands of years… but what if he was right? What if she took the sword back to Avalon and King Arthur’s body never healed to carry it again? Then Mordred would have plenty of time to get hold of the other three Lights. Despite what Merlin had said back in Lord Avallach’s hall about the Lance being broken and the Grail vanishing, three to one didn’t sound very good odds. She thought uneasily of her dream, and her arms trembled with sudden doubt.
Mordred smiled. “Give in, cousin. Why struggle so? Merlin’s finished. He can’t help you now. If you don’t trust me with Excalibur, then why not use it yourself? Stop being so feeble. Blood that blade of yours. Until you do, your
father’s knights will never stop treating you like a child, and the squires will tease you for being a damsel who wants to fight. You’ll be just as powerless here in the world of men as you were back in Avalon. Go on, cousin, I know you want to. Pendragon blood runs in your veins, even as it does in mine. Fighting blood. Ambitious blood. It burns you, doesn’t it?”
Rhianna gave a final heave, and the blade scraped free in a shower of blue sparks. She leaped across the table and put the sword to Mordred’s throat. “Where’s Merlin? What did your mother do to him? Is he dead? Tell me!”
The shadow-boy laughed. “Dead enough. The time of the druids is over. Merlin was the last of them, you know. Only his Avalonian blood kept him alive so long; weak fairy blood like your interfering little friend’s. Maybe
I should ask Mother to drown your precious fairy prince, too? Can’t swim, can he? Afraid of water, like all Avalonians. You’d give me the Sword of Light then, maybe—”
Rhianna’s ears roared. Excalibur’s jewel darkened, and the sword took on a life of its own, just as it had when she’d been fighting the bloodbeard on the battlefield. She grasped the hilt two-handed and swung the blade at her cousin’s mocking smile—
“NO, RHIA!”
As Elphin’s harp tinkled across the vast hall, Mordred’s shadow vanished. The jewel brightened again, revealing Arianrhod cowering behind the empty chair with her hands over her head. Rhianna came to her senses with a shudder. She’d almost cut the poor girl’s throat!
She lowered the blade with trembling arms, and the pale knights faded, leaving her standing barefoot on the Round Table in her nightgown holding Excalibur. A crowd of squires, also in their nightclothes, were staring at her. Some carried torches, others daggers. She saw Gareth near the front, smirking at her, and flushed.
Arianrhod hurried back around the table to bring her the cloak she’d left on a chair. Rhianna put it on. With as much dignity as she could manage, she sheathed Excalibur and jumped lightly to the floor.
“Well, what are you all staring at?” she said, rubbing her numb wrist. “You’re not supposed to be in here, are you?”
“You’re not supposed to be in here, either, Damsel Rhianna,” Cai pointed out, pushing to the front of the crowd. “I told you that
table’s magic. It can be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. Lucky Elphin here woke up and heard you.”
Rhianna glanced at her friend. His fingers were freshly bandaged – he had been plucking his harp with his thumbs. She looked up at the hole in the roof. The stars were paling. She shivered.
“Lucky for you, most of the knights are still sleepin’ off their mead,” Cai said. “Or you’d be in a
lot
of trouble.” He peered closer at Arianrhod and scowled. “Hey, ain’t you Morgan Le Fay’s maid? Keep away from Damsel Rhianna, you little witch!”
Arianrhod ducked his waving dagger and raised her hands to protect her face – with good reason, since Cai’s weaponry skills were no better than his riding.
“Stop it, Cai!” Rhianna snapped, still feeling shaky after her encounter with Mordred’s shadow. “I asked her to bring me here. She’s not working for Mordred’s mother any more, you dolt. Can’t you see what Lady Morgan did to her face?”
Elphin gave Arianrhod’s cheek a closer look and frowned. He plucked another chord. “Better?” he said. “I can’t make the scars go away, but that should help with the pain.”
Arianrhod smiled shyly at the Avalonian prince and touched her cheek in wonder. “Much better,” she said. “Thank you.”
Cai made a face. “If you two have quite finished, we’d better get out of here before someone comes…”
“Too late,” Gareth said with another smirk.
The commotion in the Great Hall had
attracted the attention of the sentries, who had raised the alarm. Sir Agravaine ducked through the little door and snapped out orders. A bar scraped back, and one of the huge doors creaked open to admit a furious Sir Bors.
“Out, the lot of you!” he bellowed. “Now!”
The squires, who had gathered around Rhianna for a closer look at Excalibur, filed out of the hall casting her backwards glances.
“Is she really King Arthur’s daughter?”
“Don’t look much like a princess to me.”
“Never mind the girls,” someone else said. “Did anyone spot that dirty sneak Mordred? I’m sure I saw him in here! Where’d he go? He needs teachin’ a lesson, the traitor…”
Finally, the boys were gone, leaving the hall humming with the echoes of magic. Rhianna faced the angry knights and tried to look like
a princess. Not easy in her nightdress with her bare feet and hacked hair.
Sir Bors scowled at her. “Since I woke up yesterday morning, I’ve fought in a battle, sorted out the mess that idiot Lancelot left behind, fed an army, bandaged up my wounded men, seen to the horses, and got to bed about a heartbeat ago,” he said. “I got a headache – and the last thing I want is to hear your fairy harp in here!” He turned his scowl on Elphin, who quickly silenced the strings and stared at the circle of sky.
“Would one of you care to explain exactly what Damsel Rhianna was doing dancing on the Round Table in the middle of the night?” Sir Agravaine said.
“Weren’t my idea,” Cai said quickly. “I was asleep. Ask the witch’s maid!”
“I don’t think it was Rhianna’s fault,” Elphin said, stroking the stone with a bandaged hand. “This table has almost as much power as my father’s palace back in Avalon. I expect it called to the sword.”
“I’m sorry…” Arianrhod began.
Rhianna waved them all silent. “It was my idea. I wanted to see if I could contact Merlin. When I was standing on it, I saw some knights sitting around the table.” She decided not to mention her cousin Mordred. “Who were they?”
Sir Bors sank into one of the big chairs. He put a cushion behind his head and closed his eyes. “They’re the knights who died on the Grail Quest, Damsel Rhianna. We see them in here sometimes. They’re just ghosts. Don’t worry about them. At least you didn’t get as far
as sheathing Excalibur in the Round Table to call a living soul. There’s some of them as used to sit in here we don’t want snooping around Camelot these days.”
Rhianna swallowed. No wonder Mordred’s shadow had been able to reach her so easily. She’d as good as invited him in!
“Is that how my father used to contact Merlin when he was away?” she asked innocently.
“Yes.” Sir Bors said with a sigh. “With Excalibur, Arthur could contact anybody who has ever sat in here, living or dead. But before you try the magic, we need to be here to help you. All of us, without headaches, and in the daylight so we can see who we’re talking to. So do you think you can possibly wait a few days more, Damsel Rhianna?”
Elphin nodded, agreeing with Sir Bors.
“And my fingers need to heal properly so I can play my harp if you need me to.” Again his gaze met hers, and she knew he meant if Mordred appeared again.
“And you should be dressed like a princess,” added Arianrhod. “So if King Arthur sees you from Avalon, he’ll know who you are.”
“Yeah, and to show Gareth and them other cheeky squires not to mess with you, Damsel Rhianna!” Cai added.
Rhianna sighed. She needed to contact Merlin more than ever, after what Mordred had said. But at least she knew how the magic worked now. “Then I suppose I’d better wait,” she said.
That year the snow fell thick and deep
And Mordred’s power at last did sleep;
While in body small and feathered
Merlin’s druid soul was tethered.
T
he blizzard continued for days. Snow covered the pit where the dead had been buried, laid white fur along the branches of the trees, and filled the ditches where men had spilled their blood. It made the world seem clean again.
Rhianna woke late after her encounter with Mordred, feeling grumpy and sore. She was tempted to stay in bed until the knights arranged their meeting of the Round Table. But Arianrhod seemed determined to use the time to turn her into a princess, and led her to the royal bathroom. Rhianna frowned at the pool of steaming water in the middle of the chamber. “But what’s it for?” she said, confused.
The girl giggled. “To wash yourself in, of course. The queen loved to bathe in here. It’s a Roman thing, really, but it’s good fun.” She eyed Rhianna sideways. “Your father used it after he’d had a hard fight. Why not try it, and I’ll bring your breakfast while you bathe?”
At the promise of breakfast, Rhianna gave in. Soon she was soaking in the warm water, munching honey cakes, while Arianrhod washed
her hair yet again and offered her scented oils to scrub the dirt from her skin. Her aches and pains vanished… the bath worked almost as well as Elphin’s harp. She looked for her father’s ghost in the steam, but it did not appear. Strange to think this huge stone fortress could have been her home. Her parents had walked along these corridors, eaten in the huge dining hall and slept in one of the great beds.
Lady Isabel came to inspect the result. She smiled as she fixed a narrow gold band in Rhianna’s hair. “Much better,” she said. “Now, I know you’re not used to our ways yet, Rhianna, but in Camelot damsels don’t run around the corridors in their nightclothes brandishing swords. I’d lock Excalibur in the armoury, if it weren’t your father’s magic sword. Sir Bors thinks it’ll be safer in the
tower with you, but you’ve got to promise not to frighten the other girls with it. I’ve put a chest in your room where you can keep it with your armour and your other things.” She gave Rhianna a bemused look then smiled again. “Well, I suppose it’ll make a change to have a female Pendragon! Everyone’s talking about the treaty you made with the Saxon chief. That’s the most sensible thing anyone around here’s done for some time. Maybe we won’t get so many wounded knights limping home from the wars to bandage up in future.”
Rhianna felt unexpectedly shy before the tall, golden-haired woman who had kissed her as she slept. “I hope not, Lady Isabel,” she said, remembering her father’s terrible wounds. What if Mordred was right about them never healing?
Later, when she showed him the bathroom,
Elphin took one look at the pool and his eyes whirled violet. “You’re not getting me in there!” he said, shuddering a little.
Rhianna smiled. “How do the squires get clean, then?”
“There’s buckets and sponges for when they can’t get down to the river. That’ll do me until I can play my harp again.”
She eyed his bandaged fingers. “How long?”
“Not long – a few days, maybe.” His eyes darkened. “I won’t let Mordred’s magic reach you again, Rhia, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried about Mordred,” she said, though the dark knight had scared her more than she liked to admit. “But I’ve got to speak to Merlin as soon as possible. He told me to look for the dragon… I thought he meant the shadrake, since it brought me his pathfinder,
but maybe he meant a statue or something? We might as well look everywhere while we’re waiting.”
She’d already noticed the creatures were all over the place – carved into the backs of chairs, embroidered across the Pendragon’s banners and wall hangings, and snarling down at them from the battlements.
“Are you sure you’re feeling strong enough, my lady?” Arianrhod said. “Camelot’s a big castle.”
“Then we’d better start now!” she leaned into the pool and splashed her friends with water to get them moving.
All outside training had been cancelled due to the weather, so Cai got let off lessons to join them. First they visited the stables with their dragonhead posts, where Rhianna was relieved to see Alba happily munching hay in a big stall
between Sir Bors’ bay stallion and Elphin’s little Evenstar.
The mare whinnied a joyful welcome and searched her with a soft muzzle.
Where are my apples?
“Oh, beautiful one!” Rhianna laughed. “I forgot. I’ll find you some.”
But the apple store had been raided for the feast. All she could offer the mist horse was a bruised core Cai reluctantly produced from his pocket. Alba ate the mushy offering with great dignity, while Rhianna straightened her mane and wondered how long it would be before they saw Avalon again.
“I asked Camelot’s smith to put Evenstar’s shoes back on,” Elphin told her quietly. “He had to use different nails because the Saxons lost the ones Father’s smith used. I just hope the magic still works.”
“You can check with Merlin when he turns up,” Rhianna said. When her friend went quiet, she punched him on the arm. “Cheer up, if this weather carries on much longer all the water will be frozen anyway and we’ll be able to ride across the ice.”
“You’re on your own if you do,” Cai said, giving them a sideways look. “This clumsy beast’d crack it with his first step.” But he patted the bay horse and promised to exercise him as soon as they could get out.
Rhianna kissed Alba’s nose and promised to bring her more apples soon. “What’s through there?”
Cai took them next door to the mews, where rows of fluffed-out birds wearing little hoods dozed on their perches. Some were large and fierce looking, others quite small.
The whole building smelled musty.
Rhianna sneezed, making a small blue-grey bird in the shadows at the back flutter its tattered wings. It had freckles on its breast like the ones on her nose, and something about it made her look closer. “That’s one of the birds that attacked the shadrake!” she said, remembering how it had been tumbled through the air by the dragon and glad to see it had survived the battle.
Cai frowned. “It’s a merlin. Must be a new one. Hope I don’t get the job of training it. They don’t look very big, but they’ve got sharp claws.”
While the boy grumbled on about how many times he had been scratched by hawks, Rhianna eyed the dusty sunbeams full of drifting feathers and smiled at the thought of her father’s druid being named after a tiny bird. “Where to next?” she said.
Cai took them to the armoury, where the knights’ jousting lances were stacked neatly around the walls with their shields and armour, and then the kitchens, where he stole four warm pies from a tray and got told off by the cook. “Those are for the midwinter feast, young squire!” she called after them, as they ran out of the door giggling.
Cai seemed content to hang around the kitchen door. But Rhianna wasn’t hungry. She finished her pie and frowned at the falling snow.
Even the weather seemed determined to stop her taking the Sword of Light back to Avalon. She realised the only people they’d seen on her tour of the castle were servants and women. She felt suddenly suspicious. What if the knights didn’t want her quest to succeed?
What if they had really meant to keep Excalibur at Camelot, all along? Could that be why they were taking so long to organise a meeting of the Round Table?
“Where’s Sir Bors?” she asked Cai as they dashed back through the blizzard to the main building. “And what about the rest of the knights? Why aren’t they polishing their shields, or whatever they usually do indoors when it snows?”
“Er…” Cai blushed and looked towards the Great Hall.
Then she knew. “They’ve called a meeting of the Round Table, haven’t they? Without me!”
Arianrhod gave her a stricken look. “Those meetings always go on for ages, and Lady Isabel said you needed your rest.
“Sir Bors promised he’d tell you when
they’re ready to try the magic,” Cai said. “Next month, maybe.”
“Next
month
?” Rhianna stared at her friends in disbelief. “Mordred might have raised another army by then!”
“I haven’t finished hemming your new dress…” Arianrhod protested.
“And my fingers are still rather sore, Rhia,” Elphin said. “It might be better to wait until the snow stops and—”
“And what?” Rhianna turned so suddenly to face her friend, he had to use a quick flick of his hand to mist the air between them and avoid walking straight into her. She looked accusingly at his hand. “Fingers still sore, are they?” she said. “Let me see! Arianrhod, help me with his bandages.”
Elphin sighed and allowed them to unwind
the linen. His slender Avalonian fingers showed pale scars, but no blisters. Rhianna blinked at them in confusion.
Her friend met her accusing gaze with whirling purple eyes. “We just think you should wait a bit longer before you try using Excalibur in the Round Table again. After all, Merlin didn’t tell you to meet him there. Maybe he knew it was too dangerous. What if something goes wrong again?”
She knew what he meant: if Mordred tried to reach her with his dark magic.
“It won’t,” she said firmly. “I’ll be ready for Mordred’s tricks next time. Besides, it’s only some kind of spirit magic, isn’t it? Words can’t hurt me.”
Elphin frowned. “Words can be just as dangerous as weapons – you nearly killed poor
Arianrhod last night! It’d be safer to wait. The Wild Hunt rides into the world of men at midwinter remember? That’s only a few days away now. Father might know what happened to Merlin. Maybe we can ride back to Avalon with them, or at least give Excalibur to Father so he can take it back through the mists where it’ll be safe.”
Rhianna stared at her friend. The Wild Hunt – how could she have forgotten? “I’m sure Merlin wouldn’t have told me to bring Excalibur to Camelot if the Wild Hunt could take it back to Avalon,” she said uneasily.
“Rhia, we’ve no proof that message came from Merlin. What if it was meant to lure us into a trap?”
True, when they reached Camelot they’d ridden straight into the Saxon army…
and when she’d tried the magic in the Round Table Mordred had almost tricked her into blooding Excalibur. She shook her head. “It must have come from Merlin! He sent us his pathfinder like he said he would, didn’t he?”
“Or maybe
Morgan Le Fay
sent it, with that shadrake.” Elphin’s eyes whirled violet. “We can’t risk using it until we know it’s not a trap. Father will help us, I’m sure he will.”
“All right…” she said, still not happy. “If we don’t manage to contact Merlin before midwinter, then we can look for the Hunt. But I’m not taking Excalibur back to Avalon until I’m sure my father will wake up to carry it. Agreed?”
“That sword’s changed you,” her friend said sadly. “Father warned me this might happen. I think you want King Arthur to sleep in the
crystal caverns for ever so you can be some kind of heroine, battling dragons and fighting Saxons in his place.”
“That’s not true!”
“Isn’t it? After all, you never really knew him. Why should you care if he’s reborn or not?”
“Because he’s my
father
and Mordred
killed him!
” Rhianna’s eyes pricked with angry tears. “You wouldn’t understand. Your father will never die. Besides, I do know him… sort of, anyway. I’ve seen his ghost several times now, and I’ve heard it speak to me, too. He knows who I am now. He helped me fight Mordred’s shadow during the battle, and he spoke to Sir Bors before we went to the lake. I told you that, remember?”
Elphin sighed. “You were asleep, Rhia, and so was Sir Bors. You were asleep when you got Merlin’s message, too. Father says humans
dream things sometimes, if they want them badly enough.”
“I’m not imagining things.” Rhianna glared at him. “I wasn’t asleep during the battle, was I? Ask Arianrhod – she saw him too.”
“You told me it was magic, Rhia,” the girl whispered.
“I thought the whole reason we came here was to find Excalibur and take it back to Avalon to keep it out of Mordred’s hands?” Elphin said more gently.
Rhianna gritted her teeth. “That might be why you came! I came because I thought my father would be reborn to carry it and finish his battle against Mordred. Only now I’m not sure he’ll return in time to stop Mordred from getting hold of the other three Lights, if he wakes up at all…” She choked. But Mordred
had to be lying. “The Sword of Light protects Camelot, doesn’t it? We can’t take Excalibur back to Avalon and leave everyone here in danger. We have to find out how long it’ll be before King Arthur heals first. Anyway, I want to see my mother before I go back – surely you can understand that?”
Arianrhod fingered her scar and coughed nervously.
“Do you want me to tell Sir Bors you’re ready to join the meeting, or not?” Cai said.
Rhianna eyed Elphin again. “If you’re scared, I’ll understand. You don’t have to come. I’ll be fine with the knights to protect me.”
Her friend shook his dark curls. “I’ll be there,” he said in a resigned tone. “Just give me time to tune my harp.”