Sword of Light (16 page)

Rhianna’s neck prickled as she entered the Great Hall with Excalibur. But this time it was daylight, and torches in the alcoves banished the final shadows. Snowflakes drifted through the hole in the roof and melted on the blue stone, making the druid marks gleam. Arianrhod had done her best at short notice with the dress, tacking up the hem so it wouldn’t trip her. It was of thick green wool, heavy but warm. A golden circlet tamed her sweet-smelling hair, and she wore her embroidered slippers. Elphin followed with his harp, unusually quiet.

The hall was full of knights, some seated around the table, others standing in muttering groups. Sir Bors was there, of course, with Sir Bedivere on his left and Sir Agravaine next to him. Mordred’s seat remained empty.
She recognised some of the fighters from the camp, but many were the old men who had stayed to defend Camelot. They had brought along their shields, which hung on the backs of their chairs. Rhianna was the only one with a sword.

The two sentries standing guard outside slammed the doors shut behind her with a clang that echoed through her bones. Some of the knights looked curiously at her as Sir Bors beckoned her over. The rest carried on talking among themselves.

Rhianna opened her mouth to ask why they had started without her. But Sir Bors pushed her into the seat next to him and slammed his hand down on the table. “Right, let’s get on with it!” he said. “We’ve brought Arthur’s daughter out of Avalon and we’ve made peace
with the Saxons for now. But there’ll be more barbarians to deal with in the spring, so we need to make plans for next year’s campaign. Also, the people will expect their midwinter feast and a joust to kick off the season. We need to carry on as normal to show we are back in control of Camelot.”

At this, shouts of ridicule broke out.

“Feast? We’ve been fightin’ all harvest time! We’ve hardly enough rations to last the winter, as it is.”

“Yeah, and who’s going to lead this great spring campaign? The damsel here on her white pony? She’s brave enough, I’ll give her that. But it’s one thing to see off a half-beaten Saxon rabble on our home ground, and quite another to meet a barbarian army in the field.”

“And what about Prince Mordred? He could
be busy raising another army, for all we know. Arthur’s dead, so we got to face facts. First thing we should do is elect a new war leader.”

This caused a lot more shouting and arguments as to who should take over from Arthur. Some favoured Sir Bors, who had proved himself by bringing Rhianna safely to Camelot. Others mentioned Sir Bedivere, to whom Arthur had first entrusted Excalibur – but were laughed down at the thought of ‘Soft Hands’ leading them in battle. Quite a few wanted to go after Sir Lancelot and teach him a lesson.

A grizzled old knight looked at Rhianna in a way that made her skin crawl. “At least we’ve got Excalibur,” he said. “We can always sit the girl on the throne for now to keep the people happy until we find a suitable husband for her.”

Rhianna stared at him in horror. “No you can’t!” she protested, but nobody took any notice.

She frowned as their voices grew louder and their big, scarred fists thumped the stone. She began to see why her father had forbidden his knights to carry weapons in here. Avalonians never yelled at each other like this. They listened when people sang, and then sang in their own turn. The knights were talking over her head as if she were some kind of trophy, a thing with no feelings of her own. Had they forgotten already how she’d rescued Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake, fought the shadrake and made a peace treaty with the Saxon chief Cynric?

She kicked off her slippers, stood on her chair and drew Excalibur in a hiss of silver sparks.

“Careful, Rhia…” Elphin warned.

“Just get your harp ready,” she told him as she stepped onto the Round Table.

The men were all arguing so loudly, she had reached the centre before anyone noticed. Snowflakes drifted through the hole in the roof and melted in her hair. Her hands felt sweaty and cold at the same time. She held Excalibur over the opening and took a deep breath.

Behind her, she heard Elphin begin to strum lightly on his harp.

“Shut up, all of you!” she yelled with her powerful lungs. The knights stopped arguing mid-sentence as Excalibur’s white jewel brightened in response to her voice. They stared warily at the sword. Some of the men paled as they realised what she was about to do.

“We’re not here to discuss electing a new
war leader,” Rhianna continued. “My father will return soon to lead you himself. All I have to do is get Excalibur back to Avalon for him.”

There was an uneasy silence.

“That dragon must’ve sent the girl crazy,” an older knight grumbled. “Arthur’s not comin’ back from the dead, magic sword or no magic sword.”

“Let’s ask Merlin that, shall we?” Rhianna said. Before anybody else could speak, she plunged the Sword of Light into the Round Table.

She braced herself for the powerful tug she’d felt on the first night, but this time it felt more like forcing the blade into mud. Elphin played heroically, filling the vast hall with enchantments. The air sparkled. Rhianna glanced warily around the table, but to her relief there was no sign of
Mordred’s shadow. No ghostly knights this time, either. She eyed the chair she’d just vacated, hoping for a glimpse of her father’s ghost, but the Pendragon’s seat remained empty. Behind it, Elphin’s fingers moved faster across the strings of his harp. She saw beads of sweat on her friend’s forehead and knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the magic for much longer.

“Merlin!” she called. “Can you hear me? It’s Rhianna! I’m at the Round Table. I’ve got your pathfinder and Excalibur, and all the knights are here. They want to know when King Arthur will return to lead them.”
Please don’t say thousands of years
, she willed.

She gripped the hilt until her arms trembled with effort. But no answer came.

She sighed in disappointment and let Excalibur spring from the stone. Reluctantly,
she sheathed the glimmering blade and returned to her seat.

The knights sighed, too. “Never mind, Damsel Rhianna,” Sir Bedivere said, giving her a sympathetic pat on the arm. “It was worth a try. Obviously only Arthur himself can work the magic that lets us speak to souls.” He sounded a bit relieved, and there were nods and mutters of agreement around the table.

Elphin let his harp fall silent. He sat on the floor behind her chair, cradling his harp, his head bowed in weariness. She felt a pang of guilt. Had she made him play too soon? By now the knights were all looking at her, whispering restlessly. One or two muttered that damsels should stick to their embroidery and leave the business of running the kingdom to men.

Rhianna’s blood rose. She’d just have to do
this without magic, the way she always used to. Before the knights could start arguing again, she lifted her chin and said, “Cai told us everyone who sits at King Arthur’s Round Table has an equal voice. Is that true?”

Sir Bedivere smiled. “That’s right. Princess Rhianna has a voice, too. Let’s hear what she has to say.”

Rhianna ignored the sniggerers who said she certainly had a loud voice for a damsel. She laid Excalibur on the table in front of her, rested her hands on the white jewel and lifted her chin. “I’m too young to get married, and Camelot already has a queen. I think you should send word to Sir Lancelot and tell him to bring my mother back as soon as the snow stops. He was King Arthur’s champion knight, wasn’t he? He can lead you until my father gets back from Avalon.”

“Ha!” muttered the grizzled knight who had wanted to marry her off. “I can just see Lancelot agreeing to that.”

But another knight said, “The girl’s got a point. Let Lancelot make up for what he did by leading us against the barbarians. I’d like to see his face when King Arthur rides back from the dead to reclaim Guinevere.”

This roused a few chuckles. She even saw Sir Agravaine’s lips twitch in amusement. Sir Bedivere smiled at her again in approval, and some of the older knights nodded.

“Right!” Sir Bors said. “You heard the princess! We’ll send some men north to fetch Lancelot back as soon as the weather clears. I’m sure the queen will persuade him to return once she knows Princess Rhianna is here. In the meantime, we’ll organise the best feast we can
and start making plans for the spring joust. Hopefully, Cynric’s promise will hold for a bit – we’d best send a scribe after him to get it written up, proper like. Rhianna’s right. There’ll be quite enough fightin’ to keep us occupied next year, without us killing each other over the winter.”

“And if some of you still want to slog it out with Lancelot, you can always enter the spring joust,” Sir Agravaine added with a grin. “I think we might even let young Cai enter the squires’ tilt this year, since he seems to have learned how to sit a horse at last.”

This caused a rumble of laughter among the knights, and when they began their discussion again it was with much better humour. Rhianna turned in her chair and gave Elphin a suspicious look. Her friend, who looked a bit happier now, lifted his harp and winked.

After their failure to contact Merlin, Rhianna was worried the blizzard might continue so they couldn’t look for the Hunt. She kept thinking of how Elphin had told her they hunted lost souls, and of her father’s ghost still out there somewhere in the snow. What if the Hunt took King Arthur’s soul to Annwn by mistake? She got her boots and thickest cloak ready in case they had to go out in the storm.

But on midwinter’s day, as if by magic, the weather finally cleared. The squires and damsels started a snowball fight in the courtyard, shrieking and laughing in the bright winter sunshine. Even Arianrhod smiled as a snowball broke in her hair – thrown by Cai, who had actually been aiming at Gareth. The older boy
and his friends seemed to resent Rhianna even more now that everyone had accepted her as King Arthur’s daughter. And since Elphin no longer needed his bandages, everyone could see he wasn’t human, which didn’t help.

“What’s the matter, Cai?” Gareth called. “Still can’t aim straight? Or are you after the witch’s maid? Been hanging around with her a lot lately, you and that fairy boy.”

Arianrhod blushed. Red-faced, Cai knocked Gareth down. The other boys crowded round to cheer the fight.

A pair of knights trotted past on snorting, frisky horses with scrolls sticking out of their saddlebags. “Don’t kill each other yet, lads!” they called with a chuckle. “Save it for the tilt, then we can all watch.” The outer gates of Camelot opened for the first time since the
storm, and the men galloped through in a spray of ice and disappeared along the Roman road, leaving two neat trails of prints.

Elphin caught Rhianna’s eye and jerked his head at the stables. She nodded, and they slipped away to saddle their mist horses.

13

Wild Hunt

A
s they mounted, Rhianna knew they should probably ask for an escort. But the Saxon threat had gone, and the old knights Sir Bors would have sent with them would only have slowed them down. Anyway, she had brought Excalibur, and Elphin had his harp.
Before anyone could stop them, they were through the gates and trotting down the hill.

My legs are stiff
, Alba complained, tossing her head.
I want to gallop
.

Rhianna stopped looking for ghosts and grinned. “So do I!” As soon as they reached flatter ground, she let Alba break into a canter. It felt good to be out riding again after being cooped up inside playing the princess for so long. Alba threw several bucks, glad to be out of the castle as well, while Evenstar mischievously misted around the Saxon funeral pyres.

Elphin glanced across at her, a challenge in his eyes. “Race?” Not waiting for an answer, he urged Evenstar into the trees. She sent Alba after him, ducking snow-laden branches, twisting and turning along the narrow paths. She laughed as the snow crystals sprayed her face. It felt good
to be out riding with her friend – like the old days back in Avalon, only colder. They pulled up, panting, in a holly glade surrounded by scarlet berries.

“You’re getting faster,” Rhianna observed.

Elphin smiled. “I have to keep up with you, in case you decide to have another duel with Mordred’s shadow while I’m not around.”

Rhianna sobered. She brushed some twigs from Excalibur’s scabbard and fiddled with Alba’s mane, still a bit disappointed her father’s ghost had not been waiting for them outside the gates. “So how do we find the Hunt?”

Elphin studied the wood. “We could always ride to the Lonely Tor and wait for them there. If we miss them, I could try using Merlin’s pathfinder to take us through the mists.”

“Not after what happened to Merlin!”
Rhianna frowned at him. “You said it might be a trap, remember? What if the shadrake comes again? Besides, I left the pathfinder in my room and the Tor’s several days’ ride away. Sir Bors would have a heart attack if we went missing for that long. I haven’t seen my father’s ghost since the battle, and Sir Lancelot’s ridden off with my mother. If I lose you as well, I don’t know what I’ll do.” The words stuck in her throat.

Elphin patted her arm. His fingers had calluses from the strings of his harp, but his touch remained gentle. “You’d still have Cai,” he teased. “He worships the ground you walk on.”

She scowled. “Great! A champion who can’t aim straight, drops his wooden sword at the first blow and falls off every time his horse goes faster than a trot!”

“That’s not fair,” Elphin said. “Cai’s trying his
best. It takes courage to learn to ride the way he did, chased by enemies and dragons. He looks after me in the squires’ dormitory, you know.”

Rhianna sighed. “I know. That reminds me… when Sir Lancelot comes back to lead the knights, we should ask him to show us that magic lance Cai told us about, the one he broke. If it’s the Lance of Truth, do you think you could use your harp to mend it? Then we’d have two of the Lights, so even if Mordred finds the Crown we should be able to hold Camelot against him.”

Elphin watched her with his violet eyes. “It’d be safer to take Excalibur back to Avalon now, if we can.”

She knew what he meant. Before she blooded the blade.

“Well, we can’t without Merlin’s help,
can we?” she said impatiently. “So I might as well use it in the meantime. I’m not intending to fight Mordred myself. The knights will do that.” But even as she spoke, she imagined Alba rearing over her cowering cousin while she sliced Excalibur across his arrogant smile.

“Rhia,” Elphin said in a gentle voice. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“At the meeting in the Great Hall, when I played my harp, I
stopped
the magic. That’s why you couldn’t contact anyone with Excalibur.”

She blinked at him. “You stopped the magic?” Confusion filled her. “But… why?”

“There were a lot of unarmed knights sitting around that table. I couldn’t risk Mordred’s magic influencing you again. But don’t worry, because I’m sure Father will know what to do.”
He reached for his harp. “Keep quiet a moment. I think this will work.” He ran his fingers across the strings and a wild trill rippled out into the wood.

She felt dizzy. She had never heard him play such music before, and it made her hair stand on end. She scowled at her friend, unable to believe he had tricked her. Did he really think she wasn’t strong enough to control her sword? She opened her mouth to tell him not to be so silly, and that the Hunt could be anywhere – it would never hear him. Then something came rushing through the trees towards them. Alba misted under her, but she somehow stayed in the saddle.

You did not fall off me
, the mare said, pleased.

There was no time to think about this. A third horse had joined them, pale and luminous as their own mounts. It pawed the
snow and snorted. Its rider wore a circlet of gold around his wild black hair. His cloak of midnight blue brushed the ground, glittering with mist magic. His purple gaze fixed on Excalibur, and the jewel warmed under Rhianna’s palm in response.

“
Faha’ruh
,” said the newcomer, raising his six-fingered hand.

“Father!” Elphin said, his face lighting up with relief and joy. “You came!”

“Lord Avallach,” Rhianna said warily. She started to wonder if the Avalonian lord and his son had planned from the start to bring her here alone with the Sword of Light. She gripped Alba’s reins, ready to turn and gallop if she needed to. “Is Merlin with you? We lost him in the mists. He said he’d meet us at Camelot, but he hasn’t turned up yet.”

The Avalonian lord regarded her kindly. “I’m sorry to say we found Merlin’s body under the water on our way out of Avalon. His druid spirit was gone from it.”

Rhianna clenched her fists. So Mordred had been telling the truth about that, at least. “Do you know where it went?”

“No, my child, I’m afraid not. Druids have their own ways of escaping death. But we heard your call. We’ve been hunting the souls released from their bodies by the battle. They gave us a good chase. After we’ve taken them into the mists, we’ll be heading back to Avalon. If you wish you can ride with us. But we have to go now. The Hunt must return before nightfall.”

Rhianna became aware of more luminous horses in the woods around them. Their riders rustled through the branches, ghostly and
transparent, reminding her of the pale knights in the Great Hall of Camelot. Some were human – ancient heroes reborn to ride again. Tied over the mist horses’ saddles, thin twists of darkness writhed and screamed with faint men’s voices. She looked anxiously for her father’s ghost, but to her relief he was not among them.

She shivered. “You mean… take our souls?” she whispered.

“Don’t be silly,” Elphin said. But he eyed his father a bit uncertainly.

“I mean, Rhianna Pendragon, that it’s time for you to choose. You can ride Alba back to Avalon with us now. Or you can choose to stay in the world of men with your own people. But be warned. If you stay, you might never see your father again.”

Another shiver went through her. “But surely my father will return to Camelot when he’s reborn?” She rested her hand on Excalibur’s white jewel. Just let him try lying to her.

The Avalonian lord tightened his lips. “The mists are thickening. The dark powers of Annwn grow stronger by the day. Even the Hunt found the way difficult this year. No, my child. Arthur will remain with us for many years yet.”

As Rhianna tried to think, they heard twigs snapping in the trees behind them and shrill voices in the distance. She thought she heard Cai calling her name. The Avalonian host rippled uneasily, and the bound souls twisted and screamed.

“Hurry!” said Lord Avallach. “Make your choice, or we might have to take your friends’ souls with us when we leave.”

Rhianna sat very straight in her saddle. She thought briefly of being back in Avalon, safe from her cousin Mordred and the dark magic of Annwn. Then she thought of the mother she had not yet met, of Arianrhod and Cai and all the people back at Camelot relying on the Sword of Light to protect them, and of her father’s voice saying “
Courage, daughter
”. Even if she had been imagining his ghost, she couldn’t abandon her new friends to Mordred’s bloodbeards.

“I’m staying!” she said. “I’m not afraid.”

“I’m staying with Rhianna,” Elphin said quickly, his fingers tightening on his reins.

She gave him a surprised glance.

Lord Avallach frowned at his son. “Are you sure? The world of men has already scarred your hands. It may scar you many more times before you are finished here.”

“I know that, Father,” Elphin said. “But humans get hurt all the time and they just put up with it. I have my magic. It’s not so bad.”

Lord Avallach sighed and turned his purple gaze on Rhianna. “I can understand why you should want to stay among your own people, and it’s clear you’ve enchanted my son with your human spirit. If he wants to watch you grow old, then that’s up to him. But give me the Sword of Light so I can return it safely to Avalon.” He held out his hand.

“No,” Rhianna said, keeping her own hand on the white jewel. Her heart beat faster. “I need it.”

“Better do what he says, Rhia!” Elphin hissed as his father’s gaze darkened. “Quickly!”

“If Mordred gets hold of all four Lights our magic will fail, and King Arthur will never be reborn,” Lord Avallach warned.

“So everyone keeps telling me! I
know
.”

“Then give Excalibur to me, my child, and I will keep the Sword of Light safe from Mordred until Arthur wakes to carry it again.”

“Which will not be in my lifetime, will it?” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “That’s what none of you dared tell me! You let me think I’d live to see my father reborn. I want to know the truth! Will King Arthur return to Camelot if I give you Excalibur?”

“No,” Lord Avallach said with a sigh. “Arthur’s body is not healing as well as it should, and his spirit still roams the mortal world. It’s no good the Hunt taking it back by force, even if we could catch it. An unwilling soul cannot be reunited with its body. Things have gone very wrong here in the world of men. Your father made mistakes. Mordred’s poisoned
what could have been the greatest kingdom on earth. The balance of power must be restored, and the surviving Lights kept out of the dark knight’s hands. Then, maybe, another king will be born strong enough to heal the land. But it’s unlikely to be Arthur. He lost his chance when Mordred’s blood stained Excalibur.”

“But Lady Nimue said she’d cleansed the blade,” Rhianna said.

Lord Avallach rode his horse closer and touched the glowing hilt. “The blade, yes. But Excalibur’s true magic lies in this jewel, which can call on the spirits of everyone the Pendragon knighted with it, living or dead. Arthur used it well. I sense the strength of many brave men in here, but I also sense a darker presence… your cousin Mordred’s. I can’t remove the dark spirit without destroying the others – they are too
tangled together. Only unforging the sword will cleanse it completely of Mordred’s influence, and that can be done nowhere but in Avalon. I’m sorry, child.”

Rhianna’s head spun. So that was what Nimue had meant when she’d said she couldn’t cleanse the hilt? Spirit magic. The strength of a hundred men… Sir Bors, Sir Bedivere, Sir Agravaine, all those dead knights… and Mordred. The very thought made her want to cast the sword from her in disgust. But she kept her hand firm on the white jewel.

“I’ll find a way to control it,” she said through gritted teeth. “We’ll mend the Lance of Truth and find the Crown of Dreams. The Grail of Stars as well, if we need to! That’ll heal King Arthur and get rid of Mordred, won’t it?”

“
The Grail
,” whispered the Avalonian host.

A hush fell over the clearing. Even the screaming souls quietened. Lord Avallach stared at her with fierce interest, much as Merlin had done at the start of their quest back in Avalon. “It’s true the old songs say whoever holds all four Lights can command death itself,” he said. “But what makes you think a damsel can succeed where so many of Arthur’s best knights failed?”

“This!” Rhianna said, drawing Excalibur in a shining hiss of sparks. The Avalonians sucked in their breath as she showed their lord the gleaming silver blade. “I carried the Sword of Light in battle, fought a dragon, made peace with the Saxons and kept it clean. Look! That’s more than my father managed to do, isn’t it?”

Lord Avallach did not flinch. “You’ve been strong enough to resist Mordred’s influence
so far. But if you keep this sword, the forces of Annwn will never cease from tempting you into using it for evil. See how sharp Excalibur is? See how easy it would be to fail your quest…?” He ran his thumbnail along the edge, shaving off a pale curl, and suddenly closed his hand on the shining blade. “Let me take the temptation from you, child.”