Sword of Light (6 page)

“It’s all right,” she said, eager to find out as much as possible about her parents’ home. “Does the queen sit at the Round Table as well?”

“I dunno,” Cai said. “I never went in there when they discussed stuff – squires aren’t allowed to sit at the table till they get knighted. But now King Arthur’s dead and gone for ever,
I suppose no one will get knighted. Least not till we get another king at Camelot…”

“King Arthur’s not gone for ever,” Elphin corrected. “His body’s in Avalon, awaiting rebirth.”

“Really?” Cai looked interested. “Then you mean he’s goin’ to come back and save us from the Saxons and Prince Mordred, after all?”

“He might after I take him Excalibur,” Rhianna said.

Cai gave her an alarmed look. “I’d stay away from that sword if I were you, Damsel Rhianna! It feeds on people’s souls.”

“How?” Rhianna said, chilled. Maybe it had tried to swallow her father’s soul, and that was why he had ordered it thrown away?

But Cai wasn’t much help. He shrugged. “Magic, of course.” He turned back to Elphin,
his eyes shining. “So King Arthur’s in Lord Avallach’s palace? Just wait till I tell the other squires! Wonder what he’ll think of the place when he wakes up. I bet it isn’t half as grand as Camelot.”

“Does Camelot have walls of crystal that can show song-pictures, and enchanted caverns that keep people alive for ever?” Elphin said.

“We got dungeons,” Cai said, not to be outdone. “Though people don’t usually live too long down there.”

Soon the two boys were deep in an argument as to which world had the best royal building. When Elphin got out his harp and began to strum gently, Rhianna closed her eyes with a smile and let the music drift over her. Cai didn’t stand a chance.

She fell asleep thinking of her father’s body lying in Merlin’s boat and had the strangest dream.

The old druid limped up the hill towards the stone circle, stabbing his staff into the grass. He had the same bedraggled falcon’s feathers in his beard as the day he’d brought King Arthur to Avalon.

As he stepped between the stones, a fierce note made Rhianna’s ears ring, and there was a flash of silver light. She flinched as the druid turned his pale blue gaze upon her.

“Ah, there you are, Rhianna Pendragon!” he said in his grumpy manner. “I thought you might camp here. If you are dreaming this, something has gone wrong. Take the sword to Camelot and wait for me there. Do not try to use it! Do you hear? I will come to you as soon
as I can. If all else fails, I’ll send you my pathfinder…” His image wavered and blurred like a song-picture. “Look for the dragon… spirit transfer… beware Mordred.”

Her tongue unlocked. “Merlin! What dragon? Do you mean the shadrake that attacked us at the Tor? What’s a spirit transfer? I haven’t got Excalibur yet. Where are you? How do we find the lake? We need you—”

But there was another flash of light, and the druid vanished. Elphin had stopped playing, and the rest of her dreams were a confusion of black wings and swirling mist.

A big hand shook her awake. “Damsel Rhianna?” Sir Bors said gruffly. “It’s dawn. We should get going now.”

It began to rain again as they rejoined the Roman road, a fine drizzle that found its way into every gap of their clothing and hid their surroundings. Evenstar misted to avoid the worst of it, making Sir Agravaine, who rode at the back, blink and rub his eyes. Alba bent her head to her chest.
Water is getting in my ears
, the mare sulked.
I want to mist as well
.

“Don’t you dare,” Rhianna muttered. “If you make me fall off here, I’ll leave you at the next village and then you won’t get your apples.”

That stopped her mare complaining, but it didn’t stop the rain. While Cai chattered on about the great jousts they used to hold at Camelot before the Saxons came, Rhianna wrapped her cloak tightly around her and tried to recall the details of her dream. Look for the dragon… that could mean anything. There was
a dragon on her shield. What did he mean by a spirit transfer? And what on earth was a pathfinder? She shook her head. As if she didn’t have enough problems looking for Excalibur.

When she told Elphin about it, he frowned. “You probably dreamed of Merlin because we were talking about him earlier.”

“But you said those stones had power,” she reminded him. “What if it really was a message from Merlin? He might have come this way before us.”

“Then he’ll be at Camelot, won’t he?” Elphin said. “And you can ask him yourself.”

Cai shuddered. “I’m not surprised you had a nightmare about that dragon, Damsel Rhianna!” he said. “I did, too.”

“See?” Elphin said, smiling at the squire. “That shadrake scared us all.”

Rhianna sighed. Avalonians just didn’t understand dreams.

Soon they turned on to a smooth stone track worn by wagon wheels, with many foot and hoof prints showing in the muddy parts. They crossed a bridge and passed a laden cart, whose driver cheered the knights on. Sir Bors pushed his horse into a canter, and Rhianna began to feel excited again. Her mother would be at Camelot, she remembered. Tonight they would sleep in dry beds and eat decent food. Cai’s chatter was infectious, and even Sir Agravaine was smiling and joking with the others by the time they crested the final hill.

“Behold Royal Camelot, my lady!” Sir Bors said. But the words died on his lips, and he swore under his breath.

Rhianna’s heart gave an uneasy thud.
The white walls were just as Cai had described, gleaming through the drizzle like a mist horse’s coat, and damp banners flew from her towers. But her gates were firmly shut. They could see why. The ditches were dark with tents and makeshift shelters, while rough-looking men clad in soggy furs crawled up the lower terraces with siege catapults and ladders.

“Saxons!” Sir Agravaine growled. “Camped outside our very walls with their greedy eyes on Arthur’s treasure, no doubt! How dare they?”

“The king’s not here any more,” Sir Bedivere said. “Who’s to stop them?”

Sir Bors scowled at the dripping camp. “Well, they can sit there in the rain as long as they like! They won’t get through Camelot’s gates in a hurry!”

Sir Agravaine lowered his lance so it would
not be seen against the sky. He gave Rhianna a worried look. “With that lot down there,” he said grimly, “neither will we.”

5

Bloodbeards

“S
o what do we do now?” Sir Bedivere said in dismay, turning his agitated horse in circles, while Cai slid first one way and then the other on its wet rump.

“We have to rejoin the other knights, that’s obvious,” Sir Bors said. “Organise ourselves as
best we can and send that Saxon rabble packing. They’re only half an army without Mordred’s lot.”

“Ride back to camp with her?” Sir Agravaine looked pointedly at Rhianna. “She’d be safer in a nunnery somewhere. Mordred’s forces could be on their way back here even as we speak.”

“Mordred was badly wounded in the battle. They’ll tend to him first. And the Saxons are here, so there can’t be many of them left hanging around the battlefield – it just might be the safest place of all right now.”

“What if that witch-mother of his is still around, working her dark spells? We haven’t got Excalibur any more. We don’t even know if our camp’s still there.”

Sir Bors clenched a big fist. “Where else will the knights go, without Arthur? They ain’t here
at Camelot where they’re needed, that’s for sure!”

“Do you think the others will follow us?”

“They will when they see we’ve got Arthur’s daughter.”

“It’s too dangerous…”

Rhianna got fed up with them arguing over her head as if she were some sort of trophy, instead of a girl with feelings who had only a few days ago seen the body of her murdered father. The sight of the barbarian army so close made her stomach churn and her blood rise. Her father had been fighting these men when he died, and now they were camped outside the walls of Camelot. If the knights didn’t do something soon, her mother might be killed too.

She clenched her fists, making Alba prance. “Take me to the lake where you threw my father’s sword, and when I’ve got Excalibur back
I’ll
lead you against the Saxons! I’m not afraid.”

Cai gaped at her in admiration, and Elphin smiled.

But Sir Bors scowled. “Don’t be so silly, girl!
You
lead the knights? Do you think King Arthur’s sword is going to turn a half-grown damsel into a warrior, even if we can find it again, which I seriously doubt. The path to the lake vanished after the waters took it, and we ain’t got time to go gallivanting about on foolish quests now. We had quite enough of that with the Grail… been a lot better off if we’d all stayed at home and kept our eyes on young Mordred, if you ask me.”

“But Merlin said—”

“Merlin ain’t here!” Bors growled. “And until he turns up, we can’t risk no-one, Saxon or Briton, finding out who you are.”

Just then, they heard the tramp of feet and rough voices coming up the hillside from the camp. Sir Bors cursed. “Enough chatter. We’d best get out of here fast, before them Saxons spot us! Cai, hold on tight – don’t you dare fall off!”

Setting his heels to his horse, he led them away from the road at a pounding gallop into the fog. Sir Agravaine motioned them to follow, holding back his stallion to bring up the rear with the lance. Bedivere urged his chestnut after Sir Bors with a pale Cai clinging to his waist. Alba shook her damp mane and leaped after the bigger horses with an excited squeal. Elphin and Evenstar followed close behind. Rhianna forgot her frustration at the sight of the army and grinned as the mare’s hooves stretched over the springy turf and the rain half-blinded her. This was nearly as
much fun as their races back in Avalon!

When Sir Bors hauled his horse to a sudden stop, she almost galloped on past. But remembering what had happened to Merlin, she pulled up neatly behind him with the others. Then she saw what had stopped the knight: black wings gleaming through the rain ahead of them. At first, she thought the dragon had followed them. But she soon realised the wings were black metal at the top of a standard carried by a troop of wild-haired men on shaggy horses.

Sir Bors swore under his breath. “I
thought
we were being followed,” he muttered. “That’s Mordred’s eagle – the young fool must think he’s some sort of new-fangled emperor, sending his men riding about the countryside with it. Keep together!” he called, setting his heels
to his horse again. “We’ll lose them in this weather, if we’re lucky.”

Elphin flashed her a purple look, and they were off again.

As Alba passed Sir Bedivere’s horse, Rhianna gave Cai an encouraging grin. The squire did not grin back. He was clinging to Sir Bedivere’s cloak, bouncing like a sack on the poor chestnut’s hindquarters. They heard a shout behind as Mordred’s men gave chase, then Sir Bors led them downhill seeking cover. This was harder. As the hillside grew steeper and rockier, the mist horses balanced themselves with ease, Evenstar misting to avoid the rocks and Alba jumping them. But Sir Bedivere’s horse stumbled and Cai lost his hold on the knight’s cloak. He tumbled over the chestnut’s tail and landed in a gorse bush with a yelp.

I am glad he was not riding me,
Alba said.

Sir Bedivere’s horse plunged on, the reins too slippery for him to stop. Sir Agravaine passed the boy at full gallop and yelled, “Stay down! They mightn’t see you!” Sir Bors’ bay had already vanished into the fog.

“Don’t leave me!” Cai wailed.

Rhianna didn’t hesitate. If these men had killed a king, they wouldn’t stop at murdering a squire. She wheeled Alba, with Elphin and Evenstar close behind. Cai was running after them, screaming at them to stop, chased by a large black horse. As its rider raised his bow and took aim at the puffing squire, Rhianna headed Alba towards him and dragged the shield off her back. Behind her, Elphin pulled his harp out of its bag.

“Cai!” she called, throwing the shield at
the boy as she galloped past. “Catch!”

Cai dived for the shield, a look of relief in his eyes. But it turned out he could catch no better than he could ride. The shield slipped through his grasping hands and rolled under his pursuer’s hooves, while the arrow – cheated of its target – hissed straight for Rhianna.

The first few notes from Elphin’s harp glittered out into the rain, but too late. She just had time to hear Sir Bors yell a challenge as he galloped back up the gorge, and saw his sword flash out of its scabbard. Then the arrow thumped into her breast and she seemed to hang in midair while Alba raced on into the cloud.

Everything went very quiet. Surprisingly, there was no pain, just a warm glow that made her whole body tingle. She felt as if all she had to do was spread her arms and fly away.
Is this what it feels like to die?
she thought.

Through a hole in the mist, she saw a ghostly figure standing on the crest of the hill staring at Camelot’s towers. Light shimmered from his cloak and his flowing hair. He had his back to her but he seemed strangely familiar.

“Father…?” she whispered, afraid to break the spell.

The ghost turned his head and gave her a startled look.

Then sky and hillside whirled into one, and she started to fall.

She came round lying on her back amidst a confusion of trampling hooves. Someone was sobbing. The sound reminded her of the Avalonians mourning King Arthur’s death.
She brushed wet hair from her face and knocked the arrow off her breast. Remembering her vision, she quickly sat up and looked for the shining figure on the hill. But the ghost had gone.

“Girl’s still alive!” someone grunted in surprise.

Hands gripped her elbows and dragged her up from her grassy bed, bringing her face to face with the winged standard. She swallowed her scream and shook her head to clear it of stars. Had she really seen her father’s ghost? The strange warmth still tingled through her body. At least it had stopped raining.

Cai sobbed in the grip of a dark-haired man wearing a dented bronze breastplate. A second man had hold of Elphin. The Avalonian prince stood very erect and still, his purple eyes fixed on
Rhianna. Evenstar pawed the ground, held by a third man who had also taken Elphin’s harp. Sir Bors’ sword and the dragon shield were being examined by the leader of the group, who had blue spirals on his cheeks and a filthy, matted beard. Sir Bors knelt in the wet grass, his arms tied behind him and a fresh cut across his eye. A spear pricked his throat. Off in the mist she could hear the Saxons from the camp chasing the other two knights, and hoped they would get away.

“So… not dead after all,” said the leader with an accent as wild as his looks. He tossed the shield to one of his men and fingered her Avalon armour where the arrow had bounced off. “Not only a damsel dressed up like a knight, but one who leads a charmed life, it seems.” He leaned closer. His breath stank. “What’s your name, lassie?”

Sir Bors stared at Rhianna with anguish in his eyes. “She’s nobody, a girl we picked up from one of the villages is all—”

“No one asked you!” The leader clouted the big knight. “You’ve led us a merry dance through those cursed marshes. You’ll get your chance to sing later. Right now, I’m talking to the maid.” He bared his teeth at Rhianna. “I serve your new Pendragon, Prince Mordred. Men call us bloodbeards because we drink the blood of our enemies. If you don’t want your companions’ blood to fill our cups tonight, I suggest you answer.”

Rhianna’s heart twisted in fear for her friends, and she wanted to ask Elphin if he’d seen King Arthur’s ghost too. But she stared the bloodbeard in the eye, her heart thumping. “Let them go, and then maybe I’ll tell you.”

He smiled coldly. “Oh, I think not. This is the Pendragon’s shield. But where is Arthur’s sword? Because Prince Mordred wants it. And what have you done with his body? Because Prince Mordred wants that, too. Well, the head at least… though maybe your champion’s head would do instead?” He swung the sword at Sir Bors, and chuckled when the big knight flinched.

Rhianna glared at their captor. “Then Prince Mordred can’t have what he wants!” she said. “Because the sword’s at the bottom of a lake, and King Arthur’s safe in Avalon.”

She held her breath and eyed the hill again. Could her father’s ghost hear her?

Elphin shook his head frantically at her. Sir Bors closed his eyes in despair. But Cai sniffed back his sobs and gave her a hopeful
look – maybe he expected her to break free and overcome the entire troop of Mordred’s bloodbeards and their Saxon friends
single-handedly
? She eyed the dagger their captors had confiscated from the squire, but soon gave up the idea. The fingers digging into her arms were too tight. For the first time in her life, she felt small. These men in their leather and bronze were so tall and strong. They towered over poor Elphin and Cai. Their scarred hands looked as if they could crush an Avalonian’s bones.

The captain with his blue-painted face seemed even more frightening. He grinned again. “The maid’s got more spirit than all Arthur’s knights put together!” he said, giving her another blast of bad breath “Nice try, lassie, but I saw Prince Mordred kill the king with my own eyes. No doubt his knights have
hidden his body someplace. No matter. We’ll find it in the end, as we’ll find his magic sword. A lake, you say? I don’t suppose you happen to know which one?”

“No she don’t,” Bors said. “I told you, she’s just some village girl we picked up on our way. Leave her alone!”

“But you do, maybe…” The bloodbeard gave him a sharp look. “No matter, you’ll tell me later.” He returned his attention to Rhianna. “Village girl, eh? Where did you get the fancy armour?”

She stole it
, Elphin whispered under his breath, making the strings of his harp shiver.

“Steal it, did you?” said their captor, blinking as her friend’s magic reached him.

Rhianna swallowed her angry words and glanced gratefully at Elphin. “Yes,” she said.
“That’s right! I, ah, stole it off a dead man on the battlefield. I…” What would a girl in the world of men want with armour? “I thought it looked pretty,” she finished.

“Common thieves, then,” the bloodbeard growled, losing interest in her. “Shame it looks too small for me. Does a good job, it seems – unlike your champion here.” He kicked Sir Bors in the ribs, making the big knight grunt in pain.