Grail of Stars (6 page)

“Sir Galahad!” she called. “You promised to take me to your mother’s castle, remember?”

The ship slowed, and the ghostly knight eyed her sword. “Don’t try to control me with your magic, Princess – I nearly ran you down!
I thought you would be alone. I cannot take my father Lancelot as well. He failed the test of the Grail.”

“Sir Lancelot only came to look after the queen,” Rhianna said quickly. “He’s taking her back to Camelot now. I can come with you, can’t I? I haven’t failed the Grail test.” She thought uneasily of Lady Nimue’s final riddle about the fourth Light, that she had yet to answer correctly:
What does the Grail contain
? “I’ll need my maid, too,” she added.

Back on shore, Arianrhod had finally caught up and was staring, wide-eyed, at the ship. Sir Galahad frowned at the girl as she led her pony closer. “Isn’t that Morgan Le Fay’s maid?”

“Not any more,” Rhianna said. “She’s my friend now.”

“I am forbidden to take anyone living who
is not on a Grail Quest,” the ghostly knight insisted. “It’s against the rules of this ship.”

“Arianrhod’s mother was a Grail maiden,” Rhianna said, getting impatient with all the magical rules. “And she hasn’t seen her since she was a baby, so she
is
on a Grail Quest… Sort of, anyway.” She clutched Excalibur tighter and hardened her voice. “I’m King Arthur’s daughter. I can’t travel alone. If you won’t take us, I’ll follow you on Alba until you do.”

“She will, too,” muttered Gareth’s ghost. “And that’s a fairy horse she’s riding, so you might as well let her come.”

Sir Galahad frowned at the squire. He gave Alba a closer look and turned his ship back towards the shore. “Hurry up then, Princess. The way between worlds will not stay open for long.”

As the big curved prow nudged the beach, the men closed protectively around their queen. Sir Lancelot scowled as a rope ladder swung over the side.

“Don’t even think about it, Princess,” he growled, trotting his stallion towards Rhianna. “Your mother will never forgive me if I let you go sailing off into the mist after a Grail that killed my son and half Arthur’s knights too! Nobody returns alive after seeing that thing.”

“I will return.” Rhianna rode Alba around the prow to evade the knight. Excitement shivered through her. “Take my pack and get on board, Arianrhod,” she whispered as she passed the maid. “I’m coming too, don’t worry.”

Arianrhod still looked scared. But she lifted Rhianna’s pack containing the Crown of Dreams off Sandy’s back, waded into the
shallows and clambered awkwardly up the ladder. Sir Lancelot urged his horse into the water to stop the maid.

Rhianna gripped Excalibur tighter and concentrated, reaching for Sir Lancelot’s spirit. She’d never tried to control her father’s champion knight before, and her heart thumped.

“Sir Lancelot!” she ordered. “By this Sword that is linked to your knightly spirit, I command you! Take my mother back to Camelot, then ride to the Lonely Tor and find Cai and Elphin and the others. I’ll meet you there. If I don’t return with the Grail of Stars before midsummer, then you’re to take the Lance of Truth back to Camelot and wait for me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Excalibur’s blade brightened, and the white
jewel on its hilt flashed at the sound of her voice.

Sir Lancelot spun his horse in a circle and glared at her. He did not seem to know which of them to come after first. Rhianna smiled and trotted Alba a bit further away from Arianrhod and the ship. Maybe this would be easier than she’d thought? Then the queen shouted, “Don’t just stand there, Lancelot! My daughter’s not sailing off on a ghost ship to God knows where! Stop them!”

Lancelot shook his head, as if waking from a daze. He urged his stallion deeper, trying to catch Arianrhod’s wrist. But the horse, up to its belly now in the lake, refused to go near the ship with the two ghosts on deck. It reared and spun round, and Sir Lancelot – caught off balance – fell off over its tail with a loud splash.
Arianrhod giggled as the knight struggled to his feet, spluttering and spitting out the shining water.

Even though she felt bad about using the Sword of Light against her father’s champion, Rhianna smiled too. “You can’t stop us going,” she called. “So don’t try to follow us. Your horses can’t gallop across water like Alba so you’ll have to swim, and then you might drown like poor Gareth did.”

“We’ll see about that!” Lancelot struggled chest-deep through the water on foot, and made a final grab for the ladder. But it swung out of reach as Arianrhod reached the top and pulled the ladder up after her. The ship glided away from the shore, and Rhianna trotted Alba around the floundering knight to follow.

“
Rhianna!
” Queen Guinevere wailed.
“Rhianna darling, come back…” The men made a half-hearted attempt to give chase, but shook their heads when their horses refused to enter the water too.

Rhianna held Excalibur shining over her head, using its magic to stop Sir Lancelot from trying to swim after them, until the ship had reached deeper water. Then she sheathed her sword and galloped Alba after the ghostly vessel, her mare’s enchanted horseshoes skimming across the surface of the lake. With the spray on her cheeks and her hair tugging loose from its braids, she laughed.

Her mother would worry, but that couldn’t be helped. Looking for the Grail was more important than decorating Camelot with flowers.

D
ARK
C
APTIVE

“
M
-my lord?” A timid finger poked Mordred’s mortal hand. “There’s a boat coming through the mist… you said to wake you if anyone came across from the mainland.”

“I
said
not to touch me!” Mordred snatched his fist to his chest and glared at the woman who had woken him. It took him a moment to recognise Gareth’s mother, who looked more skeletal than Uther’s warriors since he’d drowned her son. She was breathing hard from her run up the hill to the chapel. He checked his hand, but she had not
tried to remove the gauntlet – as if she’d dare.

He strode to the window and peered into the mist. His shadow-eyes were much sharper than his old mortal eyes, but even they could not see through the enchantments that surrounded the Tor. He saw his bloodbeards running along the beach with drawn weapons, followed by the screeching shadrake. The villagers watched silently from the doors of their huts, and the monks crossed themselves.

On the water, Mordred made out a blurred shape shining silver-bright. Green mist swirled around it, but he knew magic when he saw it.

Excitement stirred as a white horse emerged briefly from the mist and shook its mane. Its rider looked up at the Tor, something shining in its hand. “That’s no boat, woman!
Don’t you know a mist horse of Avalon when you see one?”

He had not expected his cousin so soon. But maybe she had given up on her doomed quest for the Grail of Stars, and was bringing the other three Lights to Avalon to see if they would work without the fourth? He was ready to give her the shock of her life.

Howling eagerly, Uther’s ghosts chased the fairy horse back into the mist. Flashes of silver and green lit up the horizon, and faint shouts carried over the water. Mordred thought he saw a ship with billowing white sails and the fairy horse galloping after it, riderless. Then the stupid shadrake shrieked and flapped after them, and both ship and horse vanished in a flash of white light. After a pause, the dragon reappeared chasing
something small and dark that dived into the sea.

His bloodbeards splashed into the shallows with shouts of: “Get him!… Don’t let him get away!… Watch its claws!… Look out!”

Blinded by the flash, at first Mordred could not see what was happening. Then his captain emerged dragging something through the water that splashed and struggled. He squinted at it eagerly. Had they managed to capture his cousin?

But the captive remained a blur of light and shadow, and it looked much too small to be human… the magic must have confused him.

He seized the woman’s hair and dragged her to the window.

“Look there!” he growled. “What do you see?”

She blinked at the bloodbeard, who was now striding up the winding path to the chapel.

“Your c-captain, my lord,” she said. “Carrying some kind of hawk.”

“A hawk? Are you sure?”

Mordred pushed the woman aside. Now he could see it too – a bundle of bedraggled blue feathers hanging upside down in his bloodbeard’s grip.

He laughed. “It’s Merlin! Better a bird in the hand than a dragon in the mist, wouldn’t you agree?”

Gareth’s mother gave him another frightened look.

“Well, don’t just stand there, woman! Bring me that candelabra from the altar – our guest will need a perch when he arrives.
Then get back down to the beach and tell my men to keep a good lookout out for that ship. We don’t want any nasty surprises.”

He waited until his bloodbeard captain had leashed the soggy merlin to the candelabra. Then he lit the candles to form a cage of fire, and watched the bird curiously. Was the druid’s spirit still trapped inside its little body?

The merlin flapped upside down, spraying water and making the flames hiss. Mordred let it tire itself out and reached over the nearest candle with his shadow-hand. He lifted the exhausted bird back on to the candelabra, where it glared at him, beak open and wings spread.

“Such a fragile body,” Mordred said. “I’m surprised you’re still using it, druid. The mist
magic too much for you these days, eh? That’s the trouble when you grow old and slow. You start to make mistakes. Don’t worry, though, we’ll soon have you dried out.”

The merlin beat its wings in anger. Sparks flew as its feathers brushed the candle flames.

Mordred laughed. “Be careful, druid. Fire hurts, and I should know. I assume you’re here because your knights found the squire’s body? So sad, a young boy drowning like that, but these marshes are dangerous places for the unwary.”

The merlin screeched and stabbed his shadow-hand with its beak.

Mordred laughed and wriggled his fingers. “Can’t harm
this
body, druid,” he said.

The merlin screeched again.

“What was that?” Mordred leaned closer,
pretending to listen. “Oh yes, I forgot – I can’t hear what you’re saying unless I’m holding one of the Lights. But my cousin has the Sword, her useless squire has the Lance, the Crown is at Camelot, and the Grail is still lost. How annoying! You’ll just have to wait until she brings Excalibur here before you can talk to me. I assume that was her riding her fairy horse out in the mist with you so she shouldn’t be long now. Then you can tell me how to take my men through the mists to Avalon. I’ve some unfinished business with my dear Uncle Arthur.”

The merlin stuck its head under its wing.

Behind him, his captain cleared his throat. Mordred frowned. He had forgotten the bloodbeard was still there. “What?” he said.

“Er, sorry to interrupt, master… but I think
the fairy horse was being ridden by the Avalonian boy.”

Mordred gave him a frustrated look. “What about that ship I saw?”

“We didn’t see anybody else, master.”

Mordred grabbed the merlin’s tail. “If this is some kind of trick…” But he’d forgotten to use his shadow-hand. The merlin’s sharp beak stabbed his gauntlet, and green pus oozed out as its talons sank into his wrist. He shook the bird off and hugged his throbbing hand to his chest.

“You’ll be sorry you did that!” he yelled. “I don’t need to keep you alive if the fairy prince is here with your druid charm – he can show us the way to Avalon. You’ll be much more use as lunch.”

But as he gripped the bird’s neck, the
bloodbeard cleared his throat again. Mordred scowled. “What
now
?” he snapped.

“Er, what if the fairy drowned, master? I’ve heard they don’t swim too well…”

Mordred unclenched his fist and his temper cooled.

He scowled at the bedraggled bird. “You’ve had a lucky escape, druid.” Ignoring the merlin’s scolding, he turned his scowl on the bloodbeard. “What are you still doing here? Go find me the rider of that fairy horse… bring whoever it is to me, dead or alive. And while you’re at it, find a hood for this hawk. That’ll keep it quiet until I know if we need its help. Quickly, man –
run
!”

The bloodbeard ran.