King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3 (42 page)

Britt twirled a lock of hair around her finger and thought. Ywain wasn’t the only person she had discussed the role of kings, knights, and courts with. She had a similar talk with his aunt, Queen Morgause. Before the Orkney queen left Camelot after an extended stay, Britt promised that she would try to improve the living conditions for mankind—women in particular.

Since making that promise she had done very little to make it a reality.

Yes, this was her chance to change history, to kick out Lancelot and avoid Guinevere altogether. But the sound of Guinevere’s heartbroken cries and her hopeless laugh echoed in Britt’s ears. Britt opened her eyes. “Then I will
make
it be so.”

A slow smile spread across Merlin’s lips. He leaned in so close Britt could feel his breath on her face. “There’s my red dragon. What did you have in mind, oh King?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Try me.”

“I’m going to challenge Maleagant.”

“
WHAT?
”

“I have a white charger as well. He is well trained and has been used in tournaments by some of the greatest knights. I paid a pretty price for him,” the merchant—Merlin’s Minion—said as Gawain buckled pauldrons on Britt’s shoulders.

“I don’t intend to joust, it will be a trial by sword,” Britt said, adjusting her gauntlets. The armor she was borrowing from Merlin’s merchant friend was lovely—polished to shine and inlaid with gold—although it did not fit her as well as the suit of armor the blacksmiths of Camelot had forged for her over the winter months. What was important, though, was that the armor had no marks of any kind. Britt’s personal armor was etched with red dragons. Her borrowed armor was beautiful, but provided anonymity with its lack of decoration.

“You will still need a horse, My Lord,” Gawain quietly said, checking the snugness of the pauldrons.

“You will look a great deal more poetic riding a charger up to Duke Maleagant rather than walking, My Lord,” Lancelot said.

“All of you hush up. Arthur hardly needs more encouragement,” Merlin complained.

“I’m going to be fine, Merlin,” Britt said.

Britt had confidence in her sword skills. She was a greatly celebrated swordsman in the twenty first century, but it had taken some months of living in Camelot before Britt was convinced she was still considered devastatingly skilled.

Merlin approached Britt, twitching the faulds covering her thighs into place. “I know you have a right to be confident, Arthur, but one day you’re going to meet someone who is a better swordsman than you,” Merlin said.

“Unlikely,” Gawain said.

“I cannot wait to observe your skills, My Lord. I heard much of your prowess with the sword during my stay at Camelot,” said Sir Lancelot. “Although I am disappointed it will not be a jousting match. T’would be much more fitting.”

“My Lord’s skill with Excalibur is more beautiful than a joust,” Gawain said, fiddling with armor.

“I’ll be fine,” Britt said to Merlin. “I doubt Maleagant has had the time practice as I have,” Britt said, slipping on the gauntlets.

Merlin pressed his lips together but said nothing.

Lancelot filled the silence with no difficulty. “This is exciting. I think one day it shall be made into a song the troubadours will sing of for eons. How often does a king ride off to save his beloved and challenge a blackguard duke to battle for her hand?”

“Wait a moment, I never said Guinevere was my beloved,” Britt said.

Lancelot stared at Britt. “She’s not?”

“Of course she isn’t,” Britt said as Gawain checked the last of her armor. “To begin with she’s a silly little thing who is overly concerned with wealth. And I’ve only seen her three times, that is not enough time to get to know her and fall in love with her.”

“But what of love at first sight? Did she not enthrall you with her beauty?” Lancelot persisted.

Britt narrowed her eyes at the vivacious knight. “Why do I suspect you have already thought yourself to have fallen in love numerous times?”

Merlin eyed Britt in warning as the merchant guffawed. Gawain ignored the situation and bet over to check the plate mail covering Britt’s feet.

Lancelot blinked. “Women are meant to be admired.”

Britt was grateful Lancelot was standing far across the room. If he was any closer she would be too tempted to smack him.

“So you will need the charger?” the merchant asked.

Britt looked to Merlin who nodded. “Yes, please. You’ll have him prepared?”

The merchant sketched a bow. “I expected My Lord’s need of a mount, and sent word to the groom when I sought out the armor.”

Gawain stood, inspecting the armor one last time. “You are ready, My Lord.”

Merlin tilted his head, his eyes directed upwards. “And just in time. If I am not mistaken I hear horns and drums. King Leodegrance is leaving the keep.”

“In that case we must hurry. This way, please,” the merchant said, leading the way to the small lot behind his store.

Outside a young groom waited with a milk white horse. The charger’s equipment was white, unadorned, and startling in its simplicity.

“If this animal throws Arthur I will have your head,” Merlin warned the merchant.

Britt mounted the horse, who was a bit taller than she was used to, before she put her helm on. “No worries, Merlin. All he has to do is carry me up to Maleagant,” she said, gathering up the reins.

“Godspeed, my Lord,” Gawain said.

“I don’t understand the fuss over a horse,” Lancelot complained.

“We don’t expect you to,” Britt said.

“This way, My Lord. You need to hurry. The gates will soon open,” the merchant said, leading the way to the main road that ambled through the castle.

Britt nudged the warhorse forward, joining the rush of gawkers and guards who were traveling to the front gates of Camelgrance.

King Leodegrance, a squad of soldiers, his wife, and Guinevere exited Camelgrance a minute before Britt.

More soldiers and many of Camelgrance’s citizens flocked outside, anxious to see what was to become of their home.

Britt followed the crowd outside, but rather than standing with the masses she directed her horse behind a soldier bearing Leodegrance’s flag, intending to hide since she stuck out like a sore thumb as the only armored knight in the entire company.

Merlin, Gawain, and Lancelot joined her. Merlin held the bridle of Britt’s mount while Lancelot craned his neck to see.

Maleagant, wearing armor and riding his red roan horse, brandished a lance in the air. “King Leodegrance of Camelgrance. What is your decision, are you friend or foe?”

“I am your friend,” King Leodegrance said.

“Then you will give me your daughter Guinevere as my bride and prove to me your loyalty?” Maleagant demanded. His voice was hoarse and unfriendly.

“What a blackguard,” Lancelot said.

Gawain nodded, but Britt hissed, “Quiet.”

King Leodegrance’s expression grew pinched. “How would you have me prove myself?”

“Break off your alliance with Arthur and march with me to Camelot,” Maleagant said.

“Isn’t it enough to pledge loyalty to you?” King Leodegrance said. “Gladly I would give you my daughter.”

Guinevere, mounted on a small palfrey, stared at her hands. Her face was red, probably from all the crying, but she wore a beautiful dress and her hair was carefully arranged.

“If you remain allies with Arthur you are no friend of mine,” Maleagant said.

“Lad, now,” Merlin said.

Britt nudged her horse forward, leaving her companions behind. Gawain bowed and Lancelot beamed as he pumped an arm in encouragement.

“Could I have more time to consider your request?” King Leodegrance asked.

“No.”

King Leodegrance’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Then…,” he trailed off and fell silent as Britt directed her horse into the gap between Maleagant and King Leodegrance’s family.

“Who is this?” Maleagant demanded.

“I know not. Sir Knight, why are you here?” King Leodegrance asked.

Britt slid Excalibur out of its scabbard and brandished it in the air. She waited for a moment, looking quite picturesque, and then swung Excalibur down in an arc and thrust it in Maleagant’s direction. While prepping for battle Merlin told her to keep her mouth shut and say nothing. “Let them draw their own conclusions. If Leodegrance discovers you’re King Arthur we’ll never be able to refuse his request to make Guinevere your bride,” Merlin had warned.

Although Britt was moved by the girl’s plight, in no way was Britt going to welcome the faithless girl into Camelot. She would remain silent to the bitter end.

Maleagant flipped up the visor of his helm so he could peer at Britt. He had beady eyes, and his face looked like someone had taken a mace to it on several different occasions. “You mean to challenge me for the Lady Guinevere.”

Britt dismounted her borrowed horse and bowed.

“Very well, champion. I will face you with great eagerness,” Maleagant said, an evil grin crawling across his lips as he hefted his lance.

Britt quickly raised Excalibur, pointing it at Maleagant.

“I think he means for it to be a contest of swords,” King Leodegrance ventured in the silence.

“Fine,” Maleagant said, handing his lance off to one of his men before he too dismounted. “Be it by sword or lance, I shall beat you soundly.”

Britt eased into an offensive stance, studying Maleagant through the slits of her helm. She hated fighting in full armor thanks to its added weight. But in spite of what she learned in her history classes, her armor was easy to maneuver in and barely hindered her movements.

Maleagant stiffly strode towards Britt, walking bowlegged. He unsheathed his sword and roared like a bear.

Britt darted forward, striking first to gain the offensive advantage. Fighting and winning with the sword depended on going offensive and
staying
on the offense.

Britt drove Maleagant back, feinting an upper cut before reversing and striking from below. She rained blow after blow on Maleagant, who struggled to block and dodge the strikes.

The crowd from Camelgrance, which had first winced and watched with pain, started rustling with hope as Britt kicked Maleagant in the knee cap when he blocked her thrust to his right shoulder.

The kick hadn’t hurt—he was wearing armor after all—but it did make Maleagant take a tottering step backwards.

Exploiting his already tipsy balance, Britt dove forward and stabbed Excalibur at Maleagant’s foot, wedging it in between the armor covering his foot and his ankle.

She didn’t prick skin, but it hurt enough to make Maleagant fumble again. Britt jumped from the crouch she was in, using all her force to slam Maleagant in the helm with Excalibur’s pommel.

Maleagant’s head snapped backwards, and Britt helped him lie down by pushing on his chest with her forearms.

Britt kicked Maleagant’s sword away, placed her foot on his right wrist, and let the edge of Excalibur rest near a slit in Maleagant’s helm.

King Leodegrance, realizing Britt wasn’t going to talk, spoke for her. “Do you yield to my daughter’s champion, Duke Maleagant?” he eagerly asked, leaning forward off his horse.

Maleagant struggled, roaring with anger instead of replying.

Britt used her foot to kick Maleagant’s arm away from his body—still pinning it to the ground, before pressing Excalibur into his unprotected armpit.

Maleagant finally stilled, although Britt could tell he boiled with anger. His armor heaved up and down as he breathed inside his armor like a murderous dragon.

“I yield,” Maleagant snarled.

Chapter 5

A White Knight

Britt prodded him in the arm pit, letting Excalibur’s sharp tip poke the padding that leaked out under Maleagant’s pauldrons before she stepped back.

Some of Maleagant’s knights ran to their lord’s side, helping him stand even though he kicked at them.

“Now remember, Duke Maleagant. You said you would leave should a champion best you,” King Leodegrance eagerly said, satisfaction lining his voice and face. One could hardly tell a few short minutes ago he was close to sniveling.