Sword of Camelot (10 page)

“This won't take long.” He gave a loud cry and said, “Now, Sir Reb, you'll see what it means to meet the powers
of the Dark Lord's servants!” He touched his spurs to the horse and galloped straight at Reb.

Elaine did not see clearly what happened, but she saw Reb hold up something that caught the glint of the sunlight and heard him cry out some strange words. At the same time Sir Baloc pulled his horse up sharply. Then he uttered a hoarse cry, turned, and galloped away as if all the knights of the kingdom were after him.

Elaine gasped and shock ran over her.

Then, suddenly Reb was there! He leaned from his horse and said. “Princess Elaine, are you all right?”

“Oh, yes,” she said quickly Then she looked after the fleeing Baloc in bewilderment. “But what happened? Why did he run away?”

“He was afraid that he would die, so he ran—like the coward that he is.” He laughed aloud, and there was a note of victory in his voice as he said, “Come along, Princess. I'll get you a horse, and we'll get you back to your family.”

* * *

When Sir Reb led the Princess Elaine through the gates of Camelot, a cry went up such as had not been heard in many a year. The air was filled with hats thrown up by jubilant men, and a pressing throng surrounded the pair as they made their way toward the castle.

Reb had removed his armor, and Wash was following far behind with the pack animal.

Wash was joined almost at once by Elendar, who appeared out of nowhere. “How did this happen, my son?” Elendar demanded.

Wash shook his head. “I don't know. I never saw nothing like it.” He related how the three knights had fallen from their saddles and Sir Baloc had run in fear. “And it's all that medallion he wears around his neck and the
funny words he says. And he keeps talking about this woman named Mogen who's taught him how to do all this.”

“Mogen,
you say?” Elendar's eyes glinted fiercely. “I don't like the sound of that.”

“I did the best I could,” Wash said miserably, “but he wouldn't listen to me. I wish you'd been there, Elendar.”

Elendar's hand fell on the boy's shoulder, and he clasped it firmly. “Never mind. You have a good spirit, my boy Now we must be very careful to see that your friend doesn't take harm from this.”

Wash looked at the crowds who were screaming Reb's name and saw the pair dismount in front of the king and queen. Elaine rushed forward and was embraced by her parents, who, in turn, fell upon Sir Reb and seemed to be crying.

Wash wagged his head. “It looks to me like Reb is in pretty solid. He rescued the princess, and that's what's important, isn't it?”

“Winning is not always important,” Elendar said slowly. He looked tired and suddenly bowed his shoulders. “It's how we win that counts—and I very much fear that we have not seen the last of all this.”

“Who is Mogen, and what's this thing that gives Reb all that power?” Wash asked. “Is it from Goel, do you think?”

“No, never from Goel. He doesn't use magic. He uses men and women—and young people,” he added as he put his hands on Wash's shoulders again.

“Then what's wrong?”

Elendar did not answer for a long moment, and when he did his voice was so low that Wash barely heard it. “Sometimes the dark forces of this world use people as well.”

Y
ou know, Jake, Reb always was stubborn. But ever since he brought Princess Elaine back, he's been different.”

Jake Garfield was standing beside Josh, his hands in his pockets. He looked small beside the tall boy, and his red hair and brown eyes formed a vivid contrast.

Jake agreed. “That's right. He's just not the same guy we've always known and liked.”

“Oh, you two are just jealous.” Abbey sniffed. She looked over to where Reb and Princess Elaine were talking underneath a brilliant banner. They stood on the jousting field, and Reb had just toppled another of the king's ablest knights. Abbey sighed and rolled her eyes. “He's so strong. But I don't see how he stands up to those big men the way he does.”

Sarah gave her a critical glance. “I think there's a little more to it than we know,” she said. “Wash, I've never believed that you told us everything about how you two managed to get Princess Elaine back. And Reb won't say anything either. What actually went on?”

Wash wanted to tell, but Elendar had sworn him to silence. “I guess I'll have to let Reb do the talking—if he wants to,” he said finally.

Dave Cooper came up just in time to hear this. He looked over toward Reb, and there was bitterness in his eyes. He was fully as tall and even stronger than Bob Lee Jackson, but he had been cast into the background by the accomplishments of the young Southerner. “Well, I think
he's going to have to be taught a lesson. He's gotten so proud he's not the same guy we once knew.”

A murmur went around the group, but Josh said, “Wait a minute. We can't lose control of this thing. I know Reb has been a little hard to get along with, but most of us would be if we'd gotten the kind of attention that he's gotten. After all, he came out of nowhere to become the king's favorite.”

“That's what I say,” Abbey agreed. She looked at Reb again and sighed. Always the romantic, she added, “Wouldn't it be something if Reb married the Princess Elaine and became king of Camelot?”

“Nobody's going to become king of
anything
unless the Dark Lord is stopped. I don't know what happened, but I'm going to find out,” Josh snapped. He looked over at the couple, then shrugged. “No sense trying to talk to him. If he won't listen to Elendar, he won't listen to anyone.” He scratched his head and said, “It's like he's been—
bewitched!
But we'll have to do the best we can. Goel sent us here to do something, and at least Reb's gotten the princess back. I'll give him that much.”

* * *

At that moment Princess Elaine was saying, “Reb, I wish I could tell you how grateful I am for what you've done. I'd just about given up hope. That awful Baloc!” She shivered. “It makes me almost sick to think about him.”

Reb smiled and patted her shoulder with a freedom he never would have used at an earlier date. “You don't have to worry about him anymore,” he said loftily. “If he does show up, I'll put the run on him.”

“Put the run on him?” Elaine stared. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, just a saying we had back in Arkansas. Means I'll run him out of here.”

Elaine chewed her lower lip. “I still don't understand what happened. Can't you tell me about it, Reb?”

Reb hesitated, then shook his head. “I suppose some things are better not talked about,” he said grandly.

The truth was that he had had more visits from Mogen, and she had cautioned him not to speak of what they did together. Each time she had come, he felt the power flow out of her hands, and when she spoke strange words over him he felt tall enough to smite the sun.

Now he looked down at Elaine. “I don't want you worryin, Princess. Whatever that Dark Lord throws at us, I'll throw right back in his face.”

Elaine watched Reb carefully as he moved away. Something about him was different. Something that she didn't understand. “He's not the same as he used to be,” she whispered to herself. “Somehow he's stronger—and yet he's weaker too. I just don't understand it. Maybe Elendar can explain.”

She went to find Elendar, and as she did so she was aware that she was somehow disappointed in Reb and afraid for him even after all he had done.

* * *

As Reb was proclaiming what he would do to the servants of the Dark Lord, Sir Melchior was receiving a visit from one he was not happy to see.

He had been dozing in his chair, almost asleep, in the privacy of his quarters, when without warning a figure materialized in front of him.

“What!” Melchior leaped to his feet and grabbed at a sword that hung on the wall. Flipping it out of its sheath, he turned to face the figure, who was clothed from head to foot in a long gray cloak.

“Who are you?” he challenged. “And how did you get past my guards?”

A deep, mellow voice answered, “You need not blame the guards, Melchior. They could not have stopped me in any case.”

Melchior blinked at the assurance of the voice, took one step forward, and lifted his sword. “Who are you? Quick, or I'll have your head from your body!”

“My name is not important. What is important is the one I serve—the same one that you serve.”

Melchior swallowed and lowered the point of his blade. “The Dark Lord?” he whispered, and a chill suddenly went over him, for he could feel the piercing glance of the eyes that were almost hidden by the cowling. “What is your message?”

“You will come with me, and I will show you.”

Melchior had little desire to go with such a deadly visitor. But he knew enough of the Dark Lord to understand that protests would be futile. “Very well,” he said, trying to put assurance into his voice, “I'll call my guards.”

“They would not hear you.” The visitor came forward and put his hands suddenly on Melchior's shoulders. They were icy cold and gripped with a power that Melchior had not dreamed existed. He tried to cry out, but the room suddenly swirled around him, and he felt himself passing into a fit of unconsciousness.

* * *

“Awake, Melchior!”

When Melchior opened his eyes, he looked around wildly “Where
is
this place?” he demanded of his captor. “Why have you brought me here?”

“To show you how we shall overcome the Sword and Kingdom of Camelot.”

Melchior looked around. He was in a cave, but such a huge cavern he had never before seen. There was semidarkness
all about him, and yet, far down a long tunnel, he saw light. “What is that?”

“That is what I have brought you to see.” The Dark Lord's servant motioned and turned. He walked toward the light, and Melchior, frightened to be alone, preferring even the company of this servant, hurried to keep up.

He found himself brought up short when the dark-clad figure put out a hand and held him back. “Not too close,” he said. Then he pointed. “There. There is the bane of King Dion and of Camelot!”

Melchior leaned forward to look over a precipice. They had arrived at a huge pit, illuminated by torches stuck around the wall at intervals. It must have been two hundred feet wide and at least one hundred feet deep, and there, at the bottom, was. . .

“What
is
that thing?” Melchior gasped.

“That is what some would call a dragon. It is not, actually, but is a beast that the Dark Lord has bred for just such times as these—and for his own amusement.”

Melchior stared in cold fear at the huge beast. It had a long neck and powerful claws. He shuddered at the huge bat wings and snakelike head. The beast raised his head and uttered a hoarse cry.

“Quick, back!” The servant of the Dark Lord jerked Melchior away from the chasm. “One drop of his venom and—untreated—you will die. It is poisonous!”

Melchior began to tremble. He wiped his forehead with a shaking hand. “What does this all mean?”

A hollow laugh came from the darkness of the hood, and Melchior could see the cruel lips turn up in an evil smile. “This is your weapon, Melchior. See that you use it well. Loose this beast on the country, and you will see that nothing can stand before him.”

“Me? Why I wouldn't get within a hundred feet of that thing!”

“You will be safe with this.” The cloaked servant handed him a black baton.

It seemed to be a simple wand, and yet, when Melchior took it in his hand, he felt it quiver with energy. “What is it?” he gasped.

“You would not understand if I told you, but it will control the dragon. Command and point the wand, and he will attack whatever is in front of him.”

Melchior gulped, but he knew he had little choice. “What if he turns on me?”

“He will not. He is under the command of the Dark Lord. That wand in your hand is the symbol of the power that will control him. Quickly now, loose the power of the dragon, and we will see what King Dion and his precious knights of chivalry will do against the Dark Lord.”

* * *

The village of Denmore awakened at its usual hour. The men were moving sleepily about the streets. The children were playing, rolling, fighting, crying aloud. The women emerged to do their chores, and some of the peasants had gone to the well and were washing their clothes.

It was a typical, warm spring morning filled with the cries of the children, the sounds of women laughing at the well, and the voices of men calling to each another as they worked in the fields.

Suddenly a keen whistling sound split the air.

Startled, the villagers looked up to see a dark shape appear by a growth of small trees. A cry of fear went up from the children, who scattered and ran to their mothers or into the woods.

“What is it?” the chief villager, a man named Minton, cried. Then his eyes grew wide, and he gasped. “It's a wild beast! Get your arrows, bows, your swords!”

The men rushed for their weapons. Minton himself grabbed his bow and fitted an arrow to the string. As the hideous beast fell screaming down upon him, he loosed it. The arrow struck the scaly armor of the dragon and was deflected. Then the creature breathed a venomous fog from its huge mouth. The vapor blew out like live steam and surrounded Minton, who dropped his bow, grabbed his throat, fell to the ground, and grew still.

Upon seeing this, the other men threw down their weapons and ran. Some were killed as they fled. Women died too, and even children, as the dragon ravaged the village.

When the beast flew away seeming to heed some faraway call, the village clerk came out from beneath a log, his face covered with dirt. Fear made his eyes wide, and he gasped, “Quick, my horse! I must go to the king! He must know that evil is loose in Camelot!”