Sword of Light (14 page)

Rhianna looked to the walls of Camelot, but her father’s ghost gave her no clues. “I’ll let your men live if you’ll help us rebuild all those villages you burned,” she said in the end. “And I’ll give you your necklace back, if you give me the shoes your men stole from my friend’s horse.”

Elphin smiled too. But Cai looked confused. “Good gold for a few old horseshoes?” he grumbled. “Is she crazy?”

But Cynric gave Rhianna a look of respect. So did the other prisoners, as well as the knights guarding them. The chief nodded to his men. One of them sullenly undid his belt and slipped off four dainty silver shoes, tied together with a loop of twine. Elphin’s face
brightened. He whispered something to Cai, who marched across to snatch the horseshoes from the Saxon.

In return, Rhianna passed the chief his torque, and he twisted it back round his neck. He straightened a little and seemed to grow taller. “My men are tired of fighting. When we’ve helped you rebuild the villages, will you let us stay and raise our youngsters alongside yours?”

Sir Agravaine scowled. “Saxons in our villages? Do you think we were born yesterday?”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Sir Bedivere said with a little cough. “We’ll be able to keep an eye on them there, and their children can join the squire school when they’re old enough – train as knights to replace the ones we lost with Arthur.”

“We’ll want hostages for your good
behaviour in future,” Sir Bors added quickly.

Cynric nodded. “Agreed.”

Rhianna couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for the chief. “Give him his weapons back, too,” she ordered.

“I’m not sure that’s wise, Damsel Rhianna,” Sir Bors muttered. “I wouldn’t trust the barbarian no further than my horse could kick him. Best just chuck the Saxon scum out into the snow and keep their weapons. Remember what they did to me.”

Rhianna didn’t think she’d ever forget. “Are any of Mordred’s bloodbeards still alive?” she said, shivering a little. “If so, they and the men who helped them can stay as our hostages.”

Sir Bors nodded. But it turned out the remaining bloodbeards had fled when they saw their captain fall. The Saxons who had helped
them torture Sir Bors were thrust forward, identified by their own comrades. They bared their teeth at Rhianna as Sir Agravaine ordered his men to strip them of their furs, remove their boots and take them away. Their pale bodies broke out in goosebumps as they hobbled through the snow.

Cynric made no protest. He raised his fist to his forehead. “You are your father’s daughter, Rhianna Pendragon.” With great dignity, he led the rest of his men from the battlefield, escorted by the knights, who would give them their weapons once they were a safe distance from Camelot.

Rhianna watched them go and finally sheathed Excalibur. All the remaining strength ran out of her. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Alba’s damp mane. Even
the cheering knights and the blowing horns, and the thought of meeting her mother at last, could not rouse a spark of energy. She’d used it all up fighting the dragon and dealing with the Saxon chief, which had been almost as tiring as the battle.

She did get to lead the knights victoriously into Camelot, as Sir Bedivere had promised. But it might as well have been a dream. Her head did not seem to belong to her body. Alba’s hooves pranced soundlessly through the snow, and the mist horse’s mane drifted like a pink cloud in the setting sun. The high walls towered above her, and the great arched gateway reared so far overhead it could have belonged to a castle in the sky. Only Elphin and Cai, riding close on each side to keep her in her saddle, seemed real.

“Is my father coming, too?” she whispered,
twisting her head to look for his ghost.

Her friends glanced at each other. “No, Rhia,” Elphin said gently. “King Arthur’s still sleeping in Avalon, remember? But we’ll be back there soon.”

“Make way for the Pendragon!” Cai yelled to the cheering people lining the streets, and the cheers got louder. People threw white winter roses that caught in Alba’s mane. Rhianna didn’t know if they were cheering her or the tattered Pendragon banner that rippled before her eyes until the red dragon seemed alive.

She fixed her eyes on it and wondered if her mother would recognise her. That was her last thought before welcoming hands pulled her off Alba’s back and carried her up a winding stair to bed. She was asleep before her head touched the pillow.

T
ired of watching his cousin ride triumphantly into Camelot behind the Pendragon banner, Mordred threw the mirror to the floor in rage. Pain stabbed his arm, making him curl up on his rocky bed and clutch at his stump.

His men had failed! Not only had they allowed his cousin to take Excalibur from under their noses, but she had somehow used the sword to persuade Arthur’s knights
to fight. And now she was inside Camelot where his men couldn’t reach her. He could sense her new strength even from his sanctuary. He’d tried to send his shadow to the battlefield to make her drop the sword so his bloodbeard could grab it, but something had blocked him. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said it was his Uncle Arthur. Worse, the stupid shadrake had taken his fist, which meant he couldn’t even contact his men until he got out of here… and he
hated
dragons.

“Stop being such a baby,” his mother’s voice came from the floor, faint but commanding. “Pick up that mirror and talk to me! We have to make new plans.”

The last thing Mordred felt like doing right now was facing his mother. But the pain frightened him, so he obediently reached over
the side of his bed and peered into the dark glass.

“My stump hurts,” he complained. “Your stupid shadrake stole my fist.” He wondered if his mother had told the creature to take his missing hand into Annwn to punish him for his men’s failure. He wouldn’t have been surprised.

“I didn’t send the shadrake to Camelot, silly boy,” the witch said. “It’s been flapping around in the world of men like some overgrown bird ever since it snatched the druid’s pathfinder as he came through the mists. Merlin must have managed the spirit transfer, after all – promised it treasure, I expect. But it’s back here now and it’s brought your fist, so it might still be of some use to us. In the meantime, we must stop Arthur’s daughter taking the sword back to Avalon until you’re well enough to get it
off her. The easiest way will be to trick her into blooding it. She’s stronger than we thought, but she’s bound to try using the Round Table to contact Merlin, and she won’t be expecting trouble among her friends in Camelot. Be ready when she calls.”

Mordred sat up, interested. “Can I reach her without my fist?”

“You still share your knightly link with Excalibur. It’s dangerous because you’re not the only one the sword knighted, but she should be able to see and hear you all right.”

“I’m not sure I want her to see me like this.” Mordred scowled at his stump, thinking of his athletic cousin swinging Excalibur in the battle against the dragon. He didn’t want her to think he was some kind of cripple.

“Have I made you vain, my son?” His
mother smiled. “You don’t really understand the spirit magic, do you?”

“If you’d explain it a bit better, I might,” Mordred muttered.

“No need to sulk. You were young when you sat at the Round Table. Don’t worry, our fair damsel will see my handsome boy. Who knows, she might even fall for you. That’d be an interesting turn of events.”

“Stop it, Mother!” Mordred said, alarmed now.

The witch laughed. “Don’t look so worried. She was raised in Avalon remember? The girl’s innocent enough to charm a unicorn. You concentrate on making her angry enough to draw Excalibur. Leave the magic to me.”

11

Round Table

A
beautiful lady with hair like flames bent over Rhianna’s bed. A golden circlet glittered on her brow in the candlelight. Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled.

Rhianna sighed in pleasure. “Mother?” she whispered.

“Go back to sleep, child.” The lady kissed her on the forehead and straightened her fur coverlet. “You’re safe now.”

Rhianna drifted into a dream where her father came trotting out of the mists on one of Lord Avallach’s horses, healed of his wounds and wearing a golden crown set with fiery jewels. She rode out to meet him with Excalibur, and her mother rode behind her with the champion knight, Lancelot, who looked handsome and young. The king smiled when he saw them and reached out his arms to Rhianna. But a shadow loomed between them, and when it turned she recognised the dark knight. He held something that shone so brightly she could no longer see the path.

“You’re too late,” he said. “Camelot is mine.”

Then the light struck her eyelids, and she woke with a start.

The first thing she saw was a star framed by an arched window. The sky was a deep, velvety blue. In the grate a fire crackled quietly, scented with pine cones. She no longer wore her borrowed squire’s clothing, but a soft white nightgown. A mattress cradled her tired body and furs lay heavy and warm over her legs.

For a moment she couldn’t think where she was. Then her arm slipped out from under the covers and her hand touched cold stone. All at once, she remembered the battle and the dragon and her father’s ghost fighting the dark knight’s shadow. She sat up, clutching the furs to her chin, and looked with pounding heart for Excalibur.

With some relief, she saw the sword, safe in its battered scabbard, resting across her neatly folded cloak at the end of her bed. Her Avalonian armour glimmered beside it, also neatly folded. Merlin’s spiral sat on top of the pile. She stared at the druid symbol, recalling her dream at the stone circle.
If all else fails, I’ll send you my pathfinder
…
Look for the dragon
. The spiral must be his pathfinder, she supposed. Had Merlin sent that dragon after them? If so, she’d have something to say to him for scaring them like that.

She gazed curiously around the room. Curtains embroidered with gold and silver threads covered the walls, showing unicorns and dragons, and knights jousting with long lances. She was about to climb out of bed for a closer look, when she realised she was not alone.
A strange girl dozed on a stool near the fireplace.

“Who are you?” she said, alarmed.

The girl started awake and came hurrying over to the bed. “My lady, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep. My name’s Arianrhod. Lady Isabel says I’m to be your maid now.” She tugged at the furs in an effort to straighten them. Black hair shadowed a thin, pale face. Rhianna felt a pang of disappointment that it wasn’t her mother.

“Where’s my friend Elphin, the Avalonian boy?” she asked. “And Cai?”

“Sleeping in the squires’ dormitory, my lady,” the girl said, keeping her face hidden behind her hair. “Damsels aren’t allowed in there. The men celebrated after the Saxons left, drank a lot of mead. Sir Bors told me to stay with you until you woke up. You’ve slept
for a whole day! It’s nearly midnight.”

“What about the queen? Is she asleep, too?”

“Er, no, my lady.” Arianrhod twisted a fold of her dress between her fingers. “At least, I suppose she might be sleeping, but she’s gone north with Sir Lancelot and his men. They left soon after we heard Prince Mordred had wounded King Arthur. Sir Lancelot said he was taking her to safety, a secret location. I thought you knew…” Her voice grew fainter, and she cringed as if afraid of being hit.

Rhianna sighed. So that was what the knights had been sniggering about back at the camp? “My mother’s not here,” she said, feeling hollow inside. She hadn’t realised how much she had been looking forward to meeting the woman who had held her in her arms as a baby.

“No, my lady, I’m sorry. I’m sure she would
have stayed, if she had known you were coming. But up until yesterday none of us knew you even existed!”

“Who undressed me?” Rhianna asked, a bit embarrassed.

“Lady Isabel, of course. She’s in charge of the Damsel Tower. I helped her put you to bed. I washed your hair, too. It’s a really pretty colour, like autumn leaves.” The girl gave her a shy smile. “It was very dirty. I had to cut some of the tangles out. I hope you don’t mind.”

Rhianna lifted a hand to her head and realised why it felt so light. Half her hair had gone. The rest had been bound into some kind of net. She tugged the thing off and flung it on the bed in a glitter of gold and tiny emeralds. “Never touch my hair again!” she said, unsettled by the thought of a blade that close to her head while she slept.

Arianrhod cringed again. “B-but Lady Isabel said I was to clean you up and make you look presentable…”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, Princess Rhianna. You’re Queen Guinevere’s daughter.”

“I’m Rhianna
Pendragon
, King Arthur’s daughter,” Rhianna corrected. “Didn’t you see me in the battle?”

The girl eyed her warily. “We saw a great hero on a white horse fighting the dragon,” she whispered. “Everyone said it was King Arthur come back from Fairyland to save us.”

So she hadn’t been imagining things. Other people could see her father’s ghost, too.

“That was me on the white horse, silly!” Rhianna said fighting a smile. “Didn’t you see Excalibur?”

Arianrhod nodded. “I thought it must be King Arthur’s famous sword, because it gleamed so bright. That proves he came back to help us. Only King Arthur can use Excalibur without losing his soul.”

Rhianna reached for the scabbard and freed the sword. The white jewel glittered in the firelight as she showed it to Arianrhod. “Recognise this, then?”

She didn’t mean to scare her. An Avalonian girl would have laughed and flicked the weapon away with magic. But Arianrhod gave a little scream and huddled against the fireplace. “Please lady, don’t cut me!”

As the black hair parted, Rhianna glimpsed a purple scar in the shape of a five-pointed star on the girl’s cheek. Coming to her senses, she sheathed the sword and laid it back on
the chest. She wanted to ask about the scar, but Arianrhod quickly pulled her hair back over it. In any case she had more important things to think about first.

“This sword is Excalibur,” she said more gently. “And I did fight the dragon you saw out there – though there was magic involved, so I’m not surprised you saw King Arthur’s ghost… I don’t suppose you happened to see where he went after the battle?”

Arianrhod shook her head. “He just vanished. Went back to Fairyland, I expect.”

“What about Merlin? We’re supposed to be meeting him at Camelot. Is he here?”

Arianrhod shook her head again. “Nobody’s seen Merlin since Prince Mordred killed the king.”

Rhianna sighed. It had been too much to
hope that the druid would be here waiting for them. She straightened her shoulders. If she wanted to try magic to contact Merlin, now seemed as good a time as any. “Where’s the Round Table?”

“Where it always was, my lady. In the Great Hall.”

“Take me there.”

Arianrhod met her gaze for the first time, surprise in her dark eyes. “Now? But it’s the middle of the night… no one will be there.”

Rhianna grinned as she pulled on her cloak and buckled Excalibur’s scabbard over the white dress. “That’s the whole idea, and please stop calling me ‘my lady’. It’s making me feel old. My friends call me Rhia.”

On their way down the shadowed staircases and along the torchlit corridors of the sleeping castle, she discovered how Arianrhod had come to Camelot as a baby after being abandoned in the woods and found by Arthur’s knights on a hunting trip. The king’s sister, Lady Morgan, was living in Camelot at the time. She had no husband, just her small son Mordred – a quiet, dark-haired boy who was bullied by the other squires. People assumed Mordred’s father had been killed in battle and felt sorry for his beautiful young mother. At first Arianrhod thought she’d enjoy looking after her. But she soon found out that none of Lady Morgan’s maids lasted very long.

“I was only nine when she chose me,” Arianrhod told her. “I had no idea she was a witch. Then Mordred got made a knight,
and he and King Arthur had a big argument one day across the Round Table. Prince Mordred galloped off with the men who’d come down from the north to train at Camelot, and that night Lady Morgan took me to her rooms. She said she wanted me to help her make a spell. She made me drink something bitter that made me feel really strange. Then she called on the forces of Annwn and cut my cheek with a horrid black dagger. I don’t know what happened after that. When I woke up, she had gone. She went off to be with her son, of course. The guards had orders to stop her, but they never saw her pass the gates. Some people say she sprouted wings like a bird and flew over the wall.” She shuddered. “I hope she never comes back.”

“She won’t be back,” Rhianna said, chilled.
“You don’t need to be afraid of her any more, because she’s dead.”

“Lady Morgan’s dead? Really?” Arianrhod touched her scarred cheek.

“Yes,” Rhianna said firmly. “She’s in Annwn, so she can never hurt you again.”

At least she hoped Elphin was right about that, because she didn’t fancy meeting a witch’s ghost in these corridors.

They met several sets of sentries on their way to the Great Hall, who relaxed when they saw the two damsels. One man asked where they were going in the middle of the night. Arianrhod, who had cheered up a bit since learning of Lady Morgan’s fate, winked at Rhianna and mumbled something about a midnight feast in the squires’ dormitory. The sentry chuckled and warned them not to let
Lady Isabel catch them. None of them seemed to recognise Rhianna. She kept Excalibur hidden under her cloak and tried to control her impatience. All she’d found to wear on her feet was a pair of embroidered slippers.
I must look ridiculous
, she thought.

At last Arianrhod pulled her towards two enormous carved doors. Rhianna winced at the thought of the noise they would make as they opened. But Arianrhod produced a key and opened a little door in one of the larger ones. “We have to get in here to clean the place after the knights have been sitting,” she explained as Rhianna ducked through.

Inside, Rhianna paused, the hairs on the back of her neck lifting. The lamp Arianrhod carried did not reach very far in the enormous room, but she could sense something huge and
powerful humming in the shadows. The roof arched high overhead, reminding her of Lord Avallach’s palace. Stars showed through a circular opening in the centre. The floor had a pattern of coloured tiles, like those she’d glimpsed under the weeds in the ruined Roman villa. Drawn up around the table were large stone chairs with velvet cushions on the seats.

She walked slowly around the chairs, touching their carved backs with her fingertips, wondering how the magic worked.

“My lad–– I mean, Rhia… your sword!”

Excalibur’s white jewel shone, warm against her leg. She drew the blade and at once it blazed silver, making Arianrhod look nervously at the doors.

At least they could see now. Holding Excalibur aloft like a torch, Rhianna completed
her walk around the table, counting the chairs as she went. But when she reached the doors again, she found she had lost count. She shook her head, thinking of what Cai had said about Merlin enchanting the Round Table, so it would seat all the knights who wanted to talk with the king.

“Do you know how King Arthur used this table to speak to Merlin?” she asked Arianrhod.

The girl shook her head. “I’m sorry. Damsels aren’t allowed in here when the knights meet.”

“Like you’re not allowed in the squire’s dormitory?” Rhianna said with a grin.

“That’s different,” Arianrhod said, blushing.