LANCE OF TRUTH (15 page)

Rhianna wanted to tell her about all the spirit journeys when she’d met Mordred last year, and how she’d spoken to Morgan Le Fay’s
spirit in Annwn using the mirror. But it would take too long to explain, and she didn’t really know how the spirit magic worked, anyway.

Some of the knights seemed to think Queen Guinevere was right, and the lance was still broken. Others – the ones who had seen Elphin’s magic at work up by the North Wall – weren’t so sure. The argument went on and on.

She bit her lip, wishing Merlin would fly back through the hole in the roof and tell them all how stupid they were being. She stepped on to the table and gripped the hilt of her sword, meaning to
make
them listen. Then someone coughed softly behind her, and she turned to see her father’s ghost sitting in the chair she had vacated. One of his legs rested casually over its carved arm, and a scarred hand played with Guinevere’s hair. He looked up
at Rhianna, an amused glint in his blue eyes.

“
I know what you did, daughter
,” he said. “
Do not worry. I will help you. Remember, Lancelot knows the truth about the lance
.”

Rhianna held her breath. Could the others hear him, too? The last thing she wanted was them guessing her plan.

But the knights and the queen carried on arguing, not even noticing that she had yet to sit down. Her father’s ghost winked at her as it faded from sight, and she had an idea how to delay them.

She clenched her fist on Excalibur’s hilt and said loudly, “You want to know what I learned in Avalon, Mother? Magic! I saw it working around me every single day, and Merlin says the four Lights are the most powerful magic of all. Mordred used magic at the North Wall,
and he’ll use it again if he can. You can’t leave Camelot unprotected until we find out if the lance is mended or not. Sir Lancelot will be able to tell us when he’s better. At least wait until then before you send the men away.”

That would give her a chance to tell the champion knight about the duel.

“What are you doing up there still?” her mother said, frowning at her. “If you’ve got something to say, sit down and say it like a civilised person.”

But Sir Bors grunted. “The damsel’s right. Caution’s our best bet for now. We need to speak to Lancelot before we go up against Mordred, any rate. We’ll keep the men at Camelot till he’s well enough to answer questions, discuss it again then.”

The others nodded. They seemed relieved
that someone had made a decision.

“Lancelot might still die,” Sir Agravaine muttered darkly as Rhianna jumped down from the table.

Thankfully, the queen did not hear. She touched her hair where King Arthur’s ghostly hand had rested and smoothed Rhianna’s skirts. “I’ll be sending some clothes and jewels up to your room,” she said. “When we meet again, I don’t want to see you wearing that sword. It’s not suitable attire for a princess of Camelot.”

Rhianna started to ask how she was supposed to have rescued her mother from Mordred’s tower without Excalibur. But the queen said, “Not now, darling. Lancelot needs me,” and hurried from the hall.

Rhianna almost ran after her. But the thought of watching her mother stroking Sir Lancelot’s hair while the champion knight lay in an enchanted sleep was too much. So she headed for the stables.

The warm smell of the horses calmed her. Alba’s coat shone in the shadows, and her mane fluffed in a silver cloud. Rhianna let herself into the stall and flung her arms around her mare’s sweetly scented neck.

Where have you been?
the little horse asked.
Evenstar’s rider made me wet! I almost dissolved.

“Oh beautiful one, I’m sorry… I had to see my mother, but she cares more for Sir Lancelot than she does for me!” Anger filled her. “I was the one who rescued her, not Sir Lancelot! He lost the duel. Without me, he’d be dead.”

Alba bent her head to sniff her.
Why are you upset? You are not hurt. I am not hurt. Your mother is not hurt. We won the race, didn’t we?

Rhianna had to smile. “Yes, my darling,” she said, finding a brush and setting to work on the mare’s mane. “We won, and my mother’s safe. But things aren’t quite as simple here as they are in Avalon. You might have to race the black stallion again…”

“That mare is clean enough, Rhia,” an amused voice said from the passage. “I bathed her for you. What kept you?”

She whirled. Elphin was stroking Evenstar’s nose. She wondered how long he had been standing there.

“Elphin!” she said in relief. “Didn’t Arianrhod tell you? I had to go to a meeting of the Round Table. How’s Sir Lancelot?
The knights said you’ve been playing your harp for him.”

“All night and most of the morning.” Elphin came to lean on the barrier. He shook his extra fingers and grimaced. “The magic is not easy outside Avalon, but Lancelot’s spirit is strong.”

Her heart leaped. “Is he better now, then?”

“Not yet. He needs more healing songs, but the queen told me to leave.”

“She didn’t want me in there, either.” Rhianna pulled a face, and Elphin touched her cheek where an angry tear had escaped. She wiped it away, embarrassed. “It doesn’t matter. She’s bound to be upset about Sir Lancelot. I think she really loves him. How long do you think it’ll be before he can fight again?”

Elphin shook his head. “I don’t know, Rhia. Poison’s a difficult thing to heal. He won’t
die, but he’ll be very weak for a while.”

“Will he be better by midsummer?”

The violet eyes studied her. “Why? What’s happening at midsummer?”

She hesitated. Those eyes, full of the light of Avalon, held hers. She could never keep a secret from her friend. Besides, she needed his help. She glanced round to check that there were no squires listening, and told him what she’d done.

Elphin’s eyes darkened to purple. “You challenged Mordred to another duel? Are you crazy, Rhia?”

“Maybe… it was all I could think of to get the lance back. So can you heal Sir Lancelot by then? He doesn’t have to be fully recovered, only strong enough to sit on his horse and look the part. The main thing is to get Mordred
to come to the lake so we can make him give us the Lance of Truth.”

“And exactly how are you planning to do that?”

Two squires ran down the corridor. One had a bucket of water, which he threw over the other boy, making him yell. The horses tossed their heads and whinnied.
Stupid human boys,
Alba snorted.
Now that poor horse will go thirsty.

Elphin joined her in the mare’s stall and pulled her into the shadows at the back. They were whispering now. “Because if you’re planning on duelling with him yourself, you can forget it right now.”

The thought had crossed Rhianna’s mind. But only as a last resort, if Lancelot was not better in time and the knights refused to help her.

She grinned. “I’m not that crazy. I’ve got Mordred’s mirror now, so he can’t use magic to cheat again. You can use your harp to help Sir Lancelot, like you helped Cai when he tilted against Gareth, can’t you? And when it’s too late to stop the duel, I’ll warn the knights so they can trap him at the lake. Mordred will be a long way from home this time, so he can’t just gallop off again to hide behind his wall.”

“He won’t come alone,” Elphin warned.

She nodded. “I know. But when we’ve got the Lance of Truth back, we’ll have two of the Lights, and he’ll have none. The knights should be able to overpower him easily.” She hoped so, anyway. “The important thing is can you heal Sir Lancelot in time?”

Her friend sighed. “I’ll try my best. But I think we’re going to need more than my harp
if we’re going to catch the dark knight. Any sign of Merlin yet?”

“Not yet.” Rhianna frowned, remembering how the druid had warned her not to get up to any mischief before he got back. “He wouldn’t be much use anyway – he’d probably fly off after another rabbit or something. That’s why I picked the lake. I’m going to ask Lady Nimue to help us.”

Elphin looked thoughtful. “The lake spirit will want something in return, and you can’t give her Excalibur again.”

Rhianna smiled. “Of course not! Don’t worry, I’ll think of something else she might like.”

N
ow that the queen had returned to Camelot, all the damsels wore their best dresses and spent ages doing each other’s hair in the latest styles. Determined to turn Rhianna into a real princess, Guinevere kept her promise made at the Round Table. Every day an excited
Arianrhod brought new dresses, new jewellery, new sandals, or a new tiara to tame her hair.

Rhianna ignored the dresses and took the jewels to the lake, hoping to lure Nimue, the fish-lady who had given her Excalibur the previous year, out of the water so she could ask for her help with Mordred. But there was no sign of the Lady of the Lake. And when Rhianna swam into the depths to look for the underwater cave where Lady Nimue had tested her with riddles to see if she was worthy to carry the Sword of Light, she could no longer find it. She briefly considered offering her the magic mirror instead. But if it was a thing of Annwn, like Elphin said, Nimue might be angry and then refuse to help them.

Every time she failed to contact the Lady of the Lake, she returned to Camelot in a bad
mood. She knew she should tell the champion knight about the challenge, but she could never catch him alone. The queen was with him every waking hour. She wanted to ask Merlin’s advice, but weeks slipped past with no sign of the silly bird. Elphin said his druid soul must have turned feral, and they shouldn’t count on his help. At least Sir Lancelot’s fever had broken thanks to her friend’s healing music.

Three days before the duel, knowing she could delay no longer, she marched to Sir Lancelot’s room.

The guards at the door smiled at her and called her their ‘brave princess’. Rhianna managed a smile back and talked them into letting her in.

To her relief, the champion knight was sitting up, looking much better. Her mother sat
on the end of his bed, pouring him water and trying to make him eat something. They had been laughing softly together when the door opened, but fell silent when Rhianna barged in.

“My daughter!” the queen said proudly. “I could hardly believe it when she came to rescue me. Would you ever have believed she’d grow up to be such a fierce warrior?”

Sir Lancelot examined her with his pale eyes. “She certainly took me by surprise when we first met,” he grunted, rubbing his throat in memory. He got out of bed stiffly and bent his knee to Rhianna. “It seems I owe you my thanks, Princess. Both for rescuing my queen, and for saving my life in that duel. I might have known Mordred wouldn’t stick to Arthur’s rules.”

Rhianna felt a bit embarrassed. “Oh, get up,” she said. “You only got wounded because
you charged off to that silly duel without waiting for me to tell you what Merlin said. You might have beaten Mordred if you’d listened to me.”

Her mother’s eyebrow rose. She looked at Sir Lancelot. “Would you have done?”

The knight frowned as he sat beside her on the bed. “Maybe. There was dark magic at work in that fort. It distracted me, and I dropped the Lance of Truth. The fairy prince tried his best, but it’s obviously not working properly. Your mother tells me the knights want to talk to me about that… as good a reason as any for staying in bed!” He grinned, then sobered again. “Mordred had no intention of letting me out of that fort alive, however the duel went. If I’d have killed him, and Damsel Rhianna here hadn’t broken the enchantment, I’ve no doubt
his bloodbeards would have sent my soul to Annwn by now.”

The queen gave a shudder and crossed herself. “God forbid.”

“But I’m alive,” Lancelot said, taking her hand. “Mordred might have stolen the Lance of Truth, but he can’t use its magic. I’m still the Pendragon’s champion until there’s a new king on the throne of Camelot.”

“Or a new queen,” Rhianna said.

Lancelot gave her a thoughtful look. “Perhaps,” he said. “But Bors tells me Arthur’s going to return from Avalon soon to lead us again. Is that true?”

Rhianna sighed, still trying to think how to tell him about the duel. “Maybe… I don’t know. I haven’t blooded Excalibur, so I can still take it back to Avalon for him. But his body is not
healing as well as it should, which is why I need to find the other three Lights. Mordred’s got the Lance now, the Crown’s still missing, and the Grail—”

Sir Lancelot gave a harsh laugh. “The Grail? Forget it, Princess! That thing’s already killed half Arthur’s best knights. If Merlin brought you out of Avalon in search of it, then he deserves everything that’s happened to him. I hear he’s still stuck in the body of a bird? Good! Maybe we’ll all get a break from his crazy plan to set Arthur up as some shining saviour of the world. Arthur was a man, just like the rest of us, as Mordred proved at Camlann – the little traitor.” He spat on the floor. “I should have killed the ungrateful wretch in that fort, and to Annwn with the rules! Probably won’t get another chance now.”

Rhianna bit her lip. She glanced at her mother, whose hand was stroking Lancelot’s hair again. “I need to talk to you, sir.”

“Go on then,” Lancelot said with a smile. “I’m listening.”

“I mean alone.”

They exchanged an amused look.

“I’m your mother, Rhianna darling,” Guinevere said. “Anything you have to say to Lancelot can be said in front of me.”

Rhianna met her gaze. “This can’t. It’s Pendragon business.”

Sir Lancelot whispered something to the queen. She frowned at Rhianna, but got up and left the room. The knight glanced at the open door. “Let’s take a walk,” he said. “These walls have ears.”

Rhianna looked at his wound doubtfully.
She could see fresh blood on the bandage.

Lancelot grinned and put an arm across her shoulders. “Good as new!” he said, getting up with a wince. “Your friend’s magic is a lot better than old Merlin’s used to be.”

They headed for the rose garden. Last time Rhianna had been here, white winter roses had bloomed in the snow. Now it was a mass of scented pink flowers, twisting around pillars and rambling up the walls of the castle. Birds sang among the leaves, unseen.

Lancelot led her to the fountain and perched on the rim. “Right,” he said, checking that they could not be overheard. “So what’s the great secret?”

Now she finally had the champion knight’s attention, she didn’t know how to say it.

“Mordred’s coming to finish the duel,”
she blurted out. “You have to be at Nimue’s lake at midday on Midsummer’s Day to meet him.”

The champion knight blinked at her then burst out laughing. “I’m to kill the dark knight in three days’ time?”

“Well… not exactly kill him…” She explained the plan.

“I can see why you didn’t want your mother to hear that!” Lancelot said. He got up from the fountain and paced around under the roses. “You’re even crazier than everyone says you are, if you think I’m going to be strong enough to fight in three days!”

“It’ll be strict rules this time, and I’ll tell the other knights what’s happening in time for them to get up there and help you. So as long as the lance’s magic doesn’t work for Mordred,
you should be all right,” Rhianna rushed on, thinking he might be scared.

“I should be all right? By that I suppose you mean not actually dead?” He shook his head at her in disbelief. Then he sighed and said, “It would be good to get the lance back from Mordred, I suppose – might give me a chance to skewer the traitor.”

“There’s something else,” Rhianna said. “Something important Merlin told me. He said you have to use the lance in the right way. With the right things in your heart. Merlin says that’s why it broke when you jousted against my father, and I think that’s why it didn’t work for you when you tried to use it against Mordred. I’m not sure how the magic works, but if your heart is true when Mordred tries to use the lance against you, maybe you’ll win this time?”

Sir Lancelot frowned at her. He pressed a hand to his wound. “You dare suggest my heart isn’t true?” His voice was dangerous.

“I know you fought my father over the queen.” Rhianna took a deep breath. “But what were you thinking when you met Mordred at the fort?”

“What business is it of yours?” he growled. “I’ll have quite enough explaining to do to the knights without you interrogating me, too! Why didn’t you tell me about this challenge of yours earlier? I’ve been lying in bed under your fairy friend’s enchantments dreaming of Avalon, when I should have been out training… Of course, Mordred probably won’t come, but we’d better be prepared if he does, and I’m certainly not riding up to that lake alone so he can kill me with my own lance. Stay out of things you
don’t understand, Princess!” He started back towards the castle.

She called after him, “You’re the Pendragon’s champion! If you won’t do it my way, then I’ll have to joust against him myself!”

Her voice echoed around the walls. Servants, hurrying along the colonnade beside the garden, looked round curiously. Lancelot stopped, his shoulders stiff, and turned to glower at her. “If you were a squire, I’d whip your cheeky behind halfway back to Avalon,” he growled.

“But I’m not a squire, am I?” Rhianna smiled sweetly at him.

“Unfortunately. You’ve got more guts than half of them.” The knight sighed. He came back and said more quietly, “I was thinking of your mother, of course. I care for her. You must 
know that by now. I doubt the gossip at Camelot’s stopped any since I’ve been away.”

Rhianna nodded. “I know that. But why did you want to rescue her?”

“Why? Because I love her! What other reason is there? But why did you risk
your
life to rescue her? Tell me that. There’s no love lost between you two, I’ve heard. It’s no surprise, really. You were still a baby when Merlin took you to Avalon. You barely knew her.”

“Because she’s my mother and I want her to be safe. I’m not sure if I love her though. I can’t really remember her, except in my dreams.” Rhianna took a deep breath. “I wanted to rescue her for my father’s sake, and for Camelot, so things can be right again in the world of men.”

“For King Arthur and Camelot…” Lancelot sighed. His hand rested briefly on her shoulder
“Maybe I have lost sight of what’s important. All right, Rhianna Pendragon, you’ve made your point. When Mordred and I meet at the lake, I’ll bear it in mind.”

“Not in your mind… in your heart!” Rhianna called after him as he staggered back inside.

Sir Lancelot merely raised a hand without looking round. She noted that his other hand was pressed to his wound, and felt a bit guilty about asking him to duel with the dark knight again so soon. He might be killed this time, which would distress her mother. But he was the Pendragon’s champion. Camelot needed him.

Happy at Sir Lancelot’s recovery, Queen Guinevere announced a feast at midsummer to
make up for the joust that had been interrupted by the dead rider bringing Mordred’s grisly message. The next two days were a whirl of preparations as the cooks baked pies and the damsels decorated the halls with flowers. People from the neighbouring towns and villages came to celebrate the queen’s safe return, and the camp on the river meadows grew until Rhianna could hardly sleep for the noise.