LANCE OF TRUTH (2 page)

T
he first joust to be held at Camelot since King Arthur’s death drew a big crowd. Word had spread during the winter that Arthur’s daughter had made a peace treaty with the Saxons, and everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the brave young princess who was
rumoured to carry her father’s magic sword, Excalibur, and to have fought a dragon with it – though few people actually believed that part of the story, of course. A damsel fight a dragon? That didn’t even happen in songs.

Unaware of what they were saying about her, Rhianna leaned out of her window to watch the steady stream of people coming up the hill. The breeze blew her unruly copper hair across her eyes. She brushed it away impatiently. She’d hoped her mother would be back by now. But there was still no sign of the queen or the champion knight Sir Lancelot, who had taken her north last winter to keep her safe from the fighting. Soon the knights would ride in search of her, and Rhianna did not plan on being left behind.

She turned her attention to the area outside
the walls, where the squires’ tilt would take place later that day. When all the boys had ridden, the winner would be allowed to try his skill against a grown knight. The squires would not carry full-length lances. Instead, they would use light spears with blunted ends that shattered easily. Rhianna reckoned she could handle one, no problem. But when she had asked Sir Bors if she could enter the tilt on her mist horse Alba, he’d just laughed.

“Nobody’ll dare tilt against the Pendragon’s daughter!” he’d said. “Your father never entered a joust himself after he became king. He let his champion knight tilt for him. No, Damsel Rhianna, let the squires have their fun. Besides, it’s just as much fun watchin’ them, believe me.”

Rhianna never liked watching when she could be doing. But she supposed it would be
embarrassing to have Alba mist under her and to fall off in front of everyone. She had her own plans for today, and they did not include playing the princess so everyone could gape at her. She’d had quite enough of that over the winter.

A knock at the door broke into her thoughts.

“My lady?” Her maid Arianrhod hurried in, breathless from the stairs, her arms full of green material with a gold circlet resting on top. “It’s a beautiful morning! Everyone’s really excited to see you! You should get dressed now.”

“I am dressed,” Rhianna said. “Almost, anyway.”

She was already wearing the tunic and leggings she used for riding. She quickly opened her clothing chest and slipped her Avalonian armour over the top. The silvery moons
glimmered in the early light. She fingered them thoughtfully, remembering how they had stopped an arrow last year when Mordred’s bloodbeards had captured her. She hadn’t been able to test the armour against a lance. She just hoped the magic would work in the same way.

Arianrhod laid the dress and jewels on the bed. She eyed the armour. “Are you worried Mordred might try something?” she asked sympathetically. “Because you needn’t be. Security’s always tight for a joust, so you won’t need that under your dress today. It’ll be warm when the sun gets up. You’ll get sweaty, I’m warning you.”

“I’ll get sweaty all right.” Rhianna grinned as she strapped Excalibur’s red scabbard around her waist.

She rested her hand on the white jewel set
into the hilt of the sword. A brightness filled her.
The strength of a hundred men
. Well, ninety-nine anyway, since she’d unknighted Mordred and banished his dark spirit from the magical jewel. She marched purposefully to the door.

“My lady… Rhia! You can’t go out there before all those people looking like that!”

Arianrhod’s horrified tone made her hesitate. She didn’t want to get her friend into trouble.

“I can’t wear a dress today,” she explained gently. “They’ve come to see Excalibur, and a sword over a dress looks stupid. Besides, I don’t want them to see me as a princess today. If they’re going to believe we can hold Camelot against Mordred and his bloodbeards, they’ve got to see me as Rhianna
Pendragon
.”

Arianrhod bit her lip. She picked up the
golden circlet and twisted it between her fingers. The pentacle-shaped scar on her cheek – a souvenir from her old mistress, Lady Morgan – pulsed crimson. “You haven’t even brushed your hair,” she said. “Some of those people have come a long way to see you.”

Rhianna thought of the helm she’d borrowed from the armoury and hidden under the woodpile near the gates, and the mess it would make of her hair. But she wouldn’t be wearing that until later.

She sat on the bed. “All right,” she said. “You can braid my hair. But if anyone asks where I am when the squires’ tilt finishes, I’ve gone riding with Elphin.”

Her friend’s fingers stilled. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?” she said.

“When do I ever do anything stupid?”

“All the time!”

Rhianna laughed as she reached for her father’s battered shield with its red dragon design. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be as careful as I usually am.”

Arianrhod gave her a sideways look. She had got used to treating Rhianna’s bruises after she came back from a training session with the squires. “I’ll get the ointment ready,” she said with a sigh.  

Rhianna found the Avalonian prince Elphin in the stables. He was helping Cai, the plump squire who had been with the knights when she and Elphin rode through the mists from Avalon, get his equally plump pony ready for the tilt. Elphin’s extra fingers made short work of the
buckles, which was just as well because Cai’s seemed to be all thumbs. The noise was incredible. Horses neighed and trod on toes, while the squires yelled challenges at one another as they hurried to be first out on the course.

“Good luck, Cai!” she called.

The squire grimaced and patted the pony. “I’m going to need it, and so is Sandy.”

“Who are you tilting against?”

He pulled a face. “Gareth. I reckon he fixed the draw.”

“If he did, then he’s braver than I thought,” Elphin said, winking at Rhianna. “Good job you’ll only be using wooden swords today.”

Cai flushed.

Rhianna smiled. Even after a whole winter’s training, a weapon in Cai’s hand could be more dangerous to his friends than to his enemies.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be all right.” Elphin picked up his harp, which he carried at all times in a deerskin bag, his eyes violet with amusement.

She wondered if he was planning to use magic to help their friend, because that was the only way she could see Cai winning a tilt against Gareth. She just hoped he would have some magic left over for her when she needed it.

A soft nose nudged her from over the stall.
It is very noisy in here this morning
, said Alba, the mare Lord Avallach had given her from the enchanted Avalonian herd.
Can we go galloping in the wood again? I promise I will not mist if you do not want me to.

Rhianna smiled as she slipped into the mist horse’s stable and quickly brushed her silver coat. “Not today, my darling. We’re going to the meadow, where you can race as fast as you like.”

That sounds fun
, Alba said, with a pleased snort.

“It’s going to be fun seeing everyone’s faces afterwards,” she said, leading the little mare out into the spring sunshine.

Sir Bedivere waited at the gates, handing out lances. The young knight did not seem surprised to see Rhianna dressed in her armour and riding Alba, though the other knights frowned at her.

“Who’s going to answer the squires’ challenge?” she asked him, hoping it wouldn’t be the grumpy Sir Agravaine. She’d seen the dark-haired knight use his lance in battle, and didn’t fancy being on the wrong end of it.

“I am,” Sir Bedivere said, smiling at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with whoever it is. Once they’ve eaten mud a couple of times,
they usually lose their bravado pretty quick.”

Rhianna relaxed slightly. “And what if he knocks you off?”

Sir Bedivere laughed. “Then I’ll knight the lad myself! The others might call me ‘Soft Hands’, but no one except Lancelot’s ever bested me in a fair tilt. Better clear the course, Damsel Rhianna. We’re almost ready to start.”

Hoping Elphin would remember to bring the helm from the woodpile, she trotted Alba over to the benches, where Arianrhod and the other damsels were already sitting in an excited group. The crowd had not noticed her yet, but it would only be a matter of time. Over in the horse lines the knights rushed about, tightening girths and giving their squires last-moment instructions.

A horn blew, and Sir Bors mounted the steps to announce the start of the spring joust.
He made a gruff speech about Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere being on their way back to hold Camelot for King Arthur’s return, and Excalibur keeping their lands safe in the meantime. He wasn’t a very good speaker, and the crowd got restless. They peered at the stands, obviously trying to spot Rhianna. Someone pointed at Lady Isabel, who looked after the Damsel Tower.

“There she is…!”

“Are you sure? She’s older than I thought.”

“No, that’s the woman in charge of the damsels, silly… what about that dark girl? She’s about the right age.”

Arianrhod ducked her head, though not quickly enough to hide her cheek.

“Ugh!” a woman said. “Where’d she get that horrid scar? In Avalon?”

Rhianna saw Elphin in the stands with his harp cradled in his lap. Its bag, under the bench between his feet, bulged strangely. He patted it, and she smiled.

“Damsel Rhianna, you’d better show them Excalibur now,” Sir Bedivere whispered. She realised Sir Bors had stopped talking and people were staring around expectantly.

She trotted Alba out on the course and drew her sword. The blade flashed in the sun.

A hush fell over the crowd as Excalibur’s jewel brightened, haloing her and Alba in silver light. She thought she saw her father’s ghost in the stands, smiling at her, and new energy and confidence filled her.

“As you can see, Princess Rhianna carries the Sword of Light that was forged in Avalon!” Sir Bors announced. “She’ll keep Camelot and
our lands safe from the barbarians till King Arthur is well enough to return from Avalon and sit on the throne again.”

A few people whispered uneasily. “And what if King Arthur doesn’t come back?” someone called. “You expect us to believe a damsel can handle Excalibur? It needs a man’s hand.”

Another man said loudly, “Why’s the girl wearing armour? No prince is going to want to marry her looking like that!” His companions quickly shushed him. But others in the crowd were muttering now, confused.

Rhianna sighed. She had become used to this.

She raised her voice, which carried easily across the field. “I am Rhianna Pendragon! I’m wearing armour because it was a gift from Lord Avallach of Avalon, and I carry King
Arthur’s shield, which Merlin gave to me when he brought my father’s body through the mists. This is my father’s sword, Excalibur, given to me by Lady Nimue of the Lake last year so we could defeat the Saxons, and I can handle it just fine.”