Sword of Camelot (11 page)

S
ometimes fear can sweep over an entire nation exactlyas it does over a single individual. So it was in the landof Camelot. As the fierce and deadly beast struck villageafter village, panic fell over all the inhabitants. Even the flight of a crow overhead was sufficient for men, women, and children to drop their tools and run screaming forshelter.

There was no pattern to the attacks. The creaturemight strike in the eastern sector one day, fall out of sight, then move on the western sector a week later.

“I tell you,” King Dion shouted to his council, “the thing must be killed!” His face was pale with anger, and he tugged fiercely at his mustache as he paced back and forth before the elders.

They stared at him anxiously.

“Sire,” Sir Gwin said, “we have sent our best knights to do battle with this
thing
—three of them.” His face grew long. “None of them survived. Witnesses tell us that though they faced up bravely to the creature, all their strength and courage went for naught. The beast either sank his teeth into them or overwhelmed them with his breath.”

King Dion ordinarily was the kindest of men. Rarely did he speak harshly to his subjects, but he was beside himself, and now he shouted with rage. “Are you a coward, Gwin? Are you afraid to face this beast yourself?”

Sir Gwin's face went pale. He straightened up. “I tell you, no man ever accused me of cowardice, Your Majesty.”

“That's right, my dear,” Queen Mauve said quickly and laid a restraining hand on her husband's arm. “It seems that this monster cannot be defeated with ordinary weapons.”

The king stared at her, and some of the anger left him. “Of course, my dear, you are right.” He shot a quick look at Sir Gwin and gave his apology. “I spoke too harshly, Sir Gwin. I know only too well that your courage is exceeded by none in my kingdom.”

A murmur went around the council, and for a while the talk grew more and more dark and pessimistic.

Finally, the eldest member of the council said, “It would be well, Your Majesty, would it not, to ask our visitors the Seven Sleepers to enter into council with us? After all, they are sent to us from Goel.”

Prince Loren shook his head. “I don't see that they can help,” he said stubbornly “If our best knights have failed, what can mere children do?”

Princess Elaine was sitting beside him. She had said nothing during the council. She never did. It was not her place, she felt. But now, suddenly, she spoke up. “I think we must look to Elendar to lead us in this crisis. He is the one who knows the Dark Lord and his ways best, and I think he knows the Sleepers well.”

Every eye turned to the tall form of Elendar, who was standing back in the shadows. He wore a simple cloak of white linen, and his white hair well matched it. Only his eyes seemed dark and glowing. He looked at Princess Elaine, and a smile smoothed away the sternness of his lips. “My Princess,” he said, “I thank you for your confidence—but I am not certain of what course to take.”

The king stared bleakly at him. “If
you
are not certain, Elendar, what are the rest of us to do?”

Elendar lowered his head and seemed to examine the floor. All were aware that he was thinking profoundly, and
they had grown so accustomed to waiting on his wisdom that the silence grew thick even as it grew longer.

Finally Elendar said, “The Princess Elaine may be more right than all of us. I do not claim to know the ways of Goel better than any other. But one thing I do know—when he sends a messenger, there is power in that messenger.” He stopped and nodded firmly. “He has sent us seven messengers. I think it well to pay heed to what they might say.” He looked hard at Prince Loren.
“Children
they are not. They are wise and have been tried in the hard school of adversity. They have remained faithful to Goel when others have faltered. I say, call the Seven Sleepers!”

* * *

Sir Gwin approached Josh Adams. “Josh, you and the others are summoned to the High Council.”

Josh stared at him, disconcerted. “It's about the dragon, isn't it?” he asked.

“Isn't everything about that frightful beast these days?” Sir Gwin replied grimly. “Yes. Come quickly. The council is waiting.”

Josh whirled, called the rest, and when they were together he said, “The king and the council have sent for us.” He added carefully, “It's about this dragon.”

“I never believed in such a thing as dragons,” Dave said. “But we've seen strange tilings in Nuworld. Nothing much stranger than this, though.”

“What can he want with us?” Jake asked. He ruffled his red hair and pulled at it nervously. “From what I hear, this thing eats knights for breakfast.” He thought for a moment and said, “I wish I had an AK-7 attack rifle. I'd stop his clock.”

“Well, you don't have,” Reb had come in late and listened as Josh explained the problem. Now, instead of
waiting—as he would have done earlier—he said, “Come along, we can't keep the king waiting.”

Sarah fell in beside Josh and saw the set look on his face. “Don't be upset, Josh,” she whispered. “Reb doesn't mean to be so bossy.”

“Yes, he does,” Josh said grimly. “He means exactly that. He's gotten unbearable, and I don't know what to do about it.” He looked miserable. “If he can whip full-grown knights, what chance would I have to make him listen to me? He'd pound me into the ground.”

Sarah said quickly, “Now, Josh, don't say that. One thing we've both learned from being in this place and serving Goel is that power is not always the answer. Time and time again we've seen Goel send the mighty into the dust, haven't we now? So you just stop putting yourself down. You hear me?”

Josh glanced over and took in Sarah's flashing eyes. He grinned. “You always were bossy. What would you do if you didn't have me to boss around?”

Sarah sniffed. “I am not bossy. I just think you need to realize who you are, that's all. Come on now, let's see what the king has to say.”

* * *

The Seven Sleepers filed in front of the long table where the council sat.

The king looked up. “Stand not upon ceremony. We have no time to waste. You're wondering why we've called you all together.”

Reb said at once, “Why, Your Majesty, it has to be about this dragon. That's all anyone's talking about.”

Dion gazed at the tall young man and nodded. “That's right, Sir Reb. The kingdom is going to fall apart if something isn't done. Elendar's suggested that we bring you Sleepers here. Elendar, you speak to them.”

Elendar stepped forward. “No man knows the mind of Goel except as he chooses to reveal himself. But we know that he does not do things foolishly, and we know that he never fails. Therefore, I have to assume that you seven have been sent to Camelot to perform a task. The only question is, how is this task to be accomplished?”

Silence fell across the room.

Finally the quiet was broken by Reb, who said rather loudly, “Why, I reckon I know the answer to that.”

He watched the eyes of Elendar unblinkingly. He had met with Mogen the night before. She stayed with him long and told him that this was going to happen—that he would be called upon, that the king would ask the Sleepers to do something about the threat to the kingdom, and she had whispered, “This is your chance—not only to win more favor with the king but to win more than that.”

“More than that?” Reb answered. “What could that be?”

Mogen smiled. “Power lies within your grasp, Reb. Don't let it slip from you. Men will do anything for power, and I want you to have it. Why, it's not beyond reason that you might one day rule this whole kingdom.”

At one time this would have seemed foolish to Reb, but since meeting Mogen and since she had been coming to him in the dark hours of the night, he had changed greatly. He simply smiled. “Well, I reckon I could handle it, if it comes to that.”

He had not seen her evil smile behind her hand, and now as he faced the council he felt large and powerful and strong. The medallion burned on his chest as he said, “I'll fight this dragon. He can't stand before me.”

“Reb,” Josh broke in, appalled, “that's not for you to say.”

“Indeed, I would not like to see you meet this beast,” King Dion said. “ You've proved your courage, young man,
many times, but this beast is more than any man can defeat. The prophecy came forth long ago that no man born of woman could defeat the monster created by the Dark Lord. We all feel that this is the monster that was spoken of, and therefore you would be killed if you attempted to fight it.”

“Right now is the time to hit him!” Reb cried out. He clapped his hand on his sword, drew it, and brandished it in the air. “I will kill this varmint for you, Your Majesty! I know it!”

* * *

Elendar half closed his eyes at Reb's words, but King Dion gasped in astonishment. “Why, Sir Reb—I believe you might do it. I don't know why, but somehow, even as you speak, I feel power coming out of you.”

The elders all nodded. Their leader stood and said, “Let the young man try his strength against that of the dragon.”

King Dion hesitated only one moment. Then he agreed. “Yes, let it be so. Sir Reb,” he said, “if you succeed in your quest, you will be the foremost knight in all of Camelot.”

Sir Gwin frowned at that and shot a glance at Prince Loren, who sat silent, his face pale.

Josh was standing where he could see the prince's face.
Pretty hard on Prince Loren, to be put aside in favor of a stranger,
he thought.
But he wouldn't have any more chance against that dragon than I would.

The king came to stand before Sir Reb. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder. “Sir Reb, you may choose any here to accompany you.”

But Reb seemed filled with the feeling of power. He shook his head. “I'll get right at it!” He whirled and left the room.

The king stared after him. He turned then to the other Sleepers. “May Goel be with him! For if he is not, he has no chance.”

Josh felt great fear, for he had learned to love Bob Lee Jackson. True, of late he had been somewhat swollen with pride, but that did not change what the two had shared. When they were outside the king's chambers, Josh said, “I'm going to go as his squire. Perhaps I can do something.”

But when he caught up with Reb, Reb said simply, “No, Josh. You need to stay here with the other Sleepers. I can take care of this myself. I've decided not even to take a squire.”

Josh replied quietly, “Reb, something is … wrong with you. You're not the same as you used to be.”

“I should hope not.” Reb laughed. “I was a pretty sorry specimen when I first got here! Now I'm the king's favorite—and likely to be more!”

Josh squinted, searching Reb's face. “That's what I mean. That's exactly the sort of thing Bob Lee Jackson would never have said. It's like—” he hesitated “—it's like somebody else has got inside of you.”

For one moment Reb's eyes widened, but then he said, “You're dreaming, Josh.” He patted Josh on the shoulder. “You take care of things here. After I've knocked this dragon off, we'll have a long talk about the way things are going to be.”

Reb walked away, and Josh turned back to where the rest of the group were waiting.

“Josh,” Sarah said, “could you talk any sense into him?”

“He won't listen.” He turned to Princess Elaine, who had joined Sarah. “Couldn't
you
talk to him, Princess? He thinks a lot of you.”

Elaine looked after the departing young man. A thought seemed to come to her, but instead of speaking she slipped silently away.

“She can't do any more than the rest of us,” Dave said.

“Sure wish I had that attack rifle,” Jake muttered.

“It'd take a Stealth Bomber to knock
that
thing out!” Wash said.

“Are you going as his squire?” Abbey asked Josh. “No. I asked him, but he wouldn't let me. He thinks he doesn't need any help.” He looked around sadly. “I'm afraid for him. Something's in him that shouldn't be there, and it's gonna get him killed.”

E
laine awakened out of a fitful sleep. She had tossed and turned and had drifted off only once or twice. When the sun barely had begun to turn the blackness of the eastern sky to a misty gray, she arose from her bed. Slipping into a robe, she walked out of her chamber, past the guard, and into the outer court.

For a long time she walked back and forth, for she had been troubled by thoughts of the crisis that had fallen upon Camelot. She thought of the horrible beast that had come to plague the kingdom and was troubled by Reb's insistence on going forth to do battle with him.

The first red light of morning drew a line against the eastern horizon as she stood at a parapet overlooking the castle grounds.

Suddenly she was aware of someone on the balcony with her! Thinking it was a servant, she turned and started to speak, then halted abruptly. A man she had never seen before stood there.

Her heart lurched with fear. “Who are you? What do you want?”

In the murky light of morning the man advanced, and when Elaine retreated he threw back the cowl that hid his face. “Do not fear, my daughter,” he said quietly.

Something in the strong, clean features of her visitor took away the apprehension that had filled Elaine. He was very tall and had light brown hair that fell to his shoulders. His age was indeterminate. Though he was not old, he seemed mature beyond his outer appearance. Something
in the depths of his gray eyes spoke of wisdom and calmness like the mountains far to the west—solid, steady, immovable.

He waited as she regained her composure, then said, “My name is Goel.”

“Goel!” Elaine felt the power of the presence of the one about whom she had heard so much. She could not speak for a moment. Then she curtsied deeply, and from that position, bowing her head, she whispered, “I welcome you, my lord.”

Goel approached and put out his hand. When Elaine took it, he lifted her to her feet. “You have been a faithful handmaiden of your father and mother, Princess.” His voice ran deep, and there was surety in it and gladness despite its tone. “Now,” he added, “I have come to ask that you be
my
handmaiden.”

“Me!” Elaine gasped. “But, my lord, I am not worthy to be the servant of Goel!”

“Every woman and girl I call to be my servant,” Goel said. Sadness came into his fine eyes as he added in a grieved tone, “Not all I call will answer. But all women are called, as are all men.” He studied her face, then smiled. “I see that you are ready, and I am pleased with you, my daughter.”

Elaine felt that his eyes were going past her outward form, that he was reading the impulses of her heart, and she experienced a flash of joy as she said in wonder, “Why, I have waited for you all my life, Goel, but I didn't even know what I was waiting for!”

“I am glad you feel that way,” he said quietly. “Now, I have come to call you to a difficult task—one that many strong men would hesitate to dare.”

“What is it, Sire?”

“You are part of a plan that I have devised to save
your father's kingdom. The Dark Powers are a foot, and now the danger is great.”

“You mean the dragon.”

“The beast is only a part. The Dark Lord's arm is long. He has many deadly servants—and unless something is quickly done, Camelot will fall under his sway.”

“I will do anything you command, Lord Goel,” Elaine said at once. She saw a smile come to his lips. “But I am not able to do much.”

“You are able to believe in me and to obey my word,” Goel answered, “and that is more than you know, Princess.” His face grew very serious. “Listen carefully. I will tell you what you must do.”

* * *

At the moment Goel was visiting Elaine, Bob Lee Jackson, too, had a visitor.

He had risen early and was preparing his equipment to ride out of Camelot. He had determined to take no squire with him but to go alone. He finished saddling Thunder and was about to swing into the saddle when suddenly Mogen was there.

He started. She had the habit of appearing seemingly out of nowhere. But he was glad to see her. He had reached the point where he grew apprehensive when she did
not
appear. Once he had said to himself,
Reb Jackson, you're getting to be pretty bad. If you don't see Mogen regular, you're afraid of your own shadow

This troubled him, for he had always been a self-sufficient young man. But now, this woman had grown to be something of an addiction for him. He
had
to see her, and he felt uncertain when he could not.

She came at various times, sometimes in dreams and visions, often speaking strange things into his ear that he could barely remember when he came out of sleep. His
dreams when she came to him were troublesome, frightening, and filled with shapes that he could never quite remember but that would have been nightmarish had he seen them in his waking hours.

“Sir Reb,” Mogen said.

Her gown surprised him. Oftentimes she wore black, but this morning she was clothed entirely in a white garment that gleamed in the morning sun. Her eyes were shaded by some thought, and he felt again the power of her glance.

“It is time for you to prove yourself and the power that is in you.”

Even as she spoke, Reb felt the medallion begin to glow against his chest. He had taken it off the night before to bathe and was shocked at the fear he felt when it was not around his neck. Quickly he put it on again and drew a sigh of relief.

Now he touched it. “What
is
this medallion, Mogen? Why do I feel so powerful when I wear it and SO . . . so lost when I take it off? It's as though it has become a part of me.”

Mogen's lips curved upward. “Do not fear. It
has
become a part of you, but it has given you power, and that is what you need.” She came closer. “The hour has come for you to prove yourself and the power of the medallion. You will see soon the source of this great power. You and I, together, will do marvelous things in Camelot, once you have done this.”

Reb said hoarsely, “What will we do?”

“We will rule together, you and I,” Mogen whispered. And then she stepped back. “Now, one more task. You will go to meet the dragon, and, when you go, remember the power that lies within the medallion.”

She spoke to him for some time, then put her hands on his cheeks and began a chant, using as usual words he did
not understand. But as she spoke, they flowed over him, touching the deepest springs in his heart. They frightened him and yet exalted him at the same time. Finally she stopped.

“Let's go now. To the Valley of the Stone. Do you know it?”

“I know where it is. Sir Gwin said it is best not to go there.” He added hastily, “He said the place was haunted, but I thought that was just superstition.”

She did not answer at once, then said, “There are strange things in that valley, but there you will meet the dragon, and there you must overcome. Remember, when you meet the dragon, hold up the medallion and cry out with all of your heart that which I have given you today. Go quickly now, and when you return, Camelot will be ours.”

She stepped back, and Reb watched as she turned and disappeared around the comer of a building. He thought,
I can't figure out where she stays. She's always there, but it's like she suddenly appears from nowhere.

Quickly he arranged his armor on the packhorse, mounted Thunder, and started to ride out. When he reached the city gate, he was met by someone he had never seen before.

“Who's that?” Reb asked sharply.

“I'm your squire for this journey, Sir Reb.” The speaker was mounted on a small gray horse and was clad in Lincoln green. The rider's cloak covered his form, and his face was hidden by the cowling that was drawn over it.

“I need no squire,” Reb said. “Who are you?”

“I am sent by Goel,” was the answer.

“Goel?” Reb started. The sound of the name sent a sudden shaft of fear through him that he could not explain. He had always loved Goel, had been the most interested
of all the Seven in the stories of the leader they followed. “Where is he?”

“He will not be far away. Now his command is that I follow you.”

Reb leaned forward, trying to look into the face of the speaker. He hesitated. Something in him said to refuse the offer, but he could not refuse Goel. He wondered why Mogen had said nothing of this. Finally, unable to decide, he said gruffly, “Come along if you're coming. We're going to the Valley of the Stone. Are you afraid?”

“No,” was the quiet answer. “I am not afraid.”

“Come on, then.” Reb spurred his mighty horse forward. Deliberately he tried to outdistance his follower, but every time he looked back, there the smaller horse was with the rider cloaked in green.

* * *

The Valley of the Stone was so called because of a massive stone, a black rock, that pointed toward the sky like a huge finger.

As Reb rode past the stone, he felt a vibration that seemed to shake the earth. If he had been apprehensive before, now he knew that this valley was not a normal place. But he touched the medallion on his chest and felt its familiar power flow through him, and once again he pressed forward.

The valley was filled with many stones and small clumps of trees—scrub oak mostly—and deep gullies that cut across its surface. Carefully he guided Thunder along the lips of the ravines, always alert, scanning the sky, for he knew that from there the dragon would appear. From time to time he glanced back and saw the rider in green silently following.

I wonder who that is?
he asked himself. Then he shrugged.
He won't be any help in a fight, that's for sure.
He had noted that the rider carried a bow and a quiver of arrows but was aware that they would be of little use.

What Reb himself carried was a long lance that Mogen had told him was charmed. “All you have to do is pierce the beast with the tip, and he will die.”

The sun was high in the sky when Reb suddenly heard a faint whistling to his right. Looking up, he saw a speck just over the trees. That speck grew larger, and the whistling grew louder, until he recognized it as the keening noise that many witnesses of the dragon had spoken of. He held his lance firmly and urged Thunder forward.

Then he decided to fight on foot. Stepping off his horse, he looked back and called to the squire, “Hold this hoss while I kill this varmint!”

The rider in green came forward and dismounted but said nothing.

Reb said, “Those arrows won't help you none—not against that thing.”

“I will do what I can,” was the answer.

Reb again tried to see his face but could not.

The monster drew close. Reb ran forward a few steps, and then the air seemed full of the sound of the screaming beast. Suddenly it was in front of him. Fully twenty feet high, the beast reared up, slender of body but with flaming red eyes and a mouth full of gleaming teeth—white and sharp as sabers.

Fear tried to creep over Reb, but he advanced toward the dragon.

The beast reared again, its glinting scales catching the sun. Its white underbelly was revealed, and Reb picked the spot where he would plant his lance.

Got to get close enough to put this spear in that varmint.
He held his shield high, and when the screaming creature started toward him, tail whipping madly and venomous
froth falling from its fangs, he muttered, “Can't let him get those teeth into me, but got to get closer!”

The beast suddenly lunged. Reb threw up his arm and took the driving force of the serpentlike head on his shield. But the impact drove him backward. He dropped both shield and lance and fell sprawling.

The beast reared up over him. There was a scream of victory from its open jaws.

And then Reb remembered. The medallion! The moment had arrived. He thrust a hand under his shirt. Bringing forth the amulet, he held it high and cried out the formula that Mogen had given him.

He fully expected to see the beast fall down dead—but nothing happened! Again he cried the words, but the medallion, he saw, had grown dull.

Then, to one side, the form of Mogen suddenly materialized. She was dressed this time in black, with her hood thrown back.

Reb cried out, “Mogen, help me!”

Mogen did not move, and somehow she seemed to grow older, her face lengthening and her eyes turning into mere slits.

What's happening?
Reb thought wildly, and he called out again. “Help me! The medallion isn't working!”

“You fool!” Mogen laughed, but it was a cackle, not the smooth laugh of the girl he had come to know. She seemed transformed into an old woman! Her fingers had grown into long claws, her face was wrinkled, her mouth twisted into a cruel sneer. “Now you know who I am. You were such an easy prey. Now you will taste what it is like to be under the power of the Dark Lord!”

“The Dark Lord!
But you said you were from Goel!”

“No,” Mogen sneered. “I have nothing to do with Goel.” Then she cackled again. “Now taste the teeth of the dragon.”

Reb turned quickly and saw the beast move toward him at a sign from the witch—as he now knew Mogen to be. He rolled to his feet and seized his lance. And, as the dragon dropped his evil head forward, Reb struck.

But the point of the lance slid off the breast of the beast. The monster's teeth snapped at him. Reb threw up his arm and felt searing pain as the teeth sank into it.
The poison—I'm a goner!

He tried to retreat, but the dragon, with a powerful sweep of its head, threw him rolling in the dirt. He saw that his arm was torn. Already he felt the poison beginning to work, going quickly through his whole body like molten fire.
I'm dying, and it's too late!

At that moment Mogen cried, “Stay away! Who are you?”

Reb opened his eyes to see the squire who had followed him. His eyes were swimming now with pain, but he saw the squire stop and nock a silver arrow into his bow.