Sword of Light (8 page)

The bloodbeard yelled and dived after the glove. Now they could see it was a man’s severed fist wearing a black gauntlet with a ring on its little finger. But before he could reach it,
the captain fell under Elphin’s spell and yawned. Rhianna put the sword to his throat and forced him backwards until he stumbled over his own poker and went down, dazed. The other bloodbeard seized a flaming stick from the fire and came at them, scowling. Then Elphin’s music enchanted him, too, and with a shove from Cai he tripped over his friend and joined him in the land of dreams.

Cai used his dagger to free Sir Bors, who had slumped unconscious in his bonds. Rhianna stepped around the severed fist, feeling a bit sick. She wondered which poor prisoner it had belonged to. Her wrist had gone numb where the gauntlet had gripped it. With a grunt of effort, using both hands, she raised Sir Bors’ sword over the man who had been torturing him.

“No, Rhia!” Elphin said, also eyeing the dark fist. “Blood will break the enchantment. Cai, go fetch the horses. I don’t think I can keep this up much longer. We’ll have to be quick.”

As Cai ran outside again, Rhianna lowered the sword. The rushing noise faded, and she shook her head. What had she been thinking? King Arthur of the songs would never kill a sleeping man.

She cast the groaning bloodbeard a final glare. Then she took Sir Bors’ shoulders, while Elphin took his feet. For once, Cai had been quick. Working together, they managed to heave the big knight across his horse’s back. They used some of his cut bonds to tie him on. Then Elphin vaulted onto his mist horse, while Rhianna boosted Cai up on the bay behind the unconscious Bors. She put the reins in his hands.

“But I can’t ride,” Cai wailed.

“You’ll have to,” Rhianna told him. “Follow Elphin’s horse.”

“But what about you?”

“I’ll ride my own horse.” She slapped the bay on the rump. “Go!” she said, already running.

She had buckled Bors’ scabbard around her waist, but even so the sword banged against her legs. The shield, though lighter, proved just as awkward to carry. She wondered how a knight managed in battle if they were unseated, and swore never to let that happen to her. She wished now she hadn’t taken Cynric’s torque because she didn’t need the extra weight, and her wrist still felt numb. But she was angry with herself for causing them to get captured, as well as scared by what she had seen in the hut,
so she kept up easily with the horses. Elphin played his harp as they went until they were past the last snoring sentry and trotting up the dark hillside into the fog.

“Alba!” she called softly. “Alba, you can stop misting now.”

Just as her legs began to wobble from the effort of running and she started to think the mare had gone back to Avalon, the mist sparkled and Alba trotted out to meet them. Her reins were broken, but otherwise the little mare seemed unharmed. Evenstar gave a whinny of welcome. Rhianna dropped the sword and shield and threw her arms around her mist horse’s neck. With her face buried in the damp mane, she trembled with relief. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me, my beautiful one,” she whispered.

Of course not
, Alba said, indignant.
I want my apples
.

“Rhia,” Elphin warned. “They’ll be waking up soon. We have to go.”

“Go where?” Cai said, clinging to the bay horse’s mane with a worried look.

Rhianna strapped the dragon shield to Alba’s saddle and mounted the mare. She searched the dark hillside in hope, but saw no sign of the other two knights. Merlin obviously wasn’t at Camelot yet, either, or he’d have helped them. She looked longingly over her shoulder at the white towers that sheltered her mother. So close… but the queen should be safe enough, as long as nobody opened the gates before they got back.

She considered her friends’ frightened faces, the fog and the unconscious knight. There was
only one place she could think of to go now.

She took a deep breath and gave the squire a determined look. “We have to find the lake where Sir Bors threw away Excalibur,” she said.

M
ordred might have known something would go wrong.

His mother had shown him a trick with his missing hand, which his bloodbeards had rescued from the battlefield. With her help, using the spirit magic, he could send his shadow through the mists to rejoin it.

After a queasy time trying to leave his body, he found himself standing in a torchlit hut holding a red-hot poker over a groaning prisoner who was tied to a frame. He recognised the prisoner as one of Arthur’s knights, Sir Bors, who used to bellow at him on the training ground and punish him for
cheating in the jousts. He smiled as the poker hissed into the knight’s shoulder.

Then, just as he was beginning to enjoy himself, three youngsters burst through the door. He glimpsed a tall, red-haired girl with a sword in her hand and forgot he wasn’t really in the hut with her. He tried to seize her wrist and was flung back on his rocky bed.

“What happened?” he gasped, groping for the mirror. “Was that Excalibur?”

His mother frowned. “No, fortunately for us – but I think we might have underestimated Arthur’s daughter.”

“What do you mean? Just tell me what happened, woman! God, it
hurts
!” His missing fingers burned like tongues of fire. He wondered if that idiot bloodbeard had taken hold of the wrong end of the poker.

“Don’t swear at me,” his mother snapped. “I’m doing my best to help you. Now, you must try again.”

“Why?” Mordred didn’t see why he had to endure more pain just to spy on his own men. “Can’t you send your shadrake again?”

“Forget the dragon!” snapped the witch. “The creature appears to have a mind of its own. If Merlin’s tried the spirit transfer with a shadrake, he’s crazier than I thought – but we don’t need it any more. Use the power of your fist. Your man has no idea of the importance of the girl he captured. You must tell him before it is too late.”

Mordred saw the sense in this. When the pain had eased, he sent his shadow back. It was easier this time. The captive knight had gone. Dawn showed at the door of the
hut. The bloodbeards were sitting up, rubbing their eyes and yawning.

Mordred concentrated hard and made his gauntleted fist crawl across the floor to seize the captain’s ankle. The man lifted a foot to kick the thing away, then froze as he saw Mordred’s shadowy form in the doorway.

“M-master?” he whispered, rubbing his eyes again.

“Yes, it’s me,” Mordred snapped. “What are you up to? Where’s the girl gone?”

“I… I’m not sure, Master. I had the strangest dream.” The bloodbeard frowned at the empty frame and the cut ropes.

He groaned, as if only just noticing his prisoner had gone.

“That was no dream, you fool!” The effort of holding the man’s ankle with his severed
fist made Mordred even more impatient than usual. “She’s escaped, hasn’t she? Along with that knight you were questioning. Get after her! That ‘village girl’ you so stupidly left with the Saxon chief is King Arthur’s daughter. I want her caught and brought to me at once. I hope you persuaded the knight to tell you what they did with my uncle’s sword, because if my cousin gets hold of Excalibur before I do, your life won’t be worth living. Go!”

Mordred tried to snatch up the poker to reinforce his message, but his control wavered. The hut vanished, leaving him panting and dizzy on his bed of rock.

“Good,” his mother said from the mirror. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re strong enough yet to do that very often. But your men should be suitably motivated now.
Don’t worry, my son. We have other tricks to play. Our troublesome damsel won’t get much further.”

7

Battlefield

T
hough Rhianna wanted to gallop as fast and far from the Saxon camp as possible, she knew Cai would only fall off if they did. They trotted as fast as they dared, keeping the bay horse between them, while the boy cast nervous glances at the sky and muttered about
Mordred’s spies flying in the dark. The night was very still and fog wrapped them in a damp blanket. To begin with, Rhianna couldn’t think why it seemed so quiet. Then she realised Elphin had slipped his harp back into its bag, concentrating instead on making Evenstar mist across their prints to confuse their trail.

She started to worry about Sir Bors, who had not stirred since they’d rescued him from the Saxon camp. At first she hadn’t really wanted the big knight to wake up, in case he stopped them going to the lake to look for the sword. But the further they went, the more unnatural his sleep seemed. What if they ran into another band of Mordred’s men out here in the dark? Her wrist still felt cold where the dark gauntlet had gripped it. She didn’t know if she could fight.

“Can’t you heal him with your magic?” she whispered to her friend, glancing at the unconscious knight.

Elphin shook his head. “Sorry, Rhia.” His reins lay loose on his horse’s neck, and she noticed spots of blood in Evenstar’s mane.

“Your hands!” she said in concern.

He curled his blistered fingers in embarrassment. “It’s the strings,” he explained. “I couldn’t stop playing, or we wouldn’t have got out of the Saxon camp. It never used to happen in Avalon.”

“You should have said something.” She felt angry again. Why hadn’t Merlin warned them magic had a price in the world of men? Then she remembered Lord Avallach giving final instructions to her friend before they left Avalon, when she had been so impatient to get going.
Elphin must have known the consequences of using magic all along, but he had still played his harp so they could escape.

He gave her a weary smile. “And let those Saxons find out who you were and use you as a hostage? My father would never forgive me.” He added in a low tone, “Besides, I can’t just keep playing my harp out here. If anything is following us, the music will give us away for sure. It’s not only dragons we need to worry about. There was darker magic than mine at work in that hut… Don’t say anything to him, but Cai might be right about Mordred’s spies.”

Rhianna thought of the shadowy figure she’d seen in the hut and shivered. She pulled her cloak tighter. As they rode, her wrist that the gauntlet had touched grew colder. She slipped it under her Avalonian armour, which
seemed to help a bit. She didn’t make a fuss. If Elphin realised, he’d only insist on playing his harp to heal her, and his fingers were in a worse state than her wrist was. She hoped Excalibur might work some magic on it once they got to the lake.

She eyed Cai, who had been unusually quiet since they left the camp. “You do know where you’re going, don’t you?” she asked. The last thing they needed was to get lost out here in the dark and ride into another band of Mordred’s bloodbeards.

The squire chewed his lip. “Sort of. I know the way to the battlefield, anyhow. The lake should be close to there.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It was my fault we got captured,” he said in a small voice. “I should have stayed hidden
in the bushes like Sir Agravaine told me to, only I was so scared I couldn’t think right.” He sniffed. “I’m glad you came back for me, Damsel Rhianna. I’ll never be a brave knight like my father was.”

Rhianna sighed. “No, it was my fault – I should have waited for the knights before coming back to help you. I never thought those bloodbeards would actually shoot me.” Another shiver went through her. If it hadn’t been for her magic armour, Elphin would even now be on his way back to Avalon with her body, and Mordred would have all the time in the world to find Excalibur. “Besides, you’re doing just fine,” she added, shaking the thought away. “You’re riding now, aren’t you?”

Cai looked down at his horse in surprise. Coming over the hills, he had clung to the ropes
securing the unconscious knight and let the bay horse follow the two mist horses. But once they had left the hills behind and descended out of the fog into a wooded valley, he had taken up the reins and was now trotting out in front.

“I am!” He grinned in delight. “Just wait till the other squires see me! Shall we go a bit faster?”

He gave the bay a kick in the ribs, and the big horse leaped forward as it had obviously been trained to do in a joust. Cai lost his balance and tumbled off over its tail.

That stallion is stupid,
Alba observed, as the bay horse trotted off with Sir Bors.
I would not leap like that with an inexperienced rider
.

“No, you misted with me instead,” Rhianna reminded the mare. But she had to smile as the squire jumped up and ran after the horse.
It reminded her of how she’d learned to ride Alba, falling off until she got fed up with the bruises and finally managed to stay on.

“I think you’d better learn to gallop another day, Cai.” Elphin winked at Rhianna as he dismounted to boost the boy back into the saddle again. “For now, just concentrate on not getting us lost.”

“You concentrate on keeping that dragon off me, fairy boy!” Cai scowled at the Avalonian. “That’s obviously why my horse is so jumpy today.”

Rhianna fought a smile.

They rode in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Several times Rhianna thought she heard large wings beating overhead in the dark, but she kept quiet. Cai was spooked enough already. She thought instead of the
shining figure she’d seen outside Camelot’s walls when the arrow had hit her. Had it really been her father’s ghost, or just her imagination?

At dawn, they crested a hill and saw the battlefield below them. A river wound across the plain under a layer of drifting crimson mist. Ravens circled and cawed overhead. As the sun cleared the ridge, she realised the lumps she’d assumed to be dozing sheep were dead men, their bones pale in the early light.

“Which way’s the lake?” she asked, feeling a bit sick.

“Dunno.” Cai frowned. “But it can’t be very far. Sir Bedivere ran there and back again at least three times before Sir Bors took Excalibur off him to throw it in.”

Rhianna gritted her teeth and headed Alba down the slope.

She tried not to look at the bodies they passed, but the ravens’ cries made her neck prickle, and the smell was
awful
. She covered her mouth as she rode. Dead men lay where they had fallen, with lances and arrows sticking out of them and empty sockets where the birds had pecked out their eyes. The mist horses snorted and danced sideways, unused to such things.

I do not like it here
, Alba said, picking up her delicate feet as high as she could.

Fortunately for Cai the bay horse had been battle trained and trotted steadily past the bodies, but the boy clung to its mane as if afraid the dead men would rise up to grab his ankles. Elphin’s fingers tightened on his reins, his eyes deep purple.

Rhianna began to see why Lord Avallach disapproved of fighting. What if Merlin didn’t
turn up, and she had to lead her father’s knights against Mordred’s army, after all? She wondered if she would ever have the stomach to take part in a battle like this one, even if she managed to find Excalibur and persuaded someone to teach her how to use it.

Then she remembered Mordred’s man torturing Sir Bors in the hut, and set her jaw. If she met the bloodbeard on a battlefield with a magic sword in her hand, maybe she would feel differently.

About halfway to the river, they entered a patch of mist. She felt a strange tingling in her spine, and her Avalonian armour grew warm. She reined Alba to a halt.

Elphin stopped Evenstar at her side. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Feels like magic—”

Even as she spoke, the air shimmered. She closed her eyes, suddenly dizzy, and found herself in one of Merlin’s song-pictures.

Ghostly warriors fought all around her. Men’s swords flashed down and their mouths moved, but there was no sound as they died. Then a big horse came galloping out of the sun, ridden by a knight in black armour wielding an axe. His eyes glittered green through a slit in his helm, from which a black plume trailed like wings.

For a heartbeat she sat Alba in the path of the horse, frozen with terror. Then she dragged Bors’ sword out of its scabbard and swung it clumsily at the dark knight. The heavy blade passed straight through him and slipped out of her hand to land, shivering, in the grass. She reached down to retrieve it, and her breath stopped in her throat. Almost under Alba’s hooves lay the man
she’d last seen in the bottom of Merlin’s boat. His head was bare and blood ran down his face. His hands clasped a shining sword…

“Father!” she cried, swinging her leg over the saddle to help him.

“Rhia!” Elphin’s hand caught her elbow, jerking her back. “Ignore them! They can’t hurt you. They’re just confused souls who don’t want to leave their bodies because they died before their time in the battle. The Wild Hunt will take them into the mists when it rides into the world of men at midwinter. It must be your armour making them visible – look, it’s shining. Pull your cloak over it. I think we should get off this battlefield.”

“Me too,” Cai said.

“No, wait!” Rhianna spun Alba round on the spot, looking in vain for the wounded king.
“This is where my father died.”

Elphin gave her a sharp look. “Are you sure?”

“How do you know?” Cai said.

“I know, all right? And they took Excalibur that way… across the river.” Her heart quickened as she glimpsed a pale figure on the far bank beckoning to her. But before she could see if it was her father, a dark cloud passed over the water and the ghost vanished on an icy wind.

Drawn by their voices, hoof beats thundered towards them. Elphin’s hand flew to his harp as two knights cantered out of the mist. Still dizzy from her vision, Rhianna reached desperately for the dropped sword. Then the bay horse whinnied to the newcomers and she relaxed.

“Sir Agravaine!” Cai said in relief. “Sir Bedivere!”

Sir Agravaine gave the three of them an equally relieved look. “We’ve been following you for ages. You’re more difficult to track than a herd of unicorns!” He frowned at the unconscious Sir Bors. “What did those devils do to him back there? No, don’t tell me. I can guess. You can tell us how you escaped later. Right now we’d best get off this battlefield before anyone spots us. There’s Saxon boats coming upriver.” He set his heels to his stallion and pounded away across the plain.

Still disturbed by her vision, Rhianna held Alba back, staring anxiously at the river. But her father’s ghost had gone, and her friends were already galloping after Sir Agravaine. Before she could gather her thoughts, Alba gave a little squeal and leaped after the others.

By some miracle, Cai was still on the
bay horse’s back when they pulled up in a woodland glade. Thousands of flies, bred on the battlefield, buzzed in the air. Golden leaves steamed sweetly in the autumn sunshine. Their horses snorted in relief to be away from the smell of the dead.

“All right now?” Elphin whispered.

Rhianna nodded. “I dropped Sir Bors’ sword,” she admitted.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sir Bedivere said. “We’ll get it back when the Saxons have gone. Poor old Bors isn’t in any fit state to use it yet, anyway. Did those bodies give Damsel Rhianna a funny turn?”

Rhianna opened her mouth to tell them about King Arthur’s ghost, then changed her mind. She didn’t feel ready to think about all those men who had died fighting in her father’s
last battle, let alone the dark knight. “Yes,” she said rubbing her wrist, which had gone cold again. “It’s the first time I’ve been on a battlefield.”

Cai gave her a sympathetic look. “You did better than me. I was sick my first time.”

Sir Agravaine dismounted to examine Sir Bors, who had begun to groan, though he still showed no sign of waking. “Looks like we could all do with some rest. We should be safe enough from Mordred’s spies under the trees. We’ll stop here for a bit, let them boats pass before we ride on up to our camp – we don’t want anyone following us there. Ought to find out what those Saxons are up to, as well.”

“They’re probably looking for Excalibur,” Rhianna said, making an effort to pull herself together. “Mordred’s men said something
about dredging the lake for it. It’s across the river, isn’t it? We should go there now, before they find it.”

“I agree,” Elphin said. “The bloodbeards tortured Sir Bors back in the camp. He might have told them where to look.”

“Absolutely not,” Sir Agravaine said. “Bors would never talk, and the bloodbeards won’t find the path without one of the Pendragon blood. Damsel Rhianna’s in no state to go swimming after a magic sword. We’ve only just got you back from the Saxons. We’re not about to risk losing you a second time.”