Sword of Light (9 page)

“Look, there’s still some blackberries left!” Sir Bedivere said, seeing their disappointed faces. “We’ll make camp here until Sir Bors wakes up and let him decide, how about that?”

Rhianna eyed the unconscious knight and
frowned. He didn’t look as if he’d wake up any time soon. Cai had already dismounted and was gathering the juicy blackberries, stuffing them into his mouth as fast as he picked them. She watched him for a moment, wondering how he could possibly eat so much after what they’d just ridden past. Then the trees tipped sideways, and she found herself lying in a bed of leaves with Alba’s nose breathing anxiously in her ear.

I am sorry, I misted. I am trying to remember not to
.

Elphin knelt beside her and put his hand on her forehead. It reminded her of when the branch had knocked her off back in Avalon. She pushed it away. “Don’t fuss,” she said. “I’ll be all right, but we have to get to that lake before Mordred’s men. I think I know the way now…” She told him how she’d seen
King Arthur’s ghost beckon to her.

Elphin listened gravely. For a moment she didn’t think he believed her. Then he nodded. He glanced at the knights, who were lowering Sir Bors to the ground. “Best wait until dark to make sure no one follows us. Leave it to me.”

Later, Sir Agravaine took Cai back to the battlefield to collect Sir Bors’ sword. They returned with a pile of spare weapons and reported that the Saxon boats had stopped for the night. Sir Bors looked a bit better, sleeping more naturally now. Rhianna joined her friends around the fire as they shared out the last of the blackberries. She tucked her cold legs under her.

“Tell me about my father’s sword,” she said.
“Why did he ask you to throw it away?”

“God knows,” Sir Agravaine growled. “Though Merlin probably put him up to it… druid stuff, no doubt. Mind you, if young Bedivere had his way, we’d still have Excalibur and Soft Hands here to lead us!”

Sir Bedivere flushed. “I didn’t want to keep it for myself.”

“Just as well, because you’ll never be strong enough to control it.”

Sir Bedivere smiled, acknowledging this. “Have you heard the story of how your father drew Excalibur from a stone to become king, Damsel Rhianna?”

Rhianna nodded. “Everyone knows that old story.”

They had a song in Avalon that told of how, as a boy, Arthur had amazed everyone by
freeing the sword from a rock when no grown knight could shift it. It would be an easy enough trick for an Avalonian, of course, and no doubt Merlin had used his magic to help her father back then.

“But I still don’t understand how Excalibur gives the Pendragon power over men,” she said. “How does the magic work, exactly? Cai told us it feeds on souls…”

“It does!” Cai said. “Except for King Arthur, anyone who touches Excalibur dies a horrible death.”

“That’s not quite true, Cai,” Sir Bedivere said. “Plenty of men tried to pull it out of the stone before Arthur did. King Arthur gave it to me when he was dying, and Sir Bors took it up to the lake. We’re not dead, are we?”

They looked uneasily at the sleeping knight.

“That’s not because he touched Excalibur,” Sir Bedivere said quickly. “I wrapped it up in my cloak to be on the safe side.”

“It fed on those Saxons’ souls all right,” Sir Agravaine said with a chuckle. “Excalibur’s supposed to give the Pendragon the strength of a hundred men, and I saw Arthur kill at least a hundred of the barbarians before he died, so the sword works fine. Just as well it’s lying at the bottom of an enchanted lake, if you ask me. God help us all if Mordred ever gets hold of it.”

Rhianna sighed. Obviously the knights didn’t know how the magic worked any more than she did.

“If Excalibur gave my father the strength of a hundred men, then how come Mordred managed to kill him?” she asked, thinking uneasily of her vision on the battlefield.

“Everyone knows his witch-mother worked a dark spell on the sword,” Cai said. “King Arthur was really aiming for the little sneak’s neck, but Excalibur turned aside at the last moment and just chopped off Prince Mordred’s hand instead.”

“That’s squires’ gossip, Cai,” Sir Bedivere said, frowning at the boy. “I’m sure Damsel Rhianna doesn’t want to hear all the gory details. Now then, you youngsters had best get some sleep. It’s a long ride up to camp and we’ll be making an early start.”

Rhianna opened her mouth to say she did want to hear all the details, especially any that had to do with dark spells on the sword, since she’d soon be holding it herself. But Elphin reached for his harp and winked at her. “I’ll play something to help Sir Bors sleep,” he offered,
setting his blistered fingers to the strings.

As the sweet Avalonian music tinkled into the night, Rhianna curled up in her cloak and closed her eyes. She felt bad about making her friend play again so soon with his sore hands. But if the knights wouldn’t help them find the lake, they had no choice but to find it themselves.

She meant to stay awake until Elphin’s music had enchanted everyone. But the strain of their escape caught up with her, and she drifted into a muddled dream where her father’s ghost and Sir Bors were arguing in the trees near the camp. They kept looking at her, but she couldn’t hear their words. And when she tried to raise her head to see them better, the dark fist she’d seen in the Saxon camp grabbed her hair and dragged it back down.

She woke with a start in the middle of the night. A hand covered her mouth. She tasted blood, and her heart pounded with panic. She stiffened, determined not to be taken as a Saxon slave again.

“Hush, Rhia, it’s me.” Elphin whispered in her ear. He took his hand away and helped her sit up. “We’d better hurry if we’re going to find your lake before the knights wake up.”

Her heart steadied when she saw their mist horses waiting saddled in the moonlight. She must have been more tired than she’d thought to let Elphin’s music enchant her, too. She tiptoed after her friend, eyeing the sleepers. Cai’s blackberry-stained cheeks glowed in the firelight. The three knights moaned and shifted in their sleep.

“They’ll wake if anyone attacks, don’t worry,”
Elphin whispered as they mounted. “I didn’t work a very strong spell on them – my fingers are too sore. Though it seemed to work on you all right, sleepyhead! Any dreams?”

“I dreamed I saw my father talking to Sir Bors,” she told him.

Elphin nodded. “It’s possible, if we’re getting close to one of the Lights. Keep your eyes open.”

They rode in silence. Rhianna hoped for another glimpse of King Arthur’s ghost, but only the moon shone through the trees to guide them. The moonlit forest and rustling night creatures reminded her of Avalon, and she almost forgot they were in the land of men being hunted by a dragon and Mordred’s bloodbeards. Then she saw the place on the riverbank where the ghost had beckoned to her.
Excitement tingled through her.

“This is it!” Without waiting for her friend, she headed Alba down the bank. The mare sniffed at the running water suspiciously. But her hooves glittered with enchantments as she stepped delicately on to the surface and trotted out into the middle. Rhianna smiled, relieved the Avalonian magic still worked in the land of men. Then she heard a splash and a surprised snort behind her. She looked round in concern.

Elphin held Evenstar on a tight rein. The horse’s legs were dissolving into mist. “I can’t go any further with you, Rhia,” he said quietly. “The Saxons stole my horse’s shoes back in the camp. I didn’t tell you before because you’d probably have made us go back for them, knowing you.”

She stared at her friend in dismay. Mist horses could swim no better than their Avalonian riders. “You can’t ride Evenstar back to Avalon without them!”

“I know. But if all goes well tonight, at least you’ll have Excalibur. I can’t see your ghost, anyway. I’ll wait here for you and keep an eye on those Saxons. My harp still sings with blood on the strings. If you hear it, stay hidden until the knights wake up.” He managed a brave smile.

Rhianna wanted to kiss him. Instead, she untied the dragon shield from her saddle and made him take it. She gave him the Avalonian gesture of respect. “I never thanked you for getting us out of that Saxon camp. I thought your harp would be useless against armed men, but now I see why Lord Avallach sent you with me.
Faha’ruh,
Elphin.”

He took the shield with another smile. “Save your thanks for after you’ve found your father’s sword. You’re going to have to swim. Rather you than me.”

“I like swimming,” she reminded him. She eyed her friend’s blisters doubtfully. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Will you be all right?”

“I’m a prince of Avalon,” Elphin said with a grin. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself, Rhianna Pendragon. You’re mortal remember?”

Alba trotted quietly across the moonlit river, watched by a startled swan. Rhianna felt very exposed as she cantered the mare up the slope on the other side. But Elphin’s music tinkled after her, wrapping them in enchantments, and she reached the trees safely.

She hesitated, wary of the narrow paths
where enemies could be waiting to ambush them. Then she saw a shining figure between the trunks and smiled. “Father?” she whispered. But the ghost merely beckoned and glimmered deeper into the wood. She put the stolen horseshoes out of her mind and urged Alba into a trot, determined not to lose him.

Her ghostly guide led her along a twisting path, always too far ahead to see his face. Soon she saw a gleam of silver water through the trunks, and they emerged into moonlight again, where the ghost vanished. Rhianna caught her breath in wonder. Despite her worry that Mordred’s men might have found the lake first, there was no sign of boats up here. Rainbows danced over the surface, reminding her of Lord Avallach’s palace. In the magical warmth, white lilies bloomed around the shore.

She dismounted, stripped off her armour and laid it over Alba’s saddle. She put the golden torque she’d stolen from the Saxon chief on top and bundled her cloak around them. She rubbed her numb wrist and scowled at her sack-dress. Somehow, she’d imagined looking a bit more regal when she recovered Excalibur. Never mind. Nobody would see her.

“Don’t let anyone catch you,” she warned the mare, looping the reins over the saddle.

Of course not! I will graze this sweet grass while I wait
.

She gave Alba a kiss to let the mare know she forgave her for not telling her about Evenstar’s lost shoes. Then she took a deep breath and dived into the moonlit water.

8

Lady of the Lake

T
he lake was warmer than she’d expected. Rhianna swam as quietly as she could, using a circular stroke she’d taught herself back in Avalon to avoid splashing. Water slipped
over her skin like liquid silver. The sack-dress swirled around her legs, but was short enough not to tangle them. Moonlight danced in the ripples she made. She kicked strongly, delighting in the stretch of her body and the rhythm of her stroke. She’d missed this. Just her and the water, alone with her thoughts.

As she began to wonder how she’d ever find the sword, she saw a glimmer in the depths like an underwater star. Just as well the Saxons had not reached the lake first. A shiver went through her as she remembered their big hands on her, and how close she had come to failing her quest before she’d even started. Treading water, she peered between her feet to check she had the right place. Then she took a huge gulp of air and dived towards the glimmer.

It was a long way down, much further than
she’d thought. Her lungs ached to breathe. But the light grew brighter all the way, until she recognised the white jewel and shining blade from Merlin’s song-pictures. Excalibur! The sword had fallen part way under a rocky shelf. She groped under the rock and reached for the hilt. But as she touched it, a pale hand appeared out of the shadows and snatched it from her grasp.

She watched in disbelief as the hand pulled the sword under the shelf. Had Mordred’s witch-mother worked some dark magic and lured her down here to drown? Her heart gave an uneasy thud. But the hand was too small to be human, and the fingers had little webs between them.

No you don’t!
She needed to take another breath. But if she went back to the surface now,
she’d lose sight of the sword. She gritted her teeth. Pulling herself under the rock, she swam into the tunnel after her disappearing prize.

She could see nothing beyond the hand that had taken it. Something cold and scaly brushed her cheek. Rhianna shuddered, but forced herself to keep swimming. Her lungs began to hurt. Little flashes of light stabbed her eyes. What if she got stuck in the tunnel and drowned down here? Suddenly, leaving the knights in an enchanted sleep didn’t seem such a good idea. But they probably couldn’t swim anyway, not with all the armour they wore under their cloaks.

She resisted a crazy urge to giggle and realised she could see again. The tunnel had ended in a large underwater cavern where blue and green glitters danced in the water. She swam upwards with the last of her strength, and her
head broke the surface. She gulped lungfuls of air. Treading water, she wiped wet hair from her eyes and blinked around in amazement.

At first she thought she’d found a way back to Lord Avallach’s palace. The colours flashed and danced in the same way. But instead of a crystal dome, rock arched overhead glittering with coloured jewels. The light came from glowing sea anemones that waved feathery tendrils from the cavern walls. A little beach sloped up to a cave with strings of shells hung at the entrance. The thief who had taken her father’s sword sat on a rock at the water’s edge staring at Rhianna with interest.

Rhianna couldn’t help staring back. She knew it wasn’t polite, but she had never seen a lady with a fish’s tail before, not even in Avalon. Except for the webs between her fingers, the
fish-lady seemed human enough from the waist up. She had shimmering green hair that wrapped her pale body like a cloak. From the waist down, she had a beautiful tail crusted with jewels like the rock. She wore a necklace of pink shells, and more shells dangled from her ears. Excalibur rested across her lap, the white jewel on its hilt shining more brightly than ever.

Rhianna swam cautiously to the beach, wondering if she could snatch the sword and dive back through the tunnel before the
fishlady
caught her. But the webbed fingers curled possessively around the hilt, as if she had guessed Rhianna’s thoughts.

The turquoise eyes sparkled with amusement as she spoke. “I didn’t expect a girl. You must have unusually good lungs to make it through the tunnel.”

“You made it through,” Rhianna pointed out, having finally caught her breath. “What are you doing with that sword? It belongs to King Arthur.”

“Not any more,” said the fish-lady. “It was offered to me after his death, as all warriors offer their most powerful weapons to the spirits of the water. I am the lady of this lake, whom men call Nimue. And you are…?”

“King Arthur’s daughter,” Rhianna said, finally remembering her manners. “Rhianna Pendragon. But my father’s not dead yet. The knight who threw the sword away made a mistake. I’ve come to fetch it back for him.”

“Rhianna Pendragon,” the fish-lady repeated, and the name sang around the cavern, making the anemones flare brightly. “Hmm. A damsel with a warrior’s name. You have the smell of
Avalon on you, it’s true, but no extra fingers. No tail either, I see,” she observed, as Rhianna squeezed the water from her hair.

“Of course I haven’t got a tail!” Rhianna said. “I’m human. And I need that sword so we can take it back to Avalon for my father as soon as Merlin shows up again.”

“Ah…” The lady’s turquoise eyes went distant. “Dear old Merlin. Strange, I can’t see him. How is he?”

“He got lost in the mists coming over from Avalon. That’s why he’s not here with me now. Something went wrong. There was a dragon and I think it’s following us, but my father’s ghost showed me the way…” She frowned, still not quite sure of what she’d seen. “I haven’t time to talk, I’m afraid. We’re supposed to be meeting Merlin at Camelot. Please can I have the sword,
Lady Nimue? I’ve got Pendragon blood so it won’t harm me.”

She bit her lip.
Hopefully not, anyway
.

Nimue laughed, a tinkling laugh that made the anemones flare again. “You might find it harder than you think to take the Sword of Light back to Avalon. Its magic has been tainted by its use here in the world of men. Merlin ought to realise that. I wonder what he’s up to bringing you here to look for it, an untrained damsel… A dragon, did you say?”

Rhianna flushed. “I’ll fight the dragon if I have to!” she said. “I’m not afraid.”

The fish-lady sobered. “I didn’t think you were, Rhianna Pendragon,” she said. “I can tell you’re not the sort of girl to scare easily. Not many humans would have swum through that tunnel after me without a single breath of
air in their body. You can’t even breathe underwater like me, can you?” She lifted her green hair, and with a start Rhianna saw three little flaps of skin flutter on her neck… gills, like a fish.

She shook her head, feeling a bit queasy.

“No, you’re human enough,” Nimue continued. “I believe you might even have Pendragon blood, as you claim. And you’re certainly brave enough. But do you really mean to take Excalibur back to your father in Avalon, or are you just trying to get hold of the sword for your own purposes? This blade was forged by non-human hands. The hilt is strong in spirit magic. Do you think you can control it? Or will it turn on you as it turns on its enemies?” She stroked the glimmering jewel with her webbed fingers.

“I don’t tell lies!” Rhianna said. “And I grew up in Avalon, so I think I can handle a magic blade.”

“Oh you do, do you?” Nimue gave her an amused look. “Even your father had a struggle with it at first. Merlin had to sheathe its blade in stone before young Arthur could lay his hands safely on the hilt. Hmm. You’re human and will die if you lose your soul, so I think I’d better give you a test to make sure.”

She rested the sword’s glittering tip against the rock. Rhianna stiffened. Did Nimue mean her to pull it out of the stone, like her father had done? Elphin might be able to sing it out for her, but he’d never make it through that underwater tunnel. She felt dizzy after holding her breath for so long, and her wrist was still cold where Mordred’s gauntlet had gripped it. But she
flexed her shoulders. She’d just have to grab Excalibur and swim as fast as she could. She’d be all right once she was back in Alba’s saddle.

Nimue smiled again. “Don’t look so worried, Rhianna Pendragon. You’ve already proved your strength by following me through the tunnel. Your test will be of the spirit. If you can answer four riddles, then you can take your father’s sword back with you into the world of men. Ready?”

Rhianna eyed the blade. It seemed she had no choice. She raised her chin and met the
fishlady
’s gaze. She nodded.

“What is the name of the Sword of Light?” asked Nimue.

Rhianna smiled. Easy one. “Excalibur!” she said.

The anemones flared blue in approval, and
Nimue immediately asked her second riddle: “Who carries the Lance of Truth?”

Rhianna hesitated. She remembered Merlin speaking of the four Lights back in Lord Avallach’s hall. But she had been seeing Mordred’s axe coming down on her father’s head at the time and not really paying attention.
The Lance of Truth made by the hands of men.
Merlin had told them it was broken, but she was pretty sure the druid hadn’t mentioned who carried it.

“Er… a knight?” she guessed, hoping the fish-lady wouldn’t want someone’s name. The anemones flared again, less brightly.

Nimue’s eyes narrowed. “Good enough for now, I suppose. I have a feeling the Lance will change hands soon, anyway, now it’s been broken. What is the secret of the Crown of Dreams?”

“The jewel of Annwn,” Rhianna said, more confident now. Another flare of light rippled around the underwater cavern.

“And what does the Grail contain?”

Rhianna closed her eyes, dizzy again. There had been another question: Who commands the Grail? But that wasn’t what Nimue wanted to know. She tried to remember the exact words of Merlin’s song. “Stars…?” she ventured, then shook her head. No, that wasn’t right. ‘Said’ to hold all the stars in Heaven. There had been no picture of the Grail in Lord Avallach’s walls. No one knew, not even Merlin.

“I don’t know,” she said in the end, bowing her head. She had failed. Now she would have to snatch the sword and hope the fish-lady didn’t catch her in the tunnel.

Nimue gave a long sigh. She regarded
Rhianna thoughtfully over the shimmering blade. “You pass the test.”

Rhianna glanced up, surprised.

“You’ve the same mixture of innocence and bravery Arthur had as a boy.” Nimue smiled. “The Grail reveals itself in its own time. The Sword of Light will give you quite enough to think about for now. Do you know why it was returned to me here, and not taken to Avalon with King Arthur’s body?”

Rhianna frowned at her use of the word ‘body’. “Sir Bors said he threw it into your lake because it was my father’s dying wish.”

“Exactly. Arthur told his knights to return it to me because the blade had been blooded. He knew it could not return to Avalon while Mordred’s blood stained it.”

Rhianna froze. “Then I can’t take the sword
back for my father, after all… Merlin lied to me!”

Nimue shook her hair, and turquoise drops showered around them. “Merlin is a druid. He does not lie. He just twists the truth sometimes to suit his purposes. I’m not sure why he brought you here to collect Excalibur when I’d have given it to him, had he asked me nicely enough. But no doubt he has his reasons. I can’t do much about the hilt I’m afraid, but I have cleansed the blade. Though if you want to take it back to Avalon to help your father, you must not allow a single drop of blood to dim its light.” She smiled at Rhianna’s expression. “Ah, I see Merlin forgot to tell you that, too? Perhaps he thought you’d never use the sword in anger, anyway, seeing as you’re a girl.”

“But—” Rhianna began, and bit her lip.
She had been going to ask what use a sword would be that could not be blooded. But, of course, it could be blooded. King Arthur had used it against his enemies. Not if she wanted to take it back to Avalon, though, where blood broke enchantments. That made sense, she supposed. She thought of her dream at the stone circle.
Do not try to use the sword
. Was that what Merlin had meant – do not blood it?

Very faintly, they heard music in the rippling air. The fish-lady gazed intently at the cavern wall. She held out Excalibur, hilt first. “You must go quickly now. Your friend needs you.”

Rhianna eyed the white jewel, remembering Nimue’s warning about the spirit magic, and what Cai had said about Excalibur feeding on souls. Well, if it did eat her soul then at least she wouldn’t end up in Annwn. She took a quick
breath and grasped Excalibur firmly with her left hand. The hilt fitted comfortably in her palm and the anemones gave a rustling sigh, as if an invisible audience approved. As Nimue let go, the blade glimmered and warmth flowed up her arm. The numbness in her wrist vanished.

She lifted the sword curiously and tried a couple of cuts through the rippling air. It was light in her grip, completely different from Sir Bors’ clumsy blade. She could manage it easily with one hand. It made her feel like dancing. She laughed and twirled up the beach, slicing at invisible enemies and trailing ribbons of silver light.