Enlighten (King Arthurs and Her Knights Book 5) (3 page)

He shook his head, smoothed his open, black robe, and made his exit from the hall. Whatever Britt wanted to discuss would wait, and dwelling on her would only borrow trouble.

Chapter 2

Boons and Fools

Britt fiddled with a buckle that stabbed her in the armpit. She was—for once—dressed in a full set of armor instead of wearing her typical few pieces—the cuirass to cover her chest, a plackart to reinforce it, faulds to cover her thighs, and a gorget to shield her throat.

She would have preferred to wear the lighter armor set, but today had been declared a day of contests in the practice arena, and Sir Bodwain had all but blackmailed her into trying her hand at a few jousting matches.

So far she had good luck. She’d ridden against three knights—all of them as green as grass—and tossed all three off their horses. After the three wins Britt made herself scarce from the jousting field, lest Sir Kay or Sir Bodwain decided to go up against her. (Both were nightmares to joust against.)

“Got it, thank you, Gareth. I’ll take Roen back,” Britt said, finally pushing the buckle into a comfortable position before she took the reins of her destrier. The black gelding swished his tail and nuzzled her when she affectionately patted his neck. “Are you two going to try your hand at archery?” Britt asked.

Gaheris shook his head. “We’re not knights.”

“So? Lem—Sir Tor’s squire, that is—entered the archery competition,” Britt said.

“We’re not even squires, though,” Gareth said.

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t an official tournament. Go try—it will be fun,” Britt said.

The Orkney princes exchanged looks before they nodded.

“As you wish, My Lord,” Gaheris said.

“We’ll make you proud, My Lord,” Gareth added, remembering to bow at the last second before he ran after his brother.

The brothers disappeared in the swirl of knights and ladies attending to the various games being held. Britt laughed in affection before she noticed Sir Bodwain purposefully scanning the crowd. Britt lost her laugh and hurried to put a tent between the knight and Roen—who stuck out like a sore thumb as he wore tack and equipment emblazoned with Britt’s personal symbol—a red dragon.

Britt peered around the tent, hoping to get a glimpse of the older knight to confirm he had moved on.

“Arthur, there you are. I was about to go look for you at the sword matches,” Merlin said directly behind her, making Britt jump.

“Merlin,” she said, holding a hand to her heart. “You haven’t seen Kay, have you?” she asked, looking suspiciously past him for her foster-brother.

“I left him at the jousting ring, looking for you,” Merlin wryly said. “I thought you would be hiding.”

“It doesn’t seem fair that he coddles me like a baby when it comes to my guards, but in jousting practice he acts as if he
wants
to bash my head in,” Britt complained.

“I’m sure he has his reasons. He probably believes he’s making you tougher, or some such nonsense. Raised by wolves, he was. What was it you wanted to talk to me about…two days ago, I think it was?”

“Right. I was wondering if we could fabricate some sort of quest for Lancelot to be sent off on,” Britt said.

“Arthur,” Merlin groaned, heaving his head back to look at the sky.

“It’s not what you think,” Britt was quick to say.

“I’m sure it’s exactly what I think: you’re still paranoid about Lancelot causing the downfall of Camelot. I thought my mentor’s talk with you banished your obsession with your modern day legend,” Merlin said.

“It’s not about Lancelot and Guinevere—at least not completely,” Britt said.

“Then what is it?”

“I feel like he’s…I don’t want to say stalking me, but…” Britt trailed off as Merlin looked at her with disbelief written across his face. “I feel like I’m a deer that he’s hunting,” Britt said, finally finding a sufficient metaphor that Merlin would understand. “He’s always near me—well, not always, but most of the time. Whenever I turn around, he’s there, asking for my opinion or boasting about one of his past quests. I would never be so deceived as to say he likes me, it’s more like he’s studying me, so he can learn how to catch me.”

When Britt looked at Merlin again the wizard had changed his expression to one that was more thoughtful.

“It makes me really uncomfortable and uneasy. I mean if he looks close enough he might…notice something,” Britt said.

Merlin nodded and thoughtfully narrowed his eyes. “I see your point. I have not noticed his presence near you, but I will watch for it.
If
I see that he does roam around you, we will consider what sort of quest he could be sent out on, but do not be deceived, Arthur. I will not dispatch King Ban’s son without good reason if he is not inclined to leave Camelot on his own.”

“Okay. Thanks, Merlin.”

“Of course, lass,” Merlin said, using the nickname he previously used frequently, but now hesitated to utter. Merlin opened his mouth to say something more, but his eyes focused on something behind Britt. “Sir Lancelot,” he greeted, courteously bowing his head to the young knight.

“Good afternoon, Merlin, My Lord,” the coal-haired knight said with a handsome smile. “I am here to see if My Lord would grant my request of seeking a jousting match against him.”

“What—you don’t want to try your luck with the sword, again?” Britt wryly asked.

In spite of her nettling words, Lancelot laughed. “No, My Lord. I have humbled myself enough to accept that you are a far better swordsman than I. I have hopes that my skill in jousting might redeem me, though.”

Britt glanced at Merlin to look for his reaction, but the wizard wore nothing but a polite smile. “It seems unnecessary to me,” Britt finally said. “I am fair at jousting, but certainly not skilled. If redemption is what you seek, I suggest you try to face Sir Kay or Sir Bodwain. They are our champion jousters.”

Lancelot laughed. “I don’t think I could ever beat them, My Lord. Come, let’s fight,” Lancelot said, placing a hand on Britt’s shoulder.

Britt shrugged Lancelot’s hand off, but reluctantly followed Lancelot to the jousting area—towing Roen behind her. Jousting against Lancelot was on the top of her list of things not to do, but if Merlin wanted proof of Lancelot’s strange actions, Britt would provide it.

In a much shorter time than she wished, Britt found herself mounted and on one end of the jousting field.

Britt rested her lance on her saddle and shifted, aware that Roen was tense with excitement and power.

When a page stepped into place and lifted a flag, Britt reluctantly raised her lance, spurring Roen forward when the page dropped the flag.

Britt charged towards Lancelot—who was mounted on a beautiful horse with a gold body and white mane and tail. She tensed up as she narrowed in on Lancelot’s shield, carefully aiming. When her lance hit his shield, Britt threw her weight into it. She gasped when Lancelot’s lance hit her. It was a strong blow, but Britt’s was clearly stronger as she threw the handsome knight against the back of his saddle, but didn’t manage to toss him from his horse.

“Good boy, Roen,” Britt panted as her horse adjusted his stride and turned around to head back to their end of the jousting lane.

Britt heard the page shouting that there was to be another run as more knights and ladies gathered to watch. Britt’s shield arm stung, but the pain was nothing compared to the numbing blows Sir Kay rained on her whenever they practiced.

“Maybe I can unseat him,” Britt murmured. “That was not a good blow. He really is an idiot,” Britt said, rolling her shoulder. When the page signaled to start, She forced her lance up, and heeled Roen forward like a shot.

Again, Britt concentrated on Lancelot’s shield. She felt Roen adjust his movements beneath her, his gait matching her balance.

Britt’s lance hit Lancelot’s shield and she pushed into her lance and down in the stirrups.
I have him
!

And then Lancelot’s blow hit her.

His lance hit her with such power he knocked her shield aside, the blow making her arm scream with hot pain.

He was holding back
, Britt realized in the moment she had before the force knocked her like a ragdoll. She slid off Roen—though the black gelding crow-hopped and tried to keep her on.

There was ringing in her ears as the crowd applauded for Lancelot’s win, and several knights ran up to her.

“Arthur,” Sir Kay said, plucking Britt’s helm from her head.

“I’m fine, just a little stunned,” Britt said, wincing as she tried to move her shield arm and found that she couldn’t.

“Did you know Lancelot could hit like that?” Sir Bodwain asked Sir Kay.

“No,” Sir Kay grimly said.

“I didn’t know it either, or I wouldn’t have let the match take place,” Sir Bodwain said, his gaze fastened on Lancelot, who was circling his horse in their direction.

“Does anything feel broken?” Kay asked Britt.

“I don’t think so. I feel like I was trampled by a bull, though. Help me up,” Britt ordered, holding out her good arm.

Sir Kay grunted as he helped Britt stand, taking most of her weight. “One thing is for sure,” Britt said, her teeth clenched with pain as she forced herself to smile for the audience’s sake. “I’m not doing that again.” She raised her arm in the air—making a few cheers break out of the crowd. The celebrators were mostly females—Britt could see—although some ladies shook their heads and watched with worry instead of applauding the handsome knight.

“Well fought, My Lord. You almost had me at the first round. You are truly gifted. If I was not so experienced, you might have unhorsed me,” Lancelot said, making his words loud enough for the crowd to hear him.

Reassured that their king had fought well, knights joined the ladies in clapping and cheering.

“I doubt that,” Britt said, moving to stand on her own. “But now I have fulfilled your request, and you have found your redemption. It was a good match, Sir Lancelot,” Britt said, turning to go.

“I have another request—if you will hear me out, My Lord,” Sir Lancelot said.

Britt groaned in my throat but Sir Bodwain shook his head. “Better hear him out, My Lord,” he whispered.

“What,” Britt finally said to the handsome knight, barely able to keep her tone even.

“As I have won a match against you, I ask for a boon.”

Britt forced herself to laugh and appear lighthearted. “You seem to be getting ahead of yourself, my knight. This was nothing but a practice match—I only hand out boons for tournaments and special times of celebration.”

“Yes, but we have not yet held a tournament since you were crowned,” Lancelot said as his palomino mount stomped a hoof. “I have not had many chances to win a boon—and I do not intend to ask for much.”

Britt held back a sigh. “What is your request?”

Lancelot smiled, making ladies in the crowd sigh. “I ask that you would grant me a morning of your time, and go hunting with me.”

Britt uneasily shifted at the odd request.

“It is not too much to ask for, is it?” Lancelot said. “You often ride out with your favorites—Sir Gawain, King Pellinore, Sir Kay, and a few others,” he said, neatly trapping her.

“How noble—he wishes to ride with his King,” a lady simpered.

“He is seeking a deep and honorable friendship,” a knight—one of the useless men King Leodegrance had sent with the Round Table—said as he wisely nodded.

Sir Kay was tense—aware of the slippery slope Britt was standing on—though Sir Bodwain seemed unbothered.

“I know you have little love of him, My Lord, but it would be best to agree. You can stand him for one ride, can’t you? Just ask to disregard the hunting part,” Sir Bodwain advised.

Britt stood up straighter and glanced at Sir Kay, hoping for additional guidance. The younger man shook his head and grimly looked at the hooves of Lancelot’s horse.

“Alas, I cannot hunt with you, Sir Lancelot. That would take more time than I fear I have. But I would be…
delighted
to ride with you,” Britt said, forcing the words from her mouth.

Lancelot smiled. “I look forward to it. Thank you for this honorable match, and for granting my humble request.”

“Yeah, sure. If you’ll excuse me,” Britt said, turning her back to the handsome knight. She smiled and nodded at the audience as she forced herself to stride from the field. Sir Kay followed her like a shadow, and Sir Bodwain—leading Roen—followed after.

“Let’s see Merlin try to bluff his way out of this evidence,” Britt growled as she headed for the stables.