Chapter 24
“Good shot, Brynn!” Darin’s shout rang out across the meadow and echoed from the walls of Camelot.
“It wasn’t just luck, either,” answered Brynn, letting his bow-arm drop and regarding the target with satisfaction. “I’ve been getting steadily closer to the mark all morning!” He ran a hand through his mop of red hair. “When Broderic hears about this, he’ll make me his squire right away.”
“Oh, come on, Brynn, you know he can’t do that yet. In two years time he’ll be lord of the castle and all the lands his uncle is holding in trust for him. Then he can take you on. Be patient. You are only twelve, after all.”
“And you were only fourteen when King Arthur made you a knight. You never even had any training as a squire.”
Darin laughed. “The king got a bit carried away that day, that’s all. He was so overjoyed at seeing my father again.”
Brynn ran over to the target to gather up their arrows. As he was bringing them back, he caught sight of his sister hurrying across the meadow in their direction; she was wearing a pale green gown over a yellow kirtle and her hair was ablaze in the rich autumn sunlight. “Here comes Shayla—she probably wants to shoot a few arrows to show she’s as good as we are.”
Darin turned quickly; Brynn could read the eagerness in his eyes.
“She has no bow with her,” Darin said. “And she would never turn up for archery practice wearing those sleeves.”
Shayla waved excitedly. Darin and Brynn started out to meet her.
“Darin!” she cried as they drew closer. “Broderic wants to see you right away! He says it can’t wait.”
“What’s the rush?”
Shayla was out of breath when she reached them. “I don’t rightly know. He’s been talking with the King. It seems there’s something important the two of you must do. He’s waiting for you at his lodgings.”
“Let’s go then!” said Darin, and the trio set off towards the city gates.
“Shayla, you must come riding with me in the forest later,” Darin said. “The autumn leaves are so beautiful. They’ll make the perfect background for that lovely copper-coloured head of yours.”
Brynn winced at this clumsy compliment. He could never understand how Darin, whom he admired so much in other respects, could be so embarrassingly idiotic when his sister was around.
Darin’s words did not seem to embarrass Shayla, however. “Maybe I shall. But what will you do when spring comes along, I wonder? Go looking for a damsel with green hair?”
“Why, no,” Darin replied. “The green of your eyes will serve very well.”
Brynn groaned. This was getting worse. “There’s never been anyone with green hair,” he mumbled.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” retorted his sister. “What about the Green Knight?”
Brynn wrinkled his brow. “Oh, him! I heard the story once, about him wanting to chop Sir Gawain’s head off. I don’t remember it all.”
“You must ask Broderic about it sometime,” Darin said. “He tells it better than anyone. With a few strains from his harp thrown in for good measure.”
Mention of his hero made Brynn impatient to be gone. “I’ll meet you at Broderic’s, then,” he called out, breaking into a run.
He found Broderic pacing up and down his room. Brynn sat down on the settle beside the unlit fire to get his breath back. “Darin’s on his way,” he said.
“Good.” Broderic continued his pacing. Although he was now completely recovered from his wound, he had not yet regained all his customary cheerfulness. Even so, Brynn had never seen him as serious as this.
It was not long before Darin and Shayla appeared at the door, laughing together.
“There you are!” Broderic exclaimed as they entered. “Listen, Darin, I have been talking with the king, and things are getting worse by the minute. Battle is imminent and it seems your old enemy, Morgan the Enchantress, is siding with the rebels!”
Brynn could tell by Shayla’s puzzled frown that she was as surprised at this as he was. Darin looked alarmed. “Broderic, you know—”
Broderic held up his hand. “It’s too late for secrecy now.”
Darin turned to Shayla. “I’m sorry, my love, but the king made all his knights swear to tell nobody. For some time now, it seems, rebel knights and barons have been siding with Sir Mordred against him.”
Shayla sat down on the settle next to Brynn. She gripped his hand. “Are we all in danger, then?”
Broderic shrugged. “The situation is serious, certainly. But Arthur will prevail.”
“The king called a council of war yesterday,” Darin said. “Broderic and I weren’t invited—we neither of us have men-at-arms under our command yet.”
Broderic slapped him on the back. “Well, King Arthur wants us now, my friend. He’s been talking with your father about that axe of yours. Have you made any progress?”
“Not much. Stella was going to ask her brother about it, but I haven’t been able to find her. My father thinks it must have been taken out of Logres and that it probably has some kind of magic powers. But that’s just speculation.”
Brynn suddenly remembered the ancient sailor who used to tell stories back in his old home by the sea. He sat up straight. “Wait a minute. Did you say a magic axe? Maybe I know where it is!”
Everyone looked at him in surprise.
“When father was alive and we still lived in Kingshaven, I used to hang around the harbour listening to the sailors’ yarns. There was one story—about a magic axe in the realm of Sultan Al-Din.”
“What did they say about it?” asked Darin quickly.
“The sultan used it to try prisoners. Bert’s axe or something.”
“Bertilak’s axe?”
“Something like that.” Brynn thought hard. The old sailor, lean and tanned, had held up a stump bound in tarred cloth to show his spellbound audience where his hand had once been. “The axe would know if a man was guilty when he tried to pick it up. It would come alive and punish him, all by itself—chop off his hand, for stealing. It was huge, with a green handle and studded all over with green gems.”
Darin smacked himself on the forehead. “The Green Knight’s axe—and you’ve known about it all along. Brynn, that’s wonderful!”
“The Green Knight again! Will someone please tell me about him?”
“His name was Bertilak,” Broderic explained. “He was ruler of a wild, mountainous land and he was a great enchanter. Normally, he appeared as a jovial lord, as red-haired as you or Shayla, but sometimes he took the form of a gigantic knight, green from head to foot, carrying an enormous battle-axe.”
“Was even his hair green?” Brynn asked, glancing at his sister.
“Hair, beard, face, everything.”
“Stella is convinced the axe will give us some sort of power over Morgan,” Darin said. “Come on, Broderic, let’s go find the king.”
“Good,” Broderic said. “From what your father told him he already realized we might have to cross the sea. He’s promised us his royal seal and as much gold as we could need to take ship from Kingshaven.”
Brynn jumped to his feet. “Take me with you! I know a lot about ships and the sea—and I’ve always dreamed of seeing Sultan Al-Din’s land.”
Broderic’s hand was already on the door. He turned. “No, lad. You’re too young. We can’t be worrying about you the whole time.”
“But I know how to use the bow now. Ask Darin!”
“Broderic’s right, Brynn,” Darin said. “You stay here and look after your sister.”
When the two young knights were gone, Brynn and Shayla stared at one another. “I’m going to help them, whether they like it or not,” Brynn said. “If you will let me take your palfrey, I’ll ride down to Kingshaven right now and get there first. I’ll find the best ship for them.”
“Will mother let you go, do you think?”
“Yes. Uncle Cuthbert has been asking when I will go down
there to visit again. Cousin John and I always have such a good time together. I’ll tell her Broderic’s going away and this is the perfect opportunity.”
“It’s a long ride.”
“I know the way and I’m old enough to do it alone. The king’s highway is safe these days. She knows that.”
Shayla bit her fingernail. “After what we’ve just heard I don’t know if any of us is safe anymore. But we won’t mention that—there’s no point in frightening her yet.”
“Come on, then. You can help me persuade her. And I can keep an eye on your Darin for you.”
Shayla smiled, but Brynn could see the effort it was costing her not to cry instead.
When they got home, they found their mother sitting at her worktable, needle in hand. She raised no objection when Brynn made his request.
“He can borrow my horse,” Shayla told her. Brynn was relieved; she was hiding her anxiety so successfully.
His mother laid her work aside. “Very well. But must you go immediately?”
“Yes, yes!”
She laughed. “Always in a hurry! You’re well enough dressed for the journey, I suppose, so put some bread and cheese in your satchel, fill your water bottle, and get a blanket to take with you.”
When this was accomplished, she gave him a penny. “This is for the inn keeper, for one night’s lodgings. You know you won’t reach your uncle’s before tomorrow. Do you remember the inn?”
“Oh, yes! I’ve been there more times than you have! And the keeper still knows who I am.”
Brynn was used to Shayla’s horse, a spirited young mare; soon he was galloping in style along the highway. A light north wind was blowing, with the first hint of winter on its breath. Perfect to fill the sail for a voyage to the warm south, Brynn thought. If only I could go with them, adventuring in the sun whilst everyone back home was huddling away from the cold!
He reached the inn by late afternoon, but kept on riding. Soon he would come to a shortcut he remembered through the woods. His plan was to keep on going until he arrived at the point where the forest track rejoined the king’s highway, halfway between the inn and his destination. There was a deserted barn there; he and John had found it when they were out exploring together on his last visit. He was sure he could be there by nightfall. Then he would sleep. The others would probably stop at the inn. He would easily be at the harbour before them.
In the twilight, the barn looked even more deserted and rundown than he remembered it. He went in and peered around. After tethering Shayla’s palfrey, he munched some bread and cheese and then settled down with his blanket on a heap of straw in the corner.