CHAPTER THREE

THE ORKNEY KNIGHTS

Ector de Maris

Our story finds Locksley, Grummer, and The Boys, stumbling upon Ector deMaris, half-brother of Sir Lancelot, sleeping in his pavilion deep in the woods. He says he is searching for Lancelot, who has left Camelot with his nephew, Sir Lionel. But first, they decide to make a stop…

CHAPTER THREE

THE ORKNEY KNIGHTS

Grummer pushed the door open with his shoulder, stepping into the room with the staff pounding on the wooden floor with each step he took. He leaned on the staff, trying to look relaxed, and then laughed as he leaned the staff against the wall behind him.

“Well, damn me for the dame I am!” the large woman of the house called out as she made her way down a steep flight of narrow stairs. She was holding one hand out against the wall, as if she was balancing herself on a rope in the circus.

“Ellsbeth!” Grummer called out to her, his arms thrown wide. She moved her enormous girth in close to him, rubbing her crotch against him seductively as he folded his arms around her.

“G-G-G-Rummmmmer!” she screamed at him. “What’s all that banging about you’re doing, you old fool? I came because I heard your voice outside. I don’t get around as easily as I used to. It was the crutching about that gave me a fright. I was thinking you’d lost your leg.”

“Ah, Bessy! I din’t mean t’ give ye nae fright. I’se jest teasin’ Ector with it, ‘im callin’ me an old man, now.”

“Why? Is that something you’re going to deny?” Ector laughed.

“I canna now then, can I? Nae so with Geoffrey carvin’ me a walkin’ stick good enow t’ riot with!” He laughed, and then reaching back, brandished the weapon over his head as if in victory.

Ellsbeth reached out for the staff, putting her hand around the knob of the stick.

“And it’s a stick to do you justice, if memory serves,” she cried out, and Grummer laughed again.

“Maybe ye’re in need of a mem’ry jog?” Grummer smiled. “After all, the bigger the cushion, the better the pushin’.”

“You had your time of dancing with me, old man!” she laughed, slapping his chest as she stepped away. “This could’ve all been yours. Imagine the life you could’ve had. The proprietor of the biggest brothel between here and whatever lies Beyond-the-Wall. I don’t ask just anyone to join me,” she smiled as she stepped up to Locksley and put her hand on his crotch.

“You boys and your chain,” she said, stepping away from Locksley, laughing.

“Only let me get this off an’ see if ye call me a boy then,” Locksley said, and Ector almost choked on the ale he was drinking.

Grummer slapped the boy on the back.

“A lad of me own takin’!”

“An’ isn’t that a fright’nin’ thought,” Geoffrey laughed, coming in through the door.

“Ellsbeth! What say we get the boy someone ‘e can prove his prowess to?” Grummer said, reaching out and grasping the woman’s ample bottom, much to her delight.

“Girls!” she called up from the bottom of the stairs, and turning, leaned against the wall. “I’ve got me some new girls since the last time you were here.”

“New ones? Now why’d ye go an’ do somethin’ like that? A man gets so that ‘e finds comfort with a whore,” Grummer said.

“And isn’t that exactly what the problem always ends up being?” she said, pretending to be angry.

“An’ what’s that?” Grummer asked. “Are ye gonna blame me for somethin’ I wasn’t here t’ do?”

“The men from hereabouts all fall for the girls at one time, or another. They end up promisin’ these girls the world. They want to leave with them and start life all over. The problem is, the girls get so they believe ‘em, and the next thing you know, they’re spreading their legs for them, and them alone. They weren’t making me money. What good are they to me then, I say? So, I’ve had to go out and recruit more, now that Roger’s dead and gone, and start this business all over again, until the next dumb farm boy comes along and thinks he’s fallen in love.”

“And what’s that about Roger?” Grummer asked. “The boy said as much outside.”

“Roger was a cheat and a thief.”

“An’ what of it?” Grummer asked.

“And I killed him, as befit him,” she said with a cold stare.

“Aye. That I ken with ye,” Grummer said with a slow nod.

The six girls of the house came racing down the stairs with giggles, screams, and laughter. They all came down in various states of undress. (Three of the girls were busy retying the fronts of their tops because their breasts had spilled out in the mad dash down the stairs.) They were all barefoot, the heels of their feet stained with dirt. Their hair was all messed up too, each one of them, and Grummer grinned when he saw three of the girls eyeing up Locksley and running a hand over their hair a time or two.

“I’m thinkin’ it’s the boy what should go first,” Grummer said after some thought.

“An’ why would ye be thinkin’ that?” Geoffrey asked.

“Because it’ll take him that long just to climb the stairs with that new stick you made him,” Ector laughed.

“Two, girls! He should have two girls!” Grummer said.

“What!” Ector called out.

“An’ have ye forgotten when ye were first made a knight? How many houses ye stopped off at on yer way ‘ere? An’ how many times did they tell ye t’ go first?”

“But that’s not a real thing,” Ector said.

“Who says it’s not? Lance? Aye, ‘e’s not one for leadin’ by example, now then, is ‘e? Ye’ll want Lam, or even Gawain, fer that.”

“I’m not about to argue with you. If I did that, no one’d get any time upstairs. If you say the boy goes first, fine, the boy goes first.”

“An’ two girls.”

“Don’t tell me you were serious when you said that?” Ector said.

“I ne’er make demands in a whore house I’m nae prepared t’ meet,” Grummer smiled.

“There’s only six of them to begin with.”

“An’ that leaves four for us. Did ye nae listen the day they taught ye numbers, an’ countin’?”

“You’re a very funny man. Did you know that?”

“I have heard it noised about some,” Grummer nodded.

  *

Sir Grummer

Grummer heard the sound of horses approaching and walked to look out of the dirty window — no more than a piece of mica held in place by two sticks of wood hammered into the sill on top, and one on the bottom. He couldn’t see enough to know who it was, only that there were about four or five knights, as well as their outriders.

“I canna see if it be friend, or foe,” Grummer said quickly, picking up Ector’s scabbard and tossing it to him. He snatched the handle of his own sword, undoing the leather strap and waiting for the door to open.

“We have to think it’s no friend,” Ector said slowly, melting into the shadows as best he could.

Grummer looked up the stairs. He heard the door crack open.

“Aye, lad? Have ye nae started up yet?” Grummer asked with a laugh, creeping up the stairs. He stopped on the landing and leaned his sword against the wall as he looked out of the casement into the courtyard below.

“I’ve nae yet got my kit clear,” Locksley laughed.

“Ye take yer time an’ doan worry none for us. There’s plenty o’ time for all of us,” he added, looking at the rope Ellsbeth had nailed to the outside of every door. It was meant for unruly guests; she need only lure them into the room and have it tied closed from the outside. 

Grummer ran up the stairs and tied the door tight.

“Hey! What’re ye doin’?” Locksley called out.

“Stay quiet,” Grummer said through the door. “I’m afeared there may be trouble.”

“I can help!” Locksley called out.

“Yer unarmed an’ naked. There’s little ye can do but avenge us, an ye must,” Grummer said, bounding down the stairs again. He grabbed his sword, waiting as the door opened, the light a bright bar across the entryway.

“Grummer? Is that yerself?”

“Aye. State yer name.”

“Agravaine.”

“Aggy? An’ what makes ye think I’d be wanting to see the likes of yerself, then?”

“And what of me, then?” Le Breunis Sans Pité, said with a laugh, stepping around Agravaine and attempting to draw his broadsword.

“Not under my roof!” Ellsbeth screamed — one syllable at a time — her voice getting progressively louder with each step down the stairs. “I mean it! Get out! I’ll not have you coming into my establishment, and breaking it to a shambles because you won’t share the girls! I won’t allow it! Do you hear me! Now, get out!” she screamed, pointing at the door. “Out! I’ll have no blood spilled in my house! If you want to fight? If you want to bleed? If you want to die?” she added. “Go and bleed in the dirt outside like the rest of the common rabble! Now!” she added, standing in the centre of the room.

“We’ve nae come this far t’ pummel our way in,” Agravaine laughed. “But I’ll nae have the likes of yerself screamin’ all bloody murder at me, just the same,” he added, and drawing his sword ran three feet of steel through her. She gasped, falling back against the wall and sliding down to the floor, a bloody streak on the wall behind her. The girls screamed in witness.

“Ye bastard!” Grummer screamed out, swinging his sword at Agravaine as the large man recovered his balance and blocked the blade before it took his head off.

Grummer made a mad dash at Agravaine, leaving Sans Pité to Ector. He knew he’d have no better chance at killing the bastard than while Aggy was caught in the doorway. Suddenly, a cloth bag was slipped over his head from behind. His feet were kicked out from under him, and his hands bound behind his back while a knee pressed into his back.

He’d meant to scream out a warning, but there was a punch to his midriff the moment the bag was slipped over his head. He felt himself falling, folding, doubling-over and gasping for air as he sensed himself being tossed into the back of a wagon.

In a moment, Ector was thrown into the wagon with him.

“Grummer? Grummer!” Ector called out.

“Aye lad, I’m with ye,“ Grummer said, trying to catch his breath. “Caught me unawares on that one, they did,” he added.

“Where are you taking us?” Ector demanded, getting up on his knees.

“They’re not taking you anywhere,” Sir Turquine said, in front of them. “I am.” “You? Why?” Grummer asked. “Why any of this? Aggy? Aggy! What’re ye’s up t’ here? This makes nae sense. We’ve done nae more than meet up with Ector — Lancelot’s brother, if ye recall?”

“I think ye mean t’ say half-brother, if ye were t’ properly recall? Anyway, it’s nae yerselves we’re wantin’ to see,” Gaheris said, stepping out of the darkness of the stables and into the light. He was the third eldest of the Orkney clan. Not as large a man as Gawain was by height, and nowhere near as wide as Agravaine, but Gaheris was the brains of the brothers — as long as they were only thinking three or four steps ahead of the game. Grummer doubted if Gaheris could properly imagine what the endgame should be; not properly. He had ambition — it was hard to deny that — but they were minor ambitions according to a properly ambitious man. And among the Orkneys, the only one who could lay claim to any sort of ambition was Modred.

“We could kill them and burn their bodies with the others,” a second voice said. “What others?” Grummer asked, trying to think of why the voice sounded familiar.

“The whores, of course.”

“Yer gonna kill ‘em? For what reason?”

“How ‘bout that they know us?” Gaheris mocked him. “Can ye nae figure that much fer yerself?”

“Anybody who comes across this scene’ll know it’s yerselves,” Grummer said, and sensed Ector looking at him.

“And how do you imagine that?” Ector called out.

“Well, there’s the stench of ‘em, fer one thing,” Grummore said with a smile behind the hood.

There was silence for a moment, and then Ector laughed.

“Is it incitin’ me an’ my brothers yer meanin’ t’ do, then?” the second voice said. “Modred,” Ector said in a hush.

“An’ who’s that?” Grummer called out, hearing Ector’s whispered warning at the sound of the voice. “Is that the youngest of yer whelp, Harry? Is that who that is? Is there Nae man left at home now t’ suck on yer mommy’s tit? Or be it that where Gawain is?”

“He’s not Lot’s lot,” Ector mocked.

“Ye mean…he’s the bastard everyone’s been noisyin’ about?”

“Aye.”

“Och!” Grummer laughed. “From what I wot well of Lot’s lot, half of ‘em aren’t ‘is lot t’ begin with!”

“Mock us all ye want, fer what good it’ll do ye,” Gaheris laughed. “Yer still leavin’ with Sir Turquine. D’ye know what that means? Oh, did we forget t’ tell ye that part? T’ be honest, we haven’t e’en asked ‘im what ‘e did with the last batch of knights we snared for ‘im. He doan really have a dungeon there, from what I’ve seen. ‘E throws ever’one into the same pit, an’ then throws in a tray of food later. It’s a matter of first come, first served. Later it’s kill, or be killed. Ye see, ‘e never throws the food in at the same time, either. Ye’ll make enemies just tryin’ t’ stay alive.”

“Is that why we’re bound an’ hidden?”

“Bound ye may be, but yer not hidden. Not in the cart ye’re in. Of course, anyone what sees ye in this car’ll know exactly what it’s for,” Gaheris laughed. “Ye two are the only ones’ who doan know what yer in.”

“An’ what’s that?”

“It’s the leper cart.”

The INN OF THE RED LION