THE SHIELD OF LOCKSLEY

Chapter 10 (con't)

The next morning Brennis came riding into the camp at a slow trot, a brace of partridges hanging from his saddle, and a three-fold brace of large rabbits. His breeches were stained with blood and dirt. The sun crested the trees, casting long shadows that played across the ever-lessening pools of water, shimmering as a cool breeze filtered through the shadows. He untied the game and dropped them to the ground, slipping his bow and quiver over his shoulder before climbing down from the saddle. He picked the carcasses up and walked to the small chopping block outside of Locksley pavilion where Vergil sat talking to Baudwin. He rested the bow and quiver of arrows against a small tree.

“We’ve got company coming,” he said.

“What company?” Vergil asked.

“The Queen.”

“What?” Baudwin asked, sitting up and looking toward Launcelot where the Knight sat outside his pavilion across the way, talking to Lamorak and Palomides. “Why is she here?”

“She’s looking for Launcelot.”

“That’s Sir Launcelot, to you,” Baudwin said.

“No, that’s Sir to you,” Brennis smiled.

“Perhaps I should teach you some manners?”

“You might try, but I doubt if you will,” Brennis said with a smile. He tossed the two partridges to Vergil.

“Do you?” Baudwin said, his anger getting the better of him. He was quick to get to his feet, his sword and dagger in his hands as he crossed the small campsite in four quick paces.

Brennis watched him, holding one of the rabbit’s in his hand. He waited until the man was as close enough, then brought the rabbit up from his side, hitting the Squire in the face with the full force of the rabbit’s weight. As Baudwin stumbled back, taken by complete surprise, Brennis kicked the man in the thigh as hard as he could, pulling his dagger out at the same time. Baudwin tried to step forward, but his leg gave out and he tumbled to the ground as Vergil laughed. Brennis was on top of the man, pinning him, his dagger pressed up under Baudwin’s chin.

“Still want to teach me some manners?”

Baudwin said nothing.

“You might want to think that over,” Brennis said, climbing off the man and sheathing his dagger. “And before you think of jumping me while I’ve got my back turned, I can get to the bow before you get to me. That leg isn’t going to hold you up for a while.”

“Brennis?” Locksley asked, stepping out of the pavilion. “What mischief are ye up to, lad?”

“The Queen is following,” he said.

“I heard. And Pellinore?”

“I suppose.”

“Which Queen is it?” Locksley asked.

“Which? How many are there?”

“Two. Isould an’ Tristram are ridin’ with ‘em.”

“I did not know that.”

“That’s why yer the Squire,” Locksley smiled, pulling his sword out of his scabbard and looking at the blade. He ran a thumb along the edge and nodded to himself as he crossed the campsite where Launcelot and Lamorak were talking to Palomides. He drove the sword into the ground and turned to look at Brennis. “If ye can find the time, lad. I’ve some nicks on the edge.”

“Is that part of my duties?”

“Yer duties be whate’er I tell ye,” Locksley added as he crossed the camp.

“Do you want to clean one of the rabbits?” Brennis said to Baudwin. “It’ll be faster.”

“Brennis says yer Da’ is on the trail,” Locksley said, sitting beside the small fire and settling himself in beside Palomides. The Immortals were cooking, the scent of food intoxicating. Locksley turned to look at what they were cooking.

“What is that?” he asked, looking at Palomides.

“Kusksi,” Palomides said.

“My Da?” Lamorak asked at the same time, and Locksley turned to look at him.

“Aye.” He looked at Palomides again. “And what is Kusksi?”

“Rolled up flour and water. It’s quite flavourful, and you can eat it with anything.”

“How does Brennis know it’s Pellinore?” Launcelot asked.

“We come on ‘em two days overmorn,” Locksley smiled, watching Mustafa the Immortal stirring the mixture with a large wooden spoon. “ ‘e was with the Queen,” he added.

“The Queen?” Launcelot said, looking up.

“Aye. Did I nae tell ye the Queen was scouring about for ye?”

“No. You forgot that part,” Launcelot said.

“It’s been a fright these last two days,” Locksley said, looking at the man.

“And why is Pellinore with her?”

“Makin’ ‘is way South—or was. To Camelot.”

“What do you mean, was?

“ ‘e’s been injured some.”

“Injured? How? And why did you not say anything before?”

“As I said tofore, things have been hectic.”

“Who is he traveling with?” Lamorak asked.

“Yer sister? An’ yer kinswoman?”

Lamorak sat back and nodded slowly. “They were ridin’ with Mark’s Queen last I hear; her, and her Knight.”

“What Queen?” Palomides asked.

“I wot not who,” Locksley said with a shrug. “She was nae there when we arrived.”

“And the Knight?” Palomides asked.

“A Cornish man? From Mark’s realm?”

“Tristram,” Palomides said.

“D’ye think it so?”

Mustafa said something in Persian, and the three Knights looked at Palomides. He smiled and turned to look at them.

“He says if it’s Tristram, maybe he’ll stand and fight this time.”

“You’d better hope for your sake that he doesn’t,” Lamorak said.

“Ye can’t be goin’ on about him. We have t’ secure Grummer an’ Ector before we do anything else,” Locksley said.

“And how do you propose to do that?” Lamorak asked.

“Well, I had been thinkin’ of enterin’ the castle Keep an’ freein’ them.”

“Just like that? Did you think Turquine was going to open the door when you knocked? Was that your plan?”

“Well, with the Queen on ‘er way, I was thinkin’ I might convince ‘er t’ send some of ‘er Knights out to do battle beside me,” Locksley said.

“You expect the Queen to send out her Honour Guard and help you free the prisoners?” Launcelot smiled.

“Why do ye have t’ say it like that?” Locksley asked.

“Say it like what?” Launcelot asked.

“I’d rather hoped yerself would stand endlong at my side.”

“Me?”

“Is Ector nae yer kin? Yer blood kin?” Locksley reminded him.

“That he is,” Launcelot replied.

“Is that nae good enow? Or do I have t’ pay for yer mastery?”

“Pay me? You don’t have enough gold to pay me for my services,” Launcelot laughed.

“I will. As soon as the Queen’s behest—”

“Her what? For God’s sake, man! Do you expect me to understand that clap-trap? Speak so as a man can understand,” Launcelot said.

“She’s offered right proper coinage to whiche’er of ‘er Knights finds ye,” Locksley pointed out.

“At her behest? She’s offered a reward for my safe return? Is that what you mean?”

“Aye. An’ I plan t’ claim it,” Locksley smiled.

Palomides laughed, slapping his thigh.

“Capitol!”

“Capitol?” Lamorak asked. “He’s not one of the Queen’s Guards. He cannot claim her behest, no matter what he thinks.” He turned to look at Locksley. “Listen, boy, that’s not how it works. The Queen only offers her so-called behest to her own Guards. All those Knights with her are members of the Queen’s Guard. The King has his Guards, and the Queen hers. The King’s Guards travel with him wherever he goes. Just as the Queen’s Guards go with her. Any reward—behest—she might offer, is only offered to them. Not you, Lance, or Palomides here.”

“Is this true?” Locksley asked, looking at Launcelot, who nodded.

“I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is. I’m sure Grummer would have told you the way things work—”

“Certes,” Locksley said. “ ’Twas his disadventure,” he said, standing up.

“Where are you going?” Lamorak asked.

“I shall hie out, anon—”

“You can’t leave!” Lamorak said.

“Turquin’s Keep is a day’s ride—”

“You can’t go alone,” Lamorak said.

“I shall go,” Palomides said. He called out to the Immortals as Locksley looked across the camp where Brennis sat in front of the fire, cooking the rabbits.

“Brennis! We ride!”