THE SHIELD OF LOCKSLEY

THE TOURNAMENT OF YOUTH

Welcome back, and I want to especially welcome…my new subscribers.

As of last week’s posting, I’ve picked up 19 new subscribers, for a total of 79 new followers. (There’s a difference between Subscribers & Followers. The Followers don’t get this posting for one thing, it goes out to email Subscribers only.) All the same, it brings my total number of subscribers and followers alike, up to 1739 as of this writing. I’ve been picking up followers in droves. I never imagined (well, okay, I did, but it was more of a fantasy number I’ll tell you later,) that I would actually have that many people reading my work, as well as my NOTES. Let me just tell you, as far I’m concerned, those are amazing numbers. 19 Subscribers in a week is a lot of subscribers for me, when you consider they can only read, or listen to, the one story I’m putting out for them. That’s my Stories, After Eight on Sunday mornings. w

This new reading is FREEDOM HOUSE, and we’re only two readings in.

I also want to stress to you, my Readers, that the most important part of my Substack will always be my FREE readings and stories on Sundays.

This is my PAYWALLED section, and I offer nothing extra to my subscribers. I give them a single chapter — per week — (or in this case, part) of my serial novel. Don’t get me wrong, this is a good series, without a doubt. The knights are older, and maybe there’s a little bit of rust on the ol’ chain mail, (from sleeping out in the rain.)

You know I’m going to ask you to up-grade, right?

And why wouldn’t I? I’ve decided, that once a story goes up behind the PAYWALL, it pretty well stays there. I’ll throw out a freebie once every ten or so chapters, but considering the last free one was either last week’s or the one before that, the next one won’t be until after Christmas.

The price for an up-grade is $30…Canadian. It works out to 8¢ a day.

I look at it like this: You feel that shouldn’t have to spend 8¢ a day, and I say why should I give it away for nothing? This is, after all, a business. I have 32 PAID subscribers. That’s a little over $50 a month, or $600 for the year. The whole idea of going paid in the first place, was to enable me to print up some of my novellas and mail them out to my PAID Peeps. They send me a postcard, I send them a book. It’s as simple as that. I had it figured out with $27.50x75, which is $2062.50 for the year. That’s how they work this out. That $172/month. It will take a year to save $2062.50

But…well…nobody wants to upgrade. I did have some money saved, but things got tight around here, and I had to spend it on some household repairs. (I did tell you I’m retired and have a limited income, didn’t I? Hey! Shit happens.)

Okay, I’ll tell you what my fantasy number was, or is: 1500 PAID Subscribers. That works out to $41,250 per year, which is $3437.50/month. I gave myself 10 years. After two years, I have 32 Paid. I need 183 PAID subscribers for each of the next eight years.

So now, back to the story, where Locksley finds a sword, and it has a name!

So now that we got all of that out of the way, I want you to know that I’m almost finished Part 4 and will be starting the last section of my book sooner, rather than later. (We’re also getting the bathroom redone, so things are a little hectic here.)

As you recall in last week’s blurb, Grummer pretty well forbids Locksley to have anything to do with Gwenellyn, whom he feels is below his station as the Prince of Ivanore. Lamorak, acting as regent in his father’s place, exclaims that Gwenellyn is, after all, a princess. It sort of opens the door as far as I can see…

But let’s see how it all plays out.

The Market at Camelot (Taken from Pinterest, and obviously AI)

CHAPTER 19

          iv    

  HIS SWORD

Locksley watched Lady Gwenellyn from behind a stone wall as the children sat around her in a tight circle, each one with their own garland of flowers they were weaving into small circlets, diadems, and petalled tiaras. She was laughing, being playful, and joyful, and at her ease. A smile danced across her lips and sparkled in her eyes; her cheeks were rose-hued, and her hair adorned with petals from the crowns the children placed on her head. Her laughter rang out in the close confines of the Royal Gardens. It was lyrical, and the first time he’d heard her laugh, Locksley realized; the sound of her laughter all but took his breath away.

The gurgling stream made its way down from the rock face and spilled through a bed of rocks that had been set into place years before. There were shrubs and short, stunted trees, where the sun broke through the branches and promenaded across the clamouring water like a dancer on a stage. Moss lay thick like a carpet and crept towards the moist rocks.

“What are you doing here?” a woman asked, coming up from behind. Locksley turned to look at her, startled for a moment, and then smiled.

“Lady Miriam,” he said, bowing his head. “I trust all’s well wit’ yer da? I mean, the king?” he added, the hint of a smile teasing his lips.

“No, all is not well with my father, the king,” she spat out at him. “It’s you, isn’t it? The Beggar’s Knave?”

“Sir Locksley,” he said, bowing his head again.

“All the same, what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I was nay told as much,” he said.

“I need only call out, and you’ll be cast into the king’s dungeons,” she said.

“Call out t’ whom?” he asked.

“Was there no guard standing at the door?”

“There was nay man standin’ guard, if by door ye mean gate?” he said slowly, looking about.

“These are the Royal Gardens, of course there’s a man standing at the gate,” she said, sounding petulant. “It’s what he does. He’s one of the Queen’s Guards.”

“As ye say, MiLady,” he smiled.

“Why would he not be there?” she asked.

“I canna say,” he replied, reaching down for the sword that was not there. He looked down at where his scabbard should have been. He reached for his knife.

“What is it you mean to do?” she asked.

“There’s naught t’ do, Lady,” he said, forcing a smile. “But I feel — an ye say there should be a Guard — I feel the need t’ prepare myself, an’ yet, find meself unarmed.”

“You shouldn’t be in here armed in the first place.”

“Aye, as well there should be a Guard, an’ is nay,” he said.

“One would think he was called away,” she said in explanation.

“A man on Guard doesna get called away,” he smiled.

“Then where is he?”

“I fear the worst.”

“The worst? The worst being what?”

“Betrayal.”

“Nonsense!” she said, and stepping out from behind the wall, stepped across the stream and made her way toward the Gate. Locksley was quick to follow, trying to force a smile when the children called out and Gwenellyn looked up at him. There was a curious furrowing of her brow, and a slight tilting of her head as she looked at him, and he cursed Lady Miriam for her foolish behaviour.

If there was no Guard, what did it matter to him? She was the one who said he was there, when he so obviously wan’t. She stopped at the Gate and turned to look at him. The Guard stepped out from the other side of the wall and looked at her.

“My Lady?”

“Did you allow this man entry?”

The Guard looked at Locksley and then looked at Lady Miriam again.

“Speak up man. Did you?”

The man looked at the ground and then looked up, slowly shaking his head.

“And how do you explain his presence?”

“I left my post,” he said after a moment.

“Do you know the penalty for leaving your post?”

“I’ve been ill.”

“Ill? Is that an excuse?”

The man shook his head and looked at Locksley.

“What is it? What’s happened?” Lady Gwenellyn asked, coming at a quick pace and followed by four of the more curious children. She turned around when they ran into her, giggling, and she gave them a stern look, silencing them.

“Sir Locksley?” she asked.

“Caught the man sneaking a peek through the Gardens,” Lady Miriam said before Locksley could offer a word of explanation.

“The Gardens are open to all,” Gwenellyn said, matter-of-factly.

“Not for men to spy on women,” Lady Miriam pointed out.

“Spy?” She looked at Locksley, who tried not to smile.

“He was behind the wall, watching you. Just walked right in. Didn’t see the Guard, because he, apparently, had left his post.”

“I was at the gambeson!” the man exclaimed, looking embarrassed as the children laughed. “There’s never anyone comes this way.”

“Well, there was today, wasn’t there? What if the Queen was here? Would you leave her untended? And yet, you see no need to stand guard for the sake of King Pellinore’s daughter?”

“It wasn’t that. Me guts were churning’, and, well,” he looked at Locksley briefly.

“Would ye have the poor man shit hisself?” Locksley asked with a laugh.

There was the sound of voices and Locksley turned, his knife still in his hand, as Grummer, Bedivere, and Lamorak appeared. They each of them stopped, looking up.

“Och, an’ ‘ere ‘e is,”Grummer said, trying to suppress his surprise at finding Locksley with the two women.

“Just the man to see,” Lady Miriam said, seeing her brother.

“I don’t like the way that sounds,” Bedivere laughed.

“It does sound rather daunting,” Lamorak said with a slow shake of his head. “Tell me sister, what is it this time?”

“I do not care for the tone of your question,” Lady Miriam said, trying her best to sound indignant.

“And are you thinking I should be more polite? I do apologize, to an extent,” he added.

“And what do you mean by that? To an extent?”

“Och, lass, will ye nay stop yer harpin’ ‘bout, when well ye know yer braer cares little fer yer complainin’ an’ carryin’on.”

“You can not let him speak to me like that,” Lady Miriam said to Lamorak.

“Like what?” Bedivere smiled.

“Do not think that you have a place to speak to me, Sir Bedivere.”

“I would never presume, Lady Miriam,” Bedivere said with a low bow of his head.

“Dear sister, you know my feelings toward Sir Grummer. There’s little I’ll say to him about his ill-mannered, Pagan ways. Our dear father holds him in high esteem, as well he does Sir Locksley, to whom we are all indebted to for having saved our father’s life as he did.”

“And how do feel having him skulk about, spying on our dear cousin?”

“Spyin’ is ‘e?” Grummer said, looking at Locksley.

“I’ll not hear anymore of this. We come to offer Sir Locksley a gift.”

“And what gift would that be?”

“l see nay need fer yer thinkin’ ye have a say o’er this,” Grummer said quickly.

“Brother?”

“You do have learn your place, dear sister.”

“My place?”

“Do you think the husband that takes you as his wife will allow you to talk with the freedom our father has shown you?”

“The gods spare the man what takes ye t’ wed,” Grummer laughed.

“Aye,” Lamorak laughed. “I’ve long thought that myself.”

“I refuse to be insulted by the likes of you,” she said to Grummer. “Or yourself, as well,” she said, looking at Lamorak. “Come along, Gwenellyn. Children?” she said, gathering her skirts and turning away.

“I thank you, good Sir Knight,” the Queen’s Guard said.

“Ye need nay t’ thank me,” Locksley said. “The fact remains, ye left yer post.”

“Would it suit you if I shit myself on Guard duty like a first time knight going into battle?”

Grummer laughed.

“Give the lad ‘is sword, an’ let’s be on our way,” Grummer added.

“What sword is that?” Locksley asked.

“Rimharfoir,” Bedivere said.

“Is that nay Pellinore’s sword?”

“Aye, t’is,” Grummer said. “An’ ye’ll sit it well ‘pon yer new ‘orse.”

“I’ve a new ‘orse?”

“And a right fine charger it is,” Lamorak stated. “I picked it myself out of my da’s own stable.”

I hope you liked it.

Next week, we’ll be moving on to Chapter 20…THE KNIGHT OF THE ROSE.

Leave a comment and tell me what you think.