CHAPTER SIX
HEARTS OF STEEL
And just like that we were standing on a grassy plain like a great green ocean. The sky was that perfect cloudless blue of high summer, the sun was bright and cheerful, and the air was heavy with birdsong and the buzz of insects. A cloud of vividly coloured butterflies swept past us like an assortment of flags from unknown nations. Amanda smiled about her with quiet satisfaction, as though she was responsible for all of it.
“Well,” I said. “This is more like it. Where are we?”
“Just a short walk from King Arthur’s Camelot,” said Amanda.
I stared at her. “As in the Knights of the Round Table? I love those stories!”
“Most people do. Because everyone wants to believe there was at least one time in history when might stood in support of right.”
I looked around me, taking in the glorious summer’s day. Everything seemed bursting with life and packed with promise: a whole world just waiting to be explored.
“This is how England used to be?” I said.
“For ages and ages.”
“What happened?”
“The secret masters.”
I fixed her with my best hard stare. “Are you ever going to tell me who they are? And why they did it?”
“Of course!”
“When?”
“When you’re ready.”
I considered saying several things, but didn’t. It was too nice a day for an argument.
“So, where’s Camelot?”
“This way. Shall we go?”
A huge castle stood tall and proud in the middle of a great open plain, approached by half a dozen different roads. As though it was the only place worth going to. The outer wall was a creamy white stone, with crenelated battlements and tall slit windows. Great towers rose up beyond the wall, shining brilliantly in the sunlight, capped with pointed roofs like slanting hats. Flags and pennants fluttered bravely, bearing designs I didn’t recognise but were still somehow familiar, as though I’d seen them before in dreams. A blocky stone keep thrust out from the front wall, its entrance left invitingly open. Crowds of people streamed in and out, and the guards on duty seemed perfectly happy to let them get on with it.
I stood and stared, drinking it all in. It was like finding out fairy stories were real after all. When I finally turned to Amanda her smile was full of quiet understanding.
“Camelot,” she said. “It really is everything the stories say.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Wherever we have to go, and whatever we have to do, this sight alone is enough to justify it.”
“That’s how Camelot affects everyone,” said Amanda. “It’s why people have never given up on King Arthur and his dream, despite everything the rewriting of history could do to make them forget.”
“And we can just . . . walk in there?”
“Camelot is for everyone. That’s the point.”
“What about the guards?” I said. “They’re bound to realise we’re not from around here.”
“The guards are only there to protect the castle from those who would threaten the dream,” said Amanda.
“Who’d want to threaten a place like this?” I said. Just the thought made me angry.
“Arthur believed that the whole point of being king was to protect the innocent from those who wanted to subjugate them. With an attitude like that, he was bound to make enemies.”
“Like who?”
Amanda sighed. “It never ceases to amaze me how many things humanity can find to fight over. Come on, let’s go and make ourselves known.”
“Don’t we need an invitation, or something?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure they’re expecting us,” said Amanda.
<scene break>
To get to the keep, we had to pass through a small village of tents and marquees that had sprung up outside, along with any number of stalls and booths offering everything from delicate glassware to candied treats to hand-tooled leather boots and gloves. Bargaining was loud and spirited, and equally enjoyed by both sides. The air was thick with rich and nourishing scents, and I would have liked to stop and sample some of the unfamiliar foods on offer, but Amanda linked her arm firmly through mine and kept me moving.
The narrow aisles were packed with people in medieval clothes, chattering loudly about anything and everything. It seemed like everyone had a smile on their face, and a cheerful greeting for all who passed by. Children raced back and forth, raising a racket and getting under everyone’s feet, but no one seemed to mind. Dogs ran around like mad things, chasing their own tails when there wasn’t anything better on offer, while miniature mammoths chirped happily as they tried to keep up. No one paid Amanda or me any particular attention as we strode through the crowd, except to nod and grin, as if to say Isn’t this marvellous? And I grinned and nodded back at them, because it really was. Until a thought occurred to me, and I turned to Amanda.
“Why are all these people outside the castle?” I said quietly. “Are they not allowed in because they’re trade, or commoners?”
“Stop thinking in terms of our history,” said Amanda. “Camelot is one big fortress, home to the Knights of the Round Table, and stuffed to bursting with the small army of people it takes to support them and their mission. These people came here of their own free will, to supply all the little luxuries the castle staff don’t have time for. Everyone wants to do their bit, for Camelot.”
“Are we really going to meet King Arthur? And his knights?”
“Of course,” said Amanda, smiling like an indulgent mother with an overexcited child.
“And Merlin?”
“Oh, he’ll be here.” Amanda’s mouth tightened in a way that was hard to read. “Try not to upset him, Jack. He has a very odd sense of humour.”
I took that under consideration. “Why have you brought me here?”
“Because you wanted to see something better.”
“Yes, and thank you. But what are we here for?”
“Camelot is the culmination of everything you saw in the original Londinium,” said Amanda. “All the peoples of Britain, human and magical, living together in one great society. And that enraged the secret masters. It meant they’d lost the argument, that humankind should be superior to all. They realised the only way to get rid of all the other creatures was to remove the magic that made their existence possible. This is where the rewriting of history was decided.”
I looked at the castle looming up before us. For all its fantastic architecture, it seemed very real and solid.
“So is Camelot history? Or legend?”
“This is history,” said Amanda. “But it will be reduced to legend. Arthur wasn’t supposed to be remembered at all, but Camelot mattered so much to people they simply refused to give it up. It lived on, in the dream of a history so much better than anything people were taught.”
“What about Mordred, and the fall of Camelot?”
“Never happened,” said Amanda. “Arthur’s son was a great hero, and the fall just another attempt to undermine the myth and destroy its power. The same with Sir Lancelot; all that nonsense about a love triangle was added to make those involved seem less admirable. Lancelot was the king’s closest friend, and Guinevere would have punched a hole through a wall with anyone who tried to get between her and Arthur. Camelot never fell, in the past that was. It was the inspiration for a Golden Age that should have lasted forever.”
“But if everything here is so great, why did Arthur need his knights?” I said. “Why build this great fortress?”
“Not all magical creatures were ready to accept humans as their equal,” said Amanda. “There’s a constant threat from dragons, ogres, and Dark elves. This is a Golden Age, Jack, not heaven on earth.”
We headed for the keep. The two guards on duty recognised Amanda immediately, snapped to attention and fired off salutes that positively quivered with enthusiasm. She nodded regally in return, and I gave the guards my best hard look, just to make it clear I was somebody too.
“You do get around, don’t you?” I said quietly to Amanda.
She grinned. “You have no idea.”
Beyond the keep lay a huge open courtyard brimming over with busily working people, most of whom broke off from whatever they were doing to stare at Amanda. She led me on through the sudden hush, and the crowd fell respectfully back to let us pass.
“Wherever you go, you do seem to make an impression,” I said.
“I have no idea why.”
“That makes you the only person who doesn’t.”
The clamour of hard work quickly resumed, and no one paid us any more attention. In a deliberate and watchful kind of way.
The cobbled square was covered with straw and mess and all kinds of animal droppings, and I was very careful where I put my feet. Horses bigger than most cars watched us intently from their stables. I supposed they had to be that big to carry knights in their armour, but the look in their eyes suggested they were fierce enough to win most battles on their own. Soldiers in battered mail practiced swordsmanship and archery, while others wrestled bare-chested in front of admiring spectators. Everywhere I looked it seemed like someone was busy sharpening blades on grindstones, or beating dents out of armour.
Just how many enemies did this Golden Age have?
Amanda plunged confidently through an opening in the far wall, and suddenly we were passing through broad corridors and wide-open plazas that were almost as crowded as the courtyard. People inside the castle had a more Shakespearean look: tights and doublets with ankle-length cloaks for the men, long sweeping dresses and high hats and wimples for the women. Styles and fashions that wouldn’t appear for another thousand years in the history that would replace them.
We also passed elves and dwarves, yetis and unicorns, and a whole bunch of magical creatures I couldn’t even put a name to. The Light elves were inhumanly graceful in their flashing silks and swirling capes, drifting through the corridors like dreams walking. The dwarves were square and solid with stone-grey skins, leather armour and red caps. Their arms bulged with so much muscle they probably didn’t need tools to mine their ore, just punched it out of the rock walls. The yetis were huge shambling creatures covered in thick white fur, so tall their heads bumped against the ceilings. They ambled along, smiling shyly at everyone, and being very apologetic when they accidentally stepped on someone. The unicorns, on the other hand, were proud and haughty creatures who expected everyone else to get the hell out of their way, and were perfectly happy to shoulder them aside if they didn’t move quickly enough. Everyone smiled on them indulgently, as though they were just fractious children.
Not entirely to my surprise every single magical creature we met recognised Amanda, and bowed their heads to her. She just smiled and kept going.
“This was Arthur’s dream,” she said. “That all who came here would be equal, and dedicated to protecting those in need. Camelot was a social experiment, to prove the various races could bring out the best in each other, and inspire one another to greatness. And Arthur was right. Camelot is a dream made real.”
“I don’t see any of the gods we met in Londinium,” I said.
“They moved on,” said Amanda. And something in the way she said that made it clear I shouldn’t ask where, or why.
A harried figure came bustling through the crowds to intercept us, glowering fiercely at one and all. They didn’t seem to take it personally. He was dressed more elegantly than everyone else put together, as though he’d put a lot of thought into how to look important. He had a thin body, a thin face, and very thin lips, and while he was careful to bow formally to Amanda, there was a definite grudging feel to it. She smiled graciously back at him.
“Jack, this is the seneschal. Arthur’s butler, basically. He likes to think he’s in charge here.”
“Somebody has to keep the wheels turning, so that things get done,” said the seneschal, in a sharp and fractious voice. “If you would care to follow me, Lady Amanda, the king has been anticipating your arrival for quite some time.”
“Hold it,” I said. “How did Arthur know we were coming?”
The seneschal condescended to look down his nose at me. There was a lot of nose to look down.
“The high sorcerer informed the king yesterday that you would be arriving today.”
“Merlin,” said Amanda. It was hard to tell whether she sounded more amused, or resigned.
“Quite,” said the seneschal.
He led us through wide corridors lined with marvellous hanging tapestries, and paintings so bright and vivid they might have been created just the day before. I would have liked to hang around long enough to pay them the attention they deserved, but the seneschal would have none of it. I quietly considered giving his scrawny backside a good kick when no one was looking, but Amanda caught my eye and shook her head firmly. We finally came to a halt before a huge set of double doors, and the seneschal lifted a hand to knock. The doors swung open on their own. The seneschal’s mouth pursed, as though to prevent him from saying what he really wanted, and then he drew himself up and led us into the royal presence.
The huge open chamber had the same scale and atmosphere as a cathedral, and a sense that this was where all the things that mattered were decided. The ceiling was so high you would have needed scaffolding just to dust out the corners. The floorboards had been waxed and polished to within an inch of their lives, but still bore the endless small dents that I supposed were inevitable where men walked around in full armour. Tall pillars had been fashioned from delicately veined marble, while magnificent stained-glass windows depicted armoured knights giving one-eyed giants and fire-breathing dragons a really hard time. But I only had eyes for the Round Table in the centre of the chamber.
It was everything I’d hoped it would be. Big enough to seat a hundred men, the great circle of tawney wood gleamed brightly, as though it burned with some inexhaustible inner fire. I tried to visualise what it must be like when all the knights were assembled around the table, shining in their armour like stars fallen to the earth, debating with their king on subjects of great matter. It must be like God enjoying a chat with his angels.
When I finally paid attention to the knights in armour waiting to meet us, I was a bit disappointed to find there were only four of them. They bowed to Amanda and ignored me, but I was getting used to that. The king stood a little apart from his knights, huge and splendid in his spotlessly polished armour, and smiling at Amanda as though she was the first good thing that had happened to him that day.
A final figure stood at the back of the chamber, staring off into the distance as though concentrating on something far more important. An elderly gentleman with a gaunt face and scraped-back grey hair, he was dressed to the height of Victorian fashion, right down to the gold watch chain stretched across his waistcoat, and the monocle screwed firmly into one eye.
The seneschal bowed to the king and started a formal introduction, but Amanda just talked over him till he gave up.
“Hello, Arthur. It’s been a while. Allow me to present Jack Daimon, the Outsider. He’s one of the good guys.”
Arthur’s steel boots made a muted thunder on the wooden floor as he came forward to greet us. A great bear of a man, with a mane of red hair under his jewelled crown, and a heavy jutting beard. I was sure I’d read somewhere that the knights of old were a lot shorter than modern men; something to do with the diet. That’s why suits of armour in stately homes always seem so small. But Arthur hadn’t got the memo; he stood a good head taller than me, and his shoulders were so broad he probably had to turn sideways to get through doors. His armour was scalloped here and there for style, but still looked like it weighed a ton; yet Arthur moved so easily in it the whole affair might have been made of silk. When he finally crashed to a halt before us his welcoming smile seemed entirely genuine.
“Welcome to Camelot, Sir Jack.”
“It’s just Jack,” I said, too overawed to be properly polite.
The seneschal made a high pained noise behind me, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind. He nodded easily to Amanda.
“Welcome back, Lady Amanda. It has been too long since you graced us with your presence.”
“Good to be back,” said Amanda. “Where’s Gwen?”
“It’s her day to volunteer at the hospital wards,” said Arthur. He shook his head in admiration. “I can honestly say I’d rather fight a pack of werewolves than do bedpan duty. Anyway, allow me to present my knights, Jack. And before you ask, no we don’t normally stand around in full armour. It takes the best part of an hour, and a whole bunch of special helpers, just to get into the damned suits. Unfortunately we’re expecting trouble. If Merlin’s right.”
“I’m always right,” said the man at the back of the chamber. “It’s my thing. It’s what I do. I am Mister Always Right.”
“Come and meet my knights, Jack,” said Arthur. “They’re a lot easier to get on with.”
“I heard that!” Merlin said loudly.
“You were meant to,” said Arthur.
The first knight I was introduced to turned out to be a woman: Sir Eleanor. A great strapping warrior, she had a harsh driven look but still managed a brief smile for me. Her skin was a deep brown, and it only took me a moment to realise who she reminded me of.
“You’re staring,” she said, in a not entirely accusing way.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “It’s just that you look so much like Queen Boudicca.”
Sir Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “My ancestor. How would you know what she looked like?”
“I’ve met her,” I said.
She showed me her brief smile again. “Of course you have. You’re with the Lady Amanda.”
Next to her stood an elf: Sir Llanfair. Inhumanly tall and slender, even in his armour, his face had been chiselled into sharp angles, with icy blue eyes and tall pointed ears. His shoulder-length hair was so blond as to be almost colourless. He didn’t smile, but did favour me with a thoughtful nod.
Sir Guillam was a bluff, hearty, country squire type, and so heavily built his armour must have used up twice as much steel as everyone else. He looked to be well into his forties, and his nose and cheeks had the broken veins of the truly committed drinker. He’d lost most of his hair, and was trying to disguise it with a really unfortunate comb-over.
The final suit of armour looked like it had been through the wars. Someone had put a lot of effort into polishing it, but couldn’t disguise all the carefully repaired damage. It was also completely empty. Even though it stood upright on its own, and raised an arm to salute me. The helmet was tucked under its other arm, so I could see right inside, and there was definitely nobody home.
“Sir Brendan was killed in single combat with an ogre, three years ago,” Arthur explained. “But he wasn’t about to let a little thing like being dead get in the way of doing his duty. So now he haunts his armour and really puts the wind up his enemies. We call him the dead of knight.”
The other knights chuckled, in a forced kind of way. It was clear they’d had to hear the joke many times before. The empty suit of armour bent forward a little; the closest it could come to a bow. I nodded back. I was way past the point where I could be unsettled by a ghost in a can.
“You should have seen what he did to the ogre, after he came back,” said Sir Eleanor.
“I didn’t know you could stick an axe up someone that far,” said Sir Guillam.
“Let us be seated,” said Arthur.
We all sat down at the Round Table. The king and his knights took a while to settle, because sitting in full armour turned out to be a complicated and somewhat noisy affair. I was just relieved the chairs were able to take the strain. Amanda sat patiently, her hands folded together on top of the table. I looked at Merlin, to see if he would be joining us, but he was completely engrossed in solving a Rubik’s Cube. Except he wasn’t turning the sides; he just stared at them until they moved on their own. Soon they were spinning so fast that smoke came off them. Arthur started to speak, and I gave him my full attention.
“We’re in our armour because Camelot faces a real and imminent threat, and unfortunately most of my knights are away at present. Questing, or removing trolls from under bridges, or just generally keeping busy. I doubt that’s a coincidence.” He paused, to look steadily at Amanda. “I did hope you might be here to provide us with an answer to our problem.”
“I’m afraid not,” she said kindly.
“And yet here you are,” said Sir Eleanor. “Descending on Camelot like a bird of ill omen, with a companion unknown to any of us.”
“You’ll have to excuse El,” said Sir Guillam. “She’s very direct.”
“Like an arrow to the eye,” said Sir Llanfair.
“Best place for it,” said Sir Eleanor.
“I vouch for Jack,” said Amanda.
“Then no more need be said.” Arthur raised his voice, without looking round. “Come forward, High Sorcerer. Explain the dangers of our current situation to my honoured guests.”
Merlin tossed his Rubik’s Cube over one shoulder, and it vanished in mid air. He shot his cuffs, tugged fussily at his waistcoat, and only then slouched over to join us. He didn’t sit down, just scowled at the knights like a lecturer facing a more than usually dense audience. I got the impression the knights were used to that.
“As a young sorcerer learning my trade I went walking up and down the land,” said Merlin. “Searching out secrets and forbidden knowledge, and spreading joy wherever I went.” He glared around the table, to see if anyone wanted to challenge that, and then continued. “One day I happened upon two dragons of quite astonishing bigness making a nuisance of themselves in the North Riding. Terrorising towns, burning settlements, and generally devouring people, livestock, and anything else that didn’t run away fast enough. No one had any idea how to stop them, so it fell to me to do something.
“I persuaded the two dragons to enter a great underground cavern with tales of a huge treasure, and then tricked them into fighting over whose hoard it should be. While they were busy getting stuck into each other, I sneaked out and called down an avalanche to seal off the entrance. And that should have been that.
“But it seems the dumb brutes finally stopped fighting, and teamed up to break out of the cavern. Now they’re on their way here, to burn down Camelot and piss on the ashes. A bit of an extreme reaction in my opinion, but that’s dragons for you.”
“We should be able to handle two dragons,” Sir Guillam said briskly. “After all, we outnumber them.”
“It should prove an interesting test of skill and courage,” said Sir Llanfair. “Assuming we don’t all get broiled in our armour.”
Sir Eleanor carefully didn’t look at Merlin as she addressed the king. “The dragons are only coming to Camelot because the sorcerer is here. If he were to leave, on a fast horse that I’m sure someone would be only too happy to provide, the dragons would follow, and the innocent occupants of this castle would no longer be in any danger.”
“You do know I’m standing right here,” Merlin said mildly. “I can hear every word you’re saying.”
“Good,” said Sir Eleanor. “How fast can you pack?”
“Merlin volunteered to leave the moment he discovered the dragons were on their way,” Arthur said sternly. “I commanded him to stay. Camelot owes its existence to the high sorcerer’s wisdom. He is one of us, and we will stand with him against all threats.”
“Of course, Sire,” said Sir Eleanor. “No matter what it costs us.”
“Exactly!” the king said cheerfully. “Besides, it will do us good to get out of the castle for a while, and enjoy some fresh air and good old-fashioned dragon-slaying.”
Sir Llanfair raised a pale eyebrow. “Are we to understand that you intend to fight alongside us, Sire?”
“Damn right,” said Arthur. “I’m not missing out on the fun.”
The knights looked at each other. They didn’t seem at all happy. Even Sir Brendan in his empty armour, who didn’t have anything to look happy with.
“If we allow anything to happen to you, the queen will have us welded into our armour and thrown into the cesspits,” said Sir Eleanor.
“And they’re really full of cess at the moment,” said Sir Guillam.
“You know she would forbid this, Sire,” said Sir Llanfair.
“Then it’s just as well she’s busy at the hospital,” Arthur said happily. “By the time any tattletale can get word to her, it’ll all be over.”
“This is a really bad idea, Sire,” said Sir Guillam.
Arthur looked at him. “Who’s king?”
“I live to serve,” Sir Guillam said glumly.
Sir Eleanor sighed. “Oh, this can only go well . . . ”
Arthur turned to Merlin. “You are certain these creatures cannot be reasoned with?”
“They aren’t terribly bright, even for dragons,” said Merlin. “But they are quite definitely sensible enough not to listen to any human ever again. They’re coming here to kill not just me, but anyone who might have heard of their foolish behaviour. Dragons have their pride, and have always been heavily into revenge.”
“Then we have no choice but to slay them both,” said Arthur. He smiled at me. “And then afterwards, we can harvest their insides to make our medicines.”
“Really?” I said.
“Oh, dragon bits make for all kinds of effective remedies,” said Sir Guillam. “Though the rendering process does tend to get a bit whiffy.”
“You see?” said Merlin. “There’s some good to be found in everyone. Now, Sire, if I could have just a quick word in private, about tactics?”
“Tactics?” said Arthur. “Has it really come to that? Can’t we just use our tried-and-true method of hitting them really hard until they stop moving?”
“You haven’t seen these dragons,” said Merlin. “They are big, big, and really big, with a side order of extra bigness. You could hit them with a house and they’d barely notice.”
“Oh, very well,” said Arthur. He heaved himself up out of his chair, despite everything his armour could do to hold him where he was, and the two of them moved off a way to talk quietly.
Amanda looked after them, apparently lost in thought. I looked at the knights, and found they were all staring at me.
“So,” said Sir Guillam, trying for the light touch and not getting anywhere near it. “What is it you do, Sir Jack, exactly?”
“Please,” I said. “Just Jack. It’s my job to deal with magical threats. Make them safe, to protect people.”
“Just like us, then,” said Sir Guillam. “Someone gets in a bit of bother, and we step in to help them out.”
“Suddenly and violently,” said Sir Eleanor.
“A hero is defined by what they do when it matters,” said Sir Llanfair. “Are you ready to fight alongside us, Jack?”
“I would be honoured,” I said. And I meant it.
Sir Llanfair looked across at Arthur and Merlin. They hadn’t raised their voices, but there was an awful lot of arm-waving going on.
“What is there to argue about?” said the elf knight. “See a dragon; kill it.”
“Depends on the kind of dragon,” Sir Guillam said wisely. “I once had to fight this really nasty specimen that could spout fire from both ends. I had to drag it into the nearest river and drown it.”
“I once encountered a dragon that boasted it could repair any wound,” said Sir Llanfair. “So I cut it into small pieces, burned them separately, scattered the ashes in a several different rivers and said Let’s see you come back from that. It didn’t.”
“My dragon was demanding a tribute of young maidens to devour,” said Sir Eleanor. “So I found an inn-keeper who’d been convicted of poisoning her guests, filled her with her own poison, tied her up and gagged her, and presented her to the dragon as tribute.”
“You always did fight dirty, El,” said Sir Guillam.
“Best way,” said Sir Eleanor. “It helped that I had a good teacher.”
“My best student,” said Sir Guillam.
They all looked at Sir Brendan, and the empty suit of armour solemnly spread his arms wide, to indicate the size of the one that got away.
I was fascinated by how casually they talked about fighting dragons. Not for glory, or to be a hero, but because that was their job.
“It sounds like you have a real dragon problem,” I said. “Is it very widespread?”
“They aren’t all bad,” said Sir Guillam. “And they do keep the other predators under control. As long as dragons don’t bother human settlements, we mostly leave them be. It’s a big world; there’s room in it for everyone.”
Sir Brendan’s armour nodded his agreement.
“You’ll have to excuse Jack and me for a moment,” said Amanda. “We need to talk.”
We got up from the Round Table, and moved a polite distance away.
“You were starting to look a bit out of your depth,” said Amanda.
“A ghost knight?” I said. “Really?”
“When it comes to death, a magical world allows for a lot more options,” Amanda said calmly. “Though in Brendan’s case, it’s mostly down to stubbornness. Arthur has offered to release him from his vows so he can move on, but Brendan won’t hear of it. And there are times when a dead knight can come in very handy.”
“Like when?” I said.
“For dealing with troublesome hauntings, of course,” said Amanda. “Sir Brendan scares the hell out of other ghosts. All they’ve got are sheets and a few chains to rattle; he has a suit of armour and a really big sword blessed by the Church.”
And then everyone stopped talking and looked round, as the seneschal came hurrying in. It caught me by surprise, because I hadn’t realised he’d left. He took a moment to regain his composure, and then bowed formally to the king.
“The dragons have been spotted, Sire. At the speed they’re flying, we can expect their arrival in the extremely near future.”
Arthur smiled at his knights. “Time to go to work.”
He strode out of the chamber and his knights followed after him. The sound of their boots on the wooden floor was like a drum roll of honour. I started to follow them, but Amanda stopped me. Merlin was coming over. He drifted to a halt before us and then smiled absently, as though trying to remember what had been on his mind when he started moving.
“Hello! I’m Merlin. Any questions?”
“Why the Victorian clothes?” I said, because you’ve got to start somewhere. “And especially, why the monocle?”
“I have a complicated relationship with Time,” said Merlin. “I collect the flotsam and jetsam of popular culture, from all across Time. Because I can. Would you like to see my collection of lava lamps? No? Didn’t think so. No one ever does. I am surrounded by Philistines. Oh well, let’s take a peek at what’s occurring outside.” He paused, and shot me a knowing look. “When we get out there, try not to get caught underneath the dragons. They aren’t exactly noted for their toilet-training, and we probably wouldn’t be able to dig you out for some time.”
He gestured dramatically, and a standing mirror taller than all of us appeared out of nowhere.
“Well?” it said loudly. “What is so important I had to be dragged away from my shows?”
Merlin sighed. “I created this mirror to allow me to see the future more clearly. And all it ever wants to do is watch soap operas.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” the mirror said haughtily. “All human life is there.”
“I want to see the dragons,” said Merlin.
“And I want a pony. You promised me a pony! Oh all right, don’t look at me like that. You know I hate it when you sulk. I suppose we can take a quick look while the adverts are on.”
Our reflections vanished from the mirror, replaced by a view of two dragons hurtling over empty countryside. Big leathery creatures, with wide membranous wings and gargoyle faces, they seemed to plough through the air by sheer force of will, only staying up because they intimidated the ground into keeping its distance. Their mouths were so full of teeth I couldn’t work out how they closed them, and their deep-set eyes burned like living flames.
“How are we supposed to get a sense of scale without any context?” Merlin said crossly. “Pull back, dammit!”
“Yeah, I’ve got something you can pull . . . ” muttered the mirror.
The image retreated in a series of jerks and stutters, and finally showed the two dragons flying over a small town. Their combined shadows plunged the entire area into darkness.
“Those are big dragons,” I said.
Merlin nodded unhappily. “I had hoped my memory was at fault over their size, but apparently not. And they do strike me as just a bit peeved . . . ”
“You buried them alive,” said Amanda. “How did you think they were going to feel?”
“I sort of hoped one of them would kill the other, thus reducing the problem by fifty per cent.”
“Are you done with me now?” said the mirror. “Only they’re just about to reveal who shot JR!”
“It was the alien on the grassy knoll,” said Merlin, and dismissed the mirror with a wave of his hand. It made a rude noise as it disappeared, taking its view of the disturbingly large dragons with it. Amanda laughed softly at the expression on my face.
“You should see some of the really big ones . . . ”
“I think I’m coping pretty well,” I said. “I’m not panicking, or sprinting for the horizon, or . . . Actually, I can’t think of any other sane option.”
“If you have to, put your head between your knees,” Amanda said briskly. “Makes it so much easier to kiss your arse goodbye.” She turned to Merlin. “Would I be right in assuming that the reason you didn’t kill the dragons back in the day, was because you couldn’t?”
“Got it in one,” said the sorcerer.
“But . . . you’re Merlin!” I said.
He smiled, just a bit tiredly. “Reports of my powers have been greatly exaggerated. Usually by me. Dragons are magical creatures; they have to be, or something that size would never get off the ground no matter how hard it flapped its wings. You can’t fight magical creatures with magic; the two forces cancel each other out. That’s why Arthur sends knights to deal with them, because cold steel always works. And anyway, it’s important that men kill monsters. To prove to themselves that they can.”
“I taught you that,” said Amanda.
Once we’d left the castle and made our way back to the grassy plain, there was a strained feeling to the atmosphere, like the unnatural calm before a cataclysmic storm. Arthur and his knights were studying an empty sky that wasn’t going to remain empty much longer. They each had a heavy steel helm tucked under one arm, and a long sword buckled at their side.
“How long before the dragons get here, Merlin?” said Arthur.
The sorcerer consulted his pocket watch. “They’re running a bit late. Must be strong headwinds.”
“Any last words of advice?”
“Try not to get killed.”
“Bit late for me,” said an echoing voice, and I realised with a bit of a start that it came from inside the empty suit of armour.
I was so busy staring at Sir Brendan I actually missed the moment when the dragons came sweeping over the horizon. Their shadows immediately plunged the grassy plain into an artificial twilight. The temperature dropped, and all the birds stopped singing. Arthur put on his helm, and the knights followed his example. I looked at the massive creatures blocking out the sun, and then at the small group standing ready to oppose them with nothing but cold steel and firm resolve. I turned to Amanda.
“How can they hope to kill things that big?”
“This is what they do, Jack,” said Amanda. “It’s their job.”
“It’s suicide,” I said. “Look . . . If Merlin isn’t going to get involved, it’s down to you.”
“My magic wouldn’t affect the dragons any more than his.”
“I didn’t come all this way just to watch King Arthur and his knights get torn apart and eaten by flying lizards on steroids!” I said. “You have to do something!”
“No,” said Amanda. “You have to do something. That’s why I brought you here.”
I looked at her. “You expect me to fight dragons?”
“Of course. That’s what a hero does.”
“I am not a hero.”
“Not yet,” said Amanda. “But you’re getting there.”
The dragons were almost on top of us. I rummaged quickly through my backpack, searching through gas grenades, enchanted nunchuks, and a pistol made from bone that fired ghost bullets. (No use against the living.) In the end, the athame all but forced itself into my hand, though how I was going to get close enough to do any real damage without being chewed up and spat out eluded me for the moment. Unless one of them bolted his food, and then maybe I could stab at its heart on the way down. I hefted the athame, took a deep breath, and moved forward to stand next to Sir Guillam.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Always room for a good man,” the knight said cheerfully. His voice echoed a little as it emerged from the Y-shaped slit in the front of his helm. “Tell you what, I’ll knock them down and you can carve them up.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said.
“To make God smile, have a plan,” said Arthur, and all the knights chuckled briefly.
The dragons came sweeping down at incredible speed. We raised our weapons and braced ourselves. And a series of brilliant energy beams shot past us and enveloped the huge creatures in a cloud of crackling energies. The dragons plummeted from the sky, and slammed into the ground so hard it rocked under our feet like an earthquake. Arthur and his knights stood solidly in their armour, but Sir Guillam had to grab my arm to steady me. I glanced back at Amanda, to make sure she was all right, but she seemed entirely unaffected. Merlin had lifted up his feet and was hovering cross-legged in mid air. The dragons lay sprawled on the grassy plain like leathery mountains, their massive wings slumped like collapsed tents. Their fiery eyes stared unseeingly.
“What the hell just happened?” I said.
“Beats me,” said Merlin, dropping elegantly back to earth.
“Are they dead?” I said.
“No,” Merlin said judiciously. “Just had all the fight knocked out of them. They’ll wake up, eventually. Unless we do the sane thing and cut their heads off first. And then beat them flat, with sledgehammers.”
“Where did that attack come from?” said Arthur. “And who do we have to thank for this unexpected salvation?”
“I’d hold off on the thanks,” said Amanda. “Whoever fired on the dragons is currently hiding from us behind a cloaking field.”
“A concealing glamour,” Merlin explained to Arthur.
He gestured sharply and Miriam and Emil Morcata appeared, standing at the head of an army of Grey aliens. There were hundreds of the ugly things, each of them a good seven feet tall and entirely naked, the better to show off their unnatural natures. The arms and legs were weirdly jointed, the chests were hideously concave, and the oversized heads had the familiar all-black eyes, no nose, and slit mouths. They were also sexless, like the Men In Black. Something about the Greys gave me the same feeling of instant revulsion as a scuttling spider. It took me a moment to realise they were all carrying unfamiliar but very powerful-looking weapons.
Amanda moved in beside me. “They’re just Halloween bogeymen, created to terrorise people and keep them in line. But I don’t like the look of those weapons, Jack. If they’re powerful enough to bring down dragons . . . ”
“Particle accelerator guns,” said Merlin, just a bit unexpectedly. “Future tech. Of course, it all gets horribly out of hand. Shame about what happens to Los Angeles. Or Arizona Bay, as it is on the new maps.”
I made myself concentrate on what was in front of me. “What are Miriam and Emil doing together?”
“I saw them the exact same moment you did, Jack,” Amanda said calmly. “So I really don’t know any more than you do.”
“I take it you have reason to believe that their bringing down the dragons was not an act of charity,” Arthur said dryly.
“Whatever’s behind this, you can bet the bill will be a lot higher than you’re willing to pay,” I said.
“Only one way to find out,” Merlin said brightly. “Somebody needs to go over there and talk to them. I would volunteer, but I don’t do that.”
“I am king,” said Arthur. “I will talk to them.”
“Do you want me to write you a speech?” said Merlin.
Arthur looked at him. “I still remember your last effort: Welcome to our home. Please don’t kill us and sell all our mistresses into slavery.”
“Short and to the point, I thought.”
“Stand there and don’t say a word,” said Arthur. “I’ll take care of this.”
“No,” said Amanda.
The king looked at her. “No?”
“Jack and I know these people,” said Amanda. “They’ll talk to us.”
“That sounds annoyingly sensible,” said Arthur. He turned to Merlin. “You’re the one who remembers the future. Why didn’t you warn me this was going to happen?”
“Because I didn’t know,” said Merlin. “And I should have. I think someone has been messing with my head. Which is odd, because that’s usually me.”
Amanda and I started toward Miriam and Emil.
“Any problems, shoot us a meaningful look and we’ll come running,” said Sir Guillam.
“I’m just in the mood to slaughter a whole bunch of goblins,” said Sir Eleanor.
“Never knew you when you weren’t,” said Sir Llanfair.
I kept a careful eye on the Greys as we drew nearer, but none of them so much as twitched a muscle. Which actually made them even creepier, like so many trapdoor spiders waiting to pounce. I did my best to keep that out of my face. Amanda just strode along, humming something cheerful. We finally came to a halt before Miriam and Emil. He gave me a smug look, so I ignored him and spoke directly to her.
“Hello, Miriam. We do keep bumping into each other, don’t we?”
“I’m here on Department business,” she said. “You’ve been a bad boy, Jack.”
I had to raise an eyebrow. “Why is the Department mad at me?”
“You shouldn’t have sided with her,” said Miriam, indicating Amanda with a jerk of the head. “You belong to the Department.”
She stopped then, because I was smiling. And I just knew it wasn’t a nice smile.
“I have always been my own man.”
“That can be a very lonely position,” said Miriam.
“I’m not alone. I’m with Amanda.”
“And that’s the problem.”
“How were you able to find us?” I said.
“You took one of our books,” said Miriam. “We have ways of tracking them.”
“And I told you I wasn’t finished with you,” said Emil.
Miriam turned to look at him. “You speak out of turn again, and I will feed you to the Greys.”
Emil bristled at her tone, but subsided. Which was interesting.
Miriam turned back to face me. “Emil’s people have made common cause with the Department.”
“Because you both serve the secret masters?” I said.
Miriam smiled briefly. “Everyone does, whether they know it or not.”
“I’m surprised George isn’t here,” said Amanda.
Miriam didn’t even glance at her. “He isn’t with the Department any more. I’ve taken control, with Emil as my second in command.”
“You mean your enforcer,” I said. “He has the look.”
Emil started to say something. I looked at him, and he thought better of it.
“I set policy, and Emil sees that it’s carried out,” said Miriam. “Every Department needs someone like him, if they want to get anything done.”
“How did you get here?” I said.
“That’s classified.”
“Where did you get the energy weapons?” said Amanda.
Miriam looked at her for the first time. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I’d like to know,” I said.
Miriam smiled coldly at the unmoving dragons. “Science one, magic nil.”
I nodded at the army of Greys, standing motionless in their ranks. “Why the alien attack dogs?”
“Men In Black are fine when it comes to intimidating an inconvenient witness,” said Miriam. “But when the Department really wants to bring the hammer down it sends in the Greys. They’re here to put an end to Camelot, by killing everyone associated with it.”
I stared at her, remembering the Men In Black at Boudicca’s court. And when I finally spoke, my voice was so cold and dangerous it even disturbed me.
“When did the Department decide it was in the atrocity business?”
“The secret masters have decided that the memory of Camelot is still too strong, if someone like you can reach it so easily,” said Miriam. “Once we’ve destroyed the dream, the effect will reverberate throughout history. No more myths and legends, no more tedious musicals . . . ”
“You can’t do that!” I said.
“Of course I can,” said Miriam. “And the outrage in your voice is all the justification I need. Camelot can’t be allowed to have that kind of effect on people.”
“Then why fire on the dragons?” said Amanda.
“To make sure the weapons really are everything we were promised,” said Miriam. “And because it was fun.”
“Enough talk,” said Emil. “Let’s get this party started.”
“In a minute!” said Miriam. “Don’t be in such a hurry, Emil. You must learn to savour these little moments. And before we do anything . . . I want a word with you, Jack.” She glared at Amanda. “In private.”
“Don’t mind me,” said Amanda.
Miriam moved away, gesturing sharply for me to go with her. I glanced at the motionless Greys, and went after her.
“I warned you not to side with that woman,” said Miriam. “You have no idea what she is.”
“She’s not the one who’s allied herself with an army of killer aliens,” I said. “How did George get forced out?”
“He wasn’t prepared to embrace the big picture. So his retirement was brought forward.”
“How can you want to destroy something as wonderful as Camelot?”
“Are you kidding?” said Miriam. “Entitled aristocrats swanning around in armour, telling everyone else what to do?”
“It isn’t like that!”
“Grow up, Jack.”
“I can’t let you destroy Camelot.”
“You can’t stop me,” said Miriam. “But if you surrender, I’ll take you back and speak on your behalf to the secret masters.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s not your fault, the way you are. You’ve been lied to your whole life, while I’ve always known how the world really works.”
I gestured at the motionless dragons. “How do they tie in with your No such thing as magic?”
“Just overgrown reptiles, who should have had the sense to die out with the dinosaurs,” Miriam said briskly. “Don’t change the subject, Jack. You need to make a decision while the offer’s still on the table.”
“Camelot is important,” I said. “It matters. And I will fight to protect it.”
“You’d throw away your life, for a medieval fantasy?”
“Some dreams are worth fighting for.”
“Take the offer, Jack!” Miriam said angrily. “You don’t have to die here!”
“Why do you care?”
“Because you matter to me!”
She waited, but I couldn’t say what she wanted to hear. Her mouth tightened, and her gaze became cold and impersonal.
“You can’t say I didn’t try.”
“That was kind of you.”
“I don’t do kind,” said Miriam.
We walked away from each other, back to the lives we’d chosen. Amanda put a comforting hand on my arm.
“You did your best, Jack.”
I shook my head. “I really thought I could get through to her.”
“She likes you, but ambition was always going to be more important,” said Amanda. “Just the fact that she was willing to talk was a promising sign. After the fighting is over, you should definitely try again.”
“You really believe we can beat an army of Grey aliens, armed with weapons from the future?”
“I find it helps to maintain a positive attitude, in situations like this,” said Amanda.
We went back to Arthur, who looked at me steadily. “You could have walked away from this. Saved yourself.”
“But that never even occurred to him,” said Amanda. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
I looked at the silently waiting Greys, and they stared back with their dark unreadable eyes.
“We don’t have a hope in hell, do we?” I said quietly.
“Got to be easier than two dragons the size of mountains,” said Sir Guillam.
“Really, the woman did us a favour,” said Sir Llanfair.
“We should send her a thank you note,” said Sir Eleanor. “Maybe a basket of fruit and some nice flowers.”
The elf knight looked at her. “Are you joking? I can never tell when you’re joking.”
“To be fair,” said Sir Guillam. “Elves aren’t noted for their sense of humour.”
“I can be funny,” said Sir Llanfair.
“Of course you can,” Sir Eleanor said crushingly. “We’ve seen what you wear to Court.”
The knights limbered up, preparing themselves for battle. The elf knight’s movements had an almost supernatural grace, while Sir Eleanor looked like she was ready to take on the whole Grey army by herself. Sir Guillam swept his sword back and forth, his every movement brutally efficient because he was the oldest of the knights and had the least energy to spare. The dead knight, Sir Brendan, didn’t look any different from the others now he had his steel helm in place, but I had to wonder how much damage his armour could take before it finally gave up the ghost.
King Arthur stretched and stamped and swung his sword as though it was weightless. He seemed like a force of nature: implacable and unstoppable.
Sir Guillam nodded to Sir Llanfair. “Ready for the fray?”
“Always.”
“Even against impossible odds?”
“Best kind.”
“All right,” said Sir Guillam. “You take the unbelievable number on the left, and I’ll take the appalling odds on the right.”
“What does that leave me?” said Sir Eleanor.
“You can finish off the ones we knock down,” said Sir Guillam.
“No mercy?” said Sir Eleanor. “No quarter?”
“Look at them,” said the elf knight. “Do those goblins look like they’d understand the concept, even if we explained it to them?”
“We should still make the offer,” Sir Eleanor said stubbornly.
“No,” said Sir Brendan.
Everyone turned to look at the dead knight. His voice echoed hollowly from inside his helm, as though in a church.
“They are here to destroy Camelot, the people and the dream. They are monsters.”
“Well said, Brendan,” said Arthur. “I can always rely on you to get to the heart of the matter.”
And then a brilliant beam of light stabbed down from the sky, and George was suddenly standing between us and the Greys, holding a very large book. He glared about him.
“Everybody stand down! Don’t make me have to tell you twice!”
“George?” I said.
He nodded briefly. “Not now, Jack. I’m working.”
Miriam came hurrying forward to face him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Keeping you from making a really big mistake.”
“How did you even get here?”
George hefted his book. “Ever since I was put in charge of the Department library, I’ve been quietly sneaking the odd book home with me, when I didn’t trust what the Department might do with it. Now do as you’re told, Miriam, because there’s enough power in this book to bring your entire army to its knees.”
Miriam’s gun was suddenly in her hand. “Don’t make me do this, George.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Miriam.”
She shot him at point blank range, but the bullet slammed harmlessly into the book. Miriam kept firing until she ran out of ammunition, but the ancient leather cover just soaked up the bullets. Miriam looked like she wanted to throw the gun at George, but regained control of herself with an effort and put her gun away. George shook his head.
“You really are very predictable, Miriam. Now take your Greys home and put them back where you found them. Camelot is too important to be meddled with.”
“That’s not what our superiors believe.”
“My Department does not bow down to the secret masters.”
“It’s not your Department any more,” said Miriam. “It’s moved on.”
“Did you really think replacing me would be that easy?” said George. “Now put a leash on Emil and we’ll get out of here. I have a Department to run and you have some explaining to do.”
Miriam moved in close to George, and lowered her voice. “Please, don’t do this to me in front of everyone.”
“I’m sorry,” said George.
“I’m not,” said Miriam.
She thrust a knife between his ribs, and twisted it. I started forward, but Amanda grabbed my arm as all the Greys turned their guns to target me. George tried to say something, but all that came out was a low shocked sound. The book tumbled from his hands, and disappeared before it hit the ground. Miriam jerked her knife out, and blood streamed down George’s side. He dropped to his knees before Miriam and she cut his throat, stepping quickly to one side to avoid the jetting blood. George fell onto his face and lay still. Miriam looked down at him.
“Letting you retire early was all the mercy I had left in me.” She turned to look at me, and her gaze was utterly cold. “I’ll make you a final offer, Jack. Persuade the king to stand down, and he can save his precious castle. We’ll just install a puppet ruler in his place.”
Emil looked at her sharply. “Those aren’t the orders!”
“I decide policy,” said Miriam. “And there’s more than one way to kill a dream. I like the idea of a Department functionary sitting on Camelot’s throne, dismantling everything Arthur achieved.” She smiled the king. “Of course, all your knights will still have to die.”
“Send your army against us,” Arthur said calmly. “Whether we stand or fall, the dream of Camelot will endure.”
Miriam turned her back on him, and walked away.
“Camelot’s walls won’t last one minute against the Grey’s weapons,” I said urgently to Arthur. “Get word to the castle. Tell them to leave by the back door, and then run for their lives.”
“They wouldn’t go,” said Arthur.
I looked at him. “This isn’t their battle!”
“Of course it is,” said Arthur. “We all serve the dream in our own way. They won’t run; just as they trust us not to.”
“But if the Greys get past us . . . ”
“Then the castle will fight to the last man and woman,” said Arthur. “We don’t battle evil because we expect to win, Jack. We fight because it’s the right thing to do.”
I turned to Merlin. “You remember the future. Who wins here?”
“Events are in flux,” Merlin said carefully. “Now that unexpected elements have entered the world, history is up for grabs.”
“Does this mean you’re going to get involved, at last?” said Arthur.
Merlin looked thoughtfully at the ranks of motionless Greys. “I shall have to talk to Amanda. I’ve always valued her judgement in these matters.”
“How long have you known her?” I said.
“All my life,” said Merlin. He looked at me with something like compassion. “It’s never wise, for mortal man to fall in love with magic. It rarely ends well for either side. Of course, I could be wrong. I often am.”
He shook his head sadly, and wandered off to be alone with his thoughts.
“Merlin won’t fight,” said Arthur. “That’s not what he does. There’s no point in getting angry with him.”
“You might as well get mad at the weather,” said Sir Guillam.
“You do,” said Sir Eleanor. “I’ve heard you.”
Amanda walked away, without even glancing at me, so she could talk quietly with Merlin. Arthur took off his steel helm so he could look me in the eye.
“Mages can be very frustrating. They know so much, and can explain so little. Come stand with my knights, Jack, and we will do what we can.”
I nodded stiffly. Arthur put his helm back on, and led me over to the knights. They were standing silently, facing the enemy like gleaming steel statues. Ready to take on monsters armed with weapons they couldn’t hope to understand; because somebody had to.
“Would you care to stand beside me, Jack?” said the king.
“More than anything,” I said.
I hefted my athame, and Sir Llanfair nodded approvingly.
“An eldritch thing, with a keen edge. A telling combination. Try not to stab me when the affray starts. It’s bound to get a bit busy out there.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
“Of course you will. You must let me examine the blade, once the battle is over. The workmanship is exquisite.”
“You seem very confident that we’ll survive,” I said.
“Well, I expect to,” said the elf. “But then, I’m wearing armour.”
I couldn’t tell whether he was smiling, inside his helm.
I looked at the alien Greys. I had intended to use the athame to make their guns disappear, the way I had with the Men In Black’s clothes, but ever since I took the witch knife in my hand, I could tell there was a force in place, protecting them. The witch knife could still cut through anything physical. Not the best weapon when you’re facing futuristic energy guns, but it would do.
Miriam’s voice came clearly to us across the open space.
“Time’s up! Emil, unleash the Greys.”
Emil raised his voice, to show he was important too.
“Greys! Slaughter these fools, and then go to the castle and kill everything that moves. Today, we destroy a dream!”
“Likes the sound of his own voice, doesn’t he?” said Arthur.
“Wait a minute!” I said loudly. “I’ve just thought of something!”
Emil started to argue, but Miriam shut him down with a look.
“I’m curious to see what Jack thinks he’s come up with. And once I’ve proved how worthless it is, his friends’ despair will be that much deeper.”
“You’re weird,” said Emil.
I tucked the athame carefully into my belt, opened my backpack, and spoke to it quietly. “If you’re listening, book, I’m hoping you’re as powerful as you’re supposed to be. Can you help? Not for me, but for Camelot?”
The book leapt out of the pack and into my hands. I shouldered the pack and walked toward the Grey army, holding the book out before me. I heard heavy footsteps, and when I glanced back Arthur and his knights were right behind me.
“You didn’t think we’d let you do this on your own, did you?” said Arthur.
“Never crossed my mind for a moment,” I lied.
Miriam frowned at the book. “That’s your offer? I already have a library full of books!”
I didn’t say anything. Emil gestured at the Greys, and they raised the weapons that had blasted two dragons out of the sky. My stomach turned over but I kept walking, gripping the book tightly so my hands wouldn’t shake. Miriam shook her head disgustedly, and looked to Emil.
“I’ve had enough of this. Fry them.”
Emil gestured to the Greys, and hundreds of energy beams flashed across the grassy plain. But somehow they were all dragged off course, and slammed into the book I was holding. The Greys’ guns held enough destructive energies to blow up a dozen castles, but the ancient leather cover absorbed them all. The Greys fired and fired, and then lowered their weapons and looked to Emil for new orders.
“You don’t need guns!” Miriam said harshly. “You have claws! Tear them apart! Do it!”
The Greys dropped their weapons and surged forward, holding their hands out before them like a praying mantis. The clawed fingers flexed eagerly, hungry for blood and slaughter. I stuffed the book back into my pack. It had done all it could. I pulled the pack into place on my back, and took a firm grip on my athame. King Arthur and his knights held their swords steady. I’d never felt more scared in my life, or more proud to be part of such a company.
Arthur and his knights broke into a lumbering run, their steel boots sinking deep into the earth. They charged right at the approaching Greys, and I went with them. They quickly built up a head of speed, despite the weight of their armour, and divots of earth flew in all directions. They were all singing the same battle song, inside their helms. Not a death chant, or a plea for strength from the Almighty; just a simple song on the glory to be found in fighting evil. I saved my breath for running.
We hit the Greys hard, our blades cutting down the horrid things like scythes through wheat. Dark blood flew on the air, and Grey after Grey collapsed without making a sound, but more of them leapt over the fallen bodies to get to us. We were soon forced to a halt by the sheer weight of Grey numbers, but our weapons still rose and fell in steady butchery. The knights’ long swords flashed brilliantly, like summer lightning trapped in steel, while I hacked viciously about me with my witch knife, shearing cleanly through flesh and bone.
The Greys swept past us, turned, and hit us from behind. We formed a circle, shoulder pressed against shoulder. For all their numbers, the Greys could only come at us a few at a time, so we cut them down and trampled them underfoot, stamping black blood into the earth. But no matter how many we killed, there were always more. The sheer effort of wielding the athame started to catch up with me. My muscles ached, and sweat ran down my face. I had no idea how Arthur and his knights were able to keep going in so much armour. Vicious claws raised showers of sparks as they raked across steel chests and arms, but I had no such protection. All I could do was duck and dodge, and strike out at everything that came within reach. Black blood soaked my knife arm, while red blood spurted as alien claws savaged me again and again. A Grey darted in and opened up a deep furrow in my forehead, and blood poured down, filling my right eye. I sliced through the Grey’s guts, and kept on fighting. My muscles screamed with fatigue and I was desperately tired, gasping for breath with every blow, but I was damned if I’d stop while there was a single Grey left to threaten Camelot.
King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table stood their ground, and I stood with them. The grass at our feet churned into a slippery morass of mud and blood. The Greys threw themselves at us in waves: an endless supply of killing machines, just following their orders.
Even in the midst of so much death and madness, I was still aware of what was happening around me. Arthur and his knights might wear similar suits of armour, but I could always tell them apart. I kept a watch on all of them, because what they did gave me the strength to keep going.
I saw a Grey leap high into the air, to attack Sir Eleanor from above. She was so busy killing the Greys in front of her she didn’t even see it coming. But Sir Guillam did, and his long sword came swinging round in a vicious arc that cut the Grey out of mid air. Black blood fell like rain as he sheared it through, and the pieces dropped separately to the ground. But Sir Guillam was so busy doing that, he didn’t see the Grey that came at him from behind. Sir Eleanor launched herself forward, to place herself between Sir Guillam and the Grey. She parried its terrible claws with her steel arm, and sliced its oversized head clean off its shoulders. Another Grey pressed forward to take its place, and Sir Guillam butted it in the face with his steel helm. The alien features shattered, and black blood spurted. Sir Eleanor ran the creature through, and pulled her sword free just in time to face another Grey.
Sir Guillam and Sir Eleanor moved quickly to stand back to back, guarding each other: the old tutor and his most accomplished student.
Sir Brendan’s sword rose and fell with inhuman speed, cutting up Greys like sides of meat. He made no move to defend himself, and the Greys swarmed all over his armour, searching for weak spots. Not knowing he no longer had any. The dead of knight surrounded himself with piled-up corpses, and none of them rose to fight again as he had, because they had no honour.
Sir Llanfair danced among the Greys, too fast and graceful for them to get anywhere near him. His sword lashed out in sudden flurries that left Greys dropping unmoving on all sides. And then a group of them hit him from every direction at once and there was nowhere left for him to go. He cut them down with calm precision, his sword moving faster than the human eye could follow. So elegant, and so deadly. But the sheer force of numbers drove him this way and that, always keeping him a little off balance, and at last a flailing hand knocked his helm off, and the Greys went for his exposed throat. Sir Llanfair laughed in their faces.
While I fought and bled and couldn’t help any of them. But I still kept fighting.
A series of lightning bolts stabbed down from the sky, to blast the Greys apart in showers of blood and gore. Ragged pieces pattered wetly to the ground. Merlin strode right into the midst of the fighting, throwing his lightning bolts this way and that, and no matter how many Greys died, not a single drop of black blood stained his fine Victorian clothes. The Greys threw themselves at him in waves, but Merlin strode through them like death incarnate.
Amanda walked calmly behind Merlin, guarding his back, and wherever she looked Greys withered and died. I remembered how many times I’d looked into those eyes, and a chill went through my heart.
A group of Greys charged straight at her; so many that some would be bound to reach her. I hacked my way through the battle to intercept them, and the Greys were so intent on Amanda they didn’t see me coming. I killed them all, crying out with the effort of every blow, but Amanda didn’t even glance in my direction. She just kept going, guarding Merlin’s back.
I stood alone for a moment, ignored by the tides of battle as they swirled around me, so tired I could barely lift the athame. The only reason the Greys weren’t pulling me down was because they were concentrating on more important targets. I watched King Arthur carve a bloody path through the heart of the Grey army. Their strength and speed and numbers meant nothing in the face of his calm determination: an unstoppable force that could not be slowed or turned aside.
His sword flashed supernaturally bright as it sent black blood flying in all directions. The Greys were coming at him from all directions now, and he had moved so far from his knights there was no one to watch his back. And I was tired, so tired. But he was Arthur, defender of Camelot, so somehow I found the strength to lift my witch knife one more time, and force myself forward.
By the time I reached Arthur the sheer press of bodies had forced him to a halt. The Greys crawled all over him, trying to pull him down. I hit them hard, cutting Greys away from the king like a gardener deadheading roses. Arthur threw off the last few with a great shrug, and pressed forward again. And I went with him.
Staggering and stumbling and gasping for breath, my blood splashed onto the churned up ground from too many wounds to count. With no armour and no protection I kept going, driven on by a simple dogged determination not to let Arthur down. I swept my witch knife back and forth, while vicious claws sank deep into my flesh and grated on bone. Sometimes I cried out in shock and pain, and then I would grit my teeth and cry bitter tears, before somehow finding the strength to cut down another Grey.
Because I was the Outsider, and this was my job. To protect people from the horrors of the hidden world.
My only advantage was that the Greys couldn’t get at me from behind. The book was still in my backpack, and the Greys wouldn’t go anywhere near it. Eventually the tides of battle swept Arthur away from me, and once again I was left alone. I stumbled to a halt, my head hanging down. Sweat coursed down my face and dripped onto the ground. I could barely feel the athame in my hand. And then I saw Miriam and Emil right in front of me, so I forced my head up, and headed straight for them.
I caught brief glimpses of the other knights at their work. One of the Greys had knocked off Sir Brendan’s helm but the empty suit of armour just went on fighting without it. Sir Guillam charged a Grey with his steel shoulder, and drove it back so hard it took a dozen more Greys with it. Sir Llanfair fought with uncanny speed and inhuman grace, and Sir Eleanor’s sword rose and fell like a machine. And King Arthur . . . was magnificent.
They all were. There were giants on the earth in those days. And I was with them.
Suddenly, the Greys broke. Faced with knights in armour who would not stop, a sorcerer who could throw lightnings, a woman whose very look was death, and one man who would not drop no matter how much they hurt him . . . They broke. One minute they were swarming all over us, and the next they were running for their lives. Miriam and Emil screamed after them, but the Greys weren’t listening. It seemed even manufactured killing machines had their limit. Arthur and his knights, and Merlin and Amanda, were left standing alone in a morass of churned-up mud that squelched black blood every time they shifted their feet. Miriam and Emil looked at me as I headed toward them, and vanished. The fleeing Greys disappeared with them, including all the bodies we’d left scattered across the blood-soaked earth.
And just like that, the day was ours.
I stumbled to a halt. My heart was hammering painfully fast, and my clothes were ragged and torn and soaked in blood and gore. Arthur shook thick drops of black blood from his sword and sheathed it, and then he and his knights removed their helms so they could grin triumphantly at each other. I was relieved to see they looked just as sweaty and exhausted as I felt. Except for Sir Brendan, of course. The dead of knight was wandering calmly around the plain, searching for his missing helm. Arthur started toward me, grinning broadly, and his knights came with him.
“A great victory, Jack,” Arthur said cheerfully. “And you helped make it possible.”
“Honoured to fight beside you,” said Sir Guillam.
“Indeed,” said Sir Llanfair. “It takes real courage, to fight without armour.”
“You would not turn your face from the enemy,” said Sir Eleanor. “Which is all that can be asked of anyone.”
“Say something complimentary to him for me,” called Sir Brendan. “You know, I can’t see my helm anywhere. I think one of the nasty little buggers must have run off with it.”
I tried to say something, but I had no strength left. I sat down hard in the mud, and the athame fell from my hand because I couldn’t feel it any more. My head was full of a soundless roar and my sight was dimming, as though all the light was going out of the world. Arthur hurried forward and bent over me, his steel gauntlet heavy on my shoulder. He said something, but I couldn’t hear what. Amanda pushed Arthur out of the way, so she could kneel before me. I tried to smile at Amanda. There were tears on her face, and her voice seemed to come from a long way away.
“Oh, Jack, what have I done to you?”
“It’s all right, Amanda,” I said. “It doesn’t matter. I fought beside King Arthur. That’s worth dying for.”
“You’re not going anywhere without me!”
She took my head fiercely in her hands, and new strength surged into me. Sight and sound snapped back into focus as my head cleared. I felt strong and well again, and nothing hurt any more. I laughed out loud from the sheer joy of being alive, and Amanda laughed with me. She threw her arms around me and held me tight, and I held on to her and never wanted to let go. The knights crowded around us as we finally broke apart, and Arthur grabbed my hand and hauled me up onto my feet. I ran my hands over my jacket, as I realised all the damage had disappeared along with the blood.
“How about that?” said Sir Guillam. “She even fixed your clothes!”
“Pity she couldn’t do the same for the elf,” said Sir Eleanor.
“It’s a style thing,” said Sir Llanfair. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Arthur looked at me steadily. “Do you have a title, Jack?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m the Outsider.”
“Not good enough,” said the King. “Kneel.”
I knelt there in the mud, and he tapped me on both shoulders with the flat of his sword.
“Rise, Sir Jack. knight of the Round Table.”
I got to my feet again. I’d never felt happier, even though I was pretty sure I wasn’t worthy of the honour. Sir Guillam winked at me.
“Everyone feels like that. You’ll get used to it.”
Amanda picked up my athame, and handed it to me. I slipped it into my backpack, and she smiled at me dazzlingly.
“I knew you’d love it here.”
“Arthur . . . ” said Sir Guillam.
Something in his voice caught our attention, and we all turned to look. The dragons were stirring. The Greys’ energy weapons had brought the huge creatures down, but not killed them; now they were waking up. And remembering why they’d come here.
“Oh shit,” said Sir Llanfair. It sounded so much worse in his perfect voice.
“Some days, things wouldn’t go right if you paid them,” said Arthur.
“Will you relax?” said Merlin. “I’m here.”
He snapped his fingers at the dragons, and they both shrank rapidly in size until they were no bigger than songbirds. With distinct looks of surprise on their little faces. Merlin smiled smugly.
“Fighting off the effects of the energy weapons used up most of their magic, and that left them vulnerable to me. I think I’ll keep them as pets.”
“It’s your job to house-train them,” Arthur said sternly. “If I find one dragon dropping on my throne, they’re stew.”
George was lying alone on the blood-soaked grass. I drew Arthur’s attention to the body.
“Bury him somewhere nice. He died honourably.”
“Of course,” said Arthur. “Was he your friend?”
“No,” I said. “But he might have been.”
Arthur nodded. “Come, we owe ourselves a celebration, for not dying after all.”
Before I could say anything, Amanda took me by the arm and drew me gently to one side.
“We have to go, Jack.”
I looked at King Arthur, laughing with his knights. “I don’t want to leave.”
“No one ever does,” said Amanda. “But we still have much to do.”
I nodded slowly, and let her lead me away across the grassy plain. She stayed close to me, and losing Camelot was that much easier as long as I had her. A thought occurred to me.
“What did you say to Merlin, to get him to enter the battle?”
She smiled. “I told him about you.”
I didn’t push her. It made as much sense as anything else.
“Where are we off to now? Will it be as amazing as this?”
“In its own way,” said Amanda.
“Will I have to fight for my life again?”
“Your life, and others. But what else would you expect, from Sir Jack, the Outsider?”