Enlighten (King Arthurs and Her Knights Book 5) (6 page)

When Ywain’s face popped into view, Britt could still hear Sir Damas and Sir Outzlake arguing.

“This is clearly my win, so trundle back to your little
manor
and cry off!” Sir Damas demanded.

“Never! You should have fought for your own honor!” Sir Outzlake said.

“
YOU
should have fought for your own honor as well!”

“Hello, Ywain,” Britt said with a smile that showed more of her teeth than usual due to the pain.

“My Lord,” Ywain said, his expression tight. “Are you, are you…will you make it?”

“Ywain! He stabbed me in the shoulder, and I’m fairly certain it didn’t go in very deep.
Yes
, I’m going to make it!” Britt barked.

Ywain looked relieved.

“Help me remove the rest of his armor. We’ll have to rip open the under padding,” Sir Bedivere said.

This brought Britt out of the ocean of pain with stark clarity. “Wait, what?” she said.

“We need to remove your armor and garments so your chest can be inspected,” Sir Bedivere said, removing several pieces of armor on her arm.

Britt laughed. “That is a very nice thought, but no. No, that is unnecessary.”

“My Lord, the wound must be cared for,” Sir Bedivere said.

“Can’t Merlin do it?” Britt asked.

“Merlin did not ride with our search party,” Ywain said.

“Oh. In that case, how far away are we from Camelot?” Britt asked.

“We are not riding back to Camelot with you in this condition, My Lord,” Sir Bedivere said.

“How is he?” Sir Griflet asked, skidding out and almost falling flat on his face when he joined his fellow knights in crowding around Britt.

“I don’t know, I haven’t gotten all of his blasted armor off. My Lord, please stop fighting us,” Sir Bedivere said.

“You’re all overreacting. I’m f-fine,” Britt said, stammering when someone jarred her injured shoulder and pain hit her like a truck.

Ywain scowled. “This is all your fault. If you had just ignored Sir Outzlake’s outrageous request to serve as his champion and not wasted our time, none of this would have happened!” he said as Lancelot knelt by Britt’s head.

“If I had not served as Outzlake’s champion we wouldn’t have found My Lord and would still be searching for him,” Lancelot said.

“Maybe so, but if you weren’t such a poor loser he wouldn’t be in this condition!” Griflet snapped.

Lancelot ignored the jab and rested his dreamy eyes on Britt’s face. “I am sorry, My Lord. I don’t know what came over me. If I had known it was you—”

“Your anger at being beaten got the best of you, eh, Lancelot? Temper, temper, temper. But you’re lucky. I’m feeling magnanimous. I’ll let you survive if you
stop
your cohorts from undressing me!” Britt said, real panic starting to build. “Where is Merlin?”

“We already told you, My Lord, he didn’t ride with us,” Ywain said.

“See—he is quite injured. His memory is slipping,” Griflet hissed to Lancelot.

“It is not—I just didn’t think you were serious. How can Merlin
not
be here?” Britt demanded.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, My Lord,” Sir Lancelot said.

“I expect you wouldn’t. Everybody, just
stop touching me
. I’m serious—in fact I order it!” Britt said, struggling to sit up.

One of the knights firmly pushed her down.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, My Lord. Finally, we can remove the cuirass,” Sir Bedivere said.

“Don’t—STOP!” Britt shouted, panic making her heart thunder in her ears.

The knights wouldn’t need to strip her down to see she wasn’t what she claimed to be. All they would need to do is take off her jerkin. Her body would betray the rest, and all would be lost.

How is Merlin not here? He’s always here when I’m in trouble
! Britt thought, panic making her breath faster.

“Lift him up on three, Lancelot, so we can remove the cuirass. It’s the least you can do,” Sir Bedivere said.

“Don’t you dare!” Britt said, starting to struggle in earnest. She thrashed, but Ywain and Griflet held her tight.

“One.”

“Stop it!” Britt shouted.

“Two.”

“I mean it! Merlin will kill you all!”

“Three.”

When Lancelot lifted Britt up her shoulder was wrenched. She gasped with the new wave of pain and, recognizing the feeling of disconnect from her shoulder, suspected that it really was dislocated.

I’m going to kill Lancelot. I was right—he DOES bring about my downfall
, Britt thought before her vision grew hazy and pain claimed her, stealing her conscious.

Still many miles away, it was Merlin’s turn to straighten in his saddle.

Sir Kay raised his eyebrows at the wizard but said nothing.

“Maybe your gut isn’t so far off,” Merlin said, rubbing the back of his neck with a worried frown.

“What is it?”

“Apprehension. Some kind of magical foresight. I feel as if…”

“As if?”

Doom breathed down Merlin’s neck like a murderous beast. “As if my life’s work is about to come crashing down around my ears.

Chapter 5

Revealed

Britt groaned as she came to, consciousness easing into her like an ocean wave crawling up the beach. Her eyes fluttered open, and a moment passed before she remembered the precarious situation she was in. She snapped upright—her arm protesting with the sudden movement.

She still wore her jerkin, but there was no doubt in Britt’s mind that her knights knew. Their faces said it all.

Sir Griflet paced back and forth, shaking his head. “It can’t be,” he muttered.

Ywain couldn’t even look at Britt. His back was to her and his hands were clenched in fists. Tension and anger lined his body, and although he was unmoving, Britt got the distinct feeling he was like volcano, ready to erupt.

Lancelot—the knight Britt cared the least about—seemed to have the most control over himself. He leaned against his dapple gray horse, his eyes narrowed.

Sir Bedivere sat about ten feet away, plopped on the ground as if his legs didn’t have the strength to hold him upright. When he raised his head and met Britt’s gaze, the look of betrayal in his eyes put a knife through Britt’s heart.

They knew.

“Why?” Ywain said. His back was still to Britt, but he seemed to instinctively know she was awake.

Britt hesitated. “I had no choice,” she said.

“You
lied
to us!” Ywain said, spinning around as if his body were yanked by puppet strings. The young knight’s expression made Britt want to cry. He was angry, but his eyes looked lost and frightened. “Was any of it real? Any of the things you said—were they true?”

“Of course they were,” Britt said, grimacing and holding her wound. It seemed that in their shock, the knights had done nothing with her shoulder wound—not that she blamed them. Besides, Excalibur’s scabbard was keeping her blood in her. “I’m still the same person.”

“No, you’re not,” Sir Bedivere said, his voice quiet.

“This is a nightmare—that’s it! It has to be a nightmare,” Sir Griflet muttered. “Does anyone care to stab me, or some such thing? I wish to wake up now.”

“You’re not dreaming, Griflet,” Ywain growled, his eyes narrowed in hatred as he stared at Britt. “This is real. Our
King
has done nothing but lie to us and laugh at our ignorance since the beginning.”

“I have never laughed at you,” Britt calmly started.

“Impossible,” Ywain said with a bark of laughter that was far too harsh for such a young man to utter. “I imagine this whole time you’ve been barely able to keep from splitting your gut with laughter. You called me your shield! You
lied
!”

“I lied about myself, but that doesn’t mean the things I said to you were untrue,” Britt said.

Ywain laughed again, and turned his back to Britt.

The knights were silent.

Sir Damas and Sir Outzlake still argued in the background, completely oblivious to the drama taking place no more than thirty feet away from them.

Britt tried to move, the pain in her shoulder made her feel the throbbing of her heart in strange places. “I’m sorry, but I had no choice.”

“Didn’t you, My Lord?” Sir Bedivere quietly asked. The marshal looked as if Britt had stolen his reason to live with the reveal of her gender. Ywain’s anger was easier to handle than Bedivere’s look of betrayal and hurt. “You couldn’t have told any of us?”

Britt hesitated.

Ywain laughed again. “Don’t be foolish, Sir Bedivere. Of course someone knew. You can’t tell me Merlin is oblivious, nor Sir Kay and Sir Ector. In fact, I bet most of those old codgers Merlin holes up with know about it. Know about
her
,” Ywain scoffed, removing his armored gloves. He clenched them in his hand before throwing them at the ground.

“I was your marshal,” Bedivere said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I would have done
anything
for you.”

“I know!” Sir Griflet brightened. “This is a faerie trap! We’ve been caught in a faerie trap that plays games with our minds. We must find a way out of it—we have to continue our search for the real King Arthur. This one is obviously a farce,” Sir Griflet said.

“We’re not in a faerie trap, Griflet. We’re just being played with by a conniving female,” Ywain snarled.

Britt looked from the three unsteady knights to Lancelot—who still leaned against his horse. The shallow knight’s face held traces of anger, but he was markedly less affected than the others. His dreamy, green eyes met Britt’s and he raised an eyebrow, looking down on her.

Everything has been ruined
, Britt realized.
Once the rest of the Order of the Round Table knows, King Arthur’s rule will be over. I’ll be lucky if they don’t hang me, or burn me at the stake
.

It pained Britt to see the knights she knew, men she loved—with the exception of Lancelot—turn into enemies before her very eyes. Their anger, betrayal, and newly minted hatred were exposed in their eyes and the tight muscles of their faces.

Run
.

“You’re worse than my Aunt Morgause!” Ywain finally spat out. “At least a man
knows
when she’s playing with him. But you whispered exactly what we wanted to hear and petted us and cooed over us like we were your
lapdogs
!”

“I never treated you—”

“LIAR! Everything you’ve told me is a lie—I cannot possibly believe you now!” Ywain said.

Britt’s heart beat in her throat.
Run!
Her mind urged her, but her heart twisted to see the pain she caused her knights.

“I’m still Arthur. Just because I’m…” Britt trailed off and glanced at Sir Damas and Sir Outzlake, but they were busy poking each other in the chest. “I’m still the person you knew me as.”

Sir Bedivere shook his head. “No. The king I knew is dead,” he said. The shadows in his eyes said he was mourning the loss of King Arthur—of Britt’s charade.

There was the scrap of a sword sliding out of its scabbard. Britt snapped her head in the direction of the sound and found Ywain glowering at her, holding his unsheathed sword.

RUN
!

Unable to leash her fear any longer, Britt lunged to her feet. To accomplish the feat she had to use her injured arm—which made her stomach queasy. She pushed the nausea aside and snatched up her borrowed sword before scrambling to her temporary mount’s side. She slid the sword in the scabbard attached to the horse and threw herself on the chestnut’s back.

She wheeled the horse towards the woods and heeled it, making the animal launch into a canter.

“That’s my horse!” Sir Damas shouted—finally distracted from his argument with his brother.

“Wait—My Lord!” Griflet shouted, running a few steps after Britt before he changed directions and ran towards his horse.

Lancelot caught him before he reached the charger. “Don’t,” Britt heard the handsome knight say. “Let her go.”

Anything else he said was lost to Britt as she entered the thick forest, leaving broken dreams and broken knights in her wake.

When Sir Bedivere, Sir Lancelot, Sir Ywain, and Sir Griflet returned to Camelot, they called a meeting of Arthur’s core knights. These thirty or so knights were men that had served King Arthur loyally. Most of them stood with him—her, Lancelot supposed—since she was crowned, although there were some more recently additions, like Sir Tor, Lancelot himself, and his cousins—Lionel and Bors.

Normally the numbers of King Arthur’s loyal knights was much higher, but as it was spring many of them—like Sir Gawain and King Pellinore—were absent from the courts and were out questing.

It’s just as well
, Lancelot mused.
If we had any more knights present, they might turn into a mob and rip Camelot apart
, he thought as he watched a knight throw a drinking goblet at the wall.

Sir Ywain was in a shouting match with Sir Ector and Sir Bedivere was almost boneless in his seat—he had renounced his title of marshal shortly after the so-called meeting started. Sir Griflet was still in denial, spouting ridiculous ideas like the female King Arthur was a changeling from the faeries and they needed to rescue the real Arthur, and Sir Percival was in the process of challenging Sir Bodwain since it had been revealed the older knight knew Arthur’s gender. Chaos and shouting ruled the room.

The only knight that was taking Arthur’s femininity in stride was Sir Tor. The good humored knight was not enraged or at all shaken by the proclamation. Instead he thought about it for a few minutes before shrugging and watching the ‘meeting’ with the same good humor he did everything with.

“Pay up, Lionel,” Sir Bors said, holding out a hand.

Sir Lionel grumbled before slapping a few coins in Sir Bors’ outstretched hand.

Sir Bors smiled in satisfaction and slipped the money into a money bag on his belt.

“What was that for?” Lancelot asked with a raised eyebrow.

“When we first heard out about our pretty king we made a bet,” Sir Lionel grumbled.

“I said you wouldn’t raise a fuss. Lionel bet otherwise,” Sir Bors said in satisfaction.

“I see,” Lancelot said, unperturbed by his cousin’s behavior.

“So why
aren’t
you raising a fuss?” Sir Lionel asked.

“There is nothing for me to be upset about,” Lancelot said, leaning back in his chair to avoid a flying plate.

“You were set on worming into Arthur’s inner circle,” Sir Bors pointed out.

“Certainly, but not because I actually
liked
the man,” Lancelot said. “It was more that I couldn’t comprehend why he didn’t want me in his circle. I am the best there is,” Lancelot shrugged.

“Except at sword play. My Lord—or My Lady, I suppose—has you beat there,” Sir Lionel said with a cheeky smile.

Lancelot gave Sir Lionel a look so dark and hateful, a lesser man would have begged for forgiveness. As it was, Lancelot’s cousin was used to receiving such a look. “Ahh, see? You
are
angry. Give me my money back, Bors.”

“Our bet was how he would openly react, not what emotions he harbored in his heart,” Sir Bors said, folding his arms across his wide chest.

“Still, I’m surprised you’re not more upset,” Sir Lionel said, rubbing his chin.

“It’s simple. I was not emotionally vested like the foolish sops around us were. They believed in him and in his cause. Now everything they have known and fought for has been dashed,” Lancelot said.

“I don’t know that everything is dashed,” Sir Bors said.

“I know you were never Arthur’s faithful little knight like most of the Round Table, but I thought would be angry over his—her—deception. She had the wool pulled over our eyes.”

“She was most assuredly not the one doing the tricking,” Lancelot snorted. “King Arthur is a female. She hasn’t the intelligence necessary to run this trick. Merlin is one who played the courts.”

“Merlin was the mastermind, no doubts there,” Sir Lionel nodded.

“I don’t think it would be right to say that King Arthur lacks intelligence,” Sir Bors argued. “Yes, Merlin must have led the charge, but she would not have gone undiscovered so long if she didn’t have some measure of cunning.”

“She might be like Morgause or Morgan le Fay. That would be a chilling thought,” Sir Lionel said, making a face as he watched Sir Ector and Sir Ywain come to blows.

“If anything I find it reassuring,” Lancelot said. “King Arthur being female explains why she was so easily able to manipulate the men and women of her courts. A few pretty words, that wretched smile of hers, and everyone wriggled like a puppy for the beautiful woman—even if they didn’t know it.”

Sir Lionel looked away from the fighting and gave Lancelot a strange look.

“What is it?” Lancelot asked.

“You’re acting queer.”

“In what way?” Lancelot scoffed.

“You’re too easily accepting whatever ideas Bors and I toss out. Not a minute ago you were calling our pretty king stupid. Now you’re saying she’s a conniving female,” Sir Lionel said. “Normally someone has to bash your head against a rock to get you to change your mind.”