He wanted me to take the sword from Britt Arthurs and go to my father, claiming I had pulled the sword. A pox on Merlin! What knight who has a healthy respect for the heavens would dare come between the God appointed King and the sign of his worthiness? I know Merlin plans to grace me with the influential title of seneschal, but sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve to be the butt of his jokes.
I must confess that Britt Arthurs is more competent than I gave her credit for. She has not been blinded by Merlin’s persuasive statements and admits in wry humor that she’s aware she won’t be ruling. She is guarded in her meetings with myself and my father. I must get her to be forthcoming somehow, for I greatly need to find out if she has any defensive skills at all.
One of the reasons I was against a woman as a king is because I feared she would be easy to kill. If I could teach Britt Arthurs how to wield a dagger, perhaps it would give her a fighting chance.
As Kay wiped his feather quill clean Britt plopped down on a bench opposite from him. “I can’t decide if Merlin is a raving genius, or a lucky idiot,” she announced, watching Merlin laugh in good humor as he toasted a knight.
“Wizards are often an unfortunate combination of both,” Kay grunted.
Britt started at Kay for a moment before her lips cracked into a rather pleasing grin. “You may be right.”
Kay winced as he rolled his shoulders, attempting to relax his bruised, stiff muscles. “I did not think my duties as seneschal would include being beaten senseless,” he grumbled, hiding the pleased quirk of his lips behind his mustache as he retrieved his logbook, quill, and ink.
Today Britt Arthurs has surpassed my greatest hopes. My father—being the inquisitive soul he is—asked Britt Arthurs if she knew how to ride.
She does, not very well if one listens to her, but I am certain she must be good based on her modest description of her skills with the sword.
I asked her to fight so I could properly gage her skills—after all I must calculate how many guards will need to be posted around her. How foolish I was!
Britt Arthurs is the best swordsman I have ever encountered. She moves with a swiftness that is unparalleled, and never blocks or parries a blow. She moves forward, constantly pushing with endless attacks. If I moved fast enough I could occasionally attempt a blow, but she would always counter strike or—in a rare case—dodge.
Facing Britt Arthurs with a sword is, I will admit, terrifying. She does not have the bloodlust or the intent to kill as many men have. She is, instead, far worse. When she lashes at you it is like facing a dragon. There is no cruelty in her eyes, only the promise of a swift end.
She has not the strength necessary to wield some of the more brutal weapons, like a mace or spear, and she knows nothing—not even the rules—of jousting. Her utter hopelessness in these various weapons, though, is eclipsed by her skill with the sword.
She does not appear to know her own talent as she claimed I was holding back during our brief skirmishes. (If only that were so.)
It was disheartening to be so soundly beat by a woman, but I am so relieved that Britt Arthurs will not die easily that I am not much repulsed.
I must think of a creative way to guard her, for she jealously protects her privacy. Guards posted to her will not be a popular rule, but what else can I do?
Kay stumbled into his room in the wee hours of the morning. He stared at his bed for a few moments before shaking his head. “No, it is important to write while the memories are fresh,” he said, making his way to the small writing table.
Today, the day of Pentecost, my Lord Britt Arthurs was crowned King of Britain. King Lot, King Urien, King Pellinore, and King Ryence all protested as expected, but it was still done.
During the celebration feast my Lord Britt Arthurs granted boons and such. She gave me the post of seneschal. I know Merlin made the decisions of whom to post to what positions, but I am honored by the title all the same.
My Lord Britt Arthurs did buck orders and announced Sir Bedivere as her marshal. Merlin was displeased—likely more over my Lord Britt Arthurs making a decision without his say so—but Sir Bedivere does not seem to be a bad sort of knight. I have already sent out inquires about his character and skills. I have heard back from my London contacts, who speak favorably of him, but I will have to wait until we arrive at my Lord Britt Arthurs’ new castle—which is yet unnamed for Merlin gave little thought to it when he ordered construction some 10 years ago—to conduct a more detailed character study.
Preparations for war are underway as King Lot and his sniveling brother King Urien insulted my Lord Britt Arthurs at the celebration feast. Something of a fist fight broke out during the feast. I am sorry I did not get to do more than knock King Urien to the ground. I should have liked to shake him until he was dazed, but my Lord Britt Arthurs and Merlin ended the fight before I had time.