“Britt you are…,” Sir Ector trailed off before kneeling. “My Lord,” he said.
“My Lord,” Sir Kay echoed, joining his father.
The Candlemas trial came and went. It was utterly unremarkable to Britt, perhaps even boring. Many knights, kings, and barons showed up. All of them tried pulling the sword, and all of them failed. Britt pulled the sword from the stone and stabbed it back in the stone multiple times, freezing because it had finally snowed and the wind cut through all but the warmest of cloaks. Lot and his allies were not moved.
A third trial was scheduled at Easter. Britt felt for sure she would wake up from her unusually long nap by then, but the trial came, men came, and no one could pull the sword but Britt. The days passed by in a haze. Britt almost felt as though she had been stuck in London for a few days instead of months. But that was how dreams worked, or so Britt supposed.
“This isn’t working. Your plan to unite Britain is going to fail, Merlin,” Britt yawned. She was riding out the Easter trial in the comforts of a pub.
“It’s working,” Merlin said, running a hand through his light blonde hair. “I didn’t think everyone would immediately accept you as King. I planned for it to take a season. What you have not noticed is that each and every time you pull the sword from the stone more men join our cause,” Merlin said, stabbing a finger at Britt.
“What do you mean?”
“The commoners. Peasants, they are deeply in love with you already. Knights respect those who are known for battle prowess, the will of God, royalty, and magic. You might appear to be green in the art of battle, but the sword proves the other three. Mark my words that many a knight thinks you are the true King.”
“At this rate I’m going to wake up before I am crowned king,” Britt muttered.
“What did you say?” asked the sharp eared Merlin.
“Nothing. If this doesn’t work out will you send me home?”
“It will work out. It must,” Merlin said, suddenly involved in studying the pattern of the wooden table.
Britt frowned as she watched the enchanter avoid her gaze. “What aren’t you telling me, Merlin?”
Merlin took a sip of his drink and muttered into his mug.
“Merlin,” Britt repeated.
Merlin sighed. “I can’t send you back to your time.”
Alarm shot through Britt and the world spun before Britt reminded herself that it didn’t matter because it was just a dream anyway. “Oh?”
“It’s easy to bring a person from the future to the past because to that person it is history. It has already happened and they could learn about it if they searched. Once in the past, though, it is very difficult to send a person to the future, because no one knows the future,” Merlin said.
“So you’re saying you could keep sending me back through history, but I would never be able to come forward through time,” Britt said, ice settling over her heart.
“That is correct. The faeries are more able to commit time travel, but only a select few can manage it and it is forbidden as it would wreak chaos on the fabric of time,” Merlin said.
“I see. Good thing this is all just a dream then,” Britt muttered to herself before she rubbed the back of her neck, unable to cast off the feeling unease.
A fourth trial was scheduled for Pentecost.
“This could go on forever,” Britt complained the morning of the Pentecost trial. She fed a carrot to Sir Kay’s horse as the quiet knight brushed it. Since Britt first pulled the sword from the stone on the day of the Christmas tournament, Merlin had banned her from wandering around alone. Sir Kay was Britt’s escort of choice as he usually left her alone or practiced riding and swordsmanship with her. If Britt was with any of the older knights—or even worse, Merlin—she was usually coerced into learning more about her allies and enemies. (And frankly Britt did not care that King Lot preferred red roan horses to chestnut colored horses.)
“Merlin will end it soon, My Lord,” Sir Kay said, running a hand down his horse’s front left leg. He still had an aversion to calling her Britt or Arthur.
Britt picked up a brush and turned to her horse. “I’m starting to doubt he will. We’ve been at this for months,” she said as the mare nuzzled her.
“Merlin will see it through. He is nothing if not determined and filled with perseverance. He planned for this when he was but a child himself. He will put you on the throne,” Sir Kay said.
At that moment Merlin banged into the stables, upsetting Britt and the horses.
“What are you doing out here, the trial starts at noon! You’re filthy and wretched looking,” Merlin said, clearly aghast.