The girls squealed and ran in a ring around the reddish blonde haired girl, laughing and complimenting her as Britt and Merlin disappeared in the trees.
“I didn’t peg you as an amorous lover of women. It appears I am wrong,” Britt said.
Merlin scoffed. “Hardly. That was Lady Guinevere of Camelgrance, daughter of King Leodegrance.”
“What?” Britt halted Roen.
“The red head. She’s Leodegrance’s daughter.”
“What did you say her name was?”
“Guinevere. Arthur, are you alright?” Merlin asked as Britt almost toppled from her saddle.
Guinevere. The unfaithful queen of England, the love of Arthur’s life who ruined him by committing adultery with his best friend, Lancelot.
“She must be touring the countryside while her father is at war. Perhaps we should ask her to come to Camelot,” Merlin said.
Britt wheeled Roen in front of Merlin’s horse with an expertise even Merlin didn’t know she possessed. The black gelding snorted and bumped Merlin’s mount before throwing his head. His rider was scarcely more controlled. “Over my dead body,” she said before she started off again.
“Well,” Merlin blinked, cueing his horse to follow.
“How do you know she is Guinevere?” Britt asked.
“The tents were Leodegrance’s colors, and some of his flags flew from the top poles. Guinevere was wearing the finest dress, and her sash had her father’s symbol stitched to it,” Merlin explained. “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“You’re acting rather oddly—even more so than usual.”
“It’s fine. Let’s find this Sable Knight.”
Britt and Merlin rode in the direction Guinevere had indicated for an hour. Just as Britt’s butt was starting to hurt they found the well described apple tree whose branches groaned under the weight of countless shields.
Beyond the apple tree was a green, trimmed lawn above which loomed a great castle with a large tower and impressive walls.
Britt tried to snap her fingers with her leather gloves on. “This guy. This guy must be the cursed individual who declared people have to have perfectly mowed yards and lawns.”
Merlin frowned. “What are you talking about? That’s a jousting field.”
“Whatever,” Britt said as Roen picked his way through a stream before striding up to a shield posted by the apple tree. Britt studied the writing on the shield for a moment. “Merlin, I can’t read a word of this. What does it say?”
“Whoso smiteth this shield doeth so at his peril,” Merlin quoted. “We have come to the right place.”
“May I?” Britt asked, reaching for a hammer that was chained to the sign-shield.
“At your leisure,” Merlin said.
Britt took the mallet and pounded the shield a few times before she dropped the hammer and nudged Roen away from it. “Talk about ridiculous. He has a convenient hammer hanging from the warning shield? This guy is looking for fights.”
The sound echoed across the hateful lawn/jousting field, and in no time at all the castle gates opened. Out rode a giant knight covered in pitch black armor. His horse was black, and the horse’s tack was black as well.
Britt scratched her neck as she watched the knight and his charger approach in a controlled, confident prance.
“Hail, Sir Knight,” the black knight said when he drew near. “Was it you smiteth my shield—though the warning says not to?”
“Wait, you’re the Sable Knight?” Britt asked.
“I have been called that,” the knight acknowledged. His voice was the deep thrum of thunder muffled by his metal helm.
“But your armor is black,” Britt said.
“Yes,” the knight said.
“But everyone calls you the Sable Knight,” Britt said.
“Yes,” the knight said, sounding as though he thought Britt was rather stupid.
“What were you expecting?” Merlin asked
“Well, sable, right? Doesn’t that usually mean fur? Or like, Sable collies are brown and white. You don’t have a scrap of fur or brown on you,” Britt said.
“Sable also means black in terms of heraldry,” Merlin dryly said.
“What? How is that—never mind. So why don’t you go by the name the Black Knight?” Britt asked.
“The Black Knight sounds like a rogue name.”
“And attacking people with spears and stealing their shields is not a rogue activity?”
The Sable Knight grumbled. “My name matters not! You have struck my shield, which does me a grave discourtesy. In return I shall take your shield and hang it upon yon apple tree. If you refuse I will fight you until I can rip it from your feeble fingers.”
Britt rolled her eyes and plucked her shield off Roen’s rump and tossed it on the ground. “Fine, there you go. So, Sable Knight. That’s misleading, I really think you ought to change it.”
The Sable Knight stared at Britt’s shield on the ground.
Merlin covered his mouth with the inside of his elbow to stifle his laughter.