King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned / Enchanted / Embittered (King Arthur and Her Knights, #1-3)

“No man can hope to win against me in combat. But should such a thing come about, I will leave these lands and relinquish all my demands. Now, I will wait the agreed upon two days. Make your decision, king,” Maleagant said before he wheeled his horse around and rode off.

His companion knights did not follow him. Instead they dismounted and started sliding gear off their horses, settling in and setting up camp

“The gates remain closed,” King Leodegrance said to the soldiers before he too turned his horse around and rode back to the castle keep.

The crowd dispersed and even the soldiers returned to their patrols and their positions. Only Britt remained, staring at the portcullis and knights that separated her from her men.

Britt was trapped.





Chapter 4

Trapped

Britt sat on the edge of a fountain inside the castle gardens. Excalibur lay balanced on her lap, and she placed her hand upon it, as if stroking a cat or dog.

She was in trouble.

If King Leodegrance agreed to ally himself with Maleagant the castle would open and Britt would be free to return to her companions. However, Maleagant (and King Ryence) would likely march upon Camelot as soon as he was married to Guinevere.

If King Leodegrance grew a spine and said no, Britt would be locked in the castle when Maleagant laid siege to it. If she was lucky Merlin would figure out where she was and bring an army from Camelot. If she was not lucky…

“The best scenarios involve war for my people,” Britt said, clenching her hands into fists. “I don’t want that.”

Her only hope was for a champion to fight Maleagant on Guinevere’s behalf. “Where is that priggish Lancelot when you need him?” Britt grumbled.

“Oh,” said a feminine voice.

Britt looked up to find a ladies maid, the same ladies maid who chased the white cat and helped her look for the Round Table the day before. “Good morning to you, My Lady,” Britt said, rallying a smile for the girl’s sake.

The young lady’s eyes grew large and she clasped a hand to her chest. Without a word she turned and ran, her skirts flapping as she disappeared into the castle.

“And now I frighten females. Wonderful,” Britt said. She sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes and listening to the fountain bubble at her back as she considered her options.

Britt was almost dosing—insomnia makes for great morning and mid day naps—when she was again jarred from her thoughts.

“See!”

“My word, it’s true.”

Britt opened her eyes to the ladies maid, who stood with a lavishly dressed young maiden. She had reddish blonde hair that was artfully arranged in a complex braid, wide eyes, and a smile that said she was exactly aware how beautiful she was. She was a little older than the ladies maid, but certainly not more than 17 or 18.

Britt instantly recognized her, even though she had seen her only once before with Merlin. This teenage girl was the infamous Guinevere. Britt knew because she had burned her image in her mind as someone to distrust and dislike.

“I thought my luck was bad to bring Lancelot to my courts, but to encounter both of them in the same week? Wretched,” Britt grumbled.

“Are you an Elf King?” Guinevere asked.

Merlin would throttle her if he learned she had treated the daughter of a king with disrespect. So Britt flattened her lips and arranged her expression into one of amusement. “Although I am often asked that question I can tell you with certainty, I am not.”

“A faerie lord then?”

“No, I am not that either.”

“But surely you must be. I have never before met one so striking as you,” Guinevere persisted.

Britt didn’t understand why people insisted she was so comely—she was not gorgeous after all—and shrugged. “That reveals more about the people you have met than it does of me,” Britt said, standing and strapping Excalibur to her belt.

Guinevere approached Britt and extended a hand.

Britt caught her by the wrist when she almost touched Britt’s face. “What are you doing?”

Guinevere gazed up at Britt. “I am staring into the face of the noblest man in Britain.”

Britt smiled again to keep from laughing. Guinevere sounded like a lovesick high school girl. If this was her character it was no surprise she eventually fell for Lancelot. “I regret to inform you, but you do not,” Britt said, dropping Guinevere’s arm and backing away.

“How can you say that?” Guinevere said, batting her thick eyelashes at Britt.

Britt was not impressed. “Because I apparently have met more men than you have and know better. If you will excuse me, My Lady.”

“You leave?”

“I do.”

“How can you?”

“Quite easily, I assure you.”

Tears welled up in Guinevere’s eyes. “Will you not give me a token to remember you by?”

Britt frowned. “You’re nuts aren’t you?” she said before recovering and adopting the proper words. “Forgive me, My Lady, but we have met for but a few moments. What is there to remember?”

“A pure love that began on a spring morn,” Guinevere said. Her tears began to flow, and Britt was still unmoved. She was about to tell Guinevere so when another ladies maid scrambled into the gardens.