Knight Spellbound Read online

  Guyon tensed, and Una continued to hold her magic ready.

  For a moment, everyone stood suspended, sizing each other up. Of course, they held the advantage with Una’s magic, but the newcomer didn’t know that. Right now, Una could practically hear the man’s thoughts, considering the threat. Hopefully he wasn’t a Saxon and would see that they were not either, although none of them held any defining characteristics of their nationality.

  Maybe the knight wasn’t a Saxon, but he could be worse. This could be a knight of the enemy. It would make sense, given their proximity to the City of Pride.

  Guyon drew his sword. It wouldn’t be much against a knight with a spear on horseback, but it would have to do. Una readied her magic. She didn’t want to use it against a lone assailant like this, but she would do what she had to. They’d come this far without disturbance and that wouldn’t change if she could help it.

  “Watch over Acrasia,” said Guyon to Una before stepping forward two paces and shouting, “We don’t want any trouble. We’re headed for the main road that passes into the forest.”

  The knight considered them a moment longer. Una wasn’t sure how she could tell, but she was certain that the knight was looking at her, or perhaps at Acrasia. Una stilled herself, waiting.

  “Please,” Guyon continued, “We mean you no harm.”

  Without speaking a word, the knight kicked his horse forward and began racing towards them at a full gallop. His spear lowered, readying it to skewer whoever got in its way.

  Guyon cursed and ran to the side, attracting the knight away from Una and Acrasia. The knight nearly hesitated, his head swiveling to look at both parties before ultimately deciding to follow Guyon, the clear threat.

  Una prepared her magic to stop the knight’s approach, but something tickled the back of her mind. There was something oddly familiar about all of this. It reminded her of the time when she had traveled with George and they had first met Guyon. Back then, Guyon had attacked them in a similar manner as this knight did now, silent and direct.

  She reined the magic in, somewhat. She didn’t want to hurt this person, unless he was a servant of the Seven Sins, but they didn’t know that for sure, yet. Perhaps if she just restrained him.

  Guyon glanced in her direction. “Any time now,” he said, preparing himself to counter the newcomer’s attack. There wouldn’t be much he could do except jump out of the way.

  But Una held off. She was more curious than anything. Why didn’t the knight say anything?

  Guyon lunged out of the way just as the knight reached him, the tip of the newcomer’s spear barely missing his heart. “Una!” he clamored.

  He could survive for the time being. Una’s eyes were elsewhere, searching for potential accomplices, as most servants of the enemy rarely traveled alone. She stretched out her magic, trying to find anyone nearby that could pose a further threat. But there was nothing, only the vague, disturbing feeling that came from the forest. No sign of any enemy, including more Saxons.

  Acrasia remained silent, watching with thinly-veiled boredom. No doubt she knew that Una’s magic could make short work of the knight, and therefore didn’t see this encounter with any more than mild interest.

  “Una!” Guyon shouted again. Una brought her attention back to the battle. As she suspected, Guyon was holding his own, but only barely. Without a horse and spear, he was forced on the defensive. He tried, several times, to get a strike in at the horse, to drop it and rid the knight of his greatest advantage. But he could not get close enough, as the newcomer used his spear expertly to keep him far enough away. Even as Una watched, Guyon fell on his back as he narrowly avoided the knight’s advance

  “Alright, then,” Una called out. “Be patient, now.”

  She stretched out her magic, at last giving it something to do. Her first task was reaching out to the horse, convincing it to stay still. It did so. The knight glanced down the moment he realized the horse wasn’t responding to his command. He kicked it furiously. Well, they couldn’t have any of that.

  Next, Una reached out to the knight and likewise convinced his body not to move. He sat there, atop his horse, completely immobile.

  The knight grunted in her grip, and the sound was pitched higher than Una expected. Was this newcomer just a boy? That would explain why he was a bit shorter than expected, and rash enough to attack them like this.

  “Thank you,” said Guyon, getting to his feet. “You couldn’t have done that sooner?”

  “I was trying to see if there were any others, to make sure this wasn’t a trap,” said Una, folding her arms beneath her breasts. “You’re welcome.”

  “And did you find anything?”

  Una shook her head.

  Frowning, Guyon turned his attention to the new knight still frozen in place above his horse. “And you, I told you we meant you no harm. Why did you attack?”

  “He is a Saxon, is he not?” Una offered.

  Strangely, the knight remained quiet, not saying a word. Guyon glanced at Una. “Are you keeping him from speaking?”

  Una shook her head. “He could if he wanted to.”

  Guyon frowned. “Well, we can start by getting him down off that horse.”

  He stepped forward, taking the spear out of the knight’s hand, and also removing a sword that was strapped along his side. Through her magical connection, Una felt the newcomer struggle, clearly upset that Guyon was taking his weapons.

  Once anything with a sharp point was safely away from the warrior’s grip, Guyon grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him down on the ground. Una felt the knight’s struggle intensify, enough that she almost lost control over him for a moment. Unusual, but she held her ground.

  “Now then,” said Guyon, laying the knight on the ground. “Do not worry, we will not hurt you. But we will need some assurances that you won’t attack us the moment we let you go. We need to pass through this land, and we would ask that you don’t try to stop us. You will not succeed.”

  Still the knight said nothing. Una stepped up next to the pair, bringing Acrasia silently behind her. “Why isn’t he speaking?”

  Guyon shook his head, frowning. “Perhaps we ought to see who we’re dealing with.”

  He brought one hand forward, reaching towards the newcomer’s helmet. Immediately, Una felt him begin to struggle, even harder than before. Una began to sweat. Even Acrasia hadn’t been this hard to restrain once Una had cut her off from her magic. She wasn’t sure she could keep this up forever.

  But she managed to keep the knight still, even as Guyon pulled the conical helmet off the knight’s head.

  Una straightened as the face beneath was revealed. It wasn’t a man, it wasn’t even a boy.

  “You’re a woman,” said Guyon with wide eyes.

  3

  The face that stared back at Una and Guyon was furious. She was probably a few years older than Una, with dark hair that had been pinned up under the helmet, but which now flowed all around her, and would have likely hung well past her shoulders had she been standing straight. Strange, the hair color wasn’t typical of a Saxon.

  “Release me,” she snarled. “How is it you hold me with no bonds?” She had a peculiar accent that made Una furrow her brow. She definitely did not sound like a Saxon, but neither was she a Briton. Una couldn’t quite place it.

  Una stepped forward and knelt next to the woman. “I’m holding you. With magic. I will release you if you promise not to attack us again.”

  The woman hesitated, looking from both Una to Guyon. “You have magic? Like the wizard, Merlin?”

  Una cocked her head, curiously. She hadn’t thought a foreigner would know much of Merlin. Una only knew of him because of what Arthur had told her, and the Faerie Queen as well. The magician wasn’t exactly talked about by most people. So how did this woman know anything about him?

  “Yes, like Merlin,” she said, slowly.

  “We serve the Faerie Queen,” said Guyon. Una’s lip twitched. She didn’t like being
referred to as a servant of Gloriana in any way, but she let Guyon continue. “Does that name mean anything to you?”

  “I have heard of this creature,” said the woman. “A demon of the forest.”

  “She is no demon, but she protects others from demons,” said Guyon.

  “And why do you keep a lady imprisoned,” said the knight. The look she gave them was one of pure indignance. “No woman should be held such.”

  “Is that why you attacked us? Because we had a captive woman with us?” Una smiled slightly in disbelief at the knight’s sense of righteousness.

  She nodded, “It is not right.”

  Una almost chuckled. “You know, under normal circumstances, I would agree with you. But don’t let appearances deceive you, this woman is very dangerous. We’re taking her to the Faerie Queen herself.”

  The newcomer looked at all three of them, and Una was grateful that Acrasia didn’t seem in the mood to say anything. To her, this must all seem like a minor annoyance, to be treated like a damsel in distress, which, in fact, she was. A deadly damsel, but that changed little of the situation’s appearance.

  Una fixed her attention back on the knight. “My name is Una. I guess you could say I’m like Merlin. This is Guyon, he’s a knight of the Faerie Queen. Our prisoner is Acrasia, and I know this might sound unbelievable, but she is one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”

  The newcomer fixed each of them with an intense stare, resting longest on Acrasia. “One of the Seven Deadly Sins?”

  “I was,” said Acrasia, holding her head with as much smug dignity as she could muster, given the circumstances. “But now that role will undoubtedly go to another.”

  Una glanced at Acrasia. She had mentioned as much before, and Una gathered that the power of one of the Sins was somehow transferable, meaning that if one of the Sins died, or lost their power as Acrasia had done, then that power could be conferred on someone else. That did not bode well for them, since every victory they gained against the Sins could, in theory, be for naught. Someone else could simply take up the mantle and continue the fight. They just had to hope that it wasn’t that easy to replace one of the Sins.

  “But you do not travel willingly to see this Faerie Queen?” asked the knight.

  For a moment, a flicker of doubt ran across Acrasia's face. Doubt and, surprisingly, fear. “There is little Gloriana can do that would be worse than the alternative.”

  That fit with what they’d gleaned from her in the past. They knew Acrasia was afraid of someone, but they had yet to discover who.

  The newcomer took all of this in with an increasingly calm expression. The fury that had marked her visage before had subsided. “I am Britomart,” she said in a dignified tone. “You may call me Brit.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Brit,” said Guyon. “Do you promise not to attack us again if we let you go?”

  The knight nodded, and so Una eased up on her magic, but kept it ready to restrain the woman again if need be. Britomart flexed her arms, testing their maneuverability now that she had control again. Slowly, she sat up. “Do not worry,” she said upon seeing each of them tense up. “I have decided not to hurt you. You clearly have a story worth telling. I would be glad to hear it.”

  “We also have places to be,” said Guyon. “We cannot delay long in bringing Acrasia to the Faerie Queen.”

  “Then I will accompany you for now.”

  Una frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I think you might be able to help me find the man I am looking for.”

  “And who is that?”

  “It is a long story,” said Brit. “May I accompany you or not?”

  Una looked over to Guyon. He shrugged, which echoed how she felt. Brit seemed to have a stubborn and perhaps defiant streak to her. Una liked that. The woman reminded her of what she might be like had she become a knight. Add to that the fact that such an encounter was a strange one. She’d never met a female knight before. To her knowledge women weren’t banned from fighting among the Britons, but it was rare enough that most never even considered it. Perhaps this one had an interesting story as well.

  “Don’t try anything foolish,” she said to Brit, holding a hand down so that the knight could take it. “We are more than a match for you.”

  “You, maybe,” said Brit, taking her hand and rising. She faced Guyon squarely. “This one I could knock on his behind like he was a child playing in mud.”

  Una couldn’t stop a sharp laugh from escaping her throat, and she clamped a hand to her mouth at seeing the indignance on Guyon’s face.

  And so they picked up their travels together, with Brit leading her horse alongside them both, though not too close since Una still did not trust her fully. She didn’t want to give the woman too much of an opportunity to attack if they let down their guard. But as they began to talk, she found that the knight was really an agreeable woman after all. She listened intently to their story, laughing heartily when appropriate, but remaining transfixed as they told of what Acrasia had done, and how they had endeavored to stop her.

  “I am sorry that I ever tried to free this one,” said Brit with a glance backward at Acrasia, who still followed with her hands tied.

  “Tell me,” said Guyon. “Your accent, you’re from Armorica, yes? What are you doing so far from your people, and in Saxon armor?”

  Una finally understood where she’d heard Brit’s accent before, and she tilted her head back in understanding. Armorica was across the divide between Britain’s borders to the south and the mainland beyond. It was where many Britons had fled during the worst of the Saxon invasions of the past. No doubt Brit was the daughter or granddaughter of some of those early colonists, which explained why her accent was similar but just slightly different.

  “The armor I took off a Saxon scout to the south. And I may be from Armorica, but I work alone.”

  Una listened carefully for what Brit might say next. Even though she now knew the woman’s origin, there was still something...different about Brit, and she needed to find out what.

  “So why travel this far, then?” Guyon asked again.

  Brit scowled and looked ahead. “It is nothing.”

  “Well now you have to tell us,” interjected Una. “Besides, we’ve told you our story.”

  Brit hesitated, “I search for my true love,” she said after a moment. Una nearly stopped walking. It was not the answer she expected; she hadn’t taken Brit for the romantic type. But what startled her more was the way Brit had said it: hastily and with a hint of disgust in her voice.

  “I...see,” said Guyon, clearly as taken aback as Una.

  Brit gave her horse a soft pat and sighed. “It is not what you think. My father gained possession of a mirror that shows the fate of some who look through it. It showed me that my fate was to marry a man named Artegall, a knight not of our people nor of yours, but of the Saxons. I could hardly bear the shame.”

  Now Una understood. “The shame of marrying a Saxon?”

  “Of marrying a man at all,” responded Brit with some heat in her voice. “That is not the path for me. I will be the greatest warrior who ever lived among my people, and all who claim that women are weak will feel my wrath.”

  The corner of Una’s mouth upturned slightly. She liked this Britomart.

  “Is that why you attacked us?” asked Guyon.

  “No, I attacked because you appeared to hold a lady unlawfully, did you not hear?” Brit scowled at Guyon, who raised his hands defensively and didn’t say a word after that.

  “You just assumed that we held her unlawfully?” Una probed.

  “I hear the people of these lands have committed far worse crimes before, have they not? It is why you persist in conflict against the Saxons.”

  “I…” Una wasn’t sure what to say. “I thought those from Armorica were friendly to the Britons?”

  “Of course you do, because you make assumptions blindly. We do not take sides, unless it is our side. We keep to ourselves.”

/>   “In my experience, there is always something to be learned from every culture,” said Guyon, “and no entire people fits purely into the molds we often set for them.”

  “Shut up, puny knight, no one was asking you,” said Brit. Not for the first time, Una stifled a laugh.

  “So…” she began once she’d recovered her composure, not an easy task. “So you’re looking for this Artegall. Why? To marry him?”

  “Not at all,” replied Brit offhandedly. “I mean to kill him.”

  “O...oh.”

  “If he is dead, then the mirror is wrong, and I can rest easy.”

  “And where exactly did you get this mirror?”

  Brit’s eyebrows furrowed. “My father received it from Merlin in South Wales before he sailed to Armorica, though he did not know its true value at the time. He thought it a great treasure.”

  “What did it show him?” asked Una, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

  “He saw himself becoming the forefather of a great line of kings. Which was a great joy to him, as he has yet no sons.”

  “I see,” said Una. “And that line of kings…”

  “Either come from me, or from another not yet born.” Brit spat. “I told him it was foolish to assume such an artifact was telling the truth, but he insisted that I look. When I did, I saw the same as my father, and I saw the man who was supposed to be my husband.”

  “And now you wish to prove the mirror wrong?” asked Una.

  Brit answered with a nod.

  “Artegall,” said Guyon. “The name actually sounds familiar.”

  “You know him?” cried Brit. “Tell me, feeble warrior, or I will…”

  “I just said his name was familiar,” said Guyon with some hesitation. “I didn’t say I know him. It could be that I encountered him in my travels, but I can’t say when. I haven’t met many Saxons.”

  “Perhaps you can keep working that tiny brain of yours and remember, yes?”

  Guyon met the woman’s eyes, his face clearly expressing his disbelief that anyone would behave in such a way towards him, but he said nothing. It was not in Guyon’s nature to be provoked, but there was certainly no way Una was stopping Brit’s insults. They were far too much fun.