After all, it was a fake fight with blunted weapons… and real animosity. Jordan’s predictable ire was glued to Sir Kay across the divide. Even Lamarack seemed ready to vent a little steam.
“First positions,” Jordan said, overly formally.
“Spread out in a line, matched to your opponent,” Ari translated.
They did as they were told, each fighter paired and separated by a healthy twenty-foot distance. Ari was on one end, with Lam beside her, then Arthur, and finally Jordan at the far side, facing Sir Kay, who’d started a taunting rhythm by clasping his sword against his shield.
They marched toward their opponents. Closer, closer, and finally, Arthur struck the first blow and the fight began in earnest. Ari knew it would be quick. At knight camp, they’d taught dramatic swordplay as a sort of dance. In reality, it was several strict hits, a bevy of countermoves, followed by a sword to the throat or gut.
Swords crashed and cracked. Armor sang with metal howls. And the crowd rolled about in it like dogs in mud. Ari was unsurprised to find that her unnamed opponent was more than good. He wielded two short swords, using them to fork and throw Ari’s blade in the first seconds of the duel. She rolled out of the way, collected her sword, and then sealed herself into a much more aggressive stance. She tangled his blades beneath her arm in two moves, pausing with her pommel about to snap up and into the knight’s exposed neck under his jaw.
He stepped away, dropping his swords. Beaten.
Ari turned back to the fight and found Arthur dueling Galahad with glee—and definitely receiving a boost in confidence and ability from Excalibur that Ari had enjoyed back in the future. Lamarack and Gawain were also having a decent fight, and actually, they were evenly matched. It was all rather unorthodox, though, as somehow they’d both lost their swords and had started to wrestle. But Lam was far taller and stronger, and ended up sort of roosting on Gawain in a way that made the crowd laugh.
Which left Jordan and Sir Kay. The ogre of a knight trundled after her, slamming his sword against hers. He was trying to pummel her into submission—very un-knightlike. Jordan was playing with him. Waiting to strike. She let him swing himself around and around, before knocking him silly and taking his sword in one swift move. The crowd roared with pleasure as Jordan raised her sword in victory.
Arthur flung up his visor with a grin on his red-cheeked face. “We’ve won!”
Ari grasped his forearm and pulled off her helmet, her symbol to Lam and Jordan to do the same—only when they did, the crowd’s riotous cheer divided, shook, and broke.
Their anger at the sight of Ari’s team made her instantly queasy. Arthur looked from Jordan to Lam and winced as the entire tournament ground toward silence. This was no longer a game, if it ever were to begin with. Ari couldn’t imagine what would happen next, but she didn’t have to.
In a blast of darkness, the blue sky was covered by vicious storm clouds. Ari looked around, finding strange, robed figures set around the tournament ring, hands raised as they chanted. People fled while thunder and lightning mangled the atmosphere. Arthur curled up despite his armor, making himself small, and Ari put her arm around him.
“What’s happening?” she shouted over the storm.
“It’s the enchantresses of Avalon!” he said, eyes wide with fear.
From the bottom of the pit, the storm sounded like a great battle overhead. Thunder shook the oubliette, while the lightning could only be imagined through the dark. And yet, after a few intense moments, the storm was gone. As if by magic.
“That’s not quite a good sign,” Merlin muttered—a sentiment only magnified when, not long after, Ari stamped down the stairs above, her words dropping into the oubliette along with hard and heavy breaths.
“Merlin!”
“I’m here,” he called out, sounding young and scared. He’d stopped using magic to cheer up the oubliette the same time Jordan had been let out, which kept him from growing younger while also deeply gnawing at his mental state.
“Arthur just got spanked by Avalon enchantresses in front of Camelot! They came, they chastised, and then boom. They disappeared. Arthur said they do this a lot. That they hate him.”
“Oh, dear.”
“‘Oh, dear’? You said they were in favor of the king. You said they were going to bring him a birthday gift. Small cup, infinite power… does that ring any bells?”
“Technically, I said