Christmas in Camelot Page 2
King Arthur looked back at Jack and Annie.
“However you have come, you are welcome in my kingdom,” he said. He turned to the queen. “Guinevere, these are the two friends who once gave me hope and courage in a time of need.”
Queen Guinevere smiled again. But there was a sad look in her eyes. “I have heard much about you,” she said.
“I’ve heard about you, too!” said Annie.
“Allow me to present my knights,” said King Arthur. “Sir Bors, Sir Kay, Sir Tristram … ”
As the king named each knight, Jack and Annie nodded shyly. The knights nodded at them in return. Jack waited to hear the name Sir Lancelot, the most famous of Camelot’s knights. But the king never said it.
“And finally, Sir Bedivere and Sir Gawain,” King Arthur said.
The king then turned to three empty chairs at the table. “And there once sat three who are lost to us now,” he said.
Lost how? wondered Jack.
“You may sit at their places and join our dinner,” King Arthur said.
“Thank you,” said Annie.
Following Morgan around the table, Jack read the names carved on the backs of the three empty chairs: SIR LANCELOT, SIR GALAHAD, SIR PERCIVAL.
Jack took off his backpack and sat down in Sir Lancelot’s place.
As he sat tall and straight in the heavy wooden chair, Jack looked at the king and his knights. They were gnawing meat off bones and slurping wine from heavy goblets. They ate without manners or delight.
Jack really wanted to take notes. He reached into his pack under the table and pulled out his notebook and pencil. But before he could write a word, a serving boy brought more food. Jack quickly put his things away. The boy set a greasy slab of beef on a soggy piece of bread in front of him. The food looked terrible.
“Not much of a Christmas feast, huh?” Annie said in a low voice.
Jack shook his head.
Annie leaned close to Morgan and whispered so King Arthur wouldn’t hear. “What happened to the three lost knights?” she asked.
“After Mordred’s Dark Wizard cast his spell, the king sought help from the magicians of Camelot,” Morgan said quietly. “They told him he must send his knights on a quest to the Otherworld, to recapture our kingdom’s joy.”
“What’s the Otherworld?” said Jack.
“It is an ancient, enchanted land beyond the edge of the Earth,” said Morgan. “The place where all magic first began.”
“Wow,” whispered Annie.
“The king chose his three bravest knights to journey there,” said Morgan. “When they did not come back, Arthur turned against his magicians. He blamed magic for all of Camelot’s woes. Hence, he has banned magic of any kind from the kingdom forever.”
“But you’re a magician,” whispered Annie. “Did the king turn against you, too?”
“Arthur and I have a long friendship,” said Morgan. “He has allowed me to stay in the castle as long as I promise not to practice the art of magic ever again.”
A feeling of dread crept over Jack. “So … does that mean the magic tree house is … ?”
Morgan nodded. “Yes. Banished from Camelot,” she said. “I’m afraid this will be your last journey. And the last time we see each other.” Her eyes filled with tears. She looked away.
“What? The last time we see each other? Forever?” said Annie.
Before Morgan could answer, the wooden doors swung open with a bang. A wind rushed through the great hall. The torches and candles flamed brighter, making the shadows leap wildly on the walls.
The sound of hoofbeats filled the room. A knight on a huge horse rode through the arched doorway.
The knight was dressed all in red—from his shining helmet to the long cloak on his back. His horse was dressed all in green—from the armor that covered his head to the cloth that hung from his saddle.
“Oh, wow!” breathed Annie. “A Christmas Knight!”
“I have come to see Arthur the king!” the Christmas Knight said. His deep voice echoed from inside his helmet. His red armor gleamed in the firelight.
King Arthur stood up. He stared fiercely at the knight, but he spoke in a calm, steady voice. “I am Arthur the king,” he said. “Who are you?”
The knight did not answer Arthur’s question. “So. You are the legendary King Arthur of Camelot,” he said in a mocking voice. “And these must be the famous Knights of the Round Table.”
“Yes,” said King Arthur, “and again, I ask: Who are you?”
The Christmas Knight still did not answer Arthur’s question.
“The spell of the Dark Wizard has robbed Camelot of its joy,” said the Christmas Knight. “Has it robbed you and your men of your courage as well?”
“You dare to question our courage?” King Arthur said in a low, angry voice.
“CAMELOT IS DYING!” the Christmas Knight boomed. “Why has no one journeyed to the Otherworld to recapture its joy?”
“I have sent my best knights on such a quest,” said King Arthur. “They never returned.”
“THEN SEND MORE!” thundered the Christmas Knight.
“NO!” shouted King Arthur, pounding his fists on the table. “Never again will I feed good men to the magic and monsters of the Otherworld!”
Jack felt a chill of fear. What monsters?
“Then you choose your fate,” said the Christmas Knight. “If you will send no one else to the Otherworld, all that your kingdom has gained through time—all beauty, music, wonder, and light, all that Camelot has ever been or could ever be—will be lost and forgotten forever.”
“No!” shouted Annie.
“Shh, Annie!” said Jack.
The Christmas Knight turned to the knights at the table. “WHO WILL GO?” he boomed.
“We will!” shouted Annie.
“We will?” said Jack.
“Yes! We’ll go on the quest!” Annie yelled. She jumped up.
“No!” cried Morgan le Fay.
“Never!” said King Arthur.
“Annie!” said Jack. He leaped up from his chair and tried to grab her.
“YES!” thundered the Christmas Knight. He pointed his red-gloved hand at Annie and Jack. “The youngest of all—these two—they will go.”
“You are mocking us!” King Arthur shouted.
“THEY WILL GO!” boomed the knight. His words echoed throughout the hall.
Oh, no, thought Jack.
“Yes!” said Annie. She pulled Jack toward the Christmas Knight.
King Arthur turned to his men. “Stop them!”
Several knights started to rush toward Jack and Annie. The Christmas Knight raised his gloved hand high in the air.
In an instant, the room fell deathly quiet.
Everyone around the table was as still as a statue.
King Arthur looked like the statue of a furious king. Queen Guinevere looked like the statue of a worried queen. The Knights of the Round Table looked like statues of fierce knights.
And Morgan le Fay looked like the statue of a caring friend. Her mouth was open, as if she were calling out to Jack and Annie. But no sound came from her lips—no sound at all.
“Morgan?” said Annie.
Annie ran to the table. She touched Morgan’s cheek, then quickly pulled back her hand.
“She’s cold. She’s as cold as ice!” said Annie. Tears filled her eyes.
Annie turned to the Christmas Knight in a fury. “What did you do to Morgan?” she asked. “Bring her back!”
“Do not fear,” said the Christmas Knight. His voice was softer and kinder. “She will come back to life after you complete your quest.”
“What—what exactly is our quest?” said Jack.
“You must journey to the Otherworld,” said the Christmas Knight. “There you will find a cauldron. The cauldron is filled with the Water of Memory and Imagination. You must bring a cup of the water back to Camelot. If you fail, Camelot will never come back to life. Never.”
“How do we do all that?” as
ked Annie, wiping her eyes.
“Remember these three rhymes,” said the Christmas Knight.
“Wait, let me write them down,” said Jack.
His hands trembled as he pulled out his notebook and pencil. He looked at the Christmas Knight.
“Okay, I’m ready,” he said. Gripping his pencil made Jack feel stronger.
The knight’s voice rang out from inside his helmet.
“Beyond the iron gate
The Keepers of the Cauldron wait.”
Jack quickly wrote down the knight’s words. “Okay, what’s next?” he asked.
The Christmas Knight went on:
“Four gifts you will need—
The first from me.
Then a cup, a compass,
And, finally, a key.”
“Cup … compass … key … . Got it,” said Jack.
The Christmas Knight’s voice boomed again:
“If you survive to complete your quest,
The secret door lies to the west.”
Jack copied down the last rhyme, then looked up at the knight.
“Anything else?” he asked.
Without a word, the knight pulled off his red cloak. He dropped it to the floor. It fell silently into a heap at Jack and Annie’s feet.
The Christmas Knight snapped his horse’s red reins, then galloped out of the great hall.
Once the knight was gone, the candles and torches in the great hall grew dimmer. A bitter chill crept over the room.
“What do these three rhymes mean?” said Jack, looking at his notebook. “Who are the Keepers of the Cauldron? What secret door?”
“I don’t know,” said Annie. “I just know we have to save Morgan.”
She gathered the red cloak up in her arms. “We’ve got our first gift,” she said. “Let’s go.”
“Wait—we should figure this out first,” said Jack.
“No. We should just go,” said Annie. She turned and headed for the archway.
Jack pushed his glasses into place and looked back at the Round Table, at the frozen king and queen, at the frozen knights, and at Morgan le Fay.
He loved Morgan. She was their great friend and teacher. If he and Annie did not go on their quest, Morgan’s story and the stories of Camelot and all the stories about the magic tree house would end forever.
Jack took a deep breath. He put his notebook into his backpack. Then he turned toward the archway.
“Annie?” he said.
She was gone.
“Annie, wait!” he shouted. “Wait!”
Jack ran out of the great hall.
“Annie!”
“I’m here,” she said quietly. “I’m waiting.” She was standing at the end of the entrance hall peering outside.
“How do we get to the Otherworld?” she asked.
“Maybe the tree house can take us there,” said Jack. “Come on.”
Together, Jack and Annie hurried through the inner courtyard of the castle and over the drawbridge. They ran over the frozen ground to the moonlit grove of trees.
Clutching the red cloak, Annie started up the rope ladder. Jack followed. They climbed inside the tree house and sat on the floor.
Annie picked up the Royal Invitation. “Close your eyes. I’ll make the wish,” she said.
Jack closed his eyes. He was shivering from the cold.
“I wish we could go to the Otherworld,” said Annie.
The bare branches of the trees rattled in the wind.
“I think it’s working!” whispered Annie.
The wind stopped blowing.
Jack opened his eyes. He and Annie looked out the window. The dark castle loomed against the sky. They were still in Camelot.
“It d-didn’t work,” said Jack, his teeth chattering.
“Yes, it did!” whispered Annie. “Look down.”
Standing below the tree house was the biggest deer Jack had ever seen. The deer was staring up at them with amber eyes. His huge antlers seemed to glow in the cold moonlight.
Most amazing of all, the deer was completely white, as white as new-fallen snow.
“A white stag!” said Jack.
Puffs of frosty air blew from the stag’s nostrils. He stepped toward the tree house and shook his giant head.
“He’s come to take us on our journey,” said Annie.
“People don’t ride deer,” said Jack.
But Annie had already started down the rope ladder. Jack watched from the window as she walked to the stag and spoke softly. The stag knelt. Annie climbed on his back.
“Come on!” she called to Jack. “Bring the cloak!”
“Okay, okay,” said Jack. He gathered up the heavy velvet cloak. Clutching it against his chest, he climbed down the rope ladder. He hurried over to Annie and the white stag.
“Put on the cloak and climb on behind me,” said Annie.
Jack put the cloak on over his backpack. He pulled it around his shoulders and buttoned it at the neck. As the cloak fell down around his body, the soft, smooth cloth made him feel warm and safe.
“Ready?” said Annie.
“Yeah,” said Jack. He climbed on the stag’s back behind Annie.
The white stag slowly stood up. Annie leaned forward, putting her arms around its neck. Jack leaned forward, too, and held on to Annie. The red velvet cloak draped over both of them, falling past their feet.
The white stag stepped gracefully over the frozen grass. He walked through the outer gate of the castle. He blew out a puff of air, then broke into a leaping run.
Jack held on tightly to Annie as the stag dashed across a frost-covered field. He jumped over hedgerows and stone walls. He bounded across icy streams.
Annie’s braids floated on the wind. The red cloak billowed behind them. Jack was amazed at how easy it was to ride on the stag’s back. He felt calm and safe as the stag sped like a white comet through the wintry countryside.
The stag ran past flocks of sheep and herds of goats asleep in the meadows. He ran past thatched huts and quiet stables.
The stag ran on and on through the starry night. Jack saw a cloud-covered mountain range in the distance. When they came close to the craggy mountains, Jack was sure the stag would stop. But he galloped on—not even breaking his stride as he started up a rocky slope.
The stag finally came to a halt on the ledge of a steep cliff. In a windy swirl of fog and cloud, he knelt to the ground, and Jack and Annie slid off his back.
The stag stood up. He stared down at them with his glowing amber eyes.
“Thank you!” said Annie. “Do you have to leave now?”
The stag lowered his head and raised it again. He blew out a frosty puff of air, then leaped away, vanishing into the mist.
“Bye,” Annie said wistfully. She stared into the mist for a moment, then turned to Jack. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “Let’s read the three rhymes again.”
He reached under the red cloak and pulled off his pack. He took out his notebook and started to read the first rhyme:
“Beyond the iron gate—”
“Jack!” interrupted Annie. “Look!”
Jack looked up. The wind had blown away some of the fog. Beyond the cliff rose another mountain. A huge gate was built into its side. A pale light shone between the gate’s thick iron bars. Two knights in gold armor stood guard under flaming torches.
“Oh, man,” whispered Jack.
“That’s it—the iron gate!” said Annie. “If we pass through that gate, we’ll be in the Otherworld!”
As the wind blew away more fog, Jack and Annie saw a bridge. It was made of thick wooden planks held together with iron bands. It stretched all the way from the edge of the cliff where they were standing to the iron gate.
“Come on, let’s go!” said Annie.
“Wait!” said Jack. “What about the guards?”
The two guards in gold armor stood perfectly still. Their huge spears gleamed in the torchlight.
/> “I don’t know,” said Annie. “Read the second rhyme.”
Jack looked in his notebook and read aloud.
“Four gifts you will need—
The first from me.
Then a cup, a compass,
And, finally, a key.”
“The first gift is the Christmas Knight’s cloak,” said Annie.
“Yeah, I guess it’s supposed to help us somehow,” said Jack.
He unbuttoned the cloak from around his neck. Then he held it out to get a good look at it.
“Maybe it can make us invisible,” said Annie.
“That’s nuts,” said Jack.
“Seriously,” she said, “cloaks sometimes do that in stories.”
“Well, it didn’t make me invisible, did it?” said Jack.
“Maybe you were wearing it wrong,” said Annie. “Give it to me.”
“Oh, brother,” said Jack. But he handed the cloak to Annie. It flapped in the wind as she pulled it around her shoulders.
“Can you see me?” she said.
“Yes, Annie,” said Jack, rolling his eyes. “I can see you.”
Jack looked back at the gate. Even if we get past the guards, what then? he wondered. The Otherworld swallowed up Camelot’s best knights. King Arthur said it was filled with magic and monsters.
“Jack! Look at me now.”
Jack turned to Annie. She wasn’t there.
“Where are you?” he said, staring at the darkness.
“Cool, it works!”
“Where are you?” Jack said again, turning around.
“Here.”
Jack felt a hand touch his face.
“Ahh!” he said, jumping back.
“It’s me! I’m invisible! I pulled the hood over my head. That’s the trick.”
Jack felt a chill run down his spine.
“Oh, man,” he whispered.
“Watch. I’m going to take the hood off.”
In a flash, Annie was back.
“It feels creepy to be invisible,” she said.
Jack was speechless.
“The magic only happens when you wear the hood,” said Annie. “Good trick, huh?”
“Uh—yeah,” said Jack. He shook his head. “This is just too weird.”
“Don’t worry about it being weird. It’s a great way to get past the guards,” said Annie. “Plus it’s a way to hide in the Otherworld. We don’t know what we’ll find there, right?”