The Book of Mordred by Vivian Vande Velde

Author:Vivian Vande Velde [Velde, Vivian Vande]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

CHAPTER 10

If the former prisoners were counting on a fight, the men of Castle Ridgemont didn't seem willing to oblige them. Nimue and her companions made it outside without seeing anyone, which was odd even for this hour somewhere between night and morning. It wasn't until they rounded a corner on the way to the drawbridge that they surprised two fully armed knights headed the same way but coming from a different direction.

Dolph lifted his sword, brandishing it much as a housewife might wave a flail to beat a rug.

The two knights took one look at Nimue, then turned and ran.

"Behind every successful man, there stands a strong woman," Dolph observed, with a wink for Nimue, to show he had no delusions why they had run.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't help but smile. In another moment, the sound of nearby fighting turned the smile to a grimace.

"Hush," one of them said to Boy, who was humming loudly. Then, "What is it?"

Unsure of her voice, she pointed to the left, and up one level. "Sword fight," she managed to squeak. She could hear the distinctive clash of metal on metal. Mordred, she thought, don't get yourself killed now. Lancelot was the most competent knight of Camelot. Why didn't Mordred leave the fighting to him? "Look." She pointed. "The bridge is down that way. If anyone is guarding it..." She looked at Dolph's sword and hesitated.

Dolph grinned. "Don't worry. If worst comes to worst, I'll call out, 'Nimue, get this guard!' and they won't even stop to check if you're really there."

She wanted to hug him, but there wasn't time. She ran in the direction from which she could still hear the metallic clangs. She was dimly aware of shadows that scurried out of her way, but she didn't stop for them.

Mordred and Bayard were fighting on the bastion that overlooked the drawbridge—moving much too fast for her to dare try to intervene with magic. She could hear Sir Lancelot from below, yelling at whoever manned the bridge, demanding entrance.

Nimue stifled a cry for Mordred to look out: He knew what he was doing, and she could prove a fatal distraction.

He ducked the blow, missed an opening that could have ended the fight, but forced Bayard to take a backwards step.

"My Lord, look out!" one of the Ridgemont guards called as Bayard came dangerously close to an open embrasure—a fall to certain death.

That was Mordred's bad luck, but when Nimue heard the sound of running behind her, she whirled around. "Don't move," she warned the knights who were rushing to Bayard's aid.

Their eyes glinted in the starlight as they looked, each to check the others' reactions. One by one their swords lowered.

"Get back. I said back!" She used what Merlin had called his best John Barrymore voice. Whoever John Barrymore was, it worked.

There was a loud screech and thud: the drawbridge. Somehow the inexperienced youths of St. George had accomplished their task. Lancelot wouldn't join the fight, now that Bayard and Mordred had engaged in single combat, but she hoped Lancelot could keep the fight fair.

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