“An’ not just in me humble abode,” said Harold, “but in the great church as there be much more space fer a larger payin’ crowd.”

“But, good friends, as I said, I have no knowledge of creating a show. Always it has been my good fortune to have friends who helped to do that part.”

“Then,” answered Harold as he slapped Thomas on his shoulder, “Yee be in good fortune again, Wizard Merlin, as friend Thomas an’ meself wouldst gladly help yee in that respect.”

“An’ me too, sire.”

Merryl turned and saw James entering the room. He held the wreath as he spoke, “Yee did what yee said wizard, an’ Kathrin be sweet on me fer ya magic.”

A smiling Merryl answered, “Friends, if yee be willin’ ta show me the way, I shall perform my magic.” Then taking advantage of the mispronouncing of his name and knowing that there was a magician named Merlin the magician, he added as he looked out the small distorted glass window at the stars, “And from this moment on I be known as Merlin the Magician.”

 

The light of the same stars glistened off Arty as he left the cool water of the small watering hole. He arched and rubbed his back and then threw the large soft towel around himself as he settled on the grass.

“Arty?”

“Who’s that?” said Arty as he pulled the towel tight.

“It’s just me,” answered Jennie as she came out of the shadows of the trees and into the soft moonlight. “I thought you might need this,” she said as she pulled a cork from a stone jar and showed it to him.

“What is it?”

“Smell it,” she said putting it in front of his face.

He took a deep sniff and said, “Wow! That’s nice. What is it?”

“Lay on your stomach and relax.”

“But, ah, I have nothing on beneath this . . .”

“Lay still,” she ordered as she pulled the towel away from his upper back. “Here,” she said as she rubbed a handful of the sweet smelling contents of the jar on his shoulders.

“Oh, man,” he said as he felt the heat of the jell she rubbed on his back penetrate his muscles. “That feels great. Where did ya get it?”

“One of the girls. She used to rub it on one the knights when she was part of his entourage.”

They both were quiet for a while and then she said, “I figured you’d be needing some when I saw you down behind the hill this afternoon.”

“You saw me?” he asked with a shudder she felt through his muscles.

“Yes, and I think it’s very brave of you to do that.”

“Well, when I saw you ride the horse, I figured, maybe I’ll give it a shot too.”

“Well, it’s for sure that Ron is a patient trainer.”

“He’s a good guy and he said he won’t tell anyone about giving me horseback riding lessons . . . or me falling off the horse.” He turned his head and looked at her with a look of awe on his face as he said, “Do you see how big them horses are? I mean, like in the movies the cowboy just jumps on their back and ride away. Well, let me tell you: It ain’t that easy. They are scary!” He put his face back down into his crossed arms and mumbled, “I gotta hand it to ya, Jennie, when I saw you riding that horse I got jealous.”

She slapped his bare back, “Silly! You don’t have to be jealous of me . . . or anyone else for that matter. I took a few lessons from one of the girls and was scared breathless as I rode up that hill to see you guys.”

“Yeah? Well let me tell ya. All those guys were very, very impressed. And so was I.”

“Well, Arty, I think it’s a very good thing that you are learning to ride. Especially if Merryl is right about us staying here.”

“Ah,” said Arty as he started to turn over, “can you rub my chest?”

She slapped his back playfully and said, “I’m only rubbing your back and shoulders because I know you can’t reach there. But I’ll leave the rest of the jell here for you. Good night, Arty, sweet dreams.” Before he knew what had happened she kissed him on his lips and quickly got up. “Do you like the blackberry lipstick? It’s something I made up myself.” She scampered away laughing as Arty tried to coax her back.

“Wait, hey Jennie, ah, c’mon back and finish. My shoulder still hurts like mad,” he said as her laughing trailed off into the night. “Darn!”

 

 

Merlin sat next to Thomas in his wagon the next morning. Harold and James rode in the rear as the two men and boy took the wizard up to the church where he knew history was made when Arthur pulled the sword from the stone. Harold knew the priest in charge of the church and he was more than willing to allow the show to go on, especially when told his church would share in the profits. He was out on an errand but left him the keys to the two massive wooden doors. The building was huge and made of timber and stone with two rows of wooden benches down the center, one hundred on each side of the aisle. At the front was a high stone altar with heavy, dark tapestry hanging on either side of it. Merlin was glad to see that there was a dressing area behind the tapestry where the priest usually dressed and he could set up his toys.

The wizard spent the next two hours planning his great show as Thomas and Harold walked through town shouting of the upcoming magic show. They were happy to find that word of the first show had spread already.

Merlin meanwhile was briefing young James of the certain props he needed and the boy was gathering, baby chicks, a rabbit, five doves and a loaf of bread to be turned into the crumbs or flying spirits. Merlin told the boy only enough to help and never revealed his magic as tricks. The wizard cased the place and made mental notes for the placement of the sword and stone.

Finally, at the end of the lunch hour, the four returned to the small boarding house to await the dark of night and Merlin used the time to set his magic toys up and practice using them.

 

Jennie and the three girls watched as Arty and the Keansburg boys took turns riding the three horses while dressed in full armor. She was secretly pleased to see that Arty was fast becoming a good rider. A boy came running over the hill that separated the camp from the road. He was out of breath when he stopped in front of Arty who had just got of his white horse, Dragon.

“Sire,” he said as he panted. “That way,” he said pointing over the hill, “on yon road. Cometh many folks an’ they be singing songs.”

“Are there knights with them?

The boy shook his head no, and went on, “Methinks not. There be plenty o’ horses but no knights.”

Arty removed his helmet as he said to the group, “It could be a trap of some kind. Maybe the knights removed their armor to get in close amongst us or something.” He thought a moment.

“Keansburg gang, grab some of the guys and go to the other side of the road. It’ll be the ‘sticks and stones’ signal if it goes bad. And guys first ditch the armor. We can get around easier without it.”

The Keansburg gang removed their armor and took twenty of the guys across the hill to the other side of the road as Arty took the rest out in the road to face the new challenge.

“Man, “ said Ron, “as yee say, sire, this be getting old.”

Arty broke up laughing at this and said, “Boy, Ron, ya sure know how ta shock a guy.”

A perplexed Ron stared back and said, “Gadzooks, sire. Thou art steadily saying things ta me that doth baffle me head.”

“Ha,” said Arty slapping his back, “It just means you’re cool and I like that about you.”

Ron simply shook his head in bewilderment.

“There they be, sire,” shouted a boy from up on a tree limb.

Arty nodded as he saw them coming up the dirt road. “Wow!” he said as he shook his head, “There’s got to be a hundred of them and they all seem to be singing. This could get ugly real fast.”

A few minutes later the large group stopped about twenty-feet away from Arty and his gang. A short, stocky boy on a large gray horse raised his hand and waved at them. Arty waved back and the young man got off his horse and stood ten feet away from them.

“Friends, I be Francis of Coppleton. Me an' mine friends heard of yee an’ seek ta speak with ya. Wouldst thou be agreeable to that, friend?”

“I be Arthur of Keansburg and yes, that be agreeable with us, friend Francis. Have yee any knights with you?”

“Nay! They be asleep from much ale they drank last eve. Twas then that we heard of yer group an’ decided ta take leave o’ the scoundrels. Be yee that bunch that sent Sir Grogan back in his sleepwear?”

“Yes,” answered a smiling Arty, “that indeed be us, friend Francis. Come and sit with us over yon hill.” He cupped his hands to his mouth and called out, “Keansburg, all’s well. Come on out.”

There was a rustling behind the new group as the Keansburg gang rose and walked past them and joined Arty and the others.

“Ron,” asked Arty. “Do you think this is on the up and up?”

A slightly perplexed Ron looked at Arty and then said, “Methinks thou doth want ta know be these new fellows friends or foe. Yes?”

“Yes, friend or foe?”

“Ahh, sire, indeed they be friends fer Francis be my cousin an’ never hath such a fine boy been born as he.”

“Well, why didn’t yee say so?”

An hour later Arty, Francis, Ron and the Keansburg boys sat around a fire sipping some cider that Francis had brought along.

“So Francis,” said Arty, “How did yee hear of us and what do they say?”

“Ahh, sire,” he answered, “Sir Grogan told all of his downfall. Said he, that yee breathe fire an’ brimstone an’ that be what made ya so strong. He doth say that ya enticed his pages by gazing inta their eyes and speakin’ enchantments.” He looked at Arty and chewed on his bottom lip as he added, “Ya don’t be breathin’ smoke an’ fire as I kin see.”

“Not all the time,” answered a smiling Arty.

 

Later that evening Bruno sat next to Arty as they ate smoked pork and sipped cider. “Arty, we now have one hundred and ninety-five guys and fifty-two girls not counting us.”

“Any more horses?”

“Yep, all together we have twenty-six horses and eleven wagons plus fifteen more tents.”

“Wow! What’s next?”

“Well, I’ll tell you something funny, Arty. I got me a new rep!”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“They call me the Black Knight!”

“Get outta here!” said a laughing Arty as he slapped Bruno on his back.

“Yep,” Bruno said laughing. “Funny, I have to come all the way to England to get some respect for being Afro-American.”

“Yeah, it’s not like any of us got any respect at Hollin’s House.” He slapped his friend on his back again as he added, “Good for you, Bruno, aka: The Black Knight.” He looked and saw Jennie walking up the hill and he turned to Bruno and said, “Hey Bruno, can ya scoot for awhile? I need to talk to Jennie about something.”

“Heh, heh,” laughed Bruno as he got up, “I bet ya do. Good luck, dude.”

“Aww, get outta here.”

She smiled as she sat next to Arty. “Hi Arty. Have you met all the new kids yet?”

“Not all, but in the morning I will. They seem nice, don’t they?”

“Yes. And there are more girls my age here too.”

“Hey, Jennie, wait here I got something for you. Sit tight.” He got up and ran to the tent and returned with his hand inside his leather jacket. He sat back down and took out a bouquet of wild flowers. “Here! I picked them myself just for you.”

“Well, you better go jump in the lake.”

His face dropped as he said, “Wha? Don’t you like them? I mean you always got flowers in your hair and I thought you might . . .”

“Like them? I do, but some of these are Poison Ivy. So, like I said, you better go jump in the lake.”

He stood and shook his head. “Shoot! I screw up everything! What the freak do I know about Poison Ivory?”

“Ivy, “she said correcting him, with a smile, “Poison Ivy, not Ivory.”

“Whatever.”

“Tch! Come here,” she said standing before him, “Believe me, Arthur, the meaning is not lost on me.” She kissed him and said to his surprised face, “That was Elderberry. Now, go wash off and I’ll massage your back again.”

He ran to the tent, came out with his towel and ran to the lake.

 

 

The sun was just about to disappear behind the hill as Thomas took his seat on the wagon. Merlin sat beside him and Harold and James hopped in the back. They got to the church as a crowd of people streamed up the hill towards them.

“Gadzooks!” said an excited Harold as he set his small, beer keg desk up at the entrance. “It be the whole o’ London comin’ our way!”

“Get them seated, friend Harold,” said Merlin as he headed towards the tapestry. “James, wouldst thou help me an’ become, ‘Helper of the Wizard?’”

The boy’s eyes went wide with excitement as he accepted his role of ‘Helper of the Wizard Merlin’ and quickly followed him.

Thirty minutes later Merlin peeked through the thick tapestry and saw a very full house with standing room only. He also noticed that most of the crowd from last night, including Katherin and her parents, were in the front row. He nodded to James. “James, it be time fer ya ta do yer duty.”

“Yes, my Wizard,” he said as he quickly walked out and went around dousing all the candles and torches in preparation for the show. When he returned to the tapestry Merlin was behind, he placed three lighted candles in front of the spot Merlin would appear at and stepped back, mentally holding his ears as he closed his eyes tight.

Seeing that all the lights were doused and the three candles in front of his appearance section were ready, Merlin said to himself, “Well, Merlin, here we go again. Hope this works as good as it did last night.” He slipped two fingers quickly through the opening in the tapestry and tossed some of his escape powder on the flame. It exploded in a cloud of white smoke and he quickly stepped from behind the dark curtain. The gasp from the crowd told him that to all he had just suddenly appeared before them. As planned his dark clothing against the dark tapestry gave the appearance of a head and two hands floating before them. Once again he used the quietness of the crowd to dictate his starting time and he stood still, eyes closed as he let the flickering light of the candles at his feet play with the shadows on his face. Finally, the beginnings of restlessness told him to begin the show and he snapped his eyes open as he said in a booming voice, “People o’ London, I, Merlin the Wizard welcome yee. Let it be known to yee all that, at times, my very spirit shall pass amongst yee and yee may feel it as it seeks the devil himself in our midst.”

The sudden moving of the audience as they pulled their cloaks tighter about them told Merlin he had them.

“I pray that yee stay in thine seats as I search fer the dark-one meself.” Merlin had instructed James that when those words were used, that was his cue to pull gently on the fishing cord that Meryl had draped over the top of the tapestry. The cord was attached to the candle on the floor in front of him. Hearing those words, James did as he was instructed and the candle seemed to suddenly lift up and float as Merlin waved his hands over it. A woman screamed momentarily and a baby cried as Merlin said, “Spirits! Place yon candle upon the floor and depart this place.” This was the cue for James to gently relax the string and the candle settled back on the floor.

Merlin walked slowly down the three stairs to the aisle between the two rows of benches and stood there before reaching over to a young girl and placing a flower in her hand seemingly from out of thin air. Her friend sitting next to her almost fainted.

“I be Merlin the Wizard,” he said as he performed magic amongst them. “I have traveled all over the world and I know many things. But this I tell you. It be said far and wide that London be the finest town anywhere.” He could feel the sudden pride of the crowd as he used the trick entertainers the world over used, stating that the town or city they were in was the best in the world. It works way back here, too. He thought as he continued pulling flowers and eggs from out of people’s ears, hats and hair while chanting, “Abbra-Ka-Dabbra.”

Knowing that by now James was set in one of the spots he had pointed out earlier, Merlin stopped and suddenly threw his arms in the air releasing a gray dove from his large sleeve. The crowd gasped as the bird’s flapping wings caught air and flew up and away into the night.

“My friends! Do not be afraid as my spirits have just left my body and at this very moment are flying amongst yee.” A sudden yelling and more than a few people jumping out of their seats told him that James had tossed the small, dried breadcrumbs in the right-hand section of the gathering.

“Fear not, friends, as they may touch upon thee and fly away immediately.” Merlin slowly made his way over to the section that had just received the breadcrumb spirits. The magician knew that the entire audience watched his every move, leaving James free to travel over to the left-hand side unnoticed. He plucked a few more flowers and baby chicks from the ears, hair and hats of various people in the audience always combining the trick with magical jargon such as ‘Fee-Fi-Foo-Fom’ and the likes.

When he was sure that James had been given enough time to get in place he stopped and threw his arms up and released the other gray dove into the air as he boomed, “My friends. Once again my spirits take leave of me ta search the night and fight evil.” This time it was a large group of the audience on the left-hand side that jumped and screamed as the stale breadcrumbs bounced off of them and their neighbors. Now Merlin knew he had them all believing in him. He walked over to a thin woman sitting with her husband and pulled a rabbit from his conical hat. “Here, m’am,” he boomed, “For thine next meal.” The crowd went crazy and stood as they applauded him.

Merlin knew it was time to leave them wanting more, but first, he walked back to his spot on the altar, turned and said, “Friends. In ten days time there will appear a stone on this very spot. In that stone shall be a sword. It tis there for all ta try ta remove it from the stone. He who removes the sword from the stone shall be called King of England.”

“Wizard Merlin,” shouted someone from the audience, “Who is this Arthur they say yee speak of?”

Merlin gently stepped on one of the candles and snuffed it out. He did the same to the second one leaving just one lit candle on the floor in front of him, as he got ready for his disappearing act.

“In my dreams I saw a young man called Arthur. He entered this very church and pulled the sword from the stone and the people of London proclaimed him, King Arthur.”

Another from the crowd called out, “Wizard Merlin! May all try ta remove this sword?”

“Yes. I beg yee all ta spread the story ta all parts of London that they may seek ta become king by removing the sword.”

As another man called out a question, Merlin dropped a pinch of disappearing powder onto the lit candle and, with the flash of white smoke stepped behind the tapestry to the gasps of the amazed crowd.

Once behind the tapestry and in the sanctuary it provided, he sat on a bench and rested. As the crowd applauded and whistled, James slid behind the same tapestry and bowed before Merlin.

“Great be thine powers, Wizard Merlin. And I thank yee fer usin’ me fer ya show. So much wouldst I give, good wizard, ta learn thine secrets.”

Merlin sat quiet as he looked at James. Lord, he thought, if James thinks I have great powers and he knows that I used him to help trick the audience, then what do the regulars out there think of me? “James,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees as he sat forward. “Pray tell me, what do the people in the audience think I am?”

“Sire! They think yee ta be a great wizard! An’ right they be, fer ya be a great wizard.”

“And,” Merlin asked, “pray tell, what dost thou think I am?”

“A great wizard, sire. One who knows of what’s ta come!”

“Even though I asked yee ta help me by tossin’ breadcrumbs at them?”

“Master, yee must have yer reasons why ya picked a stupid lad such as meself ta help ya.”

Merlin removed his hat and shook his head as he said, “James, never think of thineself as stupid. For thou be a very smart boy. Did ya not make the audience jump without them knowing twas thou?”

The boy smiled as he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Aye, great wizard. That I did.”

The shuffling outside had almost stopped when Thomas and Harold entered. They both removed their hats and bowed deeply at the waist as Harold said, “Great Wizard Merlin. Never hath I or friend Thomas attended so fine a magician’s show. Tis fer sure that yee be much more than a magic man, an’ the people all say so.”

“Tonight, Wizard Merlin,” said Thomas, “we dine on roast duckling fer ya must be feasted greatly fer thine show.”

“Roast duck?” said Merlin as he stood. “Well friends, I have not had duck in years so it truly shall be a feast.”

 

Later that evening, after they finished the duck and were enjoying a mug of beer, Thomas passed a purse to Merlin and watched as the wizard opened it and saw the coins it held.

“Zounds!” said Merlin, surprising at himself at having picked up the local language so fast, “This be mine, friend Harold?”

“Aye. An’ me an’ friend Thomas have the same, as does the priest. Tis a fine show ya did an’ many more folks will come fer the next one.”

“Well,” said Merlin as he removed half of the coins and placed them in front of James. “These be thine, James, as yee helped me put magic on the crowd an’ I couldst not have performed so well without yee.”

The boy’s eyes bulged as he looked at the coins and then at his father. “Father! Might I keep these?”

“Son James, if Wizard Merlin says yee helped an’ he wishes ta pay thee, then yes, the coins stay with yee.”

The boy stood and bowed to Merlin. “So many thanks ta yee, Wizard Merlin. Never hath I held so many coins at once.”

“I have one request fer yee, James. Tomorrow morn we take thee ta a cobbler an’ get thee some shoes.”

“Thy wish be done, sire,” answered the boy.

Merlin turned to the two men and said in a gentle voice. “Friends Harold and Thomas. I fear that I must leave London for a spell. But, I shall return in nine days an’ may possibly seek yer help fer another show.”

“That be fine by my account, great wizard,” said Thomas as he looked at Harold.

“Mine also, Wizard Merlin. An’ I will gladly help thee with thine show as will young James.”

Merlin smiled. “About young James, friend Harold. I have instructed the boy in some of my magic an’ if ya agree, I will teach him all I know. But, to do this he must travel with me as my apprentice. An’ as yer can see, he shan’t want as I can always place coins in his hands an’ food in his belly.”

Harold’s eyebrows arched in thought for a moment then he answered, “He be me oldest boy an’ I have a closeness ta him, specially since his ma be dead. He works like two boys fer me an’ it doth hurt ta see him so weary at evening time. Me thinks that bein’ with ya be good fer the lad an’ as yer willin’ ta teach him yer trade, I be foolish ta say no.” He looked deep into Merlin’s eyes and asked, “Will ya take him away an’ never will I place me eyes on him again?”

“No never! I will travel with him, friend Harold, but always shall we return to London, for as I said, it be the greatest city in the world.”

Harold looked at James and asked, “Boy, if’n ya say no, it be no. But if’n ya say yes, I be proud ta make ya the apprentice of this fine Wizard.”

“Oh papa. I say yay! Fer ta learn his trade wouldst bring honor fer our family.”

“Then, Wizard Merlin,” said a proud father, “it be yes! Young James is ta be thine apprentice.”

They shook hands as Merlin said, “First, then, I wouldst teach young James ta read an’ write.”

They all touched mugs and finished their drinks before retiring.

 

The next morning saw James sitting high on a horse with Merlin sitting behind him. Thomas and Harold stood in the street as they wished them goodbye.

“He be known as Spike,” said Thomas as he patted the horse’s head. “He be gentle an’ eats grass so ya shan’t be needin’ oats fer him.”

“Again, I thank yee,” said Merlin as he sat unsure behind the boy.

“By noon today,” said Harold, “I shall find a new steed fer friend Thomas an’ his wagon. Now,” he said as he grabbed the boy’s hand, “take care an’ mind yer manners, James.”

James just nodded, as he didn’t want to cry.

“Good friends,” said Merlin, “best we be off so as ta catch as much of the sunlight as we might.”

The boy gently nudged the horse in the sides wearing his new, leather tie-up shoes and they started their journey back to camp.

 

The scream sent chills through the camp as they were eating their morning-meal.

“Tis Kennith,” shouted a young girl, “He went ta gather berries fer morning-meal an’ he must be on the road.”

Arty jumped out of his tent and said to Bruno and Ron as they ran to the road on the other side of the hill, “I knew this was the most vulnerable time of the day . . . no one is watching the road yet. Darn!”

He reached the road and saw a large group of boys and girls just standing and watching a knight on his horse beat the small boy who tried to run but was continually cut off by the knight’s maneuverings. “Dost thou think me ta forget thou belongest ta meself, Kennith? Dost thou like ta feel the side o’ me blade?”

He slapped the boy on his back with the flat of his blade and shouted, “Get thee up and follow me back ta Surry, ya peasant.” He looked at the group and said, still in his wrestler’s voice, “An’ who be yee, dolts? Pray tell where be thine masters? Ya be some o’ the ragamuffins what robbed Sir Grogan’s horse and supplies?” He moved closer to them and went on menacingly, “Methinks thou art the very same ragamuffins what did.” He pointed his sword and went on, “In line, all o’ yee. We set off fer Surry an’ I wouldst sell ya all.”

“Hey! Who the heck do you think you are?” The crowd of teens and the knight turned to see Arty run onto the road. He was dressed in his jeans, tee shirt, motorcycle boots and jacket. He walked up and stopped just outside of the range of the knight’s sword and said in his wrestler’s voice, “Fight me, if thou dare.”

“Who be thou?” Asked the knight as he raised his visor to better see his new foe.

“I be Arthur of Keansburg and I challenge yee.”

“Ha! Pray yell, where be this Keansburg? Never hath I heard of such a place, nor of thou.”

“Then yee be the first ta hear o’ me but not the last for mine plan is ta end thy rein.”

The knight squinted as he stared at Arty and Arty thought, He needs glasses! But, there are no glasses yet. “Will thou be known as the knight who wouldst turn from a challenge?”

“Ha! Turn away from thou? And pray tell, where be thine armor?”

Arty walked back and forth, “Leave thy horse and fight me where I stand.”

“Leave my horse? On what account wouldst I leave my horse?”

“On account of, if thou doth not, thou shall be forever known as Sir Coward.”

“Zounds! This be unholy!” He looked down at Arty and said, “For thine blasphemy, I shall deal yee with a mortal blow. Ask not for mercy, dolt.” He dismounted and stood stiffly with his sword still drawn.

“Thou chooses ta fight me in thine armor? Be thou the coward thou looks ta be?”

“What wouldst thou have me do, dolt? Strip off mine armor?”

“Yes! Then we will have a fair fight else thou be nothin’ but a coward.”

“But,” said the knight clearly upset, “This is how we deal with louts such as thee.”

“So,” egged Arty as he kept walking back and forth making the knight keep on moving in order to keep Arty in front of him, “If I be such a lout why not meet me on even terms? Keep thy sword and fight me without armor. See,” he said showing him his bare hands, “I have no weapon.”

The man was beside himself and looked about not sure what to do.

Arty, sensing the man’s problem, said, “Kennith, wouldst thou be so kind as to help sir knight out of his armor so he can give me a thrashing?”

“Sire,” the boy answered, “if it be thine wish . . .”

The man roared, “If it be his wish? Boy, thou art mine and I demand that thou help me remove my armor. Straight away, boy!”

Arty smiled to himself as the man was stripped of his armor and finally stood before him holding his sword with both hands. He was better built than the other knights Arty faced and seemed lighter on his feet.

“Prepare to meet thy maker, lout.” He started to walk around to Arty’s left-hand side. Arty took out a cigarette and lit it. The knight stopped in his tracks as smoke left Arty’s mouth in a stream. “Thou…thou dost be the devil himself. Sir Grogan said yee were him.”

Arty took two steps forward and said, “Fool! Think yee that I need a weapon for the likes of thou? Drop thine sword and run lest I smite thee and place thy soul in Hades this very day.”

The man quivered and Arty, seeing his chance, threw his cigarette at him. The knight dropped his sword as he dodged the smoking butt and Arty ran at him. He head-butted the man in his stomach and was surprised as the man quickly recovered and grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in his stomach. Arty fell and rolled as the man tried to kick him. He sprang to his feet and they squared off. Arty faked a rush and the man dropped in a squat before coming up. He suddenly had a small dagger in his hand and said with a grin, “Prepare to die, lout!”

He stepped forward and Arty took a slice across his arm before catching him with a right cross to his chin. The man dropped and this time he didn’t get up.

Arty stood panting over him, blood running down his arm. The man started to get up when Jennie and three girls ran out and smacked him a few times with long, wooden staffs.

“Wenches! Stop I demand. Know thine place in life.”

Jennie walked over and pushed the dagger she picked up against his throat. His face showed fear as he said, “Woman! Know thee that mine dagger be sharp?”

“Oh, I know that it’s sharp, butt-wipe! And let me tell yee this. Should yee ever come back this way I’ll turn yee into a purse with this very dagger. Got it?” The man didn’t answer he just nodded. “Oh,” she said continuing, “don’t forget to tell all your friends that you were beaten by a knight who didn’t need a weapon to best yee.”

“Also,” added Arty, “don’t forget ta tell all your friends that a woman turned your own dagger on you. Now get out of here, shemp.”

The man stood and walked to his armor. “Kennith, help me dress.”

“No,” said the boy. “For thine armor and horse belong ta Sir Arthur now.”

The man turned and said to Arty, “Tell this peasant ta help me dress and get up on mine horse. Thou besting me be ours alone and mine armor be not part of the battle.”

“Wrong again, dude. The armor now belongs to Kennith, and until he can fit into it, the armor belongs to the pretty lady who bested yee.”

He turned the man around and kicked him in his butt as he said, “Get outta here, butt-head. Go an’ join Sir Groggy.” The crowd roared their approval as he hobbled down the road he came from.

Jennie went and wrapped her long skirt around his wound. Next she put some salve on it that one of the girls had supplied. Arty called a meeting for everyone to attend after the noon-meal.

 

Everyone was sitting in a circle around Arty, except for Bruno who was watching the road. It seemed that even the birds hushed to hear what Arty had to say as he walked around the small clearing the circle of boys and girls provided. He stopped and looked out at them.

“Thanks for showing up, gang. We needed this sit-down to get some things straight here.” He watched as he saw what Jennie had predicted would happen: Some kids understood him while others didn’t. Knowing that, Arty took his time as the ones who understood him, interpreted his meaning to the others.

“If everyone here understands that we are one, and that we need to stick together as one, we will be unbeatable! Our motto is, ‘In unity there is strength.’” He looked around and saw the meaning sinking in with the group.

“This morning when Kennith was attacked, I saw many of you just standing there watching. You watched as one of our own was in trouble! This will never happen again, I promise you. I realize that you all have been told what to do your entire lives and never really had to think for yourselves, but now things have changed, and they changed for the better. I really believe that we are on a quest and we must stick together.” He stopped and raised his arms as he said, remember, ‘One for all and all for one.’”

The crowd roared its approval as Jennie walked over to Arty and whispered, “Hey Arty, ‘One for all and all for one’ is from the Three Musketeers.”

Arty shrugged and said, “So what? If Merryl is right and we’re back in time, it’ll be us saying all the good stuff first. Who’s gonna stop us?”

She smiled and they walked back to their tent as the sounds of the kids going about their tasks started up again.

 

That evening the original Keansburg gang sat with Arty and they performed ‘spoken-word-Rap’. All was peaceful as the others in camp played their instruments and sang the songs they grew up with.

“Hey, Arty.” called Garret. “What’s up? You seem far away tonight dude?”

Arty shook his head, “I don’t know. I just have this feeling that all of this might change real fast. I mean, what if instead of one or two knights coming along, there are ten or twenty? Man, that’d put a damper on this gig real fast.”

“Well,” said Percy as he dropped a chicken bone onto his wooden plate and wiped his greasy hands in the long grass, “I guess we got to fight them.”

“Man,” answered Gerry, “That’s a tall order even for us, dude.”

Delvlin chimed in with, “Yeah. Maybe we should make some kind of weapons?”

“We got weapons,” said Lucas.”

“Not enough,” put in Garth as he pushed back his long blond hair.

“Hey,” said Arty real slow as he wagged a finger, “What if we did make some weapons?”

“Ya mean like, guns?” asked Triston.

“Naw,” chimed Arty as he shook his head. “We don’t have gun powder and stuff. I mean like modern day stuff. Ah, I mean like our day stuff.” He looked at Garret and said, “Hey Garret. Weren’t you into science and stuff?”

“Uh huh,” answered Garret as he shook his head yes. “But we don’t have any chemicals and stuff here.”

“Listen, why don’t you catch up with me in the morning and we can brainstorm. Okay?”

“Sure Arty. I’ll see ya right after breakf, ah, I mean morning-meal.”

The crowd started to break up when Jennie said to Arty, “Okay, Arthur, it’s time for me to change your bandage.”

“And,” he whispered, “maybe get to check out the lipstick flavor of the day?” He ducked her attempt to hit him with a dishcloth.

 

The sun was also going down as James and Merlin warmed up some of the chicken and bread rolls they brought along with them. They sipped the cider Harold gave them and talked long into the night as Merlin tried to explain to the young boy that ‘Abbra-Ka-Dabra’ really meant nothing at all.

 

The sun was high and morning-meal was finished as Garret came up the hill to Arty’s tent. He watched as Arty pranced around on top of his white horse, Dragon. “Hey Arty,” he called out as he approached, “You got pretty good at riding.”

“Yeah, I’m getting’ the hang of it,” he brazenly tried to do a quick dismount and ended up on the ground with one foot stuck in a stirrup. “Of course, at times I still fall off this huge animal.”

Ron ran to his side and helped him up as he told him what he did wrong.

“I know, I know,” said Arty rubbing his shoulder as he spotted Jennie watching. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Jennie. And I hope you remember that, if I need a shoulder rub later.” Her smile told Arty that she believed him.

Garret asked, “Arty, you still want to learn some science stuff?”

“Me? Learn science stuff?” Arty shook his head and went on, “No way, dude. I wanted to tap your mind. That’s all.”

A sudden shout echoed through the camp, “Horse and riders coming!”

Arty grabbed his jacket and joined the others running down the hill to be able to see the road. “Which way?” he asked one of Ron’s crew who was doing lookout duty up a tree.

“That way, sire. There be two riden’ one horse.”

Arty and the group hid in the trees and bushes off the road. The two came down the road from the opposite direction that the traffic usually came from. A big grin came across Arty’s face as he shouted, “It’s Merryl! Hey guys, it’s all right I know him.”

Hearing the shouting, James started to turn the horse around when Merlin said, “Fear not, James. They be my friends an’ the shouts be shouts of joy!”

Very soon smiling boys and girls, all asking questions at the same time, surrounded Merlin and James.

Holding up his hands, Merlin said, “Please! Please! One at a time, but first,” he said patting the boy on his head, “This be James an’ I be proud ta say James be my apprentice! What think yee of that?”

“James,” said Jennie making the boy feel at ease as she helped him down off the horse, “I be Jennie an’ a good friend of Merryl.”

“Uh,” said Merlin, “It’s Merlin and I’ll explain later. But first I simply must bathe and change. I also need the young ladies who made this fine garment for me as I have a few alterations I need made.”

Arty slapped Merlin on his back, “Merlin! Man, it’s great to see you again. I got so much to talk to ya about.”

“And I, you, Arthur,” said Merlin as they walked up the hill to Arty’s tent.

Two hours later Arty sat with a refreshed Merlin now attired in his clean work clothes, his hair wet and tied back. They both were eating roast pork and drinking cider as Jennie oversaw James as he tried on new, clean clothes.

“So,” asked Arty, “where is this sword in a stone?”

“Therein lies the problem, Arthur. It must be fabricated.”

“Fabricated? You mean like, made?”

“Yes, made,” said Merlin. “As I said earlier, some memories seem to take their time coming back to me and I suddenly remembered the fable of the sword in the stone. It turns out that none other than Merlin the Magician brought the stone to the church in London for all to try their luck at removing the sword!”

Arty asked, “But, does that means that we have to build one here?”

Merlin nodded. “Yes, but after seeing those boys use their hands, I have no doubt that if they follow my directions we can build it.”

“Build it and they will come,” said Arty as he shrugged his shoulders. “Merlin, it’s just like they said in that movie, ‘Build it and they will come.’ So what if they do come and one of them removes the sword from the stone and not me?”

“That’s not supposed to happen, Arthur.”

“Who says?” asked Arty with open hands. “I mean if there really was a King Arthur and he took the sword from out of the stone, why do you think I should do it? Why not just wait until this other Arthur guy comes along and pulls it out?”

“And,” said Merlin, “What if there is no other ‘Arthur guy’? What if somehow it was destined for us all to come back here and become King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table?”

“But, how could that be? I mean, if that Arthur dude lived and you read about him, how could he be me? I mean I was born years after he lived . . . and died, too, I might add.”

Merlin stood and said as he shook his head, “Arty, I don’t pretend to know all the answers, but I do know this: Since I’ve become Merlin the Magician, I’ve started thinking differently. I seem to know some things before they happen.” He suddenly stopped and pointed at Arty as he said, “Now, I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say that there are those who have a theory that all of mankind has a sixth-sense which we stopped using years ago as times got better, and maybe being sent back here has awakened it in me.”

“I was gonna say that?” asked a perplexed Arty.

Merlin grinned as he answered, “Well, maybe something along those lines. But the point is: If I’m changing into the storybook Merlin the Magician, perhaps we all are changing in order to fulfill what history said happened all those years ago.”

Arty scratched his bandaged arm as he said, “Well like you said, all of our names seem to fit the history-book characters.”

“So, Arthur, as I said, it truly is London of five-hundred and sixty. And if we go along with this theory of Arthur removing the sword from the stone, you will become king, and we will have some big fights with others who do not accept you as king.”

“Big fights? Man, Merlin, we can’t fight these guys on their terms.”

“I know, Arthur and I must admit that I am perplexed about this.”

Arty chewed the inside of his cheek as he said, “Hey Merlin, this is kinda funny because I was just talking to Garret about using science as a sort of weapon. Isn’t that weird?”

A knowing smile came across Merlin’s lined face as he said, “Weird? Or perhaps you too are changing? Perhaps you are becoming the wiseman that history says King Arthur was?”

“Me? A wiseman?” Arty laughed, “Dude! I don’t think so.”

“We shall see, Arthur. We shall see. Now I need to get some of the stonemasons together for a conference.”

They went down the hill to the various groups.

 

Merlin sat in his tent with Arty, Ron, Jennie and six boys aged from thirteen to seventeen whose training had been in iron working. He leaned on a small, three-legged table and drew on a sheet of yellowed, parchment paper using a long, feathered quill pen, which he dipped in a jar of ink. There was a sword lying on the desk and the boys sat and looked at the diagram as he explained.

“Boys, what I’d like is to have you attach a nipple as close as possible to the sword’s hilt.” He drew the sword and pointed to the spot he wanted to receive the nipple.

“Wizard Merlin,” asked Edward, one of the iron workers, “What be a nipple?”

“Ahh, think of it as a pimple. Canst that be done?”

“Aye,” said the boy, “we wouldst need ta build a furnace.”

“But,” answered a second boy, “Not a large furnace an’ that be in me training, so it shall be done, wizard.”

“Now,” said Merlin, “here be the tough part. We need a stone ta stick the sword in.”

“But,” asked Edward, “it cannot be done, wizard. Fer the sword wouldst break before the stone opens ta allow it ta enter.”

“What I’m hoping for, boys,” said Merlin, “is that we find a large stone that has a deep crack or hole in it already. A stone with an opening that we can place the sword in all the way down to the hilt.”

The boys all looked at each other as Edward said, “That could be done, great wizard an’ we can chisel the hole ta accept the sword.”

“Next,” continued Merlin pointing to a sketch of a stone with a cut-away view showing the deep hole for the sword, “we notch a hole at the top of the stone that allows the nipple or pimple to stick into.”

“But,” asked the smallest boy, “wouldst not the pimple in the notch stop the sword from being removed, my wizard?”

“Exactly!” said Merlin. “Can this be done?”

“Easily,” said Edward, “it be finding the stone that we needest luck. But,” he continued, “we shall show these plans ta the groups an’ they shall all search fer thine stone, great Wizard Merlin.”

“Then,” said a happy Merlin as he spread his arms wide, “we are set.”

“Sire,” asked Edward, “when doth thou needest all completed?”

“Oh, say, five days?”

He nodded. “Yee shall have it, Wizard Merlin.”

As they walked back to their tent, Merlin handed Arty some seeds. “Arty, place these on top of your head for a second.”

Arty looked at the seeds, “Put them on my head? What for?”

“Just do it and I’ll show you.”

Arty shrugged his shoulders and placed the few seeds on top of his head as Merlin walked about twenty feet away. The magician turned and faced him. With a smile he said, “Abbra-Ka-Dabra,” and threw his arms up in the air. Suddenly out of nowhere a gray dove flew from the wizard straight towards Arty’s head. The bird landed on his head and ate the seeds then flew off and out of sight.

“Wha-what was that about?”

“Just a little trick I taught, Arrow.”

“Arrow?”

“Yes. My gray dove. He is trained to fly from me in a straight line to find the seeds I placed somewhere out there.”

“How are ya gonna use him?”

“Not sure,” answered the magician as the bird returned, “but it could come in handy some time.”

 

That evening as they ate, Arty and Jennie asked Merlin to tell them all he remembered about the fable of Arthur and his court.

“I’m afraid that my memory comes in spurts. And, although it seems to be getting better, I’m afraid that maybe I’ll leave something out that might need to be addressed right away.”

“Well,” asked Jennie, “you seem to be pretty sure about the next week or so. I mean, the sword and stone thing.”

“Maybe that’s because it’s so important?” said Merlin. He rubbed his eyes and said, “There are some things I remember, but I’m not sure it’s right to tell you.”

“You’re not sure?” asked Arty. “Merlin ya gotta tell us all you know. I mean, what if you forget before you tell us?”

“I dunno, Arty. Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Hey! Is it something bad? I mean like do we die or something? You really need to tell us.”

“Merlin,” said Jennie in a soft voice. “Arty is right. You said yourself that you’re not completely sure of your theory. So pretend that you’re just telling us the story of Arthur and his court.”

Merlin breathed deep and exhaled long and slow before he said, “Okay. You might be right and I really have no right to hold back any information that might help you survive this time.”

He sat forward and, with his elbows resting on his knees, made a steeple out of his fingers and rested his chin. “First of all, King Arthur married Guinevere.”

Jennie’s eyes lit up and she blushed as she looked at Arty who had a smile on his face.

“However,” continued Merlin as he shook his head in his hands, “One of the knights of your Round Table has an affair with her.”

“What?” said Arty looking at him, “Who is it? Who would hit on my girl?”

“I-I’m not sure, Arty, it’s vague at this moment.”

“Horsecrap, Merlin. You know who it is, now tell me.”

“Arty,” said Jennie, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Wha-what’s that?”

“I would have to agree to have an affair and that’s something I’d never do.”

He stepped over and took her hands in his. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked back at Merlin and said, “But I still want to know who it is.”

Merlin looked at him. “Would it change anything if I told you?”

Arty nodded and said, “Yes, it would. But not by me being angry with the dude. It’d change because I’d have a talk with him before time, and let him know that I know because I read it in a history book.”

“And,” said Merlin with a smile, “you think that you are not changing?”

Arty asked in a perplexed voice, “Why do you think I’m changing?”

“Because,” Jennie said as she squeezed his hands, “not so long ago you would have wanted to know so that you can beat him to a pulp.”

Arty smiled as he said, “Yeah, I guess you could be right. I might be changing . . . a little.”

“Perhaps us knowing a little of the future helps us prevent fighting amongst ourselves, Arthur,” said Merlin. “So, the man who had an affair with Guinevere was Sir Lancelot.”

“Lance!” said Arty as he looked into Jennie’s eyes. “Do you still feel that you could shrug him off? I mean, he is a good looking guy, after all.”

“First of all, Arthur,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, “Lance is two years younger than me and second of all, I’m not attracted to blond haired guys. You should know that by now.”

“Okay, Queen Jennie.”

“Actually, Jennie is a nickname. My real name is Genevive.”

“Boy,” said Arty as he shook his head in bewilderment, “Merryl, or rather Merlin, like you said, all of our names fit perfect for your theory. I guess I hafta think the same way too.”

“Yes,” said Merlin, “especially if we are to survive. You know, Arthur, this time period is a harsh one and we would really have no chance of making it if we didn’t sort of know what was going to happen and capitalize on it.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right, Merlin. We better toe the line and be ready for anything. Do you now what happens after I become King?”

“Well, we go and sort of set up shop in a castle called, Camelot. That’s where the Round Table will be and it becomes your home.”

“What about Bruno, Triston and the other guys?”

“From what I remember we all live there together. It seems to become your base of operations.”

“We get to live in a castle,” said a smiling Jennie.

“Well,” said Arty matching her excitement, “I will be King, and a king needs a castle.”

“And I,” she reminded him, “will be Queen.”

“Well, yeah,” he said, “that goes without saying. And you better stock up on those berries too.” Her nudge made him flinch as he yelped, “Ouch! You hit my wound!”

Jennie rolled her eyes.

“So,” Arty asked as he rubbed his arm, “what do you think the next step is, Merlin?”

“When the sword and stone are completed I’ll brief you on my design and how to remove the sword from the stone.” The tall man stood and started to pace as he rubbed his hands in thought. “I’m not sure about any fights that are coming up, Arthur, but I know that while most of England accepts you as king, there are a few who do not, and they need to be put in line.”

“Mmm, I was having a meeting with Garret when that knight started to beat up on one of the kids and we got off track.”

“How can Garret help us if there’s a fight?”

“He’s like a science whiz and I thought maybe we could be ready if a lot of knights come along at once.”

“Arthur, I think you are on the right track. And I might have a few tricks we can use too. I suggest we have a meeting and invite all the kids. This way we can interview each of them and find out their specialties and we can go from there.”

“I’ll set up a meeting for right after tomorrow’s morning-meal. Okay?”

“Good with me Arthur. I’ll see you for breakfast . . . I mean morning-meal.” He walked down the hill as Arty stood and arched his back.

“Oww,” he said to Jennie who was picking up the wooden dishes, “My shoulder sure does hurt from when that stupid horse threw me today.”

“Well, Mister King Arthur,” said Jennie as she shook her head, “I just might have some of that pain-removing jell left. Think that would help?”

“Oh, I do, Jennie, I really do.”

She placed her hands on her hips and looked into his eyes and said, “First you have to promise me something.”

“Sure, anything. What is it?”

“Stop smoking.”

He grinned. “That’s it? Just stop smoking?”

“Yes! It’s not only a disgusting habit but it can destroy you.”

He shrugged and said, “What if I told you that I really don’t smoke? I mean, I light up and drag on it, but I’m sorta just kidding around and not really inhaling.”

Her eyebrows arched. “But why?”

He shrugged again and kicked a pebble as he answered, “It’s kinda like, the guys think it’s cool.”

She covered her moth. “What! You mean you are playing with cancer to impress the guys?”

“Aww, it’s not like that, it’s just that, well, they’re not even mine. I took them from Mister Grinnel.”

She arched an eyebrow, a move that let Arty know she was more than a little serious as she said, “Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“Okay, okay, but let me ask you this. When we meet bad guys, doesn’t it impress them?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Well, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll only light one if I think we need to scare the bad guys.”

She pondered this and he went on. “Besides, I only have a few left. So, it’ll be for an emergency only. Okay?”

“I guess.”

“So, then you’ll fix my shoulder?”

She rolled her eyes and he knew her answer. They walked towards the tent, giggling.

 

Soon after morning-meal, Arty, Jennie, Merlin and Garret sat in the tent. Both ends were open allowing the warm morning sun and breeze to enter as well as the boys and girls who had formed a long line in front. By the time they had all been interviewed it was mid-day mealtime and the smell of roast pork, rabbit, chicken and baked bread wafted throughout the camp.

The four interviewers ate at a table set up outside of the tent. Merlin studied a long roll of parchment paper and nodded every so often at a notation he had put down.

Ron served cool cider and as they sipped it from wooden cups Merlin said. “Well, according to our interview we have thirty-two ironworkers, twenty-seven cooks, sixteen stone workers, sixteen artists, thirty-two wood workers, twenty-nine seamstresses, fifteen troubadours, twenty-two acrobats and the rest are horse handlers and farmer workers. Oh, and all of them can ride a horse and shoot an arrow.”

“I think we do have the makings of some sort of a defense complex,” said Arty.

“Hah!” laughed Merlin. “And what do we give them? Orders for tanks and airplanes?”

“How about flying lanterns?” asked Garret.

“Flying lanterns?” asked Merlin. “What’s that?”

“The Chinese used them for celebrations for hundreds of years.”

“So,” asked Jennie, “how do we use them?”

“You mean,” asked Arty, “when we defeat someone we use them to celebrate?”

“No,” continued Garret as he took the quill off the table, dipped it in the jar of ink and started to draw on the parchment. He explained as he drew, “If we created a square framework of sticks and wrapped it with some light-weight parchment paper but left the bottom open, we could place a small candle on the bottom frame and it becomes a lantern. But when we light the candle, the lantern rises.”

“Why does it rise?” asked Arty as he studied the drawing.

“The heat.” answered Garret, “The heat from the flame of the candle warms the air inside of the lightweight box, making it float up.”

“And,” said Jennie as she caught on, “if we do that we could scare the heck out of someone in this time period. Right?”

“Right,” said Garret.”

“Then,” added Arty, “If we did it at night, the glow from the candle will scare them even more. Right?”

“Right, Arty.”

“And,” continued Arty; “if we launch hundreds of them at night we’d really scare the heck out of them.”

“You got it, Arty.”

“Physiological Warfare Weapon number one,” added Merlin as he wrote it down.

“Well,” added Jennie as she took the quill, “we have so many acrobats here who can walk on stilts, what if we had them walk on stilts that had lit, carved pumpkins on the top of each stilt? In the dark they would look like tall demons coming at them. And if they wore long, white gowns they’d look like giant ghosts from a distance.”

Merlin said as he scratched his beard, “Hey, I have an idea too. When I was a kid we used to fly kites. What if we made large kites out of parchment paper, tied lighted candles enclosed in a parchment box like Garret spoke about to their tails, and flew them at night? We’d have instant flying demons. Boy, that’d scare the heck out of anyone.”

“And,” added Jennie, “if we have the artists paint demon faces on the kites and fly them in the day, it would be like someone called the devil to fight against them.”

“The cooks,” said Merlin in thought, “I’m sure they have some sort of baking powder and if I needed to appear and disappear that’d make a pretty good smoke screen.”

“Listen,” said Arty. “If we had the baking powder and placed some in small bags made of parchment, we could tie it to the kites and just pull a second string to release them. The bags of powder would fall and open in a puff of smoke among the bad guys. At the very least it’ll scare their horses.”

Merlin rubbed his hands together. “I’ve got a great idea. I’m going to ask the cooks to empty their eggs by just making a small hole in the top. Then I’ll let the empty eggshell dry and fill it with flour. Lastly, I’ll melt some candle wax over the hole and seal it. Presto! I have instant disappearing powder in an egg. Just drop or toss it and I can appear or disappear in the smoke screen.”

“I do believe we have a weapons cache,” said Arty nodding his head.”

“Next, we get the various teams together and produce them,” said Jennie. “And if you want, Arty, I’ll do that. Okay?”

“Sounds great to me. Okay, guys?”

“Sure,” added Garret. “And I’ll help with getting the flying lanterns set up.”

“Looks like we had a good meeting,” said Arty.

“Let’s just hope that we don’t need to use any of the weapons, my friends,” said a somber Merlin.

 

The next few days Jennie seemed to be everywhere. She helped the artists and others with their respective projects and was impressed by their work ethics. She returned to the tent every evening dead tired after working side-by-side with them. Her favorite part of the day was before evening-meal when the girls all got together and dipped into the watering hole. She had to smile to herself when she discovered that the girls were relaxed, as the boys had given their word not to be boys, and peek at them.

She thought as she jumped in with them, I hope the original Keansburg guys keep their word too.

Ron’s sister Kay waded over to her and said as they treaded water, “Dear Jennie, might I be so bold as ta speak ta ya?”

“Please, Kay. I want all of us girls to be friends and feel that we can talk whenever we feel the need ta.”

The pretty girl shook her head as she said, “There be times when I hath trouble knowin’ what ya be sayin’. But, I know thy meanin’.”

“Yes,” said Jennie holding the girl’s hand, “please speak freely ta me.”

“Then, might I ask ye, doth the Keansburg gang hath wives in yer town?”

Jennie had to suppress a giggle as she remembered that boys and girls were married at a young age in the medieval times. Finally she said, “No, Kay. None of the Keansburg boys are spoken for.” She quickly added, “Ah, except for Arty, that is.”

“Oh, we know, dear Jennie. Sir Arthur be fer yee alone.”

“You-you know that?”

“Zounds!” Kay answered with a big grin on her face, “We be seeing that ya have eyes fer him alone. No, Sir Arthur tis fer yee alone.”

Now Jennie laughed as she noticed the other girls watching, as they pretended not to. I wonder if they chose straws to see who would ask me?

“Tell me Kay, do each of the girls have a Keansburg boy picked out fer themselves?”

“Yes, m’lady,” she answered. “And they wouldst be pleased this evenin’ when they know of this good news.”

Jennie looked into the girl’s eyes and asked, “And thou?”

Kay smiled as she blushed and said, “If, perchance, he would have me I would be pleased.”

“Are you going to tell me your pick?”

She blushed and asked, “Lady Jennie, if I might be so bold as ta once again ask thine advice?”

“Please do, Kay. We are friends and friends have no secrets from each other.”

“”I must know of the one called, The Black Knight. Be he a good man?” She held up one hand as she continued, “Please doth not think me wrong fer askin’ that, but, never hath we seen a man so dark of color.”

“The Black Knight is known as Bruno to us and yes, he is as fine a man as any you’ll ever meet. If he be thine choice, dear Kay, yee made a fine choice and will never regret it.”

The young girl suddenly kissed Jennie on her cheek and swam over to the other girls. In a few minutes they were all excited and Jennie knew that Kay had spread the word. “It’s going to get crazy here soon,” she said to herself as the girls all swam over to her for answers to their questions.

 

While Jennie and her groups created the designs given them by Garret, the ironworkers and stone masons worked on Merlin’s project as Arty and the original Keansburg gang took riding and archery lessons. Soon they looked like they knew what they were doing and even Ron admitted it as he said to Arty, “Thine Keansburg gang and thineself, sire, hath become verily good at ridin’ an’ such. I be proud ta be known as bein’ with ya.”

“Ron, I’m proud that you are one of us. High-five dude!” Ron had learned and slapped a high-five with a pleased Arty.

 

It was after the mid-day meal that an excited Edward, the ironworker, came running over to Merlin as he sat with Arty and Jennie.

“Wizard Merlin,” he said with a deep bow. “Thy sword be done. Pray, come see.”

Rising, Merlin turned to Arty and the others. “This is it, Arty. Do or die. Let’s go see,” he started down the hill as the others followed.

Once at the bottom, Edward led the way to one of the smaller tents. He stopped and held open the flap allowing Merlin, Arty and Jennie to enter first and he followed, tying the flap behind him. In the center of the tent sat a large, gray-blue stone, round on top but flat at the base. The top of the tent was open to let sunlight enter and it played along the hilt of a sword sticking out of a deep crevice in the stone.

Merlin reached down and ran his hand lovingly along the top of the stone as he whispered “It tis a work of art, Edward. Thee and thine team did a fine job.”

Edward beamed and blushed at the compliment. “Sires,” the young ironworker said, “I take me leave o’ you as I know there be much ya need ta speak of.”

“First,” asked Merlin, “tell me, how did you get the stone into the tent? It looks heavy.”

“It be heavy, Wizard Merlin. But we placed it on a stout wagon.”

Merlin looked pleased and the boy did a deep bow and left the tent.

Arty squatted down next to the stone and joined Merlin in running his hand along the surface of the stone until he reached the sword’s handle. “Merlin, what’s next?”

“Give it a yank, Arthur. Try to remove it from the stone.”

Arty stood and gripped the handle with both hands as he spread his feet apart for leverage. “Here goes.” He pulled up on the sword and grunted at the same time. Nothing happened and Arty and Jennie looked at Merlin who looked back with a smile on his face.

“It doesn’t work!” Arty said.

“Oh, but it does!” answered Merlin as he rubbed his hands together. “At least, part one works.”

“Part one?” asked Arty and Jennie in unison.

“Yep, part one. That’s the part where nobody else can remove the sword from the stone. Now we go on to part two.” Merlin paced a few steps and asked, “Arthur, have you ever replaced a tail light on a car?”

“Sure, I helped Mr. Grinnel replace his tail light, stupidly thinking that maybe I’d get some extra meat at dinner. Why?”

“Well, if you remember, you had to push the bulb into the socket and turn it once to the right to lock it in place.”

“Yeah,” said Arty shaking his head. “Now that you say that, I remember.”

“Well think of the sword as the light bulb. To place it in the stone you push it in and turn it to the right and it locks in place. To pull it out of the stone, you must first turn it to the left and then push it down before pulling it up and out.”

Arty stood and gripped the sword’s handle again and followed Merlin’s instructions. “Okay, turn to the left and push down and then pull it out!” He stumbled back holding the gleaming sword in his hands. “Wow! It worked, Merlin. You’re a genius!”

“Well, not a genius, just an ex-automobile mechanic.”

Jennie gave him a kiss on his cheek as she said, “What else were you?”

The magician shrugged his shoulders and scratched his head as he said with a grin, “As I remember, I’ll tell you.”

A sudden shout from one of the lookouts in a tree got their attention.

“Lets go see what it is this time,” said Arty as they left the tent in a hurry.

“Riders comin’ along yon road,” said Ron as they joined the group behind the bushes.

Arty peeked out and saw a cloud of dust rising from the dusty road. “Boy,” he said to Bruno and Triston who were to his left. “That dust cloud tells me that there are a lot of riders coming.” He thought fast and said, “Pass the word, everyone hide and let them pass.”

As practiced, some of the gang put dirt on the fires. Arty had them keep loose dirt close to the fires because he knew that pouring water on the flames would cause a plume of smoke to point them out. The entire gang lay as close to the ground as they could, for concealment.

Ron scampered over to Arty and whispered, “Sire, tis bad news I bring ta thee. They be knights an’ they be many.”

“Shoot!” said Arty as he shook his head.”

“Dost thou say shoot?” asked a perplexed Ron. “Shall we shoot our arrows at them, sire?”

“No!” answered Arty quickly. “No, I don’t mean shoot arrows, I mean . . . well, I mean, darn, Ron it’s just an expression. That’s all.”

“Sire,” said Ron with a sigh in his voice, “thine expressions greatly perplex me at times.”

Arty patted him on his back. “I’m sorry, Ron. I’ll try to remember. Meanwhile let’s just sit tight.”

“Shall we sit up then, sire?”

“No.” said Arty biting his lip, “I mean, just stay still, that’s all.”

“Fine, sire. I shall.”

Bruno whispered, “Arty, I count eleven of them and they’re armed to the teeth with lances and everything.”

Arty’s heart pounded as they stopped almost in front of him. He whispered to Jennie, “If it hits the fan, Jennie, I want you to run. Got it?”

“No,” she answered through clenched teeth, “My place is right here with you and the gang.” Arty’s response was cut off by a voice from the knight who was in the lead.

“Hallo! Be yee in yon thickets?”

He went on when he didn’t get an answer, “Be thou in yon thickets, I ask?”

He was answered by silence. Another knight trotted up next to him and said something Arty couldn’t hear. The first knight shouted out, “I ask, dost ya be in yon thickets? Answer me of I shall enter.”

Arty stood and zipped up his jacket as he lit a cigarette. The suddenness of his appearance startled the knight and he turned his head toward him.

“Yeah?” asked Arty, “what do you want?”

The knight lifted his visor and the face of a teenaged boy appeared with a smile. “Be thou Arthur?”

“I am Arthur. Who wants to know?”

“We do, sire.”

Arty squinted as he took a drag on his cigarette and looked up at the knight. “Why? You looking for trouble or somethin’?”

The knight suddenly got off his horse and kneeled in front of Arty. The other knights quickly followed him.

A shocked and very happy Arty stood silent as the first knight said, “Sire! We hath come from Surry ta be with ya. Would ya have us?”

Arty clipped the lit end of his cigarette and answered, “But are ya knights looking for yer pages?”

“No, sire,” he said with a grin. “We be pages who, upon hearing of yee, took our master’s armor and horses as they slept.”

“But why?” asked Arty as he shrugged his shoulders.

“To be with ya, sire. We know of thy doings an’ would join ya, if yee wouldst have us. Are yee not Arthur?”

“I am Arthur.”

“An’ soon ta be King Arthur?” he asked still on one knee.

Rather then answer that question Arthur walked to him and said, “Rise and join us. Who be yee, friend?”

“I, sire, am Ronald,” he looked around at the crowd now filling the road and side of the hill. The crowd came down and greeted them. Soon they helped them remove their armor and lead their horses away to be fed.

“Boy,” said Merlin. “Ya just never know who’s gonna come down that road. Do ya?”

“I’m sure glad they were not what they seemed to be,” said Arty as he stuffed the clipped cigarette back in the pack.

Jennie said with a smile, “Merlin, I don’t know if we are re-enacting history or creating history, but that boy knew of King Arthur.”

“King Arthur! Guess the word gets around fast,” said Merlin. “Now we have to make it happen.”

“So, Merlin. Once again I ask, what’s next?”

“The tournament starts in five days. I think we should leave for London in two days. That’ll give us enough time to set the stone up and let some of the locals try to remove it. And, instead of arriving with so many people, I think we should start sending groups there tomorrow morning. This way we can stagger their start times and as there are hundreds of people camping outside of the city walls, our gangs won’t be noticed.”

“Sounds good to me. When do I remove the sword from the stone?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I think we’ll know that when the time comes. Meanwhile we use the time to create our weapons of fright.”

 

That evening as they were cleaning up after the evening-meal, Percy was drying a wooden pate. Noticing that there was a ridge around the edge to stop any gravy from running off, He walked to within twenty feet of Arty and Jennie as they sat with a bunch of the Keansburg gang. “Yo, Arty.” He shouted. “Catch this.” He turned the wooden plate upside down and tossed it to Arty. The plate spun like a Frisbee as it came at him and he caught it and tossed it to Bruno who tossed it to Jennie.

She was about to toss it to Lance when she looked at it and said to Arty, “Arty, imagine if we had a few hundred of these and painted some of them white, some yellow and some red. Then if some superstitious bad guys attacked us, we just toss them over their heads. Sort of unleashing the beast’s of Hades at them.”

“Wow!’ said Arty looking first at the Frisbee then at Jennie. “Beautiful!”

“Yeah,” she answered, “Not bad, huh?”

Arty smiled and said, “Oh yeah! And so is the Frisbee.”

Later by the light of the fires Jennie had the artists painting her designs on the plates. She smiled every now and then as she remembered Arty’s remark. He thinks I’m beautiful.

 

The next day, after morning-meal, Jennie had the entire group split up into ten groups of twenty-five teenagers in each.

“Hey, gang,” she said standing on top of a tree stump as she addressed them. “Listen up. I’m going to assign each of your groups a time to leave for London, and when you get there camp outside of the walls. As each group arrives, don’t let on that you all know each other. When we are ready to let the people of London know about us we will send you the word and let you know when and where we will meet up. Okay?”

A roar of “Yays” told Jennie they understood and one hour later the first group departed singing and rapping as they went.

The original Keansburg guys went down to the horse riding area to get some more lessons and, as it was mid-day mealtime, they ate there sitting in a circle.

Merlin prodded Arty and said, “Arthur, look about. This could be the first meeting of the Knights of the Round Table.”

Arty looked at the group and nodded. “Boy, Merlin. We sure came a long way from the museum. Right?”

“Right,” answered the tall, gray haired man as he stuck his knife in a piece of beef. “I only hope that my theory is correct, Arthur.”

“Well, it’s too late to stop the ball rolling now, Merlin,” he looked at the group and as he saw them looking back silently at him, Arty felt he needed to say something.

He rose and said, “Guys, I must ask you all a question. Are we better off here or back at Hollin’s House with the Grinnels?” He raised his hand and stop them from answering as he went on, “Here, we don’t have to wear the yellow shirt with the Home’s name on it, letting everyone know that we live in an orphanage. Here, we eat and can have seconds. Here we can play without worrying about making too much noise as the Grinnels watch TV. Here, the townies like and hang with us. Her,” he looked at Jennie, “we kinda have girlfriends. Here, we ride horses and not have to just look at the townies as they ride along the horse path. Here we can shoot arrows, fish, hunt, play and sing without anyone shouting at us.” He walked slowly around the circle of his friends as he went on. “Listen, guys. I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us but as we all know, Merlin’s theory seems to be working out. And, if it does, then life for us shouldn’t be too bad at all. I mean, if I get to pull that sword outta the stone before anyone else does and I make king, well, you guys are my right-hand peeps and we get to live in a castle and all.” He ended up back at his spot between Jennie and Merlin as he ended his talk. “But, no matter what, this I promise you guys: If I don’t make king and we need to live in a regular house or something, we’ll never, ever have to wear yellow tee-shirts again. But, don’t get rid of them because every now and then we need to look at them so we remember where we come from and what we all went through” He sat as they all suddenly stood and applauded with shouts of, “Arthur Rules! Arthur Rules!” Jennie put her arm through his and said in a voice only he could hear. “Arthur, no matter what happens, you are my king.”

“And you, my sweet Jennie are my queen.”

Merlin smiled, as he knew this was reality and not a theory. He stood and raised his cup of cider and said, “I propose a toast to King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and his Queen.” They all joined his toast.

 

Two days later the last of the group had departed and Merlin, James, Arty, Jennie and the original Keansburg gang started out on the road to London. With them was the wagon that carried the sword and stone covered with hay.

 

Merlin wanted to enter London at sunrise to avoid the crowds so the small group camped on a hill overlooking the gates of the city the night before. From their vantage point they watched as people of every type passed through the city gates. Outside of the gates there were hundreds of campfires and they wondered which of them belonged to their new friends. Arty heard the rustlings of the original Keansburg gang as all seemed to have a hard time sleeping that night. It dawned on him that if he could hear them that meant he was also having a hard time sleeping. He looked up at the stars and whispered to himself, “Hey mom and dad. Could you kinda watch out fer me and the gang?” Just this once.” A shooting star went overhead and he finally fell asleep.

 

The birds were up before the sun and Merlin took advantage of the extra time by donning his black outfit and placing his magic toys in its sleeves, pockets, cape and other hidden compartments. He watched, as the rest of the group got ready for the last leg of their trip.

Arty approached him munching on cold chicken. “Good morning, Merlin. What’s the plan of the day?”

“I think the best way to go about this is for me and young James to enter the city on the wagon. All of you follow from a distance in groups of four or five so you don’t attract attention.” He pointed at a steeple a little ways past the gates and said, “That’s the church where we have to place the stone. What I thought we would do is, James and I will enter the city and go to the church and see if there’s anyone around. You guys follow me and if there is someone there, I’ll try to distract them with wizardry while you put the stone in the church.’

“Just anywhere in the church?”

“Well,” answered the wizard as he scratched his head in thought, “as close to the altar as possible. I mean, if you can’t, then just put it anywhere. But, if you could place it in front of the altar it would give a more powerful effect.”

“Where do we meet up with you, Merlin?”

“After you put the stone in the church, leave the city and join the others outside the gates. When I finalize the plan I’ll have James find you. Good?”

“Sounds good to me, good luck.”

“Good luck to you too. Now I say, let’s be on our way.”

 

They broke the gang up into three groups and as Merlin and James started out on the wagon, Arty, Jennie, Bruno and Garret followed them. After them came the rest of the gang split into two groups.

Merlin was pleased as he passed through the open gates, as the streets were almost empty. Almost, because the sound of the wagon wheels awakened beggars who quickly scampered to their favorite begging spots.

Merlin pointed to the road that led to the left and up a slight incline. “Today, young James. We go to church.”

“Will we visit father, Wizard Merlin?”

“Yes, we will. As I promised your father, I will make sure thou sees him as often as possible.”

The wagon protested as they rode up the hill and Merlin thought, Just a little bit more and part two of my theory starts. He did a casual look over his shoulder and spotted the rest following at a distance.

The road leveled out and they pulled up in front of the big, double wooden doors of the church. “Wait here, James, and I shall see if anyone be here.” He went up the steps and was relieved when the door swung open as he pushed on it. He looked in to see a short, pudgy man dressed in a brown robe and sandals staring back at him.

“Zounds!” said the startled man. “This be the very first time I unlatched the doors ta find some soul what wants ta enter so early in the day.”

“Ah,” said Merlin as he removed his hat. “Kind priest, might I enter and pray fer me soul?”

“Surely! Enter and sit in a pew and pray as ya wish, friend.” The priest squinted and said as recognition set in, “Friend. Wouldst thou be the mighty Wizard Merlin who did magic in this very church, days back?”

“I am, father. And I shall be right back an pray.” He ran out the door and once out of the priest’s sight, waved to Arty and the gang who loitered discretely down the street. As arty started coming Merlin said to James, “James, tell Arthur to place the stone whilst I’m attending to the priest.” He ran back in before the priest came out.

“Father,” he said holding the man’s arm as he led him to the front of the church. “Might I be so honored as ta have ya pray with me?”

“My good wizard. I be most proud ta pray with yee. Shall we sit here?” He pointed to one of the benches facing the altar.

“Father,” he said as he pointed to the tower three floors above them. “I would much love ta pray up there.”

“Up there?” asked the pudgy man with arched eyebrows. “Friend Wizard. The spirit wouldst hear us from here as well as from way up in yonder tower.”

Merlin opened his hand and showed him some coins as he said, “Father, I wouldst give thy church an offering if I could but pray in yon tower with yee, for tis me belief that the closer I be ta the spirit the better he hears me prayers.”

The man was torn between the many stairs and the coins at first, but the coins won and he held out his hand and said as he collected them, “Friend Wizard. If bein’ in yon tower pleases ya, then I say yes, let us go up these many steps fer thine soul.” He led the way panting and puffing and when they were finally on the third and final landing he sat on a small bench as he wiped his brow. “Please, friend Wizard. Feel free ta say yer prayers as will I.”

Both men sat with heads bowed for a few minutes and suddenly Merlin looked up at the sky, stood, and with raise arms said, “What? What is it ya be tellin’ me, Great Spirit?” The priest looked at him with his mouth open.

“Ya want me ta tell this fine priest somethin’?”

The priest looked at him with bewilderment on his chubby face. “Th-th-the spirit speaks ta ya about me?”

“Yes,” said Merlin as he turned and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “The spirit says yee be a fine man an’ he needs ta give ya a message.”

The little man was visibly nervous as he said, “Be it about the coins I took fer some cider a week back?”

“No.” said Merlin as he held back a laugh. “The spirit says that the stone in yer church hast a sword in it, an’ whosoever removes the sword wouldst become King of England.”

“B-b-but, Wizard Merlin, please tell the spirit that there be no such stone in me church.”

Merlin turned and whispered to the man, “Ya be tellin’ the truth, father, as I saw no such stone in thy church either.” He spun back to his position of looking up at the sky and said, “Yes, great spirit, he be a believer, as am I.” He nodded as the priest tried in vain to hear what Merlin was hearing.

“I shall,” said Merlin to the open sky and turned to the priest. “The Great Spirit wishes for ya ta tell all o’ London that in two days times time when the tournament is at a close there shall be a man called Arthur who shall remove the sword and be called King Arthur.” He paused for effect and once again continued.

“But before he dost remove the sword, all are free ta try removin’ it.”

“Even I?” asked the priest with a raised eyebrow.

“So sayith the Great Spirit. All may try.”

From his perch high up in the tower, Merlin spotted the empty wagon leaving the church and Arty and the group walking away. He patted the priest on his back and said, “I beg thee, friend priest, let us go back down as I am suddenly weary and in need of refreshment.”

“Yes, yes. Let us go back down and perhaps it be as the Great Spirit tells thee an’ there be a stone and sword in this very church.” He led the way.

The priest was carefully watching his step and holding tight to the wooden banister as Merlin looked straight down and saw the stone right in front of the altar. Realizing that the priest was concentrating on his footsteps, Merlin thought, as he removed a flour-packed egg from his sleeve, This could be the perfect time for the sword and stone to suddenly appear . . . and in front of such a reputable witness. He counted how many seconds it took for them to reach the second level and started to count to himself as they started down for the main floor and the stone.

When they were ten steps above the main floor and he knew a supporting post hid the stone, Merlin tossed the egg. It smashed on the ground between the priest and the stone exploding in a loud crack and puff of white smoke, obscuring the stone for a moment. The priest stopped on the third to last step at the sudden explosion of white powder and blessed himself as the stone slowly appeared out of the mist.

Merlin took the opportunity to help with the miracle by shouting, “Tis a miracle! Right here in thine very own church! Friend priest, thou must be blessed!”

The man didn’t know what to do with his newfound notoriety. He watched as Merlin touched the stone.

“Tis cool ta the touch,” he said as he motioned for the priest to touch it.

The man’s eyes were wide as he touched the stone with the tip of his finger and quickly removed it, as would someone who tested to see if water was hot. He sat in one of the bench seats and said, as he rubbed away the sweat from his forehead, “Great Wizard. I too need refreshment and rest as this day hath had much happen already.”

“Yes,” said Merlin as he nodded to the man. “I must take leave of yee at this time but, as the Great Spirit said we must tell all of this great event and invite all ta try ta remove the sword.”

The priest stood and said as nonchalant as possible, “Before I rest, great Wizard, perhaps I shall take the Great Spirit’s word to heart and try ta remove the sword meself. What say yee ta that?”

“Methinks that dost be a good idea, friend priest.”

The man approached the stone and gingerly touched the sword’s handle before getting a better grip on it. He gave it a slight tug and looked sheepishly at Merlin and said, “It be stuck pretty tight, friend Merlin. Methinks another pull dost be in order.” He put two hands around the handle and this time braced his legs wide as he pulled with a grunt. “Offf! It be stuck good! Best I stop lest I break it.”

“Yes,” answered Merlin with a nod. “The Great Spirit would surely frown upon that happening.” He smiled and waved as he walked out the door and down to the Topsy House.

 

Harold was feeding James hot porridge and warm milk while he and Thomas listened to the boy’s travels as Merlin entered. There were warm greetings all around and they spent the rest of the morning talking about past events. Finally Merlin said, “James helped me this very day perform a great feat of magic and in two days all of London will see a new king because of it.”

“James,” asked his father with a proud smile on his face, “be ya learnin’ the magic trade?”

“Yes,” answered the boy as he shook his head vigorously, “Wizard Merlin tells me all an’ he teached me ta write me name.”

Harold turned and said to Merlin, “Wizard Merlin, ya be welcome ta stay here with us if ya choose ta.”

“I do thank yee, friend Harold,” answered the magician. “And James and I shall practice for the big show in the church in two days time.”

Harold puffed up his chest knowing that his son would be in the show and offered, “Thomas and me shall tell all o’ London of the show.”

Merlin nodded. “Fine, dear friends. After he has eaten I wouldst meet with James in my room and then I shall take a nap as we were awake very early this day.” He went to his room to relax and ten minutes later James came down the stairs.”

“Wizard Merlin,” he said, “hast thou instructions fer me?”

“I do, James. I need ya to go out the gates an’ find Arthur. Tell him ta stay where he be an’ tonight when it’s dark, thou and me shall go visit him.”

“Yes, sire.” He ran up the stairs and Merlin stretched out on a mattress of fresh, sweet smelling hay.

 

The boy ran down the dirt streets jumping over puddles, knowing that because it hadn’t rained in a few weeks, the water was man-made and should be avoided. It was a first for James as the beggars took note of the boy dressed in better than average clothing and shoes, and tried their hand at separating him from any coins he may be carrying. Having grown up in the area he simply avoided them and ran out the gates. The air was much sweeter outside of the city and he took a deep breath as he started his search for his newfound friends. James could tell how long the people of each campsite had been camped by the amount of debris surrounding their tents and he kept walking further from the city knowing that Arty and the others were among the last to arrive. Finally he spotted Delvlin doing push-ups and went to him.

“Yo, James!” called Delvlin as he stood with his hands on his hips breathing deep. “How’s it going, dude?”

“It be goin’ fine, friend Delvlin. Pray tell me, where be Arthur?”

The well-built boy pointed as he said, “That’s his tent next to the tree. I’m pretty sure he’s inside. Go check it out.”

James shook his head and said, “Check it out I shall, friend Delvlin.” He walked towards the tent thinking, Methinks our Keansburg gang speakith weirdly at times. Yet, I understand what it be they say ta me. Strange indeed!

He rapped on the wooden post holding the tent up and said, “Arthur! I be checkin’ it out! Be thou in there?”

He was rewarded by a smiling Arty poking his head out. “Yo, Jimmy dude! C’mon in and take a load off.” He held the flap open and James entered. Bruno, Garrte and Jennie sat eating fruit. Arty squatted down as Jennie wiped her hands off and stood.

“James, would yee like some berries?”

The boy quickly sat and joined them as he gave Arty the message from Merlin. An hour later James left and returned to his father.

 

The moon was full as James guided Merlin out the gates and through the many campsites to where Arty and all of the others had camped. Hearing the sound of Rap, Merlin said to James, “Ahh! That’s the sound of our group. I feel like we’re home again.”

The Keansburg gang was dancing as the troubadours sang a slow ballad accompanied by the strings of the musicians. Merlin stayed in the shadows as he saw ‘his’ guys dancing with the girls of this era and thought, Well, if there was a chance of going back home now or staying, I’m betting the guys would elect to stay. He saw Arty glide by with Jennie in his arms and he smiled, Yep! It sure looks like all’s well. Merlin and James stood in the shadows until the dance was over and then stepped into the circle of light of the fires.

“Arthur,” he called as they approached.

“Hey,” Arty called out to the gang as he spotted them, “It’s Merlin and Jimmy. C’mon in guys.”

They patted backs, shook hands and high fived all around.

A smiling Merlin said, “Great job with the sword and stone, Arty.”

Arty gave a big toothy smile and said, “Do ya like the placement?”

“It is perfect! Right in front of the altar. Very impressive, Arthur.”

“Who did you take up to the tower while we carried in the stone?”

“None other than the top man of the church. And let me tell you, he is impressed. He thinks it’s a miracle and promised to tell all that whoever removes the sword from the stone will be King of England.”

“He should be impressed,” said Arty arching his back and placing a hand on his hip. “That stone had to be two hundred pounds at least. Glad we had the guys along to help.” They sat in front of the fire and Jennie sat close to Arty as he asked Merlin in a low tone of voice, “So, what’s next?”

“You guys stay here for tomorrow and from what I understand the tournament will end at dark the following evening. If all goes as planned the church will be full with many of the men trying to pull the sword out and become king. I’d like you to give all the guys a handful of flour and enter the church with the crowd. I counted twenty torches in the church this morning, ten on each side, and I’d like it if each torch had one of our guys next to it that night. When I drop some flour-filled eggs from behind the tapestry of the altar, that’ll the signal for them to throw the flour in the flames of the torches.”

“But won’t the people see them toss the flour?”

“No. I’m going to tell the priest to keep them quiet as it is a sacred moment and I believe the sudden sound of my eggs as they shatter and emit the white powder will get their attention. But the timing has to be perfect for the effect to work.”

“No problem, Merlin. But let me ask ya this, won’t the flour put the flames out?”

“No. When the flour is tossed in the air it becomes a fine powder that will ignite when it hits the flame. It won’t burn, but it will fizzle like a firecracker that shoots sparks.”

“Okay. Now what do I do, just go up there and pull the sword out of the stone?”

“No, Arthur,” said a smiling Merlin as he rubbed his hands. “In the position we are in, nothing should be a casual occurrence. Everything Arthur does will be recorded and we should take advantage of it to make it seem as though it was a huge deal.” He handed him a handful of seeds and said, “When the flames of the torches are blazing and sparkling from the fine powder, and I appear on the altar, everyone’s eyes will be on me. That’s when you place these seeds on top of your head and stay still. Arrow will point you out.”

“Okay, Merlin. Will you be back here before that?”

“No. I don’t want to take the chance of anyone spotting us together.” He placed a hand on Arty’s shoulder and with a fatherly smile said, “Good luck, Arthur. I feel this is your destiny.”

Arthur nodded and answered with firmness in his voice that Merlin had never heard before, “I do believe, Merlin the Magician, that this is your destiny as well as mine and the Knights of the Round Table. Take care, my good friend, and we’ll see this through together.”

Merlin walked away believing it would come to pass as it was written in the history books.

 

The next day Merlin woke to a tap on the wooden door of his room followed by James saying, “Wizard Merlin. Morning-meal be served. Be yee comin’?”

Hearing his stomach rumble Merlin answered as he put his feet on the cool stone floor, “Yes, James. I shall be there shortly.”

At the table in the kitchen sat Thomas and Harold. James hefted some thick, hot oats out of a kettle and put a dollop on each of their plates. He poured each a cup of milk and then sat and joined them.

“So,” asked Thomas, “What dost thou do this day, friend Merlin?”

“Friend Thomas, as it be mine first day in a tournament, I be out ta see the sights.”

“Mind the pick-pockets,” added Harold.

“Father,” said James with a big grin, “methinks the pick-pockets ought be warned o’ Wizard Merlin bein’ among them this day.”

“Friend Harold,” asked Merlin, “have yee a long coat I might use ta walk about in, as I don’t want people ta stop me an’ ask fer magic?”

“Aye! I do. An’ ya kin use it fer as long as ya need, friend Merlin.” He turned to James and said, “James, when ya be done eatin’, wouldst thou get me greatcoat fer our friend?”

“Aye, father.”

“An’” added Harold, “wouldst thou be askin’ young James ta be with ya on yer walk?”

“No. I wouldst be alone an’ let the boy visit his father.”

Harold’s smile told him that he was pleased with Merlin’s answer and an hour later the tall man with his long hair tucked up beneath a leather cap and wearing a long greatcoat left the rooming house.

The sun was high but there was a light breeze that warranted the use of the greatcoat and Merlin didn’t seem out of place with it. Although he wasn’t familiar with the city, and, except for the church, didn’t know his way around, he followed the sound of the crowds and soon found himself on a long, crowded street. Stepping out among the throngs of people he followed along and enjoyed the sights, if not all of the smells, of the tournament. Merlin noticed that the beggars were not just men, but women too, and many of them carried babies with them. I wonder, he thought, if the babies are brought along as sort of a tug on one’s heartstring?

He saw small shops that sold medicines and right next to them another selling chicken bones and heads for hexing. He thought as he strolled along, To each, his own. He spotted a card shark dealing from the bottom of the deck and smiled as he saw a group of wide-eyed children watch a man holding a doll that spoke when he threw his voice.

He suddenly felt the crowd get more excited and realized that they had turned a corner and entered a wide street with streamers of all different colors flying from upper balcony’s and flag poles. Flowers of every color hung from the window boxes. He smelled horse waste before he saw it and quickly stepped around it. The loudness of the crowd died down and he felt them take on a more reverend tone as many horses stood tied to rails that lined the street and women dressed in bright colored gowns and long dresses stood about waving fans beneath their noses. He knew they waved them to keep the flies as well as the smells away. The crowd gave them space and Merlin felt he was seeing the upper class of England as it gathered for a tournament.

“Make way! Make way!” He heard the voice and followed the rest of the crowd as they heeded the command and created a path for five riders who preceded five, elegantly dressed knights on horseback, their armor gleaming in the sunlight.

The front riders were young pages dressed in tight fitting clothes and all wore their hair in the latest pageboy style. They were firm, but polite, as they made way for their knights. Merlin looked close as the knights slowly rode by and he saw fierce looking armored men on large horses that also wore armor. Their visor’s were in the open position and on a closer look he saw what the commoners didn’t: older, tired men who, because of their dress and bearing, kept up the appearance of a fierce ruling class. Nothing wrong with keeping up appearances, he thought. It’s just that they could be nicer to their working class and share a little more.

Merlin moved through the crowd towards the front and heard the clang of steel meeting steel and grunting. Finally up front, he saw six pairs of knights swinging their swords at each other. It was obvious that they were tired and at every opportunity they stopped and opened their visors for more air. One stepped back and tripped over another’s foot and fell to the ground in a cloud of dirt and mud. The other stepped back and they both opened their visors and took deep breaths as the man on the ground looked at his pages. They quickly trotted over and helped him stand as they wiped the sweat from his face.

Lord! Thought an amused Merlin. They aren’t fighting at all! They’re going through the motions of fighting, but it’s all for the crowd! They’re putting on a show for the commoners. It’s Rome all over again: ‘Please the masses and keep the ruling class on top.’ Well it’s time for a real king to step in and fix this sham.

Merlin saw a group of knights on horseback talking amongst themselves as they slowly rode out to a large, grassy pasture separated by a long white and red striped pole down the center. Many five-foot high poles supported the long pole. Merlin recognized what it was immediately: A jousting ground. To one side was a long block of wooden seats filled with the better dressed of London. They sat and chatted while some waved away the flies and others had pages doing it for them. They sipped cool drinks and ate tid-bits of chicken and bread.

A trumpet sounded and one knight rode to one end and the other faced him on the other side of the pole straddling the center. They both lowered their visors as another trumpet sounded. They started off slow and quickly picked up speed as they galloped towards each other with a lance tucked under an arm, the point aimed at the other knight. The lance’s tip had a blunt leather bag attached to it and when they hit in the middle of the field, both were sent reeling out of their saddles and fell with a clang. The horses continued and were reigned in by their respective pages while other pages ran to their knights. The boys helped them up and the crowd cheered as they were helped off the field.

I have to hand it to them, thought Merlin as he walked away. That takes nerve.

He walked slowly back to the smaller streets to see more of the festivities when he spotted a man he recognized sitting on a stool outside of a pub. He was dressed in a finer cut of clothing than most of the others about and Merlin drifted by him. There was an empty seat close to him and Merlin took it. A young boy ran over to the magician and asked, “What be yer pleasure, sir?”

“Uh,” he stammered as he looked around, “one of those.” he said as he pointed to a man drinking a large cider. The boy trotted inside and returned putting it on the wooden table before him.

“Tis a’ half penny, sir.”

Merlin gave the boy a coin and sipped his cider. It was bitter and warm, but good. He was street-smart enough not to look at the man but listened as another man sat next to him.

Using his glass mug as a mirror, Merlin watched the man sit and put his drink on the wooden table. “So, Grogan, have ya plans ta joust?”

Merlin’s insides tensed, as he now knew where he saw the man before: It was Sir Grogan, the first knight they met after arriving here. He kept his eyes averted and was thankful for the cap that covered his long, gray hair.

“Not since them ragamuffins robbed me, Sir Hunt. I needs ta get me armor back as me friends seem ta shun me.”

“Be thee goin’ ta the church tomorrow night?” asked Sir Hunt as he sipped his ale.

“Ta see this one called Arthur be made king?” said Grogan as he slammed down his mug on the table. “I be there! I would see this one called Arthur all London speaks of.”

“And,” continued Sir Hunt, “Have yee tried ta remove the sword from the stone in yonder church?”

“Aye,” admitted Sir Grogan as he shrugged his shoulders. “Tis stuck in the stone firmly. Tis said that a wizard placed it there an’ he who removes it shall be named king.” He eyed his friend and asked, “Sir Hunt. Have ya tried ta remove the sword thineself?”

Hunt set his drink on the table, leaned close to Grogan and said, “Aye! Like thou I hast tried an’ like thou hast found it be stuck tight.” He sat back and picked up his drink as he went on, “Tomorrow night I too shall go to yon church ta see this Arthur remove it.”

“And,” countered Sir Grogan, “Should he remove the sword, shall you accept him as king?”

“Yes! England be much in need of a king. And if this one called Arthur removes the sword after all others hast failed, then he would be King of England an’ I shall swear allegiance ta him.”

Merlin finished his drink and walked away thinking, It seems that many shall follow Arthur but some will not.

The wizard walked the town and purchased vegetables and meats from some of the cleaner stalls that dotted the streets. He went back to the Topsy and persuaded Harold to let him cook the evening meal. Merlin scrubbed the pots he was going to use and created a stew with the chopped celery, onions, parsley, potatoes, carrots and small cuts of beef. He dropped all into the pot and added just enough water to cover the ingredients. The water was turning into gravy from the stocks he used and he thickened it with some of the flour he carried and rolled a few biscuits. He sat by the fire and stirred his mother’s recipe as he mentally rehearsed his show for the next evening.

That night, he served Harold, Thomas and James his creation. They all ate seconds and both men asked for his recipe. He slept well that night.

 

Under the dark night’s sky, Arty and the original Keansburg gang chatted with Ron, William, Guy and Frederick. The four teen-agers represented the various groups that, when all were together, made the group over three hundred strong. It just seemed natural that when Arty set up his tent, the others all surrounded his with their campsites. The topic was the next evening and what was in store for all of them after that.

“Camelot.” said Jennie as she roasted a carrot on a stick over the fire. “That was the name that Merlin called the castle.”

“So,” asked Arty as he addressed the four boys, “have any of you ever heard of it?”

All three nodded yes, as Ron said, “Camelot be an old, old castle, high up on a hill looking over the ocean. It be so old no one knows when twas built, sire. But, this much be known, there be spirits livin’ there an’ no live person dare step foot in there at dark.”

“Brrr,” said Percy as he pulled in and wrapped his arms around himself. “Bet it’s loaded with spiders and cobwebs. Man, I hate them.”

Ron nodded vigorously in agreement. “Tis! Tis as thou says, Sir Lefty. It be loaded with spiders and such.”

“Not a place ta live in.” added Frederick shaking his long, brown curly hair.

“Hey,” said Arty with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sounds like it’s got a lot going for it. If everyone is afraid to live there, it’s perfect for us! And besides, Merlin said it’s what happened anyway.”

The four boys didn’t understand Arty’s point but agreed with him anyway.

Jennie started to say something when a voice sounded from just outside of the soft light of the campfire.

“James Brown!”

Another voice answered it: “I feel good!”

The first voice said, “Enter.”

Arty was happy that he had decided to give the guards and scouts passwords so no one but their group could enter and listen to their conversations after dark without them knowing it. And, he thought, nobody would ever know about James Brown and his song, I Feel Good!

The scout was a fourteen-year old boy named Seth and he stopped in front of Ron when he entered the circle of light.

“Seth,” said Ron, “What news do ya bring?”

“There be men lookin’ fer Arty.”

They all looked at Arty who rose and went to the boy. “What men?”

“I know not who they be, Sire. But they be large and armed.”

“How many?”

“I saw but two hands full.”

“Ten,” said Arty biting his inner cheek. “But, ten armed men, and in the dark. I don’t like this at all.”

“Let’s grab our swords, Arty,” said Percy standing next to him.

“No,” said Arty. “They have the advantage.”

“How?” asked Ron, “There be hundreds of us and but ten of them, Sire. Surely we wouldst smite them.”

“First,” answered Arty. “It’s because we have so many more men than them that they have the advantage of just stabbing anyone around them while we must seek the ten out.” He shook his head and said, “No. We have to stay cool.” He turned to Seth and asked, “What are they saying?”

“They say: ‘where be this one called Arthur? Let us see him that we might honor him as he would be our king.’”

“They’re looking to capture you, Arty,” said Percy as he squeezed the handle of his sword.

“No,” put in Jennie as she stood with them. “They look to kill you.”

Arty shrugged his shoulders. “But why?”

“I’ll bet you anything that some guy hired them to kill you before you become his king. He’s probably a local who likes the way things are going and doesn’t want someone from the outside coming in and messing up his gig, whatever that may be.”

“Why do you think he looks at Arty as an outsider?” asked Garret joining in.

“Because,” answered Jennie, “these guys don’t know what Arty looks like. They’re walking around asking for him to show himself.” She shook her head as the light of the fire gleamed in her eyes at the thought of someone hurting her man. “We must make as though we are nothing more than travelers and hide Arty from them.”

“I don’t think I have to hide from . . .,” Arty started to say when she cut him off.

“You will hide! You will listen to me, Arthur, and live to see another day and not have your life snuffed out by some jealous low-life. Besides, this way we can see him and we’ll know what he looks like but he won’t know what you look like. Advantage us!” She pointed to some blankets stacked against the tent. “Now go. Get under them right now!”

Arty pulled the blankets over him as rustling and footfalls were heard and three men approached their campsite. Another noise let the gang know that there were others just outside of the campfire’s light, waiting for their leader to call them to action.

“Hallo!” called the big man in front. He was very fat with a full beard and long, dangling brown hair. His face was ruddy and he looked through small beady eyes that told them he had been drinking. He rested a meaty hand on the hilt of his sword, as did his two friends. All three looked around as the man continued, “Good evening, friends. Know yee of one called Arthur? It be said what he wouldst be King o’ England an’ me an’ mine friends wouldst greet an’ honor him.”

Ron stepped forward and said in the voice of a naïve boy, “Sire. We have just arrived an’ know of no person. Pray tell, shouldst thou meet with the man called Arthur, wouldst thou let us know as we too shall honor him?”

Looking at the group of young boys and girls the man wiped his nose and said as he shuffled off, “Find him we shall, young dolt! An’ I, Sir Albert, will be tossin’ ya his head to worship. Ha!” His friends laughed along with him and others matched their laughter in the dark as the group of would-be assassins went to the next group calling out for Arthur.

Jennie stood with crossed arms as Arty appeared from beneath the blankets. “Sir Albert,” she said tapping her foot. “There goes a dangerous man, Arty.”

Arty put an arm around her and said, “Thank you, Jennie. I got to listen to you more often.”

 

Very early the next morning Merlin walked up to the church. Using a skill he forgot he possessed, he opened the door’s lock with a long, thin nail, sat in the front row and gazed at the stone holding the sword. He was dressed in his Wizard’s outfit and when he heard the lock being opened by the priest, he readied an egg loaded with flour as he ducked down in the pew. The man shuffled down the aisle and Merlin heard him as he yawned loudly. When his footsteps said he was in the middle of the church, the magician threw down the egg and it exploded with a rising cloud of flour that looked like smoke. The stunned priest stopped in his tracks and before the smoke cleared Merlin stood there with his arms crossed, smiling at him.

“Friend, Priest!” he boomed, “This be the day all will know of as, ‘when the King of England would be found in thine church’. Be thou ready for such an honor?”

“I-I-I be ready, friend Wizard. What is it that I should do on this day?”

“Nothing more than walk with me through the streets of London as together we proclaim the coming of the King of England.”

“Y-Y-Yee and meself? Together?”

“Surely,” answered Merlin as he placed his arm on the man’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “Why thou be the leader of this fine church and thy word be heard by the faithful an’ my word be heard by all who know of wizardry. Together we shall tell all of tonight’s meeting with the King of England.” He looked in the man’s eyes and said, “Be thou up to this honorable task?”

“I be, I be, Wizard Merlin! But, pray tell, must we go up to yon tower again?”

“No, friend Priest. This day we shall stroll about, arm-in-arm, and tell all of tonight’s free show.”

“Free?”

“Yes! For we would want all ta attend thine fine church this evening to see yee crown the king.”

“Me? Me crown the king?”

“Who else? I ask yee this, fine friend, were yee not here for the very beginning of this miracle?”