III. The Kitchen Knave

"There it is," said Roger, reining in. "On the top of that hill. Camelot." Lynet stared at the towering castle where King Arthur held court and felt suddenly very small. For the first time she was struck with the effrontery of her whole project: she, the sixteen-year-old daughter of a former enemy of Arthur's, had come to his great court seeking aid. For a wild moment, she wondered about going home, and to make matters worse Roger wheeled his horse and said, "I'll be leaving you now. Even you should be able to find your way from here."

"You're leaving?" Lynet gasped, too stunned even to resent his slur on her sense of direction. "Won't you go in with me?"

Roger smiled a lopsided smile and shook his head. "Nay, you've no use for me now."

"But what will I do? How can I see Arthur? Where do I go?"

The dwarf looked at her sharply. "You're not frightened, are you?"

Lynet mustered her self-composure. "Don't be a dolt. Of course not."

Roger grinned. "That's the dandy. I've no doubt you can brazen your way into anywhere you like."

Lynet felt her courage returning. She lifted her chin and said with dignity, "I should be pleased if you would accompany me, all the same."

Roger hesitated, but at last he shrugged. "Oh, very well. But as soon as you're in, I'm off, do you hear?"

Lynet was too relieved to argue, and they rode on together. As they approached the front gate, a hulking guard in chain mail barred their way. '"Old!" he announced gruffly. "No one allowed inside until after Whitsuntide."

"But it is for the feast that we have come," Lynet replied with outward calm.

"Ay, you don't have to tell me that. Come with another problem for the king to solve. You'd think 'is 'ighness 'ad nothing better to do with 'is time than to listen to a parcel of complainers."

Lynet's eyes flashed. "That, sirrah, is exactly what I think! Is he the king of this land or not? Then he shall hear of the abuses that take place in it!" She urged her horse forward, but the guard blocked her with his great spear.

"Not so fast, missy. Sir Kai's orders were to close the gates to newcomers. The king 'as more than enough to muddle with already."

"You forget yourself, guard," Roger said softly. "Speak respectfully to the lady."

'"o! A gnat!" The guard laughed. "What'll you do? Bite my ankle?"

A new voice, calmer and with more authority, intervened. "What's going on here, Colin?"

The guard stood sharply to attention. "More people wanting to see the king, Captain!"

A tall guard with grave eyes stepped up behind the guard. "Very well, Colin. I'll take care of this now." He turned to Lynet and said, "I apologize for my guard's rudeness, my lady, but he only did as he was told. So many have come to ask boons of the king that we can scarce house them all. We are not to permit any new arrivals."

Lynet's heart sank, and she lowered her eyes.

"Nay, my lady," Roger breathed, almost too softly to hear. "Don't give up so soon."

Again, she felt a new courage, as if the dwarf were willing her to be strong. She looked into the captain's eyes. "I will not go away for your convenience. No, not even for the king's convenience! Who is here to serve whom?"

The captain's brows lifted, and a smile lit his eyes. "I can ask Sir Kai in person, I suppose. If you will give me your name—"

"I will not!" Lynet declared.

"Eh?" said the captain and Roger together.

"I am one of the king's subjects, and I have come to ask his help. That should be enough." She met the captain's gaze squarely.

The captain glanced once at Roger. "Do you know this formidable lady, friend?"

"Somewhat. That's not to say I understand her, mind you." Lynet felt Roger's eyes on her, and she flushed, but she kept her gaze on the captain.

"She will not be sent away, will she?" the captain asked.

"Nay. Of that much I am sure," Roger replied.

The captain grinned. "I think I know what to do, my lady. I'm going to take you to one of the court damsels—she is close to the king and to several of his knights. I rather think she'll like you, and she may be able to help. Would you please follow me?" The captain bowed and led the way across the great bustling courtyard. All around her, Lynet was aware of a festive throng in bright clothes, and she longed to gaze at it in open-mouthed wonder, but mindful of her dignity, she kept her eyes straight ahead.

"Why, there she is now!" the captain exclaimed. "Pardon me! Pardon me, Lady Eileen!"

A short woman in a green dress who had been striding briskly across the court stopped in her tracks. "What is it, Alan?" Then she turned her eyes toward Lynet. Meeting the woman's bold, straightforward gaze, Lynet knew at once that she had found a kindred spirit. She sighed with relief and turned to speak to Roger. The dwarf was gone.

"These are my rooms," Lady Eileen said. "Come in at once and sit down. You've been traveling all day, haven't you?"

"Yes, my lady," Lynet said meekly.

"None of that, now. You'll call me by my name, which is Eileen. Flora! Flora, where are you! Come in here!"

A maidservant bustled in, carrying a dress. "Oh, my lady, I was sure you'd be late. Eve brought—"

"No time for that now. Eve a guest. I need you to go to the kitchens and bring up food for two. The best of everything. I'll be dining here this evening with my friend."

"But, my lady, the banquet!" the maidservant gasped.

"I suppose it will go on without me," Lady Eileen said indifferently. "Mind you hurry, now. My friend has been traveling far."

Lynet tried to intervene. "No, my lady ... I mean Lady Eileen ... you mustn't miss a banquet on my account. Indeed, I couldn't—"

"Nonsense. We'll be much more comfortable in here by the fire. Horrid banquet hall is always freezing, even in May. Well, Flora? What are you waiting for?" The maidservant started nervously and scampered from the room. Lady Eileen turned her eyes to Lynet and looked at her quietly for a moment. "I suppose you'd better tell me all about it," she said. "To begin with, what is your name?"

Lynet returned Lady Eileen's gaze, but forlornly. "Must I tell?"

"It is customary. Is there a reason you should not?"

Lynet nodded. "I ... I wish I could. I don't like to hide. But I'm not here for my own sake, and ... if I..." she trailed off helplessly.

"Never mind," said Lady Eileen. "Can you tell me your story without using names?"

Relieved, Lynet told about her sister and about the siege by the Knight of the Red Lands.

"I see," said Lady Eileen, when Lynet had finished. "And you've come to ask Arthur to send a champion to fight the Red Knight?"

Lynet started to speak, but was interrupted by the arrival of Flora, followed by a serving man, bringing their food. While the serving man laid out a dozen or so plates of enticing food, Lynet answered, "That's right. And my sister will marry the knight who delivers us."

Lady Eileen raised one eyebrow. "Of course she will," she murmured. "And no doubt your sister is the fairest damsel in all England."

Lynet looked at her sharply. "Oh, dear. You make it sound so ordinary."

"Every damsel in distress is the fairest in all England, it seems," Lady Eileen said drily. "Truthfully, now. Is your sister even passably good-looking?"

Lynet nodded vigorously. "She really is. Flawless. A little wispy thing with mournful eyes and a trembling smile. Besides," she added prosaically, "she's rich. She owns our castle and all the best farmland in our region."

Lady Eileen looked at the serving man, who had finished laying out the meal. "Thank you, Beaumains. That will be all." The kitchen knave left, and Lady Eileen said musingly, "How unusual! A maiden in need who is really beautiful!" She smiled ruefully at Lynet and added, unexpectedly, "And how dreadful for you. I should hate to have a gorgeous sister."

Lynet dimpled. "It is trying, sometimes."

"I imagine so. I don't suppose she's the sort who will get sadly overweight when she grows older, is she?"

"No such luck," Lynet replied mournfully. "She'll still be stunning when she's ... oh! I didn't mean to say that!" Lynet put a hand to her mouth, but Lady Eileen's eyes held so much understanding that Lynet began to giggle. "I don't really wish her ill, but it's true that I used to daydream about the day when she would be fat and peevish looking. She hardly eats anything, though, and I had to give it up."

"Don't give up," said Lady Eileen reassuringly. "She'll be skinny and peevish looking, and that's even worse. Shall we eat?"

"Yes, please," Lynet said, and for some time they devoted their attention to their meal.

When at last they were both satisfied, Lady Eileen leaned back in her chair and said, "So, if I understand you, you need one of Arthur's knights, but you're afraid that if you tell who you are, then he won't send one. Right?" Lynet nodded. "But you have no other recourse. This Knight of the Red Laundry or whatever it is has bottled you up in your castle—" She trailed off and asked suddenly, "How did you get out, by the way?"

Lynet shook her head doubtfully. "Em not really sure, myself. I made a plan to escape at night — I was going to pretend to be a maidservant and walk right through the Red Knight's camp—but it never would have worked."

"I shouldn't think so," Lady Eileen said. "You walk with too much assurance. So what happened?"

"That's what I don't understand. Someone met me at the edge of the camp and helped me. At first, it was an old woman—"

"At first?" Lady Eileen interrupted.

"Yes. She ... she changed later." Lynet sighed. "I'm afraid this sounds like nonsense."

"Not at all," replied Lady Eileen. "I'm suddenly very interested."

"Well, the old lady convinced the guard that we were local peasants, and then she became a young man, and she ... he said he was from the ... I've forgotten the name, from some court. It wasn't from Arthur's Court."

Lady Eileen's eyes were bright. "Was it perhaps the 'Seelie Court?"

"Yes! That's it!" Lynet exclaimed. "What is the Seelie Court, please?"

"The Seelie Court is the world of the faeries, or rather the good part of it. The monsters—hags and ogres and such—are the Unseelie Court."

Lynet stared. "You mean that I was helped by a faery?"

"I do. And if the Seelie Court has taken an interest in you, then I'll certainly do what I can to help."

Lynet started to thank her, but a flicker of motion to her left caught her eye, and a new voice said, "I've just come to see where you ... oh, I beg your pardon. I didn't know you were entertaining." Lynet turned to see a young man with a smooth, triangular face and high, arching eyebrows. He stood beside the window, through which he evidently had just noiselessly entered.

Lady Eileen stood. "Come in, Terence. I was just wishing for you. Sorry I missed the banquet. Was it dreadful?" The young man grinned and nodded. Lady Eileen explained, "I was dining with a friend. My friend, this is Terence, squire to Sir Gawain."

Lynet managed not to gape, but she was impressed nevertheless. Sir Gawain's exploits were legendary, and to encounter even his own personal squire left her a little awestruck. But when she looked into the squire's eyes, she forgot about his famous master. This Terence had the brightest and clearest eyes she had ever seen, and he looked at her with keen interest. Raising one eyebrow, he bowed with rare grace and said, "I am your servant, my lady. May I ask your name?"

Lynet did not hesitate. For reasons that she could not explain, she knew that she could neither lie nor hide from this man. "My name is Lynet, sir," she said softly.

Lady Eileen stared, but Squire Terence only smiled with pleasure. "Of course. I have heard of you, my lady."

"You have?" Lynet asked.

"A friend was telling me about you the other day. He said you had great potential, and I see he was right. You have the look."

Lady Eileen smiled brightly and said, "Splendid! I knew she was a right one! Terence, we need to rid her of a knight who's plaguing her castle. Have you heard from Gawain?"

Terence shook his head. "Not in weeks. I suppose he's still looking for his two missing brothers."

Lady Eileen frowned. "That's a nuisance. She needs a good knight, not a painted puppet."

Terence turned toward Lynet. "I'll talk to Sir Kai. He's Arthur's seneschal, and he manages Camelot. He can arrange tomorrow's schedule so that you see the king early."

"Thank you," Lynet said faintly. Terence bowed again.

"And Terence," Lady Eileen added. "Don't mention her name, please."

Terence smiled at Lady Eileen, then disappeared through the window in a single, fluid motion. "Who is he?" she breathed.

"I told you," Lady Eileen replied. "He is Gawain's squire." Lynet shook her head, and Lady Eileen added, "You can trust him, you know. But you do know, don't you? He'll arrange things."

If Lynet had been asked to describe a formidable knight, she would have described someone like Sir Kai. When Squire Terence introduced her to him the next morning, a sense of relief swept over her. Sir Kai had great brawny arms and an air of complete assurance. Though his black beard was flecked with gray, there was no comparison between this great warrior and the callow, half-hearted young knights Lynet had seen at the Knight's Sabbath. "This the lady?" Sir Kai growled at Squire Terence.

Terence nodded to Sir Kai, smiled reassuringly at Lynet, then disappeared into the crowd. Sir Kai led her to a seat in the great hall, and then Lynet was free to gaze with awe at the splendor about her: men in bright clothes and long, curled shoes; women in silk dresses woven with gold and studded with gems; pages and squires bustling importantly; servants bearing trays; and, best of all, the great King Arthur himself, resting with comfortable dignity on a throne in the center of the hall. The king's beard was almost entirely gray, but his face was unlined, and his eyes were bright. He was chatting with a young knight at his side, but when Sir Kai stepped forward, the king turned his attention to the court and announced, "Let us begin. Kai, you seem to have lined up rather a long day for us."

"Oh, ay, it's all my fault," grumbled Sir Kai.

The king smiled affectionately at his seneschal and said, "Who is first?"

Sir Kai began to lead the various suppliants before the king, and Lynet watched with interest and growing respect as the king questioned each as to his or her request. He was unfailingly courteous, both to noble and to peasant, but he was also firm. To the lady who demanded a knight to avenge the death of her husband, killed in combat, Arthur said, "I am sorry for your loss, my lady, but this court offers only justice, not vengeance." And for none of the lady's wails and moans and tears and vapors would he change his decision. Lynet was at once hopeful and apprehensive, unsure how this wise king would respond to her request. Suddenly, Sir Kai was before her.

"My lady," said Sir Kai to Lynet. "What is your request?"

Startled from her reverie, Lynet leaped to her feet. "Excuse me, your highness," she stammered. "I come on another's behalf, for a beautiful lady."

"Not for your own sake?" asked the king.

"No. At least, not entirely. But I too live at the Castle Per—the Castle Perilous, which is owned by this beautiful lady, and so I too am oppressed. This castle has been besieged for many weeks by a brutal knight who seeks to steal the lady's rich lands."

"And this, ah, beautiful lady has no defender among her own family?" asked the king.

Lynet thought wryly of her indolent Uncle Gringamore. "No, sire. She is an orphan, and she has never married." Sensing that this was her chance, Lynet added, "But she has said that she would marry the knight who delivered her from this oppression."

The effect of this announcement was not what she expected. A low ripple of laughter spread around the court. The king's face was expressionless, but Sir Kai rolled his eyes eloquently. A slender man in an extravagant blouse of orange silk minced forward and bowed deeply. "I wonder," he lisped, "why this lady who is so beautiful and wealthy has not married before."

Lynet felt her anger rising, but she answered politely. "I suppose it is because she has never met someone she cared to marry."

The brightly clad man smirked back at her. "I see. Not because no one has ever asked, then?"

Lynet looked around the room. Though there were many kindly faces among the onlookers, on every face she read disbelief. She remembered the conversation at the Knight's Sabbath, about the lady who must be ugly if her father was giving her away at a tournament, and even remembered Lady Eileen's polite skepticism about the "fairest damsel in England." Frustrated, Lynet turned back to the gaily dressed man. "Why, no," she said. "She received an offer last year, but the man who proposed wore an orange blouse and had little bells on his shoes. He was entirely ridiculous." The court grew suddenly silent, except for a stifled sound from Sir Kai. The man stepped backwards, as if he had been struck, and a tiny tinkling noise came from his feet. Sir Kai grunted again and turned his face, and Lynet added, "Well, you wouldn't have a lady marry someone with atrocious taste, would you?"

The man blinked, then retorted, "I'll have you know that bells are all the rage right now!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Lynet replied contritely. "I've never been to court before, and I was not aware that foolishness was in fashion here."

The fashionable man's eyes bulged from his face, but before he could reply, the king interrupted. "Sir Griflet, you forget yourself. You spoke ungraciously to our guest, and you have been justly served." The king turned back to Lynet and, in an apologetic tone, said, "You must forgive my court's reluctance. This is not the first time that a lady has offered marriage in return for some deed, but really very few of my knights are currently seeking brides. It makes it awkward, you see."

Lynet recognized the king's tact and was grateful for it, even as she despaired inwardly. Her only hope of getting a knight to come had been to entice him with her rich and beautiful sister, and now that had failed.

King Arthur continued, "But perhaps one of my knights might undertake to assist your lady, provided that he need not marry her at the end. What is your lady's name, and where is her, ah, castle?"

The question had come. Irrationally, Lynet wished that Roger were with her, willing her to be brave. The thought of the dwarf helped, and she took a deep breath and replied, "Sire, forgive me, but I cannot say."

The king's face grew very still. "Cannot? Or will not?"

Lynet would not lie to him. "I will not. Believe me, your highness, I have reasons."

Though King Arthur did not change his expression, Lynet could see anger growing. "You are impudent, my lady," he said softly. "You have come to my court asking one of my knights to risk his life and honor for you, and you are unwilling to risk even your name? Why should I entrust a knight to one who will not trust us?" Lynet felt her hope slipping. The king concluded decidedly. "I will send no knight with you while you remain nameless."

Lynet bowed her head. "Then I must look for help elsewhere," she said.

A new voice broke into the silence that followed Lynet's statement. "Sire, I beg this adventure from you!

Lynet looked up with relief to see which knight had volunteered, but it was no knight. Instead, the figure who stepped out of the crowd, vaguely familiar, looked like a menial servant. He was tall and seemed strong, but he was shaggy and bearded, and his clothes were grimy and greasy. He carried a tray supporting a bowl. Lynet recognized him as the kitchen servant who had brought dinner to her in Lady Eileen's chambers. "You're joking," she said.

"Beaumains?" asked the king, wonderingly.

"Yes, your highness," the kitchen knave replied. The court burst into laughter, but the servant stood still.

"I'm sorry, Beaumains," King Arthur said. "But to fight a knight is no task for you. I cannot—"

"I am not afraid," the knave replied.

"I am sure you are not," Arthur said soothingly, "but—"

"My liege?" interrupted Sir Kai. "Why not?"

The king looked sharply at Sir Kai and a surprised "Eh?" escaped him.

"You had determined not to send any knight," Sir Kai said. "Surely it would be better to send Beaumains here than to send no one."

"No, it would not!" exploded Lynet. "I would a hundred times rather you sent no one than send your kitchen help! Of all the insults!"

The king glanced at her, and she read sympathy in his eyes, but he only turned to his brother. "Kai? What are you up to?"

Sir Kai's face was impassive. "My lord, I know of no reason that a servant may not prove to be more than he seems. I myself, as your seneschal, am little more than an exalted servant."

"You know better than that, Kai," said Arthur, but he was watching his brother's face intently.

"No, sire," said Sir Kai. "If being a servant makes Beaumains unworthy, than so too am I!"

Lynet interrupted. "I'll tell you what, your highness. Why don't you just let me have Sir Kai. I wouldn't be insulted then."

King Arthur's lips twitched, but Sir Kai answered for him. "Quite impossible, my lady. But perhaps Beaumains is not so bad a choice for you after all. How do you know he is not a skilled fighter?"

Lynet turned and glared at the tall kitchen knave. Suddenly angry, she snatched a walking stick from a nearby courtier and, brandishing it like a sword, snapped, "Let's see."

She lunged forward, swinging the stick. The knave jumped quickly backwards, causing his tray to tilt. The bowl slid back and bounced off the tray, emptying its contents onto his chest. He yelped with surprise as the soup—fish soup, from the looks of it—soaked into his clothes, and he stumbled backwards, sitting down with a thump. In the hush that followed, Lynet strode back across the hall, returned the walking stick to its owner, then looked challengingly at Sir Kai.

Sir Kai almost grinned. "Few of us could stand our ground before such a savage damsel," he said. "Let us hope that when Beaumains faces your knight he is not holding a bowl of soup."

"You'll get this boy killed, Sir Kai," Lynet said softly. Sir Kai shook his head, but he did not answer. Lynet looked at the king. "I will be leaving your court at once, sire. Thank you for your hospitality."

The kitchen knave struggled to his feet and stood, dripping into an aromatic puddle of soup. "And I will go with you, my lady!"

Lynet cast him a look of disdain. "Oh, go clean yourself up, sapskull," she said. Chin high, Lynet walked out of the hall.