17

A Bright and Shining Time

Camelot was besieged. Inside, the defenders manned the walls, the women cooked the food, the children carried fresh arrows to the archers who kept their positions high on the wall. But the dark host of Melchior seemed to have brought with them a cloud of despair.

Day after day went by, and every moment was critical. By day, Melchior's archers sometimes launched such a flight of black arrows that they seemed to darken the sun. By night, they shot flaming torches so that the defenders were hard put to keep the fires extinguished.

Throughout all the days of battle the Seven Sleepers were busy. The girls helped with the cooking and cared for the wounded until their eyes grew gritty from lack of sleep and their nerves raw from the moans of the wounded men they treated.

One morning Sarah paused and looked over at Abigail, whose face was smudged with dirt. Sarah smiled. “Do you know—this is the first time I've ever seen you get dirty. You're usually neat as a pin.”

Abbey had been bathing the face of a young soldier who had taken an arrow in the side. He was in a high fever, and, as she tended him, for once in her life she seemed to have forgotten her own vanity.

Abbey looked down at her dirty clothing—which had not been washed for she knew not how long—and at her broken nails. Then she reached up and touched her face. “I'm a mess,” she said. “But I guess this is no time to be fixing our hair or polishing our nails, is it, Sarah?”

Sarah put her arm around the younger girl. She had always been jealous of Abigail's beauty and critical of her selfishness, but now, despite her fatigue, she was warmed by the girl's efforts. “You've done a beautiful job, Abbey. I know everyone has noticed how hard you've worked.”

Abigail flushed. She was used to compliments, but always these were on her beauty and not on her qualities of diligence, of which she was well aware she had little. “How long do you think we can hold out?” she asked, changing the subject.

As if in answer to her question, Josh came by, looked at the wounded man, and frowned. “I wish he hadn't been wounded. We're so thin in the ranks now that I don't see how we can possibly hold out much longer.”

The two girls looked at one another with concern, but it was Sarah who ventured to ask, “Is it that bad, Josh?”

Josh took out a handkerchief, wiped his forehead, then replaced it. “It's about as dark as it can get, I guess. I thought Sir Elbert was the most pessimistic man I ever saw, but he's downright cheerful compared to some of the other fellows. I don't see how we can go on much longer.”

At that moment, a cry was heard. “To the wall—to the south wall!”

Without a word, Josh turned and ran.

The girls stared at each other and then followed. They watched Josh scramble up a ladder to stand on the boards that held the archers. They saw him pick up a bow and send arrow after arrow downward.

Then Elendar came by and snapped, “You girls—take cover!”

As if to emphasize his words, a steel-tipped arrow sailed over the wall and struck a timber not six inches from Sarah's head. It quivered there, and she looked at it in shock. “Come on, Abbey. Let's get out of this. We can't do any good if we get pinned to the wall with one of those arrows.”

* * *

Elendar ran to the wall. He was like the others—dirty and battle-worn. Time after time it had been Elendar who rallied the defenders. Now he climbed the ladder one more time.

Just as he reached the top, a steel-tipped helmet with a black plume appeared above the wall. Without thought Elendar seized a battle-ax leaning against the parapet and, just as the man prepared to vault over, brought it down with such force that it split the metal helmet in two. The man went tumbling down.

A cry went up from the onlookers. “Elendar! Elendar!”

Then, as the valiant seer began cleaving right and left, the other men gave themselves to the battle. It was a perilous time, for they had to conserve their arrows. They were reduced now to using those that came at them over the walls, and each man waited until he was sure of his shot.

But finally the attack was beaten off, and the soldiers of Melchior retreated back out of range of the archers.

Elendar looked down at his hand—it had been gashed across the back—pulled out a handkerchief, and wrapped it.

Josh came up beside him. “You'd better have that looked at. I think they are using poison on some of these arrows.”

“I will when I have time.” Elendar was short-spoken, for he alone knew how serious the matter was. He walked away and went to where the king and Prince Loren were panting as they stared down at the retreating enemy.

King Dion looked around, and his face was lined and worn. “It was a close thing, eh?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, and they'll be back.”

Prince Loren lifted his eyes to the seer and said firmly, “We can last. I think we ought to make a surprise attack. Catch them when they're not looking.”

Elendar looked at the boy fondly. “A charge, you mean?”

“Yes. I'll lead it,” the prince said recklessly.

King Dion looked at his tall son proudly. “You would too, wouldn't you, Loren? I'm glad to see that you have such courage. But I think we must wait before we try a thing like that. It can only work once, and we have to catch them completely off guard.”

“You haven't lost your sense of tactics, Your Majesty.” Elendar nodded with approval. “Our time will come.”

Loren bit his lip, then abruptly changed the subject. “What's the matter with Sir Reb?” he demanded suddenly. “He's not too badly wounded to fight, is he? We need him.”

Elendar did not answer at once. Then he said, “The wounds that the young man took in the flesh are healed.” He caught King Dion's eye. “The wounds of the spirit are harder, but I pray that he will be completely healed soon.”

King Dion wagged his head. “What a sad thing. He did such mighty things, and now he feels it was all wasted. I wish the boy could get better.”

“So do I.” Elendar nodded shortly. Then he walked away, muttering under his breath, “None of them know how deep the wounds of the darkness go when they enter a man's spirit. It's only a miracle that the boy is alive, after all he went through!”

Elendar wanted to go to Sir Reb—and he had gone many times—but now he knew that he had done all he could. Besides, he had his hands full with the battle that would soon be raging again. But as he went to his cot to take a little rest, he said aloud, “Goel, that young man needs something that I can't give him—something that only you can give.”

* * *

Reb sat in his chamber staring at the door. He had done this for hours, and even now he felt a fear that he could not explain. He looked down at his arm and saw that the jagged wound was knitted together. The scar would always be visible, but physically he knew that he was healed.

“What's the matter with me?” He groaned. “Here I sit in this dumb room, while outside my friends and the king and all the knights are fighting for their lives! And I can't even go through that door.”

He got to his feet, picked up his sword, and marched toward the entrance. But tire closer he got, the more his steps dragged. Fear rose in him like a dark tide, and when he was five feet away from the door it became so great that he felt as if a pair of steely hands had seized him by the throat. With a cry of despair, he dropped his sword, moved back from the door, and slumped in a chair, his face in his hands.

How long he sat there he never knew. He thought of the dark time when he had fallen under the power of Mogen. He thought of the time since, when he had healed physically but had not been able to shake off fear. He was a tough young man, Bob Lee Jackson, but he did not feel tough now, and he felt the tears gather in his eyes as he realized how he had failed his friends.

The door creaked slightly, and Reb looked up, then jumped to his feet. “Elaine,” he said shortly. He wanted to say more, but he felt such shame for what he had become that he could not speak.

Elaine came in, and he saw that her eyes were weary and that her clothing was dirty and dingy. But her voice was soft as she said, “I came to see if you were all right, Reb.”

“You mean,” he said sharply, “you came to see if I'm still a coward.”

“No—”

“That's what everybody's saying—that I'm a coward!” Reb burst out. He slapped one fist in his palm. “And you know, they're right! I am a coward. Elaine, I'm afraid even to go out that door.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes filled with compassion. “Elendar has told me why that is. You're still struggling with the spell that Mogen put on you.”

“No, I'm just a blamed coward, and that's all there is to it.” Reb walked away, unable to face her. Leaning with his face against the wall, he muttered, “Don't stay here with me. Go out there with those who have some insides to ’em.”

Quietly she said, “Reb, Goel does nothing foolishly. Nothing he does is wasted. If he saved your life, he saved it for a purpose.” She hesitated, then added, “I know that you'll once again be the Reb that I knew.” Then she turned and left the room.

When the door shut, Reb looked up wildly. His eyes were filled with doubt and confusion, and he slumped down again, put his forehead in his hands, despair written in every line of his body. He never knew how long he stayed like that, thinking of the past, regretting all that had gone before, remembering the things that he had done that were wrong, the pride that had been in him.

“Reb, you must not think of yourself in such a way.”

Reb leaped to his feet and turned.

“Goel!”

The tall, familiar figure stood before him.

Reb took a step forward, but then remembered what he had done, and shame filled him. He wanted to run, flee the gray eyes that watched him so carefully, but he could only swallow and stand there waiting.

“It is a good thing for a young man to learn his weakness. He will remember and avoid it in the future,” Goel said. “I warned you once, my boy, that you had too much pride—that it would have to be broken before you would be the young man I want you to be.”

“I remember,” Reb broke in, his voice hoarse. “Why didn't I listen to you?”

“You are young, and this has been a hard lesson.” Goel watched as the young man's head suddenly dropped, and without hesitation Goel put his arm around his shaking shoulders. “Never be ashamed of honest tears. Any man or any woman who can't weep over wrongs they have done—why, they're not complete.”

Goel held the boy within his strong grasp, then he stepped in front of Reb and took him by his shoulders. When the young man's head came up, he said with a smile, “Now, that's in the past. We need not speak of it any longer.”

But Reb cried, “I can't even go through that door!”

“That was because of your weakness. You were alone in here, and you felt that, did you not?”

“I never felt so lonesome in all my life,” Reb cried earnestly.

“Let me tell you one thing, and then I must leave. There is such a thing as a person being alone—but there is such a thing as an Inner Presence. That is what I want you to learn, my boy. In a few moments you will not see me any longer—with your eyes, that is. But I want you to promise me that you will believe that I am somehow within you. Can you believe that?”

Reb looked into the eyes of Goel. “If you say it, Goel, then I'll believe it, whether I feel it or not.”

“That's my Reb.” Goel clapped the boy's shoulder heartily. He laughed, and there was a freedom in him that communicated itself to Reb. “Put your sword on. Go help your brethren who are at war,” he said.

Reb whirled and ran across the room, seized his sword belt, buckled it, took up his fallen sword, and said, “Yes, I'll go—” and then he discovered that he was alone. “Well, what ever—” He stared around the room wildly and then remembered what Goel had said.

“All right, I'm going through that door, Goel—me and you!” He still felt fear, but with a cry he rushed out shouting, “For Goel!”

* * *

Reb and Josh perched on a parapet of the wall, and there seemed to be little enemy activity below.

Josh looked over fondly. “Reb, I think you ought to take a nap or something. You've been on your feet ever since you came back two days ago. You've got to sleep sometime.”

Reb had on his tall cowboy hat. He had laid aside his helmet and replaced it with the Stetson. Now, from underneath the brim, his warm, bright blue eyes glinted. “I guess I lost enough time when I was fooling around in that room. Got to make up for it, Josh.”

Though Josh seemed glad to see Reb back, his old self again, he had said only, “It's good to have you back, Reb, in every way.” But now he said, “I wish there were a thousand Rebels like you. We'd take ‘em all.”

Reb had been thinking hard about the siege. “You know, Josh. I got me an idea. Have you noticed the last two times they've charged out of that grove of trees? I think they know this side of the wall's the weakest. I'm gambling they're gonna try it again, almost any time.”

Josh looked over the wall and saw the gleam of armor under the cover of trees. “I believe you're right. We'd better get some help around here to stand them off.”

Reb shook his head. “We can't do it forever. I say we got to do something different.”

“Different? Like what?”

“Like Stonewall Jackson did at Second Manassas. He let the Yankees go right by and when they were through, he hit ’em in the rear. Whipped the daylights out of ‘em—that time, anyway.”

Josh thought about that, then nodded slowly. “It might work, but I doubt if the king would let us try it.”

“Let's find out,” Reb said.

Ten minutes later Josh and Reb stood before Elendar and the king and Prince Loren. Reb laid out his plan quickly.

Elendar nodded. “I see what you mean. I noticed the same thing—they always attack that part of the wall.”

“That's right,” Reb said excitedly, “and what I say we should do is sneak some men out the other side, let them work their way around, and when Melchior's men hit those ladders, we hit them from the rear. They won't have no place to retreat to. That kinda discourages a fellow a little bit.”

Loren brightened. “I think Reb's right. Father, let's try it.”

Dion looked at the two young men. “So be it. You two take the flanks. Reb, you work your way around to the east. Loren, to the west. When they charge, let them get up on the ladders, then hit them with everything you have.”

Reb wanted to let out a Rebel yell, but he said, “That's business, Your Majesty! Come on, Loren.”

Within thirty minutes the two forces had crept out the back of Camelot, having arranged a trumpet blast signal. “When you hear that,” Reb said, “you hit ‘em, and I'll hit ’em, and we'll scrunch them critters!”

Reb led his men around the wall, keeping out of sight behind the grove of trees that shielded the castle. Josh and Dave, Wash and Jake—all were with him.

Reb said, “Now, when we hit, hit with everything you've got, all right?”

Suddenly he heard Melchior's men shout as they charged the castle walls. “Let ’em get up them ladders,” he whispered, “then we got ’em.”

He watched carefully and when all the dark-clad knights had emerged from the woods and were scrambling up the ladders, he took the horn that was secured around his neck by a lanyard and blew with all his might. “Come on! ”he shouted. “Get ’em!”

There followed a wild melee. Loren's small force struck the enemy on one flank while Reb's force struck them on the other. Melchior's men looked back and saw that their retreat was cut off. Screaming with rage and fear, they scrambled down the ladders only to meet the sword points of the forces that had trapped them.

“We got ‘em! We got ’em!” Reb yelled.

But at that moment, a tall form suddenly appeared in front of him. It was Melchior himself.

“I'll cut that lad down,” he shouted to his lieutenant, “and the rest will run.”

Reb barely had time to get his sword up to block the blow that Melchior sent downward. There was a clash of metal, and sparks, and Reb was driven back. Then he scrambled to his feet just in time to keep Melchior's sword from striking right at the top of his Stetson.

The blow struck the ground instead, and instantly Reb took his sword with both hands like a baseball bat, swung it mightily, and caught Melchior in the front of the helmet.

The impact drove the helmet back, and Melchior uttered a short cry. He fell backward to the ground. And before he could move, Reb jerked off the dark knight's helmet, and the rest of the Sleepers put the points of their swords to his throat.

“Don't… don't kill me,” Melchior begged. “I surrender.”

It took but a few minutes for the forces of Melchior to see that their leader was defeated. Everywhere the cry of victory went up from the defenders of Camelot and cries of defeat from the dark-clad knights.

And it was not long before King Dion stood before his begrimed, bloody warriors. “You've all been knights of the realm. Your honor and courage will remain forever—and will be sung by minstrels throughout my kingdom. Especially to you” —he turned to the small group at his side—“the Seven Sleepers, we owe a debt of gratitude. How can we ever repay you?”

Smiling, Josh nudged Reb and whispered, “Say something, you bonklehead!”

Reb swallowed and lifted his hat, put it over his heart. “I pledge allegiance—no, that was back in Oldworld. But I'll say this, we ain't never seen nobody like you folks, and we're proud to be a part.” He thought for one moment and added, “If I couldn't serve under General Stonewall Jackson, King Dion, I guess I'd choose to serve under you and your folks here!”