The Fire of Merlin (The Return to Camelot #2)(10)
Tristram, Gareth and David were all gulping pints of cloudy-looking beer. They saw us, and beckoned us over with big, gormless grins on their faces.
“How much have they had to drink?”
“We’ve been waiting for ages.”
“So you got them drunk? Mum is going to do her head in if we arrive back with a group of pissed strangers who look like tramps.”
Arthur was on the verge of arguing back, when we heard it: a deep, sonorous bell that was tolling, clearer and louder than before.
“Merlin’s calling for you.”
I don’t know what made me say it; I certainly hadn’t been thinking it. I was too annoyed and hungry to be thinking about Camelot and myths and legends.
But that was the night the visions started.
Chapter Five
Terror Visions
Slurpy was nowhere to be seen. Arthur said she had returned to the house without him.
“She’s not happy about all of this,” he muttered. “Tristram thought the pool cues were weapons and challenged some guy in tattoos to a fight; he damn near started a riot. Then Gareth managed to flood the toilets after he left the taps on.”
“They’re just exploring a new world,” I replied. “Your girlfriend is a self-absorbed piece of...”
“Titch, will you please try to get on with Sammy. How would you feel if Bedivere and I were fighting all the time?”
“But Bedivere isn’t a slutty, raving psycho...”
Our arguing was interrupted by Gareth. We were all now standing outside the noisy Horse and Hound pub, and Gareth was trying to dislodge the ringing in his ears by banging his head with his hand.
“Is your homestead far, Arthur?” asked the knight, who now had his head upside down. “Will we need to ride on...car once more?”
“You ride in the car, not on it,” replied Arthur, “and we just need to walk for a few minutes now.”
“I’ll walk behind, just to make sure we don’t lose anyone,” I said, looking around for Talan, but he had disappeared yet again.
“For the love of God. Where is he now?”
We found Talan back inside the Horse and Hound pub. He had discovered the karaoke machine. It took four of us to drag him out, and even then he was still singing “Hey Jude” into the microphone.
“The dwellings in your time are so very grand, and yet so close together,” said Tristram, as we strolled along the pavement. “I would not care for so little land. Where do the lords of this time keep their livestock?”
“Well, I used to have a rabbit,” I replied, thinking back to my Mr. Rochester, who had led Arthur and me into the land of Logres late last summer. “He lived in our garden.”
“And who are the lord and lady of this land?” asked David. He was the only knight still wobbling from the effects of the drink. The others had sobered up pretty quickly in the bitter February night wind.
“The Queen is called Elizabeth.”
“Then we should call on Queen Elizabeth and pay our respects whilst we tarry in this time,” said Talan.
“Unfortunately I’m not sure her guards would appreciate it, and don’t you dare go wandering off to find her,” I replied. I would have to find a leash for Talan at this rate.
We continued to walk in double file along the pavement: Bedivere and Arthur took the lead; then Tristram and Gareth followed; David staggered by himself, and then Talan and I brought up the rear. I was ready to run like the wind should Talan make a bolt for it, but his inquisitive urges seemed to have been satisfied for now, and he trotted along beside me quite happily, humming away to himself without a care in the world.
Our tall, white Georgian house loomed up in front of us. The narrow windows looked like dark eyes watching the world. The square was quiet, except for the muffled barking of a dog from within one of the houses. I walked around the knights. They had formed an arc in the road, facing the house front.
“My castle,” announced Arthur theatrically.
“You had better introduce them when we get inside,” I whispered. “Mum is less likely to freak out if they’re your friends.”
“True,” he replied. “Mum would freak out more if you actually turned up with some friends.”
Arthur got a punch on the arm for that.
I let Arthur do all the talking once we were inside the house. Our mother took it quite well, but judging by her bloodshot eyes and the lipstick-stained, crystal glass that was on the table, I think she may have had more to drink than David. He introduced Bedivere, Tristram, Gareth, Talan and David as old friends who he hadn’t seen for a while.
It wasn’t a lie.
The knights’ swords were still in Arthur’s car, but as soon as we said we were going to listen to some music, Arthur ducked out, and with Bedivere’s help, managed to get the swords back inside and upstairs without our mother noticing.
Our father – naturally – wasn’t there. I had given up caring about what country required his undivided attention these days.
Slurpy was waiting; she was lying down on Arthur’s big brass bed. She had stripped down to her low rise jeans and a short pink t-shirt. It had been ages since I had seen her without a big jumper or jacket on, and I was surprised at how much bigger she looked, especially around her chest. Had she had a boob job?