The Fire of Merlin (The Return to Camelot #2)(7)

Even though I hadn’t said anything to Arthur, I was planning everything in my head already. It would be like living abroad, and as the daughter of a diplomat who had lived in more houses than years I had been alive, it wasn’t as though I couldn’t cope with that. Only now I had hope, because now I would have one true home where I could keep my heart and dreams.

“I’m not talking about Camelot or any of that,” said Arthur slowly. He ran his fingers through his scruffy blonde hair.

“Then what?”

For a brief moment I thought my brother was going to confide in me about what was worrying him, but as quickly as he opened his mouth to speak, he closed it again.

“We’ll have to take them all home with us, for a couple of days at least,” said Arthur, changing the subject. “It’s going to be difficult, because they aren’t used to our time, but you and I can’t just disappear again. It’ll kill mum.”

“You disappearing might kill her. I doubt she would even notice I was gone.”

“Don’t be like that, Titch. It’s hard for her - and what with dad acting like a total douche…”

“They’re going to get divorced, aren’t they?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.” Arthur was pulling at a loose black thread from my fingerless gloves; the hole was getting bigger and bigger.

“I’m never getting married.”

“What if Bedivere asked you?” said Arthur slyly.

“No way. I’m far too young to get married and have kids.”

Arthur dropped the thread and rubbed at his temples yet again.

“Just be careful, Titch.”

“Me be careful? Hmm, Mr. Pot, meet Mr. Kettle. He ran off after a rabbit and got himself locked in a dungeon, which is where he would still be if I hadn’t rescued his sorry ass.”

Arthur laughed.

“We’re a pretty good team, aren’t we? You and me. King Arthur and Lady Natasha: the first girl knight of Camelot.”

“The day I call you king will be the day I eat raw liver, loser.” I flicked him on the nose with my glove.

“How are we going to get them back to our place? Eight of us won’t fit in the car. I can take five at a push.”

“That’s okay,” I replied, looking over to the tent where the knights were now arguing over a yellow bottle of mustard. “You can take Tristram, Gareth, Talan and David, and I’ll take Bedivere on the train.”

“And what about Sammy?” Arthur’s voice was strained.

“Can’t we just leave her here?”

“For God’s sake, Titch,” snapped Arthur. “The two of you have got to stop fighting. You’ll be the death of me, the pair of you.”

He stood up suddenly; the white plastic chair he had been sitting on fell backwards.

“I’ll take Sammy, Tristram, Gareth and David in the car. Talan can go with you and Bedivere on the train; I have a suspicion Talan’ll quite enjoy it. We’ll meet at the Horse and Hound pub around the corner from the house first, because I’m not sure mum’s nerves can take too many surprises right now, and so it would be better if we all turn up at once. And Titch, phone me if there’s any trouble. The last thing we need is any of them getting into hassle with the police while they’re here. You could bust me out of Camelot, but I don’t think we would be able to do the same at Paddington Police Station.”

“Did you honestly think you’d never see them again?” I asked, as we started to walk towards the food tent.

“Did you?” asked Arthur.

I bit down on my bottom lip. I could hear a bell tolling in the distance.

“I never gave up hope,” I whispered.

“Then hold onto it,” replied Arthur darkly, “because once you’ve lost that, there’s nothing left.”





Chapter Four

Trouble Underground



The crowds started to leave just after three o’clock. By four it was just the die-hard stragglers, the organisers and us who were left. The knights were having so much fun it was proving impossible to pull them away from the combat ring. I thought that they would have to resort to fighting amongst themselves, as the spectators grew wise to their talents, but there’s no fool like a boy, and the opponents just kept on volunteering. Even Arthur had a couple of fights, although Bedivere had to be held back from jumping the fence and joining in when it looked like Arthur was going to lose.

He didn’t though, and by the time we made it to Arthur’s battered excuse for a car, he had a shiny black eye to match Talan’s thick lip and David’s bloody, bandaged left arm. David had been hurt in his final joust, but his opponent had been so shocked to actually make contact he had fallen off his horse in surprise. All six, including my brother, had been given phone numbers by girls, women old enough to be their mothers, and even a couple that could have been grandmothers. I took great delight in ripping them all up, especially the phone number that belonged to the shameless tart that tried to chat up Bedivere as I was standing right next to him.



“Why can’t they all go on the train?” whined Slurpy, as we reached the car park: yet another muddy field across a narrow dirt track. “What if something dangerous happens because they’re in the car? We might crash.”