An Enemy in the Armoury
T here was something lurking in the darkness at the far end of the armoury.
Max froze. His hand just inches away from his sword, he peered into the gloom, trying to see beyond the shadows. He could have sworn he’d heard a scuffle, seen a gleam of movement. But now everything was still, and the only sounds were thedistant clash of swords in the practice yard and Sir Gareth shouting at the novice squires.
Most of Camelot was out in the sunshine, enjoying a chance to get some swordplay in before the Annual Festival of Chivalry, which started in three weeks. Max had been sent in to fetch a spare target for archery practice – but they were stored right at the back of the armoury. In the shadows.
Max started to move forward slowly and carefully, his hand on his sword, trying to look like he was ready to fight. In reality, his sword skills were not renowned, and he was pretty sure he’d come off worse against anything except a stray chicken. Or possibly a frog.
“Wh— who’s there?” he called into the darkness, trying to keep his voice level but not really succeeding. He could see a darker shape within the grey of the shadows – a rather tall and menacing shape. Definitely not a chicken. Max drew his sword, then took a swift step backwards as the shape rose up out of the shadows and launched itself towards himwith a roar. Max toppled over a pile of armour and fell sprawling onto the ground, his sword clattering across the room.
He looked up to see that the dark shape was actually a tall, thin boy with a dark tunic and spiky black hair, who was now standing over him and laughing.
“Well, well, Pendragon. Glad to see you’re as clumsy and pathetic as ever. Merlin might be teaching you magic but he obviously can’t do anything about the fact that you’re a hopeless loser.”
Max scrambled to his feet but the boy had already sidestepped him and was on his way out of the armoury, still laughing.
“Eat dung, Snotty!” Max yelled after him, but if the boy heard he made no sign. Max clenched his fists. Adrian Hogsbottom, better known as Snotty, was his worst enemy. Ever since they’d first met, they’d hated each other – and the rivalry had got worse since Snotty and his father had started plotting against King Arthur with Lady Morgana le Fay. Max shivered justthinking about Morgana – the kingdom’s most powerful sorceress. He and his sister Olivia had helped foil two of Morgana’s plots to bring down her half-brother, the king, and make herself queen in his place, and Max was pretty sure it was only thanks to Merlin’s protection that he was not at this moment a piece of oozy slime at the bottom of the kingdom’s biggest manure heap.
Thinking of Morgana’s plots made Max narrow his eyes. What exactly had Snotty been doing, lurking at the back of the armoury? As far as Max knew, there were only archery targets down there, and a few piles of broken armour and swords waiting to be mended. There was no reason for Snotty to be anywhere near the place.
Max dragged out the target he needed, and then had a good look round, under the benches and behind the piles of rusty shields and broken lances. He even balanced on an old trestle table to see if there was anything up on the shelves that ran round the top of the room, but everything seemed undisturbed, stillcovered in layers of old dust. He shrugged. Whatever it was, it looked like Snotty had been interrupted before he could do anything.
Max picked up the target and headed off into the sunlight. Behind him, the room settled back into silence. Deep in the shadows, hidden from view by an old rusty bucket, lay a small pile of glittering white powder that Max would instantly have recognised as a spell. Nestling in the centre of the pile was a small jagged chip of grey flint. It was placed carefully next to the easternmost wall of the armoury, and hence in the absolute easternmost corner of Castle Camelot.
***
Thud!
Olivia’s arrow hit
T here was something lurking in the darkness at the far end of the armoury.
Max froze. His hand just inches away from his sword, he peered into the gloom, trying to see beyond the shadows. He could have sworn he’d heard a scuffle, seen a gleam of movement. But now everything was still, and the only sounds were thedistant clash of swords in the practice yard and Sir Gareth shouting at the novice squires.
Most of Camelot was out in the sunshine, enjoying a chance to get some swordplay in before the Annual Festival of Chivalry, which started in three weeks. Max had been sent in to fetch a spare target for archery practice – but they were stored right at the back of the armoury. In the shadows.
Max started to move forward slowly and carefully, his hand on his sword, trying to look like he was ready to fight. In reality, his sword skills were not renowned, and he was pretty sure he’d come off worse against anything except a stray chicken. Or possibly a frog.
“Wh— who’s there?” he called into the darkness, trying to keep his voice level but not really succeeding. He could see a darker shape within the grey of the shadows – a rather tall and menacing shape. Definitely not a chicken. Max drew his sword, then took a swift step backwards as the shape rose up out of the shadows and launched itself towards himwith a roar. Max toppled over a pile of armour and fell sprawling onto the ground, his sword clattering across the room.
He looked up to see that the dark shape was actually a tall, thin boy with a dark tunic and spiky black hair, who was now standing over him and laughing.
“Well, well, Pendragon. Glad to see you’re as clumsy and pathetic as ever. Merlin might be teaching you magic but he obviously can’t do anything about the fact that you’re a hopeless loser.”
Max scrambled to his feet but the boy had already sidestepped him and was on his way out of the armoury, still laughing.
“Eat dung, Snotty!” Max yelled after him, but if the boy heard he made no sign. Max clenched his fists. Adrian Hogsbottom, better known as Snotty, was his worst enemy. Ever since they’d first met, they’d hated each other – and the rivalry had got worse since Snotty and his father had started plotting against King Arthur with Lady Morgana le Fay. Max shivered justthinking about Morgana – the kingdom’s most powerful sorceress. He and his sister Olivia had helped foil two of Morgana’s plots to bring down her half-brother, the king, and make herself queen in his place, and Max was pretty sure it was only thanks to Merlin’s protection that he was not at this moment a piece of oozy slime at the bottom of the kingdom’s biggest manure heap.
Thinking of Morgana’s plots made Max narrow his eyes. What exactly had Snotty been doing, lurking at the back of the armoury? As far as Max knew, there were only archery targets down there, and a few piles of broken armour and swords waiting to be mended. There was no reason for Snotty to be anywhere near the place.
Max dragged out the target he needed, and then had a good look round, under the benches and behind the piles of rusty shields and broken lances. He even balanced on an old trestle table to see if there was anything up on the shelves that ran round the top of the room, but everything seemed undisturbed, stillcovered in layers of old dust. He shrugged. Whatever it was, it looked like Snotty had been interrupted before he could do anything.
Max picked up the target and headed off into the sunlight. Behind him, the room settled back into silence. Deep in the shadows, hidden from view by an old rusty bucket, lay a small pile of glittering white powder that Max would instantly have recognised as a spell. Nestling in the centre of the pile was a small jagged chip of grey flint. It was placed carefully next to the easternmost wall of the armoury, and hence in the absolute easternmost corner of Castle Camelot.
***
Thud!
Olivia’s arrow hit
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