At the Crossing Places by Kevin Crossley-Holland Page B

out of shadow and sunlight; they charge at each other and shatter their lances.
    â€œFew knights survive a third end,” Sir Thew-Hit says.
    When they charge at each other for a third time, Sir Thew-Hit’s lance hits the very center of King Arthur’s shield, and his destrier rears up. He throws the king right over his crupper.
    The knight stares down at Arthur-in-the-stone; he squints at him fiercely through his visor. “Swords!” he says in a cutting voice.
    â€œI have no sword,” Arthur says.
    â€œNo sword?” scoffs Sir Thew-Hit. “Are you a knight at all?”
    The squire walks across the glade from the pavilion and proffers Arthur a sword, and at once Arthur raises his shield.
    â€œYou little fool!” Sir Thew-Hit growls. “You think you can fight me on foot?” Then he levers himself out of his saddle, swings down, and faces his king.
    Arthur’s strokes are light, but each time Sir Thew-Hit swings his sword, Arthur thinks it may shear right through his armor. He throws himself at the knight, and their helmets crack against each other. Blood trickles down from the crowns of their heads over their faces.
    Sir Thew-Hit and Arthur raise their swords again. They flash and hiss, and Arthur’s sword fractures.
    Sir Thew-Hit stares at the pommel and hilt in Arthur’s hand.
    â€œWell, now!” he says. “Either surrender and beg for your life, or else die.”
    â€œI’ll never surrender to a lawbreaker,” says Arthur in a low voice.
    With that, he leaps at Sir Thew-Hit. He catches him off guard and topples him, and tries to hold him down. But he can’t do it; the knight’s as strong as Wayland the Smith. They wrestle on the ground and the knight pinions the young king.
    Roughly, Sir Thew-Hit drags off Arthur’s helmet and draws his dagger…
    â€œWait!” calls Merlin.
    â€œI’ll slit your throat,” the knight growls.
    â€œStay your hand,” says Merlin. “If you kill this young man, you’ll be putting our whole kingdom in jeopardy.”
    â€œWhy?” asks the knight. “Who is he?”
    â€œKing Arthur,” says Merlin.
    The knight glares down at Arthur through his visor. His eyes are like troubled wasps, angry and afraid. He raises his dagger again.
    But at once Sir Thew-Hit’s eyelids begin to droop. He sighs and the knife drops from his hand, and he falls over sideways.
    â€œRise, King Arthur!” says Merlin, smiling and unsmiling, pulling Arthur-in-the-stone to his feet.
    â€œYou haven’t killed him with your magic?”
    â€œHe’s asleep, that’s all,” Merlin replies.
    King Arthur stares down at Sir Thew-Hit. “Because I’ve fought him,” he says, “I respect him.”
    â€œYou need this man and men like him,” Merlin says. “He’s only taken the law into his own hands because England has been lawless for so long. Many knights have done the same.”
    â€œWhy did he try to kill me, then?”
    â€œHe was afraid you’d have him put to death for threatening you.”
    â€œWho is he?” asks Arthur-in-the-stone. “What is his true name?”
    â€œSir Pellinore,” Merlin replies.
    â€œSir Pellinore? I didn’t recognize him.”
    â€œWe all go by many names,” Merlin says.
    At this moment my seeing stone began to silvershine, as glass shines when the rising sun looks sideways at it. Merlin and Arthur-in-the-stone grew dawn-pale, and then they disappeared.

15 THE ARMORER FROM LUDLOW
    T O BEGIN WITH, ALAN WAS VERY POLITE. HE ASKED Turold about his long ride from Ludlow and the new helmet he had made for my father. Then he led him across the Yard, and as he opened the armory door, a large rat raced out.
    Alan kicked at it. “Get out!” he snapped. “Who invited you?”
    While Turold began to measure me up, Alan leaned against the door. He watched us with his blackberry eyes and