King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3 Read Online Free PDF Page B

point in telling it anyway,” Merlin had said.)
    Britt knew what was supposed to happen next. She was supposed to fall to the ground, weeping and crying that she had lost her father and brother. The trouble was Britt was still unimpressed with the occupation of fatherhood. Britt dropped to her knees, hoping the crowd would observe her unemotional response as shock. “What a wretched day, for in it I have lost my father and brother. And mother,” Britt said, adding the unscripted mother bit. She knew her tone was wooden and unfeeling, but almost everyone was watching Sir Ector and Sir Kay anyway.
    Merlin moved behind Britt. “Archbishop, what do you say to summoning all the knights and princes and barons from the tournament to come to this cemetery and see the will of God?”
    Brice, the archbishop, tucked his hands in the sleeves of his priestly robes. “I say that sounds wise, and let us commence with the summoning in all speed.”
    “You will not leave me, even though I am not your son or brother?” Britt said, reciting the well rehearsed line.
    Sir Kay shook his head, but Sir Ector replied with a fierceness that surprised Britt. “Never, My Lord.”
    “As long as we can be of use to you we will stay, My Lord,” Sir Kay said.
    Britt looked to Sir Kay, surprised. Merlin had told Sir Kay to keep his mouth shut during the cemetery interchange. Kay met Britt’s gaze and nodded before lowering his eyes to the ground. The young knight meant every word.
    “Stand, Arthur. This is not a time for weeping, it is a time of great joy. Finally, Britain will have a king again!” Merlin declared as he pulled Britt to her feet.

    Britt stomped her hands and flapped her cloak in an effort to warm herself as she watched lords and knights parade past the sword—which was once again stabbed in the anvil—and grapple with it.
    It seemed everyone from the tournament had turned out, intent on giving the sword in the stone one last pull. The sword pulling had gone on for most of the afternoon, and the air grew increasing chilly as night loomed on the horizon.
    Britt leaned forward and tried to catch Merlin’s eye, but he was busy talking to the Archbishop, planning the next move probably.
    “Are you cold, boy?” Sir Ector asked.
    Britt leaned back against the church. “No, I’m fine thank you.”
    Sir Ector held a rough wool blanket. “Are you certain? Winter has yet to truly bare its teeth, but it is still cold.”
    “I’m fine,” Britt insisted. She almost shrieked when Sir Kay materialized next to her and shoved a hot mug in her hands.
    “Warm cider,” Sir Kay grunted. “Drink it.”
    “Thanks,” Britt awkwardly said.
    The father and son stood with Britt, blocking some of the noise and excited shouts of the crowd when yet another knight failed to pull the sword from the stone.
    Britt hesitated before she brought the mug to her lips and sipped. The cider was stronger and sourer than what Britt was used to. It was not nearly as sugary either, but it was warm and tasted good.
    “How much longer will this last?” Britt asked, once again watching the knights.
    Sir Ector turned to watch the interchange. “As long as it must. There must be no doubts that you are our true King.”
    Sir Kay briefly nodded his direction in front of the crown. “King Lot hasn’t had his chance yet. He will be your biggest naysayer.”
    “King Lot?” Britt asked, taking another sip of the cider.
    Sir Kay pointed out a tall man who wore a fur cape and a floor length purple hued tunic. His face was craggy like cliffs, and a scowl seemed permanently etched on his lips. It was his eyes, though, that caused Britt to pull back. He had clear, grey eyes that judged every person who walked in his sight. They were cold, calculating, and hard, like chips of stone.
    He stood with three other men, speaking to them as he glared at the crowd.
    “Who is that with him?” Britt asked.
    “Ah yes. That would be King Urien, King Pellinore, and King