A Witch in King Arthur's Court -4-

A Witch In King Arthur's Court
A Stupidity in Magic Text Story
Text for August 8th 2003

      The sunlight hit her eyes the next morning, waking her early. There was no blissful moment of thinking herself home, however, because there was no mistaking that her bed had NEVER smelt like this. She groaned and put her glasses on without looking. Looking around the room, she had to wonder if it would have looked better if she’d left them off. Smoothing water over her braids, she dressed in her jeans and shirt, and leaned out the window, looking out over the courtyard. Even at the early hour, with the sun just over the horizon, it was bustling with activity, chickens were squawking goats were bleating, men were bellowing cheerfully, women were singing and hanging up washing.
Octavia missed traffic noises. She sighed, and spared a self-serving thought, wondering if she was ever going to get home. Resolutely, Octavia stood, and opened to door to see a very shocked serving maid.
“Aie!” She covered her face. “I’m sorry to disturb you M’lady!” cried the maid.
“You didn’t” Octavia assured her. “I was just going to find something for breakfast.”
“Of course my lady, what would you require?”
‘Bacon and eggs are probably out.’ Octavia thought “Uh… bread and milk? Uhm… if you can point the way to the kitchen, I can get them myself…” It was too late the chamber maid was gone. But not so fast that Octavia didn’t follow.
“And the witch is wearing trews! She has transformed herself into a knight!”
she walked in to hear the chambermaid say.
“I did not.”
There were general gasps around the kitchen. The entire crew stared at her in wonder.
“’ere now, what be going on!?” bellowed a man’s voice. He pushed through the crowd. “Who be this Moorish maid?”
“This is the witch that Sir Lancelot brought back to Camelot last night, cookie.” He looked her up and down.
“She’s still a maid.” He said at long last. “Belike she’s dressed strangely, but she still is a maid.”
“Thank you for believing in my femininity.” Octavia said dryly. “Could I please get a little something to eat?”

       Octavia sat on the wall next to the tourney field and ate her fresh baked bread. Across the field, some knights were practicing. Behind her, in the castle she could hear a commotion of some sort. Sounded like they were looking for something. Suddenly, a page trotted up to the knights and emphatically said something. The knights bellowed back, and went back to their practice. But only briefly, one suddenly turned his mount and galloped towards Octavia, lace leveled at her.
“This could be really bad.” Muttered the dark skinned witch. The knight kept coming. She stayed where she was. For one thing, she was on a wall. She was betting that she could throw herself backwards, hug the wall, and avoid getting hit, even if the horse jumped it. IT pulled up and the knight tapped the lance tip sharply against her shoulder.
“Thy transformation has caused to end of trouble, witch.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He rested his lance in his stirrup, and removed his helmet- it was Sir Kay.
“Hast thou not heard the commotion your disappearance has caused?” he demanded, and another knight came riding up.
“I didn’t disappear” she defended herself. “I just got up and came out here. Bug off.”
“Thou dresses like a man, witch. Mayhap thee wishes to fight like one?”
“Sir Kay! Harass not the Lady Octavia!” The newly arrived knight said sharply. “She is an enchantress! Who knows what manner of spells she may cast?”
“Yeah,” she frowned and gathered energy in her hand. “How about this;” she wafted it towards the horse Sir Kay was on, and it took a deep wiff of it, then cantered off, completely ignoring the knights’ commands to frisk about the field. When Octavia saw the crewel way the knight pulled at the bridle, she leapt off the wall, and ran towards the horse.
“No! Stop! I didn’t mean it!” The warhorse came up to her as placidly as a pony, and slobbered on her shirt.
“Thou hast enchanted my mount!” snarled Kay, dismounting, and drawing his knife. “Witch or no, favored by the king or no, thou shall pay for that, thee Moorish witch!” The horse whinnieyed loudly and snapped at him, and while he was distracted by that, Octavia stepped forward grabbed his wrist and threw him over her hip, retaining the razor sharp dagger.
“Don’t threaten me, ‘Sir knight ,’” she said sharply, as the knight who had spoken in her defense rode up. “When you threaten those who seem helpless, you may find yourself more deeply surprised then you were today.”
“I might have warned you.” Chuckled the other knight. “Women can be quite fierce when it comes to animals.”
“Sir Valiant, go away, I need not your advice when it comes to women!” swore Sir Kay as he struggled to his feet. Octavia hid her smile behind her free hand, but kept a grip on the knife.
“I have sent a page to tell His Majesty where the Lady Octavia has gotten to.”
Sir Kay attempted to reclaim his horse’s reins but it bit at him. He stormed off in a huff, leaving Octavia in possession of his dagger, and his horse. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Sir Valiant dismounted and held his own reins close to the mighty horse’s chin.
“How did you do it?” he asked. “Sir Kay’s mount was quite as fierce as my own. And I have rarely seen a maid show such finesse in wrestling.”
“I do what I gotta to get by.” Octavia said blandly, trying to keep the horse from eating her hair.
“You must be a mighty sorceresses.”
“I’m a witch.” She muttered.
“Nay, you are a force for light, I’ve heard.”
“No, in my land I am called a Witch- with no negative connotations to it.”
She winced slightly. ‘Well almost’ she mentally amended “I am not a sorceress, or an enchantress. Those who cling to those titles would be quite upset that you call me that” she pushed the horses nose away.
“Uh- how do I give this charming example of equine flesh back to him?”
“You might just turn it at the stables.” He suggested. “They are a little leery of war horses, but this one seems to have become quite docile.” He unbuckled his practice helmet and smiled at her faintly. “However one might consider that you bested him in combat, and it is in fact yours.”
‘A horse’ thought Octavia. ‘Great. Maybe I’ll fall off this one, too, and get knocked back to reality.’
“Aren’t you shocked with how I’m acting?” she asked, still somewhat confused.
“Lady Octavia, after dealing with my wife for a few years, I’m not shocked with anything any woman does any longer.”

     Sir Valiant showed Octavia around Camelot, pointing out things that he thought would interest her. She was quite impressed by the architecture and said so.
“Camelot is a wonderful place.” Said her guide. “I have never seen anything quite like it in all my travels.”
“Neither have I.” Octavia said honestly. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out her digital camera. It seemed to be working fine. She put it up to her eye, and snapped a picture. Sir Valiant jumped slightly.
“You might,” he said mildly “Warn someone when you’re about to do magic.”
Octavia blushed slightly. “I’m terribly sorry, Sir Valiant- it didn’t even occur to me.”
While her guide was very calm about it, random observers were much less calm. Off hand, it made Octavia glad that it wasn’t an instant camera. At least they didn’t think she was stealing their souls.
“Lady, wouldst you PLEASE stop causing bright flashes of light!” Somewhat chagrined, she stuck her camera away. He shook his head, bemused at her expression.
“I had been meaning to ask,” he said. “Where did you learn the wrestling that you used on Sir Kay?”
“My local Y.”
“What?”

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