The Bright Sword

by Lev Grossman

When Arthur did finally turn up he suggested they play rovers, like children did, so they wandered around the field calling out targets: a bush, a tuft of grass, a stump. Whoever got closer won that round and got to pick the next target. Once they flushed a hare and both shot at it and missed. It wouldn’t have mattered, the arrows were blunts anyway. “I’m sorry I took so long,” Arthur said, “but King Erec came to beg an audience in person. He told me the most extraordinary story, about some knights causing trouble in Destregales—it was Lavaine, Hellaine le Blank, and Bellangere le Beuse.” “What sort of trouble?” “Apparently there was an old giant named Umfrey who lived in the hills north of Carnant. He was a gentle enough soul, didn’t eat people, just took a sheep every week or two. He slept most of the time. King Erec said he slept on his belly like a little boy. Well, Sir Lavaine got it into his head that this Umfrey was a monster, an enemy of God, and therefore he was their next adventure on their glorious path to the Grail. So they searched him out and chopped him up with axes while he slept.” “Not very knightly.” “It was a damned atrocity. Umfrey woke up halfway through and broke Hellaine’s leg before he died.” “Serves him right. The fool.” Hellaine was an ignorant man who grabbed the maids’ bums. Guinevere aimed an arrow at a young oak by itself in the middle of the field, picturing Sir Hellaine. She held the bow at full draw for a count of ten, just to show she coul...

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