King Vogt and the Guardians of the Round Table
—byMario Crescibene
I. The Battle of Lake ErieIntroductionChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3II. The Quest for the Holy GrailInterludeChapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6III. The King of the WindChapter 7
Chapter 8. The two armies were still battling in the wooded corridor, shields grinding against shields, neither able to push the other from the road. The injured Sir Messick had been dragged behind the line, his armor split by the Southside Samurai’s katana.
The Guardians closed ranks, and Sir Gavin Williams stepped to the front to hold the line, and while the Black Sox attack was mighty, Sir Gavin was mightier. His fearsome flail whirled through the Black Sox ranks as they attacked. Every time a Black Sock lunged at the Guardians, Williams’s flail wrapped around the attacker’s blade and tore it from his hand, and soon eleven Black Sox had been disarmed.
As Sir Gavin held the Black Sox army at bay, Sir Nathaniel Lowe saw his opening, and swung his war hammer in a hefty arc that momentarily split the wall of shields that had been ramming the Guardians. Through the gap Sir Kwan and Sir Ramírez charged, and each struck a Black Sock down before the line could close again.
But just as the two knights were about to press their advantage, a terrible weight overtook them both. Sir Kwan’s knees buckled. Sir Ramírez felt the strength drain from his grip, and his sword dragged in the dirt.
“What is this magic that drains me of my power?” Sir Ramírez gasped. “I can barely stand. My knees wobble as if all strength has left me.”
Both knights collapsed to the ground, still within the Black Sox ranks. But just as the enemy was rallying and about to close in on the two weakened Guardians, Sir Adell charged in with a roar, grabbing both knights, and dragged them back behind the Guardians’ defense.
But from within the Guardians’ ranks, down the line, knight after knight felt the strength draining from their arms, as if some unseen hand were pulling it out through their fingertips. The Guardians on the front line did what they could to hold the Black Sox force back.
The black magic forced Kwan had to take a knee, but he managed to speak. “I felt something like this on my quest for the Holy Grail,” he said. “But never this strong. King Vogt says this is the black magic of the Dread Warlock Dolan, Morgana Le Fay reborn.”
Sir Hedges steadied himself against a tree, and for once there was no grin on his face.
“Sir Kwan speaks the truth. The king told Sir Messick and me before we rode out on our quest that some wizards cast spells, but others leech the energy from those around them. The Dread Warlock Dolan will not help us in our quest, and his refusal drains every one of us. It is surely his sorcery that robs us of our offensive capabilities now.”
“Then how do we fight it?” Sir Ramírez demanded.
Hedges looked down at the golden ‘C’ on his chestplate.
“Only the pure of heart can resist it,” he said. “We must hold on to the light.”
Upon uttering those words, a beam of light fell through the leafy canopy of the woods and struck the golden ‘C’ on Sir Hedges’ armor. The ‘C’ caught the light like kindling catching a spark, and a tiny golden ember began to burn at its center.
Then, from deep within the woods, a rhythmic drumming was heard — a deep resonating beat — and as the mysterious drumming grew louder, the golden ember on Hedges’ chestplate flickered to life, blazing brighter with every beat.
As the ‘C’ on Sir Hedges’s armor ignited with a brilliant golden glow, all the other ‘C’s on the rest of the Guardians’ chestplates began to come alive as well. The distant drumming grew louder still, and the golden light spread outward from their chests, flooding the woods, and burning away the darkness.
The spell weakened as the holy light of the Grail repelled the warlock’s drain, and the Guardians of the Round Table began to remember the lessons that got them there:
Sir Kwan remembered that he did not need to be perfect to be good enough. Sir Bibee remembered it was his relentless tenacity that led to victories. Sir Messick and Sir Hedges remembered that it was their faith and spirit that first revealed the Holy Grail. And Sir Ramirez remembered to let the moment come to him.
And so, with every golden ‘C’ blazing in the darkness like a line of torches, the Guardians of the Round Table rallied together, shoulder to shoulder, ready to defeat whatever force challenged them — be it the Black Sox army, the warlock’s black magic, or their own doubts.
Across the road, the Black Sox, clad in their black armor, showed no outward fear. But as the golden light fell across them — they were afraid.
Meanwhile in the Euclidean Stair, King Vogt had chosen a different direction to venture, now that the second round had begun. He found himself in a long corridor, lined with tall arched windows on one side that looked out at the center of the giant architectural space.
He had only walked a short distance when he heard it: the slap of boots running on stone. He quickly wheeled around to see if King Venable was charging from behind him — but the corridor was empty.
Then he heard the sound of running footsteps again. He spun in the other direction — but there was no one there either. Still the sound of running continued, faster now, and closer.
King Vogt crept to the nearest window and looked out into the depths of the Euclidean Stair, searching for where the sound could be coming from. But he saw nothing.
And then — something tapped the crown on his helmet from above. Vogt looked up to see King Venable standing on the side of the wall, grinning.
“We can run on walls?” Vogt snapped incredulously.
“The first to three touches escapes the Euclidean Stair. Those are the only rules,” Venable said innocently. “It seems even the rules of physics don’t apply here.”
Suddenly, both kings felt the familiar paralysis take hold as the Eternal Eye drifted into view, rotating and gazing upon them with its usual indifference.
“A touch… upon the helmet of King Vogt… A point… to King Venable.”
Before either king could say anything, there was a brilliant flash of light, and both kings were returned to where they had begun, with Vogt standing once more on the stone landing, looking up at King Venable far above. But what neither King Vogt, nor King Venable, nor even the Eternal Eye had noticed… was that the ‘C’ on King Vogt’s chest had begun to glow.
The third round of the Euclidean Stair had begun. 0-2.