Lancelot in Love : excerpt from novel.

I don't know much about Zelda Williams, but she looks like the type I would want for Ahna if Lancelot were ever made into a movie.  Of course, Ahna dies in the book.

This is an excerpt from Lancelot and the Tides of Time.  The book is still available at

www.buckscountypublishing.com

I truly appreciate your support.  If you have any questions of me or the book please feel free to comment.

If Lancelot were ever made into a movie, Lucy Lawless would be my choice for the Lady of the Lake

Lancelot faced Ahna. Both held wooden staffs.

“Sometimes, Lancelot, you fight with what you have,” Ahna said.

“And you don’t have much,” he said and smiled.

“The little I do have is far greater than what you possess.”

He didn’t hear her because he had lost his concentration, something he had done frequently lately. Restlessness seized him at all hours of the day. Each day, he felt more and more like a prisoner. He wasn’t treated poorly; in fact, the women treated him as if he were a prince. Still, there was something missing in his life. He felt as if he had no purpose for existing.

He took a good look at Ahna, something else he had done a lot lately. She had grown into a beautiful young lady with silky, brown hair falling over her shoulders, green

eyes, and a tan, muscular body. She was every bit the warrior while at the same time every bit the woman.

“Wake up,” she said and lunged at him. She punched his stomach with her staff. “Daydreaming in the midst of battle will kill you.”

Lancelot backed away so that he could regain his breath. Another thing he was tired of was the constant battle preparation. He had seen no enemies in the four years he had been with the Lady of the Lake. Iweret had not shown his face.

He sighed and prepared his staff. He lunged forward, but Ahna knocked his staff down and hit him in the back of the head. Despite the leather helmet he wore, the blow still hurt.

“If that had been a sword you would have been dead.”

Lancelot approached more cautiously, looking for weaknesses in her defense. He faked a straight thrust and brought his staff high; she blocked it. He countered with a

back swing designed to catch her side and knock the wind out of her. She blocked it. He swung high again; she blocked it and butted him in the stomach with the staff. He grunted and fell backward to the floor where he sat and panted.

“Some warrior you are. You let a girl beat you.”

“Mabuz!”

The boy darted away. Lancelot had grown used to Mabuz and his comments, most delivered in good-natured fun. In fact, he and the little brat had become good buddies, but this day, his words angered Lancelot. He jumped to his feet and rushed Ahna. He swung wildly high and low, out of control, wanting to crack her skull. She blocked every blow and then sent him reeling with another blow to the head. He lay on the floor and did not move.

“Lancelot, are you all right?” She started to go toward him.

“I’m fine,” he growled.

Ahna laughed. “You couldn’t beat your own mother even if –“ Then, she paused as she realized what she said.

Lancelot jumped to his feet and started out the door.

“I didn’t mean anything.”

He ignored her.

“I’m sorry,” she called after him.

Lancelot hurried to the end of the corridor and looked out the castle window. Five feet below the window was a ledge; it circled the entire castle wall, a good ten feet

across, big enough for guards to patrol, and in times of war, for lines of archers to stand. He climbed out of the window and dropped to it. The outer walls rose four feet above the ledge – tall enough to shield the occupants from many arrows and spears. He walked to the wall and peered out over it at the star-filled night skies. Beneath him hundreds of feet, the waves of a sea lapped against the rocks. Often, when the Lady of the Lake wanted to make one of her especially grand appearances, she would appear in the sea and rise up out of the water hundreds of feet to the level of the ledge. Her beauty and fierce majesty always impressed Lancelot.

A hand grasped Lancelot’s shoulder. He jumped away.

“It’s me. Ahna.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Don’t sull up on me like a … like a boy. I’ve come to talk to you.”

He looked at her, barely able to see her silhouette in the moonlight. She looked like some ethereal creature herself, a water sprite or an elf. “I’m sorry for what I said in there, Lancelot. I didn’t mean to be cruel.”

Lancelot leaned on the wall. “It was four years ago to the day that my parents were slaughtered.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lancelot forced himself not to cry.

“You loved them very much?”

“My father. He had just begun to teach me to fight. He was a king: fair and just. The world will not find his kind again.”

“They say that King Arthur is a just king.”

“I don’t know this King Arthur.”

“He brings the nobles together in peace and harmony. They work together for the good of the nation, to help those less fortunate, and to defend the country.”

“It’s a shame they were not around to save my parents.”

Silence fell over them. Ahna put her hand on Lancelot’s shoulder.

“They were slaughtered, Ahna. Every man, woman, and child. I could do nothing.”

“You were just a boy.”

“Why was I saved? Why couldn’t I have died along with the rest of them where I belonged.”

“Perhaps, you were saved for a higher purpose.”

“That’s what my mother said.” When Lancelot thought of his mother, he could not fight the tears that came to his eyes.

“What was your mother like?”

“She was beautiful.”

“I wish I were beautiful,” Ahna said. “Then perhaps you would pay more attention to me.”

Lancelot turned to her and saw that she hung her head. “You are beautiful.”

“All of my life I have been a warrior, and I have had no time to be a woman.”

She looked at Lancelot; their eyes locked. Lancelot leaned toward her and kissed her. Ahna did not resist him. He jerked away.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I have wanted to –“

He leaned forward and kissed her again.

Then, a voice bellowed, “I’m telling mother!”

The two jerked apart.

“Mabuz!” Lancelot yelled, but the boy disappeared.

When they crawled back through the window, a group of warriors met them. Bella stepped forward. “I knew you were just like the rest. Take him to the spring. I will contact the Lady.”

As Lancelot and Ahna were led down the corridor, they passed Mabuz. The boy grinned and stuck his tongue out at them as if it were all some kind of game. Lancelot

looked at him and then shook his head sadly.

The spring bubbled up in a room on the ground floor of the castle. A circular fountain encircled by white marble walls, it was no more than ten feet across. The room itself was empty except for two chairs. The walls were white and bereft of any apestries.

The warriors gestured for Lancelot and Ahna to go inside, and then they closed the doors with a clunk. Lancelot felt as if he had just stepped into a prison cell.  He took Ahna’s hand. “I’m sorry. I broke the rules, and now you’re in trouble.”

“We broke the rules together.”

The water in the spring rippled as if some giant hand stirred it and then burst upward. There she was, “The Lady”, and she didn’t look happy. “I thought I could trust you Ahna.”

The door to the room burst open, and Mabuz ran inside.

“Ha! Ha! Lancelot got in trouble.”

“What are you doing here, Mabuz?”

“I wanted to see you yell at Lancelot.”

“Do you know how serious this is?”

Mabuz fell silent. Lancelot saw confusion and fear mixed in his face. “Mother, I didn’t want Lancelot to get in trouble. I just –“

“It’s time you started taking your responsibilities more seriously.” The lady said, her voice like a thundering waterfall. “I’m disappointed in all of you. I thought I could

trust you too, Lancelot.”

“Mother, they weren’t really doing anything that wrong.”

“Be quiet, Mabuz. Since you two have broken a solemn oath, you must be punished. I cannot have people I mistrust in positions of influence.”

“You can’t do this, Mother.”

“Ahna, your actions are treasonous, and the penalty for treason is death.”