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| Artwork © Lotte Reiniger |
"Are you ready?" he asks kindly.
"Certainly," you answer with a smile.
Lancelot extends a gauntleted hand, helping you up onto the saddle behind him. He then wheels his mount around and races down the cobbled streets towards the castle, your fellow townspeople cheering you on and wishing you luck as you pass. The horse's hooves reverberate along the wood of the drawbridge, the ever-alert sentries raising the portcullis to let the two of you pass through the outer gate and into the courtyard. As you both dismount, you spy another knight sauntering up to you, his armour sparkling in the noonday sun. It is the black-bearded Sir Bedivere who approaches, a wooden sword held in each hand. He tosses one of these weapons to you and you catch it easily by the hilt. Bedivere turns to the puzzled Lancelot.
"I am to give our candidate here one last assessment before he begins the trial," Bedivere responds to Lancelot's unasked question.
The other knight nods and turns to you, reassurance beaming from his face. "You'll be fine. Just remember all that I have taught you."
You nod and ready yourself as Bedivere takes a defensive stance across the way, wooden sword gripped tightly in both mailed hands.
"Alright," he says. "Let's see what you're made of."