The Legacy of Arthur

Part 3

"As I recall," a voice sounded from over my shoulder, causing me to jump. On reflex, my right hand had dropped to the holster at my waist, the Colt 1911 therein nearly clearing the leather before I realized the source. Hartley stood at my back, staying behind while the rest of the sappers had abandoned the clearing. "You were the one who taught Nimue the spell in the first place."

"T-That's not the point!" Merlin deflated, suddenly reappearing at the side of the glass.

"Not following the command of your sergeant, Hartley?" I asked, somewhat proud of the restraint in my voice. I sounded almost cordial, a far cry from my usual sharp nature.

"Correct me if I am wrong, Lieutenant, but I believe the orders of an officer trump those of a sergeant." He broke into a grin, his face lighting up. "And I simply cannot pass up the chance to see how this turns out."

"Good to have you on board, Hartley." I paused, wrinkling my nose. "Got a first name? As this is entirely a Special Courier Service operation now, I think I'd like to drop the formality."

The idea seemed strange to him, and he took a moment before forming any words, working through the breech of protocol.

"Wesley. Wesley Hartley, formerly of London," he said, before adding, "It must be true then, you are no doubt American."

"I was born in Maryland," I answered, refastening the clasp on my gun's holster before offering my hand over to the man.

He took it solidly and shook. "Call me Chance," I said.

"Chance Masters? How, exactly, does one end up with a name like Chance?" he asked, "Is it a family name?"

"It's a nickname, Wes." I said plainly, giving him an incredulous look before glaring back down at the pointedly silent sorcerer. "I'm getting nowhere with the old man. You want to give this a try?" I held the sphere out to the soldier, who shouldered his rifle before taking the ball in both hands.

"Excuse me, sir?" He tapped gently on the glass, causing Merlin to reappear, again upside down, against the glass. "As a soldier in His Majesty's service, it is my duty to find the location of Camelot in the name of the king of England."

"Ah!" Merlin exclaimed, "Ah-ha! Much better, much better. Yes, a warrior, a knight for the king. You'll do, you'll do," he mused, shooting a glance in my direction. "From the field over my cavern, you will find a large oak tree. You will need to head past this tree, until you find a river."

"Wes," I interrupted, taking account of our surroundings. "Do you see anything that isn't an oak tree?" The forest around us was distressingly uniform, large oak trees facing us in every direction.

"That is a problem," Wes admitted. "Merlin, it would seem that several trees have grown in the time since you were last above ground. Can you think of any other way to direct us to Camelot?"

"I..." Merlin seemed confused and taken aback, only now taking the time to look about himself. "I suppose you could head west."

Judging by Wes's pleading look in my direction, I felt as though I must be glaring daggers down at the tiny magician. I bit my lower lip, silencing myself with some effort, and flipped open the compass I kept at my belt. Wordlessly, I pointed to the west, and the three of us set out through the trees.

"If you don't mind my asking," Wes began, after we had emerged into a less densely packed section of the forest., "How does a young American woman end up as an officer in an English military unit?"

"The Special Courier Service isn't exactly military," I started, sliding down the dusty edge of a riverbed, likely the same that Merlin had mentioned earlier. "We're just given quite a lot of leeway, considering what we deal with."