I don’t want to see Sir Daddy’s blood, but Mummy makes me look. She forces my head in the direction of the mess that was the man who held my hand when I had nightmares. I squeeze my eyes tight shut, shaking my head, but feel Mummy’s long fingers on my face, pulling my eyelids open. Her long fingernails scratch the skin.

‘Look, Alisander,’ Mummy hisses in my ear. ‘Look at what the evil Sessites have done to us. Look at how King Mark has abandoned us to our pain and suffering, after all our loyalty.’

I see glimpses of him through my eyelashes. I wrench myself from Mummy’s clutches and run away, past the Sessite who did this. The clean-shaven man is laughing at me.

This is a bad dream. I will not remember this. My Sir Daddy will be there when I wake up, holding my hand.

I will not remember this. I won’t.

* * *

When Mother first made me put on Daddy’s doublet and shirt they were still wet with his blood. But now they are dry. I do not like the way the crust of blood rubs against my skin, but since we came to Magouns to live with Uncle Sir Guy, Mother insists I wear Daddy’s shirt all the time.

‘Revenge is yours, boy,’ she says all the time. ‘Your father’s bloodied shirt will ever be your reminder of that. When you are of age you will reap vengeance on the Sessites.’

‘Anglides!’ shouts Uncle Sir Guy. I hear my new sister crying inside the castle. My mother leaves me alone in the courtyard. I take out my wooden sword, and begin practising against the post of the stables. I do not enjoy my practice, but that is not my new sister’s fault.

I wish we were still in Cornwall, but Mother says that no one is safe under King Mark. Uncle Guy trusts in the boy-king. Mother says I should follow King Arthur’s example – he defeated eleven kings in a great war, and I only need to revenge myself against one nation, the barbarian Sessites from across the sea.

I don’t know if Mother loves me anymore. She spends all her time with Sir Guy and her new baby.

‘Does my Mother still love me?’ I ask Sir Bagdamegus, my sword-master. ‘She told me not to call her Mummy anymore; she said it made me sound like a baby.’

‘She has high hopes for you, lad,’ says Sir Bagdamegus. He is the kindest man I know. ‘But she’s trying to make you hard and fierce, so you can kill the Sessites who slaughtered your father. She fears that showing you too much affection will keep you soft.’

‘I don’t think Uncle Sir Guy loves me.’

Sir Bagdamegus puts his hand on my shoulder and smiles. ‘Sir Guy is a new father, lad. He is distracted by his baby. And in all the years I’ve known him he has never given kind words easily. But I’m sure he cares for your mother; and for you, in his own way.

‘Listen, Ali my boy. I am shortly going to visit my friend Sir Pellam – King Pellam, I suppose I should call him now. What if I ask your mother if you can come with me to see his new castle on the red rock? Pellam’s throwing a big tournament, and it would be a good thing for a boy your age to see.’

‘I would like that very much,’ I say.

But Mother does not let me go. She says it wouldn’t be safe. Uncle Sir Guy gets angry when Sir Bagdamegus goes to see King Pellam and doesn’t return to Magouns. He says that Bagdamegus has betrayed him, and that he will revenge himself on the old man.

* * *

Mother told me to ride at the head of the hunt with Sir Guy. She said it would be good for a boy my age to kill in the wild, and good training for my destiny. The whole castle is riding behind us, even Mother, who is big with one more baby. Just one more, she says.

Sir Guy shows me his sharp knife. He says he is going to finish the first kill of the day with it. He is watching the hounds sniff the ground. They spied a fox a little while ago, but then lost its scent. The knife reflects the sun into my eyes. I am dazzled.

Sir Guy says: ‘Never let your quarry go to ground, boy. Once you have its scent in your nostrils, chase it to the very end.’ He glances back at Mother. He does not smile at her.

They have been arguing. I hear them screaming at each other when I am in my bed. Sometimes my sister climbs into bed with me when they argue. Sir Guy gets angry if he finds us together in the morning. He says it isn’t natural. I don’t understand what he means.

When I turn round again I see Sir Guy’s horse racing ahead of us. I didn’t hear them go, but the hounds have all burst off into the forest. Now they are barking loudly. I must have been daydreaming.

‘Go on, boy!’ I hear Mother shouting. She will not gallop in her condition, but she wants me to.

I spur my pony on, and the low branches lash me in the face as I ride into the trees. One-by-one Sir Guy’s followers overtake me, and soon I lose the sounds of them. I turn my pony round and round, but I cannot hear them. The trees around me are unfamiliar. Sir Bagdamegus once told me how I could find out where I was by looking at the sun, but I can’t remember which way he said to go: perhaps he said south, or possibly west.

I let my pony lead me on. She takes me to the edge of a clearing, where a stranger is sitting below a tree with his hands over his face. I wonder if he is ill. Mother told me there are bandits in the forest, but this man looks like a knight. He wears a good suit of armour, and his horse is white and very fine. I do not move. I just sit on my pony watching him, but then my pony snorts.

He looks up sharply, and his face is very white. He looks ill. ‘Oh no,’ he says very quietly. Then louder: ‘Go away, lad.’

‘Are you alright, sir?’ I say.

‘Aye. Now go away.’

I dismount and go to him. I want to help him if I can. He looks upset.

‘I’m lost,’ I say.

He laughs, although it is a very sad laugh.

‘What’s your name?’ I say. ‘Mine’s –’

‘No!’ he says, holding out his hand to stop me talking. ‘Please don’t tell me your name.’ His voice sounds like Mummy’s, when she was at the edge of the cliff, pleading with the Sessite called Hermann not to hurt Daddy. I don’t understand what this man has to be upset about. He grabs my hand. ‘Listen, lad, it’s very important that you get away from me right now. If I come to your house later tell your family not to let me in. Do you understand?’

‘No,’ I say. I do not understand.

‘Alisaaaaaaaander! Where are you, boy?’ a voice shouts from in the forest.

‘I’m here!’ I shout back. When I turn back to the man he is shaking his head as if he is terrified of me. He struggles to his feet, and runs to his lovely horse, but before he can mount my mother has galloped into the clearing, tears streaming down her face. Though she is huge with child, she leaps off her horse and embraces me. I cannot remember the last time she hugged me like this.

‘My boy, my boy, my sweet darling boy,’ she’s saying over and over again. ‘I thought I had lost you.’

‘I’m alright, Mummy,’ I say. ‘This man was helping me.’

Over my mother’s shaking shoulder, I see Sir Guy ride slowly into the clearing. He recognises the man on the horse. ‘Leaving us, Sir Perceval?’ he says. ‘Please, we would be honoured to host such a prized knight of the round table at Magouns.’

Sir Perceval stops trying to mount his horse. ‘Sir Guy de Grance,’ he greets my mother’s husband, my little sister’s father. ‘Many thanks, but I should be on my way.’

Sir Guy does not believe him. ‘You surprise me, sir knight. My cousin Leo sent word from Cameliard that all the round table knights had been sent on a king’s adventure, and that you had been chosen to visit us. The adventure of the May-children, my cousin called it.’

Sir Perceval goes the colour of cold ashes. His head shakes.

‘Well have him, then.’ Sir Guy points at me. ‘This is Alisander du Orphelin, son of Sir Bodwyn and my wife, born on the May. I would not have King Arthur disobeyed on account of your respect for me and mine. What the king wills will be done.’

My mother holds me tighter. ‘What is this, Guy?’

‘Release the boy, woman. He’s to go to Caerleon with Perceval on King Arthur’s orders.’

‘No,’ says Mummy. She is sobbing. She leads me back towards the trees. ‘I will not let you take him from me, Perceval. Not my beautiful boy.’

As Perceval tries to get on his horse to ride away, Sir Guy drops from his mount and comes towards us.

Guy’s hunting knife catches the sunlight. It dazzles me.

I will not remember the rest. I won’t.

* * *

‘Has someone ever asked you to do something you know is wrong, Alisander?’ Perceval says in my ear as we flash across the land. I am riding in front of him on his horse.

I shake my head. I do not think I will ever be able to speak again.

‘Well let this be my only lesson to you, then. If someone ever asks you to do something that you know is wrong, and you know you cannot fight them, it’s a good thing to run away. That’s what I’m doing. I’m going to take you somewhere far away, somewhere safe. I am only sorry I could not help your mother.’

‘There’s nowhere safe,’ I hear my own voice say. I did not mean to speak. I can only see the blood. Daddy’s blood and Mummy’s blood.

All of a sudden he brings the horse to a halt. He says a word I don’t know. I think it is a rude word. I hear horses on the road in front of us. When I look up I see three riders throwing a cloud of dust into the sun. Perceval wheels our horse around, and with a cry of ‘Yah!’ spurs us off the road and into the hills at a gallop.

‘Are they coming?’ says Perceval to me.

I look behind us. Two of the three riders have left the road and are following. ‘Yes. One of them is the biggest man on the biggest horse I’ve ever seen.’

‘Hang on tight, Alisander!’ cries Perceval. ‘I know this land, and where we’re going Sir Lamorak won’t be able to follow.’

Our horse’s hooves clatter over a stone bridge, and then we’re back on soft ground. There is no place for me on Sir Perceval’s saddle. I slip around the horse’s smooth neck. I try not to pull too hard on the beast’s mane; they do not like that.

We are on a twisty-turny path, and I am thrown from side-to-side. I can hear hooves behind us, and a terrible crashing of water ahead.

‘Close your eyes, lad, and hold on!’ shouts Perceval.

I can’t close my eyes. I am too scared of what I might see behind them. I look ahead of us, and that is worse.

The ground just disappears. There is waterfall to our right, and a deep ravine before us. Perceval is riding straight towards the edge. The ravine is far too wide for any horse to jump, and it reminds me of –

– It reminds me of Daddy. Of Mummy’s hand on my face, prising my eyelids open. She forced me to look. Hermann the Sessite threw him from our cliff, and then brought what was left of Daddy to our door. He was wearing the undershirt that I wear now. His blood leaked all through. He wasn’t Daddy anymore; he was like a crushed plum, leaking and shapeless.

–  I feel Perceval’s horse shaping to jump, and I cannot do it. I can’t.

I let go as Perceval leaps. I tumble towards the edge of the ravine, and come to rest hanging half over it, looking hundreds of feet down to the charging river below.

I don’t know how long I lie there; it could be a moment, or it could be forever. Then there is a heavy hand on my leg, and I am being pulled back from the drop. I am lifted up by the scruff of my neck, and I find myself face-to-face with a huge man with a big brown beard and a sloping forehead. He looks at me like he doesn’t really understand what I am. He grunts, and his breath smells like old meat.

Sir Perceval and his white horse are on the far side of the ravine, looking back at us. I raise my hand to show him I’m alright, but he just lowers his head.

I hear huffing behind the giant who holds me, and another knight rides up behind us. He is fat, and red-faced with effort.

‘Got him, Lamorak?’ says the fat knight to the giant. ‘Well done, my man.’ He struggles off his horse and waddles to the edge of the ravine. He stares at Perceval, who hasn’t moved.

‘Let him go, Dinadan!’ shouts Perceval over the sound of the waterfall. ‘Let me take him to safety. Just one of them, please.’

‘I think not, old son,’ Dinadan shouts back.

‘This whole thing is wrong.’

‘It’s a king’s order, lad. And a king is appointed by God. Ergo, a king’s order is also God’s order. And God’s orders cannot be wrong. Lamorak here will get the boy to Caerleon while I head up to the Lake. Probably best you leave Britain quickly, and never return. Bog off and search for your beloved Sangreal or something, eh? You’ll certainly not be welcome at the round table again after I tell them about this.’

‘You’ve a foul, lying mouth, Dinadan,’ says Perceval. ‘I’ve no place in a brotherhood that counts you a member.’

‘No, lad. No you don’t,’ says Dinadan. He is happy, like Uncle Sir G –

I won’t remember him. I won’t remember his knife in Mother’s back.

Perceval says nothing for a moment. Then he catches my eye. I want to tell him there is no need to apologise, but I cannot speak.

‘Dearie, dearie me,’ says Dinadan as they ride me back to the road. ‘Imagine Sir Perceval committing treason, eh? I would never have guessed. Always such a holy sort. The purest are worst for going bad, I suppose. Eh, Lamorak? Eh?’

Lamorak does not respond.