Alex was in a bit of a bind, and he frantically searched his memory.
“Uh. . reveillez-vous, chevaliers dormant, et. . et. . um, bataille avec l’Anglais. No, sorry, I mean, uh, l’Angleterre. That is-hold on, bataille pour l’Angleterre. . POUR l’Angleterre.”
Seven bearded, ancient French faces stared back at him blankly. They were in a sleeping chamber that was not adjoined to any tunnels. They’d had to resurface in the French countryside and follow some ancient markers to a burial ground near a place called Carnac. It wasn’t the cold, dry environment they had come to expect, but warm, slightly damp, and earthy. They had left the others at the cave exit-they were far too conspicuous to be travelling aboveground.
They had found the chamber, entered it, and Alex, excited to see a full chamber of slumbering knights, went to the horn that was hanging on the wall and blew it.
“Prys difuna yw?” the nearest knight asked.
“Vous. . parlez pas Francais?”
“Pytra?”
Ecgbryt leaned in toward Alex. “How goes it?” he asked.
“I don’t think they speak French.”
“There may be an enchanted archway around here.”
“What sort of-?”
The knights shifted forward on their stone biers and moved their hands to their weapons. That was a very bad sign.
Alex and Ecgbryt took a step back. “We shouldn’t have left the others behind,” Alex said, his hand on his sword’s hilt.
“Pace,” Ecgbryt said. “Liss, freed. .”
“What are you doing?” Alex said as the knights shifted off their stone slabs and started to advance on them.
“Quiet. Shee, kres-”
The knights paused, just briefly.
“Kres?” Ecgbryt said, nodding his head and holding up his palms. “Kres?”
The knights looked at each other. A question-a doubt? — seemed to pass between them. They appeared to be in a silent debate.
“What was that?” Alex whispered. “What all did you say?”
“It was the word peace in as many languages as I know.”
“Good trick. Which one finally worked?”
“Cornish.”
Alex groaned. “We have to be smarter than this, Ecgbryt.”
The knights apparently resolved the issue, but not to either Alex’s or Ecgbryt’s satisfaction. They continued advancing.
“What is taking so long?” came a voice from behind them. “We are hungry. You told us you were getting provisions and you would return quickly.”
Alex and Ecgbryt turned in surprise. “Berwin!”
“Thank God!” Alex said. “Talk to them-they speak Cornish. Explain who we are!”
Berwin stepped past them and sized up the French knights.
“How did you know to find us?” Ecgbryt said.
“I watched you. You walked right past the settlement where all the bakers and grocers are, and you came right out into this field-”
“Enough! Talk to them!”
“Lowena dhis!” Berwin said and held out his arms. “Hanow Berwin.”
The knights halted and lowered their weapons slightly.
“Prys difuna yw?” the foremost knight repeated.
“Ea, difuna,” Berwin answered.
They continued their conversation, unintelligible to Alex and Ecgbryt.
“What was that you said about an enchanted archway just now?” Alex asked.
“You know, Ealdstan put them up at the entrances to the sleeping chambers. It’s so we can understand who finds us, whenever they find us. It seems he did not place them at all the sites.”
“That’s an enchantment I could use.”
“You mean. . you never passed under one? But you speak English-I mean, my English; Old English.”
“Yeah, that’s because I had to bloody learn it. My father drilled it into me, starting when I was eleven. I’ve talked to you, I’ve been talking to the other knights-all this time, what did you think?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I did think. I just assumed. . all this time.” Ecgbryt shook his head. “Hmm. Maybe ours was the only one. No wonder your accent was so bad.”
“Well, I believe I’ve improved, now that I’ve heard you speak it.”
“And I thought it was just because you were Scottish.”
“You should thank your stars it was me you came across, matey. The only other people who could have communicated with you are a bunch of old men in tweed sitting in a lecture hall in Cambridge. Enchanted archways.” Alex snorted. “So that’s how Daniel and Freya picked it up?”
“Of course, what did you think?”
Alex sighed. Berwin seemed to be making headway with the Bretton knights. The speech patterns were sounding a little less formal and their body language was relaxing.
“So why couldn’t you talk to these chaps just now?” Alex asked Ecgbryt.
“What do you mean?”
“With the arch and all? Why didn’t the enchantment translate for you?”
“Daniel and Freya walked under the arch. I never did.”
Negotiations continued.
“How many languages do you know?” Ecgbryt asked.
“Nine or ten. Most of them dead.”
“Latin? Norse?”
“Aye.”
“But not Cornish?”
“No, not Cornish.”
“All right,” Berwin reported, finishing his talk with the knights, which had obviously gone well since they had all put up their weapons and a few of them were smiling now. “It’s not Cornish they’re speaking, but it’s close. This region on this side of the water was once a settlement sent from our own land, you see, and we held our tongue and culture in common. Trade was good, and an alliance with-”
“That’s wonderful, Berwin,” Alex interrupted. “You’ll have to tell us about all of that sometime. Did you tell them the situation?”
“Yes, I’ve told them the situation. They’re willing to join us.”
“Fan-bloody-tastic.”
Berwin introduced them. “They tell me that they take their names out of honour for the seven founding saints of Bretagne. This is Tugdual, this is Brieg, that is Aorelian, Malou, Samsun, Kaourintin, and that is Padam over there.”
Alex and Ecgbryt went around and clasped arms with them.
“Now,” said Berwin, “can we at last find something to eat?”