Knight Quest (Time Hunters, Book 2) Read Free Page A

escaped.”
    â€œI opened the gate to get to my horse,” the man said in a haughty voice. “My family owns this field, after all. It’s not my fault if your pigs run all over the place.”
    â€œSorry, sir. Yes, sir,” Al mumbled.
    The rude young man looked round the hut, disdain on his face. He brushed a cobweb off his shoulder and said, “Ugh. I hate spiders. This place is only fit for a pig… or a pig-boy!” With a shudder, he turned on his heel and stomped off.
    â€œWho was
that
?” Tom asked.
    â€œPercival, the squire’s son,” Al said.
    â€œWhy were you so nice to him?” Isis asked, picking up Cleo and giving her a cuddle. “He was vile!”
    Al sighed and rolled his eyes. “I know. But if I don’t keep in the squire’s good books, I could lose my job.” He poked glumly at a hole in his boot. “My dreams don’t count for anything in this village. Folks like Percival and his father… as far as they’re concerned, I’m just the lowest of the low.”
    â€œWell, they can all go and stick their heads in a pile of pig poo, because you’re going to be a knight,” Isis said, wiping her dirty hands on Tom. “And we’re going to help you.”
    Tom nodded. “Yeah. Today’s your lucky day,” he said. “Let’s go and meet King Arthur!”

“I can’t believe we’re going to meet the real King Arthur,” Tom said. “I mean,
really
real!” He punched the air with excitement.
    As they followed Al and Acorn through a tunnel of lush, green trees, Tom drank in the mossy woodland smell. In his mind’s eye, he was already lost in his own medieval adventure, riding through the forest with King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.
    â€œWhat do you mean,
really
real?” Isis said, walking carefully with the hem of her cloak gathered in her hands.
    â€œWell, there are lots of stories about him,” Tom said. “But there’s nothing to prove he ever actually existed.”
    â€œThe Egyptians didn’t need to make up kings to tell good stories,” Isis said, tripping on a loose rock. She tutted loudly. “Our roads were better too.”
    Presently, the dense woodland came to an end. Tom could see small thatched huts dotted about on the edges of a grassy clearing.
    Al turned round, flashing them his crooked smile. “We’re here.” He pointed to a large building that was open on all sides.

    â€œThis is the meeting place.”
    â€œ
Make way!
”
    Tom leaped to one side as two burly villagers stumbled past him. They were carrying a heavy-looking table and pushing through the gathering crowd.
    â€œI want to sit there,” Isis said, pointing to a large, beautifully carved chair at the very front.
    â€œListen, the people here have come to see the king, not a ten-year-old girl,” Tom said. “You’ll have to stand at the back with the rest of us lowly mortals.” He was getting jostled on all sides by villagers trying to claim the best spot.
    â€œOut of the way, pig-boy!” a man in a fine linen tunic with a velvet cloak said to Al. He pushed Al aside so roughly that the boy bumped into another wealthy-looking villager.
    â€œOi! Pig-boy! You stink,” the second man said, holding his nose.
    Tom saw Al gulp and bow. “So sorry, sir. I did take a bath last week.”
    Stepping away from the man, Al accidentally stepped on Percival’s shiny boots.
    â€œYou clumsy oaf,” Percival hissed, glaring. “You’re not even fit to clean my boots, pig-boy.”
    â€œYeah, why did
you
even bother coming?” the second man said, sneering at Al. “Haven’t you got pigs to tend?”
    â€œHere! You leave young Alymere be!” an old woman shouted. She slammed the basket full of clothes that she was holding on to the ground.
    The mean man looked down his nose at the woman.