"Miss me, lad?" asked a voice at Terence's right.

Terence didn't need to turn. He knew Gawain's voice better than he knew his own. "Wondered where you were, rather."

"I came on ahead," Gawain said. "I wanted to be the first to welcome Griflet to the guard."

Now Terence saw with amusement that Gawain stood beside the old court dandy. Griflet still only came up to Gawain's chin, but his eyes were strong and confident as Terence had never seen them before. "Griflet," Terence said, nodding. Griflet smiled back. "What guard is that?" Terence asked Gawain.

"Arthur's guard of honor, of course," Gawain said. "Come with me."

Together all the knights who had followed Bedivere trooped down to the beach, while others detached themselves from the waiting crowd and met them at the barge. They formed two lines, facing each other. Terence found himself across from Gaheris, who winked at him, and a few steps away from Bors and Lionel. Lionel was whispering something to Bors, who was trying very hard to ignore him and maintain solemn expression. At the far end of the line, nearest the barge, Terence saw Gareth, and beside him, Agrivaine. Terence blinked and took another look. It was undoubtedly Agrivaine even though Terence couldn't imagine why he should be in Arthur's guard of honor. Agrivaine met his eyes, smiled ruefully, and shrugged, as if to say, "I don't understand it, either." Terence chuckled.

Then, from the gathered crowd, a new group began walking toward the barge, all women, bearing a litter draped in silk. At the head of the procession strode Nimue, the Lady of the Lake, and her daughter, Ariel. As they approached, Bedivere stepped out of the line and held out Excalibur. Nimue took it, nodding her thanks to Bedivere, then continued onto the barge. Behind her, carrying the litter, walked to other ladies. Terence recognized Lady Lynet, Lady Sarah of Milrick, Parsifal's wife, Conduiramours, and Lorie, Gawain's wife. At the end of the procession a diminutive figure strode firmly. Terence felt something relax within. It was his beloved Eileen, who had never bothered to learn the dainty step of most court ladies.

On the litter, his face lined with age, but peacefully composed in sleep, was Arthur himself. The women carried Arthur onto the barge, where Nimue placed Excalibur at his side. Then the ladies stepped off the barge and made way for one more to take their place. Dressed in a regal dress and veiled in gauze- it was hard to tell it if looked more like a mourning veil or a wedding veil- the enchantress Morgan Le Fay stepped onto the barge and sat quietly beside the king, followed by Kai, Lancelot, Gawain, Eileen, and Lorie, sitting in a semi-circle around the reposing body of the king, leaving one empty chair.

Terence paused at the edge of the barge uncertainly. "Come on, then, lad," Gawain beckoned at him. "There's room for one more." Terence hesitated, looking back at where his father stood on the shore before nodding decisively and stepping onto the barge, taking the last seat.

At last Ganscotter spoke. "You are certain, all of you? You do this of your own will, not because I asked you?"

Morgan nodded, speaking for them all. "He is our brother, and our king."

"He will not die, you know."

She nodded again. "And the only man I've ever cared for."

"Nor will he wake until he is called for."

"We will wait."

Ganscotter smiled. "Very well," he said. "Then for your loyalty, I grant those gifts also to you. Sleep, Camelot's faithful, forever young and forever true beside Arthur the King. When he returns, wake also and return with him."

Slowly, Terence's eyes closed, as did the others, though they remained seated upright. The barge disengaged from the shore and moved out to sea. In a moment, it was swallowed up in mist.

"Farewell, my son," Ganscotter whispered.

Approximately 1200 years later . . .

"And King Arthur and his most faithful servants sailed off into eternity, forever asleep until they were called for again. And the mighty country that Arthur had founded eventually grew to become the land of Araluen as it is today. And somewhere, floating in an endless sea, a mighty king and his knights are waiting to be awoken during Araluen's greatest trial." The storyteller finished with a grand flourish.

"Wow," Will breathed in amazement. "That was a great story! Is it really true?"

The old woman nodded solemnly. "As sure as I live and breathe, it is. And, you've heard of Castle Araluen, where the king lives?"

Will nodded, his eyes wide.

"Well, young lad, do you know what it was called before it was named that?"

Will shook his head.

"It was called Camelot."

"It was?" he breathed.

The woman nodded.

"Wow," Will said after the old story teller had left. "I want to be one of King Arthur's knights." Beside him, Horace laughed mockingly. "You? You can't be a knight! Look at you! You're a weak little twig!"

Will glared at him. "I will be a knight! Just you wait, you'll see!"

Horace laughed again. "In your dreams, maybe."

Will growled fiercely and jumped on top of him, knocking the air out of his lungs. "You take that back!"

Horace rolled over and pinned him to the floor. "Make me," he sneered. Will glared at him before moving swiftly to knee Horace in the stomach. Horace rolled off him, his hands moving to clutch at his stomach in pain. Will took the moment to flee, running to the old willow tree in the front yard and climbing to the top. "You'll see," he muttered angrily, wiping a tear from his face. "I'll be a knight. I'll be the greatest knight ever."

Far away, floating on a misty sea, Terence stirred in his sleep. Something was coming.

Portions of this were taken from the end of The Legend of the King, with a few minor changes to make it fit the story better.