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So I lied about this chapter. It actually starts where the last one ended.
Chapter 5: Scabbards, Surcoats, and More Horses
Otogi, Malik, and Set stopped singing, then exchanged guilty glances as they realized what had just happened.
"Tell me you weren't trying to make him lose it," muttered Set, instantly sober. He balanced the platter of wine glasses on one finger and began to twirl it.
"Um..." said Malik, voicing both his and Otogi's current mental state. Otogi blinked his agreement.
Set sighed and thrust the platter into Malik's arms. Malik squeaked and attempted to hold both plates, nearly dropping them in the process. Just in time, Yami Malik appeared and grabbed the one closer to the floor. Malik opened his mouth -- since when was he able to turn himself solid? -- but the other retained his surly expression and made a shushing motion.
Otogi backed slowly away from both Egyptians.
"I'll take him back to his room..." Set grumbled, rolling his eyes in disbelief at the pure stupidity of the three mortals. That said, he began to drag his host back down the hall by the collar of his tunic.
xxxxx
Malik and Otogi, being relatively new squires, were not expected nor allowed to serve in the room that contained the Round Table. Instead they were shunted off to the Great Hall where Queen Guenevere and her ladies spent time with those knights who were not of the Round Table – this included many visitors from distant lands, and occasionally residents of the surrounding lands bearing news of evil warlords and ferocious dragons.
Malik suddenly found himself wondering how he knew all this.
He shrugged that disturbing thought off and committed himself to serving wine. How was it that he got stuck with the breakable objects? The spirit of the Rod and Otogi only had something that looked like a weird brand of pastries.
Most of the silk-clad noblewomen and even the Queen's five handmaidens seemed to be giving Otogi the eye. The Egyptian was immediately reminded of the crowd of giggling girls that always followed the dice master around – especially his three cheerleaders.
Otogi didn't seemed to notice – he was staring awestruck at Guenevere herself, unconsciously twirling a bit of his hair around one finger. She was certainly one of the most beautiful women any of them had ever laid eyes on – she had an exquisitely sculpted, perfectly complexioned face; her eyes were large and blue-green; her hair – which reached past her waist – was a rich red-gold that shone in the light from the stained-glass windows.
Well, it didn't matter if she was drop-dead gorgeous or not, and even though Otogi certainly deserved it, it wouldn't do to let him stand there and make a complete utter fool of himself.
Malik tried to sidle unobtrusively towards Otogi, ignoring the fact that his yami was bestowing a rather murderous glance upon one of the other squires. As the hall was somewhat crowded, it wasn't that hard to go unnoticed. "Snap out of it!" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. When that didn't work, he elbowed the other teenager in the ribs.
Otogi blinked and looked as if he wanted to throttle the Egyptian – but fortunately, he was distracted as his plate nose-dived rather enthusiastically towards the floor.
Malik sniggered to himself and waltzed off. Perhaps this wouldn't be as bad as he had first thought.
xxxxx
Set frowned as he shook his descendant yet again. "Wake up!" he hissed. "You're actually supposed to be doing something, you know!"
Kaiba remained decidedly unconscious.
It was then that he heard footsteps in the corridor outside. Someone knocked on the door. Set cursed. It couldn't be Malik or Otogi – they would never knock. It had to be one of the knights – no Arthurian squires slept in this room.
And the Arthurians didn't know about the sorcerer who shared Seto Kaiba's body.
Stay or disappear – that is the question. If he stayed, there would be some sort of uproar. If he disappeared, there would be no one to explain why a certain squire was out cold on his cot. Well, they could assume he's been asleep, the High Priest amended, but he'd get in trouble for that when he's supposed to be –
There was no time for further debate when the door was flung open. Set cringed.
Donovan of Dragon's Cove stood framed in the doorway. The High Priest froze and began to fade out –
"What the – " began the knight, then frowned. "Be you mortal or spirit?"
Set blinked, clearly expecting more of an outburst along the lines of 'Why the hell are there two Seto Kaibas here?' He almost began to say 'spirit,' but decided against it. But then again, in his current state – partially see-through – it was fairly obvious that he wasn't human – or even if he was, a spellcaster of terrible power.
The knight swept his eyes over the rest of the room, finally catching sight of Kaiba. "Why is he – what – "
Set decided to drop the high-and-mighty act, finally turning his body entirely opaque. "No time for questions. Have you been looking for m – for Kaiba?"
"Understandably," growled Donovan, eyes flashing. "He seems to be shirking his orders and – "
"No," he said smoothly. "You've got it wrong. He passed out -- the shock and everything -- and won't wake up."
The young warrior frowned. "I have received orders from the King himself that we are to depart at once to find Sir Percival."
Set deflated. "Sir Percival?" Yugi's – and more specifically, the pharaoh's knight-master. He crossed his arms over his chest and added, somewhat childishly, "Why?"
Donovan's mouth tightened into a thin line. "You are a squire and do not need to know. It is a matter for Percival alone."
"I'm not a squire," the High Priest said vehemently. At the other's skeptical expression, he said, "Yes, he is. I'm merely the dark spirit living inside his head." The last sentence was said with what was hopefully a cross between one of Kaiba's trademark smirks and a sadistic, evil-looking, spine-chilling homicidal grin. And yes, hopefully this would cow Donovan into telling him what he wanted to know.
The knight's eyes narrowed to bare slits of sapphire blue. Set found himself cringing inwardly once again, wondering if he'd overdone it.
"Tell him he is to be in the stables in ten minutes," he snapped. "I will not accept any excuses. Remind him that he is my squire, and should behave as such." He stalked out of the room with all the hostility of an offended cat.
Set looked after him bemusedly, then made a small noise of exasperation, conjured water out of thin air, and splashed it in Kaiba's face.
As expected, he spluttered, nearly choked, and jumped up off of his cot ready to kill whoever had dared to do such a thing to him. Set merely grinned widely – reminding Kaiba uncomfortably of a cat in a book he'd read a long time ago – and informed his host of everything that had passed while he was out of it.
After he'd finished, the only thing Kaiba could do was open and shut his mouth, trying to formulate a coherent sentence.
"You look like a goldfish," noted Set.
Kaiba looked as if he was about to explode, then squeaked, "He said in ten minutes?"
"Well, five now."
"Grrrr..." Kaiba knelt down and began rummaging underneath his cot. He threw a number of small items into his saddlebags, then ill-temperedly yanked out his sword – still in the scabbard – a folded blue surcoat, and sleeveless leather jerkin.
"What are all those things? How'd they get there?"
"Don't ask." Set looked on, puzzled, as Kaiba pulled the jerkin on over his blue tunic and buckled the sword loosely around his waist. When he opened his mouth again, the other shook his head, picked up the saddlebags and surcoat, and pulled the spirit – who was still perfectly solid – out the door. "Look. I've lived here for the better portion of my life. These things are all that I own."
"But – "
"Yes, I know it doesn't make sense," he snapped, "but we're stuck here, and the people who were here and knew us before we knew we lived here would go absolutely bonkers if we started gabbling about where we think we come from."
"All right..." Set said slowly. "So right now our only option is to go along with this?"
"Yes."
They continued down the hall in silence, Set looking askance at his host's strange-looking – to him, at least – outfit. Kaiba seemed lost in his own thoughts, but kept walking. They had just reached the huge wooden doors to the courtyards when he stopped and said, "Hold these, would you?" and unceremoniously dumped the saddlebags into the High Priest's arms.
He slowly unfolded the sapphire-blue surcoat, letting it fall open as he held it up at shoulder height. Now revealed was the symbol that decorated the front – a dragon, curling in upon itself and biting its own tail, interlaced by silver vines. But the dragon itself -- it was dark blue with a faint purplish tinge, with a feathery crest upon its head and almond-shaped garnet eyes.
Kaiba stood frozen in shock.
"What?" said Set, nonplused. "His name is Donovan of Dragon's Cove."
"But..." Kaiba's eyes were still fixed upon the embroidered dragon. "It looks like the...the..."
"The what?" Set said innocently.
"The Serpent Night Dragon," he said breathlessly. "You don't think – "
Set made a shushing motion with one hand. "Speculate later. Don't foreshadow things so much."
"I have no clue what you're talking about," Kaiba snapped. He added, more puzzled than anything else, "Is the surcoat supposed to go on top of everything else, or does the belt have to go on top of the surcoat? I thought I was supposed to know these things. But I don't."
Set backed up several paces and squinted at his host. "I think the belt goes on top. How're you supposed to get the sword out of its case otherwise?"
Kaiba unbuckled the belt – dropping it on the polished floor – and yanked the surcoat on over everything else, then picked the belt and sword back up.
"You've got thirty seconds," warned Set, handing Kaiba the saddlebags.
The other barely restrained himself from using a colorful metaphor, then pushed the door open and walked across the courtyard at an astonishingly fast pace while buckling the belt once more around his waist. Set followed, rolling his eyes towards the sky and muttering about how no one believed in a higher power anymore.
Donovan was waiting for them at the entrance to the stables, holding the reins of a black horse. "...three...two...one..." He looked up as his squire skidded to a stop in front of him. "Good." Set glared as the sapphire-blue gaze once more landed on him. "I'm not going to bother to take another horse besides the two we already have," he said casually, "So your look-alike had better go back to where he came from or be left behind."
Set scowled and disappeared.
A blank look crossed Donovan's face – clearly he hadn't been expecting that. "How did he – "
"He did what you told him to do, sir," said Kaiba, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You were saying...?"
"Your horse," the knight muttered, casting a dark glance at the place where Set had been standing not a minute before, while gesturing in the vague direction of several horses.
Kaiba looked them over, puzzled, then advanced towards the largest one – a huge roan warhorse with liquid brown eyes. The horse made a sort of grunting noise, then tossed its head as if in warning.
"Don't go near Gringalet!" barked Donovan. He was already mounted on the black horse, his armor glinting in the light that filtered through the stable windows. "Haven't you been told that already?"
"Uh...of course, sir," Kaiba said meekly while backing away. He could've sworn he saw fire come out of the horse's nostrils just then...
You idiot. You say you've lived here all your life and now you don't even know which horse is yours! Set grumbled, then added, Shouldn't you recognize it?
I guess so... said the other, somewhat shaken. He cast an eye over the other creatures on either side of Gringalet. Brown horse, no...grey horse, no...dark brown, no...white horse! Yes!
The creature looked friendly enough, and it nickered as if in recognition as he entered its stall.
Strange, the High Priest mused. White horse. Blue eyes. He laughed mentally. A blue-eyed white horse.
Just coincidence... Kaiba told himself. As an afterthought, he said, half to himself, half to Set, Her name's Chiara.
What? Set sputtered.
What's the matter?
Nothing, nothing...saddle the horse already! He's giving you a funny look. There was no doubt as to who he meant – the spirit seemed to have already developed a loathing for the knight he hardly knew.
Kaiba lifted the saddle from its space on the back wall, placed it on Chiara's back, then firmly buckled it around her stomach. Not loose, so it wouldn't slide and send him tumbling onto the ground, nor excessively tight. Then the saddlebags, one on each side of the saddle.
He led Chiara out of the stables to where Donovan was waiting none too patiently. In short order, he found the stool most knights and their squires used to mount – the knights wearing heavy plate armor sometimes needed help from the stableboys, but Kaiba – thanks to whatever higher power was up there in the sky – did not.
In several minutes they were walking slowly towards the castle drawbridge. Once past the moat, Donovan went into a trot. Chiara followed the other horse – his name was Gryflet, Kaiba somehow knew – and then he was in for the worst experience of his life. The terrain outside the castle was in no account even – neither was the horse's pace. Up and down, up and down, up and down...it was endless.
So you're saying the Seto Kaiba who's lived in Camelot all his life has never ridden a horse before? Set said with undisguised glee.
Shut up, he said miserably.
"How far is it to – " he began shouting over to Donovan, who was at least ten feet ahead, before the other's answer interrupted him.
"Not far. Only several hours' ride, as it's only been that long since Percival left."
Several hours?
Oh, no...
xxxxx
NEXT CHAPTER: Back to Gawain, Jonouchi, and the tale of the Green Knight.
