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Ben looked through his shiny new instrument again and beheld another spectacle. “Look! Just over there. I see a crowd gathered.” Countless brightly coloured streamers adorning covered tables and chairs lent a festive air to the prospect below. “It looks like a great feast!”

Darcy looked at Elizabeth sheepishly. “You must eat, my love.”

Paying no mind to whatever his parents were discussing, Ben darted down the wooden steps and hurried off in the direction of the merriment.

Once there, he saw Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana. “Merlin! What is all this?”

“What does it look like, Sir Lancelot?”

“It looks like fun! I am delighted you are here.” He turned to his aunt and bowed. “My lady.”

“Come now, Sir Lancelot. Surely you have surmised the perfect appellation for this angelic creature.”

Georgiana smiled and clasped her hands in anticipation, while Ben contemplated the matter. “Forgive me, fair lady. Indeed, you are such a treasure. You shall be known as Anna, sister of King Arthur.”

Arm in arm, Bingley and Anne approached them.

“Mr. Bingley! Cousin Anne!” Ben placed his fingers on his chin and tapped his lips a few times. “Rather—Sir Kay and Blasine. Yes—Sir Kay, brother of King Arthur, and Blasine, sister of King Arthur. I think that shall do nicely.” He turned to the colonel. “What say you, Merlin?”

“I heartily approve, Sir Lancelot.”

Bingley’s countenance clouded. “Merlin? Sir Lancelot?”

Georgiana said, “Oh, yes, Mr. Bingley. Only proper Arthurian appellations are allowed on such an occasion as this.”

“I see, and how might I refer to my good friend Darcy when I see him? Or do I even need to ask?”

Darcy must have heard all this as he and Elizabeth approached the group. “King Arthur, my friend. And who might you be?”

Bingley said, “It seems I am to be called Sir Kay.”

Darcy held up Elizabeth’s hand. “Sir Kay, may I present the love of my life, my sun, and my stars—my lady, Queen Guinevere.”

A trumpet sounded, heralding a start of the festivities, beginning with a feast. Everyone proceeded to the table, which was heavy-laden with assorted breads, fresh fruits, cheeses, and wine, and, in its centre, a wild boar’s head perfectly fitted for the occasion. Once everyone had partaken of three courses while being entertained by two colourfully attired court jesters, two knights took their places at opposite ends of the battlefield.

The court jester, who wore a bright leotard—red on one side and black and white checkered squares on the other, approached the table. He outstretched his hands before Darcy. One held a black and white cloth; the other a red and black cloth. “Choose your warrior, sire.”

Darcy immediately deferred to Ben, who sat on his right. Excited, Ben leaned forward and took the proffered red and black cloth. The jester presented the other to Darcy, and another jester stepped forward and encouraged Elizabeth, Georgiana, Anne, Bingley, and the colonel to reach inside his bag and retrieve a flag.

One by one, each chose their colour and, as a result, their stake in the battle. Elizabeth, who sat on Darcy’s left, picked a red and black flag. Sitting on Ben’s right, Georgiana selected a red and black flag as well.

At three to one; the odds were stacked against King Arthur. Sir Lancelot knew not to be too confident, for the battle—as it were—had not yet begun. The young lad mentally calculated the odds that he would indeed come out ahead with so many flags left unchosen.

Next, it was Anne’s turn. Black and white.

Then, Bingley chose. Another black and white flag emerged.

Young Sir Lancelot’s confidence waned, but not his hope. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s pick would decide the final outcome. How Ben wanted his friend Merlin on his team. Else it would be him and two fair ladies waging battle against his king, a knight, a maiden, and a magician. Ben’s mouth fell open when the colonel pulled out a black and white flag and waved it in the air.

Any disappointment Ben suffered faded quickly as he reconsidered his chances of emerging victorious. Yes, King Arthur’s team was larger, but Ben had Queen Guinevere on his side. Ben gazed at his knight who stood at the ready on the battlefield. What an imposing prospect he and his warhorse afforded. Donned in red and black, the knight was fierce, sitting high upon his beautifully turned out stallion coated in red and black garb protecting his head, chest, and flanks.

There stood his opponent on the opposite end. King Arthur’s colourfully attired knight and war horse stood just as proud and fierce. Winning the imminent battle was going to be difficult, but Ben was quite determined that his side would prevail.

With the sun high in the midday sky, Darcy gave the commanding signal. “Let the battles begin.”

The knights commenced a fierce jousting match that saw both sides cheering to see who could out do the other. Ben’s knight was jostled from his stallion, but refusing to surrender, he took up his sword and shield. The fiercest of ground battles ensued.

The thrashing and clanging of heavy metal swords against shields made for quite an exhibition. So excited was Ben that his enthusiasm propelled him from his seat. He stood in his chair and rallied his warrior on in the man-to-man combat. At last, Ben’s warrior emerged the victor.