Christmas in Camelot (9 page)
Read Christmas in Camelot Online
Authors: Mary Pope Osborne
Using his memory and his imagination, Jack kept writing, doing his part to keep the legend of King Arthur, the Knights of the Round Table, Merlin, and Morgan le Fay alive.
As the snow swirled outside his window, Jack wrote and wrote and wrote. He didn't stop writing until he had written down the whole storyâ
his
story of their Christmas in Camelot.
M
any people believe that the legend of King Arthur was inspired by an actual military leader who led Britain over 1,500 years ago.
Imaginary stories about the adventures of King Arthur were first told in Wales and Ireland. These stories are called Celtic myths. Sadly, most Celtic myths are lost to us forever because only a few were written down. Many details in my story about King Arthur's realm are drawn from details in the few Celtic stories that have survived through the ages.
The
cloak
that makes one invisible was
considered to be one of “the Thirteen Treasures of Britain.” Merlin the magician was said to keep the treasures in a glass tower. None of the magic of the treasures would work for a person who was unworthy to use them.
The
white stag
was inspired by a supernatural Celtic beast that often led humans to a hidden Otherworld.
The idea for the
Cauldron of Memory and Imagination
came from a 6th-century poem. The poem tells a story about King Arthur and his knights traveling to a hidden world and searching for a magical cauldron of poetry and inspiration. Many knights never returned from that dangerous quest.
In the 12th century, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine encouraged poets and troubadours to make up more stories about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table to inspire her people. In the following years, storytellers all over Europe told heroic tales of King Arthur,
Merlin, Sir Lancelot, Queen Guinevere, and Morgan le Fay. French poets were the first to call the imaginary kingdom
Camelot
.
The storytellers of the Middle Ages blended elements of Christianity with the old Celtic myths. In their stories, miracles and marvels often took place around Christian holidays.
Christmas in Camelot
was a time of joyous celebration.
Â
Magic Tree House #30
Â
(A Merlin Mission)
Haunted Castle on Hallows Eve
Available now!
Excerpt copyright ©
2003
by Mary Pope Osborne.
Published by Random House Children's Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
“M
aybe I should be a vampire instead of a princess,” said Annie.
She and Jack were sitting on their front porch. A cool breeze rustled the trees. Autumn leaves twirled to the ground.
“But you already have your princess costume,” said Jack. “Besides, you were a vampire last Halloween.”
“I know, but I want to wear my big teeth again,” said Annie.
“So wear your big teeth and be a vampire-princess,” said Jack. He stood up. “I'm going to go put on my ghoul makeup now.”
KRAW!
“Oh, man!” said Jack.
A giant black bird swooped down to the ground. The bird strutted through the fallen leaves. Its feathers glistened in the golden afternoon light.
“Wow, is that a crow?” asked Annie.
“It's too big for a crow,” said Jack. “I think it might be a raven.”
“A
raven
?” said Annie. “Cool.”
The raven lifted its sleek head and stared at them with bright eyes. Jack held his breath.
The bird hopped forward. It flapped its great black wings and lifted into the air. Then he glided into the autumn sky and headed toward the Frog Creek woods.
Annie jumped up. “It's a sign! Morgan's back!” she said.
“I think you're right!” said Jack. “Let's go!”
Jack and Annie hurried across their front yard, crunching through the leaves. They ran up their street and into the Frog Creek woods.
When they came to the tallest oak, they saw the rope ladder swaying in the wind. The magic tree house was waiting for them.
“Just as we thought,” Annie said, smiling.
Jack followed her up the ladder. When they climbed inside the tree house, they saw no sign of Morgan le Fay, the enchantress from the kingdom of Camelot.
“That's weird,” said Jack, looking around.
The wind blew hard again, shaking the tree branches. A huge yellow leaf fluttered through the open window and came to rest at Jack's feet.
“Oh, man,” he said. “Look at this.”
“What?” said Annie.
Jack picked up the leaf. There was writing on it. The letters were curvy and old-fashioned.
“Wow,” whispered Annie. “What does it say?”
Jack held the leaf up to the tree house window. In the fading light, he read aloud:
“M!”
said Annie. “Morgan never signs her messages with
M.
 â¦Â ”
“Right â¦Â ,” said Jack. “But â¦Â ”
“
Merlin
does!” they said together.
“Like when he sent us the invitation to spend Christmas in Camelot,” said Annie. She pointed to the Royal Invitation that still lay in the corner of the tree house.
“Now he's inviting us on Halloween!” said Jack. “Halloween was called âAll Hallows Eve' a long time ago.”
“I know,” said Annie. “We have to go!”
“Of course,” said Jack. There was no way they could turn down an invitation from the master magician of all time. “But how do we get there?”
“I'll bet our invitation will take us,” said Annie, “like when we went to King Arthur's castle on Christmas Eve.”
“Good idea,” said Jack. He pointed to the fancy writing on the leaf. “I wish we could goâuhâ”
“To where this leaf invitation came from!” said Annie.
“Right!” said Jack.
The wind began to blow.
The tree house started to spin.
It spun faster and faster.
Then everything was still.
Absolutely still.
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