All together now. On the same page. In the same iteration.

Look at me now! (I mean ‘look at Sir Lancelot now’) crowed Malory Tennyson.

“little need to speak

Of Lancelot in his glory! King, duke, earl,

Count, baron—whom he smote, he overthrew.”

Malory Tennyson, the owner of Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies, was reclining on the porch of Cloudbank Cabin, watching all the Arthurian characters demonstrating their martial skills, in a practice session in the Fog Lake at the foot of the Cabin. With him were Little Plump Jo, the current Artisan in Residence at the Cabin and her overexcitable canine writing companions, the Dabrowski Dogs. The dogs were the only reason that Malory Tennyson kept Jo on as Artisan in Residence.

Dogs hear a different range of sound and Jo’s dogs provided a connection between Jo and the fictional dimension of Malory Tennyson and the Arthurian characters. Malory hoped to be able to direct the writing of the epic Arthurian tales as Jo wrote them. It would be more successful if Jo were a better writer. As Sir Bors had once observed to Malory Tennyson, “She cannot write a battle scene to save herself; and she cannot write a healing scene to save anyone else.”

The late afternoon light glinted on the surface of the Fog Lake and the cloudy outline of Camelot castle glowed softly in the background.

Psycho Motor Dabrowski was bounding along the shore of the Fog Lake, barking enthusiastically.

Intellectual Dabrowski was studying the action in the practice session and seeking references and citations to describe the equipment being used and the correct terms for the various sword strokes.

Sensual Dabrowski and Emotional Dabrowski were sitting on either side of Little Plump Jo and enjoying the Camelot Perfect weather and relaxed atmosphere of the day.

And the little Bedlington Terrier, Imaginational Dabrowski, was lying down close to Sir Lancelot’s massive companion dog, Heureux. They had become close friends since Imaginational had ridden in the litter with Sir Lancelot on his journey to Corbenic, to seek healing for his fractured femur.

It was Sir Lancelot’s first day back in action and he appeared to be in vibrant good health and performing with all his previous élan.

“The weather is the best it has been since The Glitch happened” Malory observed. “And the Fog Lake is much more settled. I attribute that to the return of King Arthur from his shortened long sleep on Avalon, ready to begin a new iteration of the Fog Lake Reenactments.”

“Mind you,” Malory continued after a bit of thought, “it was still a bit wild after Arthur’s return, before Lancelot went off to Corbenic. Events were happening in such rapid succession that it seemed the Fog Lake was swirling around and about to drain away down a whirlpool!

Imaginational Dabrowski came over and jumped up onto Jo’s lap. He was keen to tell Jo and Malory about the journey to Corbenic. All the other dogs came over to listen in.

“It took us ages to get to Corbenic. King Arthur’s physician, Morgan Todd, rode along with us and he insisted on taking the expedition in short, easy stages. When we got into the mountains the terrain was treacherous and it was impossible to make the travel any less exhausting and painful.”

“When we finally reached the gates of Corbenic, there was a queue to get in and right in front of our party was a young man called Perceval and the AI Galahad, which Malory Tennyson created, when he was too impatient to wait for Galahad to be born naturally. We could see that AI Galahad had a big square singed patch on his bottom.

There was a Guard With A Megaphone Voice at a parapet over the gate. I will call him GWAMV. He called out ‘Who seeks admittance?’ and Perceval said ‘Perceval’ and AI Galahad said ‘Galahad’.”

“Then GWAMV said ‘What is the question you must ask?’

“It seemed to be a password you needed to give to gain admittance. We all started to guess what we would need to ask. Perceval said he did not know. AI Galahad started a long statement about how the health of the king and the land were somehow linked and how there was a Glitch in the Fog Lake.”

“GWAMV said ‘So what is your question?’ Then AI Galahad repeated the whole statement twice more in slightly different words and then actually said the words ‘question mark’ at the end.”

“GWAMV said ‘What did you say your name is?’ AI Galahad said ‘Galahad’ and GWAMV told him to turn round.”

“GWAMV started chanting’ Liar, liar, pants on fire!’ And then a whole row of other guards appeared on the parapets, all banging on their helmets and joining the chant, ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire!’ like the Monty Python Taunting scene.”

“Next King Pelles appeared on the parapet. He peered at AI Galahad and said ‘No, he is not Galahad. As far as I know, Galahad has not even been conceived yet. And the scorched bottom attests to a failed attempt to sit in the Siege Perilous. Young man, it is wonder indeed that you were not incinerated!”

“Perceval said that he had pulled Galahad from the Siege Perilous and King Pelles said ‘You are a fine young fellow, Perceval. Go away now and come back in a few years when you know the right question to ask.’

Then King Pelles said to Galahad ‘As for you, even if you are not Galahad, I am interested in what you have to say. You may come in for further discussions.’ And that was the last we ever saw of AI Galahad.”

"So then GWAMV turned his attention to us ‘Who seeks admittance?’ Morgan Todd was our spokesman. He said ‘Morgan Todd.’ GWAMV said ‘What is the question you must ask?’ And Morgan Todd called back firmly ‘There is no question to ask. I am Physician to King Arthur of Camelot and I have scheduled appointments with the physicians of King Pelles, to determine the most appropriate treatment for my patient. We require entry without any further delay.’ We were granted instant admission.”

“King Pelles’ doctors from the East apparently did not want dogs in their rooms. So GWAMV took Heureux and me straight to the stables, despite Sir Lancelot saying he wanted his dogs with him; and telling Morgan Todd that Heureux carried, in a pouch attached to his collar, the herbals from Merlin, that he needed to take daily,.”

“We were very well cared for, but Heureux was fretting about his master. After a couple of days GWAMV tried to take the herbals pouch from Heureux. But Heureux snarled so fiercely that he gave up. A few days after that Morgan Todd came. He told Heureux ‘I have come to get the herbals. But if you want to snarl at me, I will use that as an excuse to take you to your master. And you can come along too, Imaginational.’ So we were taken up to Sir Lancelot’s room.”

“Morgan Todd said ‘Well these doctors from the Holy Lands have certainly taught me a lot about operating to realign fractured bones, plaster casts, cauterization of wounds, methods of combating infection and even resuscitation. But I can teach them a thing or two about herbal medicine and animal therapy!”

“Sir Lancelot’s leg was encased in plaster from his foot to the top of his thigh and there was a pair of crutches leaning against the wall. Morgan Todd told us ‘We will give him the herbals for a few days; and when we get the blackouts under control, we will start to get him walking with crutches. He is recovering well, considering they lost him during the operation.’ That came as quite a shock to Heureux and me.”

“You say he died during the operation?” interrupted Malory Tennyson. “And he was brought back to life?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent! Excellent!”

“Excellent?”

“ Of course! That means he has had his death in the previous iteration and is now in the same iteration as King Arthur is in currently. So we will be able to move on smoothly with the Fog Lake re-enactments now.”

“All that stuff about plaster casts and cauterization – did you make that up, Imaginational? Isn’t that an anachronism, Intellectual?” asked Little Plump Jo.

“No, if you had read all the material I found you about medieval medicine,” barked Intellectual Dabrowski, “you would understand that these methods were known then. In fact there is an interesting journal article in EXARC Journal Issue 2016/2: A Broken Leg in the Year 1350: Treatment and Prognosis.”

“And, I think you will be getting your Galahad this time, too, Malory,” continued Imaginational Dabrowski. “We thought you were being pushy with Sir Lancelot, when you tried to get him to return to the Fog Lake re-enactments with a broken leg. And then you were so impatient to get a Galahad that you made an AI Galahad. But King Pelles was even worse!”

“When we were getting ready to leave, King Pelles came in and said that Sir Lancelot must slay a dragon, lift a marble slab to reveal his name and title, and then bed his daughter, in order to give King Pelles a grandson. This grandson would achieve the Quest of the Holy Grail, heal King Pelles himself, and heal the wasteland around Corbenic. He wanted him to do it right at that moment, because Corbenic is so isolated that it might be a long time before Lancelot would return.”

“Sir Lancelot was still in pain, had the plaster cast from hip to toe and was just mastering the use of the crutches. He told King Pelles he would return when he was fully healed. Then King Pelles played his ace. He said that Sir Lancelot would have to save his daughter from the pain of entrapment in a steam filled room. And, of course, Sir Lancelot had to come to the aid of a Damsel in Distress.”

There was a chorus of “Of course! It was on his Hero’s To Do List!”

“Sir Lancelot wanted to skip straight to the Rescue the Damsel part; but King Pelles insisted he had to perform all the tasks, in the correct order, to prove that he was the proper person to be saving his daughter and begetting his grandson” continued Imaginational.

“Sir Lancelot drove out in one of King Pelles’ chariots and easily dispatched the dragon, when it flew up to attack him, with a single blow to the soft underbelly. Lifting the marble slab proved to be not too difficult, as it was on top of a tomb on a plinth and did not require bending.”

“Having proved his credentials, he had to climb the spiral stone stairs, using his crutches, to the tower where Princess Elaine was imprisoned. That was the most challenging task so far, as the steps were narrow and slippery and there was no hand rail. The places where the stairs changed direction were particularly difficult. Heureux and I bounded up the stairs behind him; but there was not much we could do to help.”

“As he opened the door, at the top of the stairs, a rush of steam escaped which almost knocked us all over. He hobble-hopped in on his crutches. We could hear Princess Elaine insisting that he must carry her out. Sir Lancelot asked if she was physically trapped. For example, did she have her toe stuck in a plug hole? Princess Elaine said ‘No.’ Sir Lancelot asked if she felt strong enough to walk to the door. Princess Elaine said ‘Yes, but you must carry me to the door and over the threshold to make the rescue official.’ At this point Heureux growled ‘You have to be joking, lady!’ Somehow Sir Lancelot managed to carry her to the door. Each step must have been so painful!

“He put her down outside the door and said in a ringing formal tone ‘Imaginational, please escort Princess Elaine to the foot of the stairs.’ In a quieter voice he added ‘I have to go back for my crutches and I think I will have to come down the stairs on my bottom. I do not want Princess Elaine to witness that and be disillusioned! It will not be particularly dignified or heroic!’

‘I steered Princess Elaine down the stairs and around a corner to a large hall. King Pelles was there to greet his daughter. When Sir Lancelot eventually joined us, his face was as pale and clammy as his plaster cast and he was taken back to the physicians. They berated him about the scuffed and steam sodden condition of the caste and set to work replastering his leg. He said, ‘It is bad enough that I am scalded with steam; but now I am scolded by medics’.”

“Not bad for someone whose third language is English!” admired Malory Tennyson with vicarious pride.

“When the replastering was finished, Sir Lancelot was keen to leave. But King Pelles instructed the physicians to refuse to discharge him until it was time for the plaster to be removed. Then King Pelles arranged for courtship opportunities such as banquets and picnics. Princess Elaine was obviously delighted, but Sir Lancelot just seemed anxious to go. The day the caste was removed, he thanked King Pelles for his hospitality and stated his intention to leave next day. That evening King Pelles held a grand feast in their honour. I do not know what happened after that. I was just told it was dot, dot, dot!”

“Well, now the future is assured for this iteration,” said Malory Tennyson. “I need to ascertain what episode we have reached. Sir Lancelot appears to be a young man in his early chapters. We are setting up for one of the earlier tournaments at the moment.”

“And now that the Fog Lake seems settled, we need to be very sure that there will be no further anomalies,” said Malory. “I believe Elaine the Fair, The Lily Maid of Astolat declaring she would not fulfil that role any longer proved to be the first action that provoked The Glitch. Elaine informing that she was now Lady Charlotte-Elaine, The Lady of Shalott and Entrepreneur Owner of Charlotte’s Web Weaving, was like a stake being driven into a sheet of ice. The cracks moved out from there as other characters were affected and plotlines changed. It reached crisis point when Sir Lancelot departed from the Fog Lake script and nearly got himself killed, and when King Arthur returned too early from his long sleep on Avalon.”

“So, in writing the stories in this iteration, Little Plump Jo, you must exercise better control of your characters. No more adding in new non-canon characters like The Exwyrminator and Portly Scribe Aforementioned. No more letting characters change their role or claim greater importance than they should have. No more Names and Backstories protest marches!”

Little Plump Jo and Imaginational Dabrowski exchanged guilty glances and giggles.

Jo noticed that carts had started to arrive bringing the traders and entertainers for the upcoming tournament. Among them she spotted a cart bearing the inscription

Thurifer Dwarf the Exwyrminator

and another particularly lavish cart labelled

Lady Charlotte-Elaine of Shalott’s Charlotte’s Web Weaving and Red Sleeve Care Provider Services.

And who was that over there, recording the vendor cart arrivals on a long parchment scroll? He certainly bore a strong resemblance to Portly Scribe Aforementioned!