Week 13 Story - Mission Impossible: Britomart

Britomart stood on the sidewalk, not bothering to hold the umbrella over her head even though the rain was starting to fall harder now. The sky was a slate gray, turning darker as the wind gathered speed, and all the other Londoners were turning their coat collars up. But Britomart stood still and the people on the street simply flowed by on either side of her. 

“Britomart, what’s wrong?” Said a voice softly behind her. But she acted as if she didn’t hear. Her whole body was tense, pulled taught like there was an invisible string above her head and she was straining against it. She was listening.

Suddenly a car swerved recklessly around the corner. An arm reached to pull Britomart back from the street as the car almost hit her. But pressed against the glass in the back window Britomart saw the most beautiful face she had ever seen. A woman, eyes wide, a silent scream barely heard as the car ripped away. 

Britomart leapt into action like she’d been electrocuted. Sprinting in the street, a motorcyclist came to a grinding halt in front of her. With one movement she grabbed the owner by the back of their collar and swung them off. Revving the engine, she sped off after the car, pushing the motorcycle to its max. She could barely see the car in the distance, and and she had to take shortcuts through alleys and over medians to catch up. 

They were in an empty part of the city now. The white car pulled into a parking garage and Britomart followed. What she saw shocked her. The car was gone suddenly, but seven men were gathered on the far end of the garage fighting. At first Britomart thought that all the men were fighting each other, but it became clear that six of the men were ganged up on one. The six men were dressed in black from head to toe, and were armed with knives, but the man fighting them off was dressed in only sweatpants and a hoodie - unarmed. 

Immediately Britomart ran to help him. She leapt through the air and landed on the backs of one of them men right as he had been about to swing his knife against the lone man’s chest. Britomart twisted her legs around him and hurled him to the ground, hearing his head smack against the concrete. She dodged a punch from another man, landed an uppercut squarely on the jaw of her newest attacker, and back-kicked another directly in the chest. The lone man was shocked at first, but once he realized that Britomart was there to help, joined in fighting again. 

Britomart in the garage.

Suddenly red hot pain shot through Britomart’s body. She turned to see one of the men withdrawing a knife from her side. Enraged, Britomart kicked the knife from his hand, and landed another kick swiftly on his head, sending him sprawling to the floor. Only one attacker was left now and he held up his hands meekly as Britomart picked up a knife off the floor and strode towards him. 

“Tell me what’s going on!” Britomart demanded, grabbing the man by the back of his hair and holding his head back. 
“It’s not his fault,” the hoodie-wearing man said. “You can let him go.”

Gingerly, Britomart released the man and he sunk to the floor in exhaustion. 
“Tell me what’s going on. Who are you?” Britomart demanded again. 
“Underneath this garage, there lives a lady. All who come through here are forced to serve her forever. Each one of these men - they’ve been held here for a long time.”
“What do you mean underneath this garage?” Britomart asked.
The man in black pointed to the staircase in the corner of the parking garage. Suddenly Britomart noticed that there were stairs going down, deeper under the ground. 
“Down there,” was all he said.
“Come on,” Britomart said. “It’s time I met this lady.” And strode towards the staircase. 

Author's Note: I retold the story of Britomart finding the Enchanted Castle in a more modern setting. It reminded me of a Mission Impossible movie, so I used images of Vanessa Kirby in action movies to represent what it would look like in a modern setting. Since Britomart was a Knight, I doubt she would have rudely flung someone off of their motorcycle, but I felt like I had to add that in to make it more realistic for a modern setting. 

Story source: Stories from the Faerie Queene by Mary Macleod, with drawings by A. G. Walker (1916).