The Du Lac Legacy (Sons of Camelot Book 2) Page 12

  I walked toward Galahad and yanked him back. Both men were panting heavily.

  “Enough, the pair of you.” I focused on Torvec. “Take us home.”

  “Jealous?” he asked.

  “Yes, because right now you can give him something I can’t,” I said.

  Both men stepped toward me, understanding my pain. “Home,” I ordered.

  My eyes snapped open and I stared up at the beams and planks of the Echo.

  Galahad lay on his side and I turned my head toward his dark eyes, we stared at each other for a moment. “Torvec,” we said together. The others, especially Nim, began asking questions and trying to help us rise from the bed. We pushed them away and struggled from the room to reach Torvec.

  I realised we didn’t even know where he was being kept, but Galahad grabbed hold of me and dragged me toward the galley. We tumbled into the largest room under the deck and saw Torvec being helped up by Valla and Kerwin.

  “Leave him,” Galahad ordered. Both wolves were so startled by our presence, they followed his instruction and we reached Torvec. He’d changed. His skin was even paler and slightly shiny with a trace pattern of scales over parts of his exposed skin. He looked exhausted and he trembled violently. I reached out to touch him; those luminous blue eyes were tragic.

  I didn’t speak, there were no more words we could share that would take away the pain. I pulled him slowly off the table where he’d been laid, and held him close. For long moments he didn’t respond, until Galahad placed one hand on me and another on Torvec. The heartbroken dragon sobbed and his hands reached around me and for Galahad. The three of us embraced at last in the real world.

  I slowly drew back from both men and watched Torvec move into Galahad’s arms but they didn’t kiss, for which I was grateful. The heat still radiating off Torvec startled me and I swayed slightly, unable to maintain my balance in the rolling ship.

  “Steady, Holt, you still look weak,” Kerwin said.

  “I feel it,” I muttered.

  They sat me down on a bench and the others arrived from Galahad’s room including Aleah, who had replaced her glamour. The world felt very odd. My hands were on the wood of the table, I knew it because I saw it and they were feeling the rough surface, but I also felt the softness of Torvec’s curling hair and my palm marvelled at its texture. The linen of his shirt didn’t feel as fine as my own and I wanted to do something about it, I wanted to give him a better shirt; I’d need to find one in my room.

  “Galahad, please come here,” I whispered, the world a disorientating place. Not bad, just odd. The hand informing me about the quality of Torvec’s clothing touched my shoulder and instantly my body became my own again. I sighed in relief. “This is strange,” I muttered.

  Galahad sat next to me, Torvec sat the other side of him, he held both our hands and a ripple of peace spread outward from him.

  “How are you doing that?” I asked.

  “Doing what?” he asked.

  “He doesn’t know any more than I do about what he is,” Torvec said from the far side.

  “Holt?” Lance asked, drawing my attention to the others in the room.

  I smiled. “All here and all fine, I think,” I said.

  “You look tired,” he said.

  “I am but I’ll be fine. I think Galahad is sharing his strength to balance us all out,” I said, looking at him.

  “That feels about right,” he said.

  The others looked at us as if we’d grown two extra heads each, which in a strange way we had.

  “You don’t think you owe me an explanation?” Lance asked.

  I blinked rapidly, confused by his obvious anger. His eyes hardened. “By all the gods, Holt, you are the King of Camelot. And right now you are enslaved by a wayward dragon and a prince who doesn’t know if he wants you or not – and that’s being kind.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Galahad’s hand tightened on mine. I wanted to retaliate and with some violence but Galahad rose instead. “I understand your fears, Lord Fitzwilliam –”

  Lance stepped forward. “You understand nothing, Galahad.” Lance pointed into Galahad’s face. “You didn’t watch the chaos that happened to Camelot because of the love your fathers and Tancred shared. I remember it. I remember all of it. The deaths after our arrival here in Albion, the misery of people being cut off from all they knew and forced to live new lives. The terrible sleep that stole so much from us and that’s just the few things I can be bothered to mention. Nothing good comes from this – nothing. Holt, your desires are your own but the dragon is a better choice, at least he knows he wants you.”

  I stood beside Galahad, stunned at my friend’s words and horrified.

  “Once Galahad is on the throne I am abdicating, so who I’m fucking should no longer be a problem for any of you,” I said quietly.

  The silence following my statement was broken by a cry from the deck. “All to arms, enemy approaching starboard.”

  Trained warriors don’t fight among themselves when we have a mutual enemy rushing toward us. We all moved toward the deck. We and all the sailors not on deck already hurried up the galley ladder. The sun above us was bright and hard, the wind filling our sails, the waves breaking on our speeding bow. I turned to the forecastle and Raven stood with a spyglass to his eye.

  “Captain?” I called over the noise of others arriving.

  “There,” he pointed to the south east. “They are coming from the land over the horizon.”

  Galahad and I raced to join him. “We know they are enemies because?” I asked.

  “Look for yourself,” he said. He handed me the spyglass and I held it up to my eye, peering through with the usual difficulty. I’d never managed to master peering through one eye and my mind forming clear images; it took long moments to settle. When I finally managed to focus I saw a ship, just a ship.

  I lowered the glass and Galahad removed it from my grasp, while I turned to Raven. “What on earth makes you think they want to attack us?” I asked him.

  “They carry no colours, their ship is designed to fight and they are heading straight for us, tacking hard,” he said.

  “But we are faster, right?” I asked.

  “We might be but I don’t think they are moving completely naturally. I’ve been watching them for some time,” Raven said. He looked over my head at the sails and bellowed orders. I flinched at the sound.

  “Then we prepare for war,” Galahad said.

  “We don’t –”

  “Holt, we don’t know they aren’t here to kill us, conquer us or steal Aleah. They could be Eamo’s men,” Galahad said, cutting me off.

  “You just want to fight at sea,” I accused, poking his hard chest.

  He grinned like a wicked boy and yelled for Kerwin. I felt his excitement and watched him speak with Torvec quickly before they both vanished below decks once more.

  “Are you well, Sire?” Raven asked.

  I glanced at him; those sharp eyes of his were assessing me coolly. “Well enough,” I said.

  “You sure?”

  I sighed and walked to the helm where he stood. “Honestly?” I asked and he nodded. “I have no idea. I’m bonded to Galahad so he can stop a broken dragon from draining me of life.” I didn’t sound fine.

  “Bonded to the Prince of Albion?” Raven looked and sounded horrified. “You never wanted that, you never wanted any of this.”

  I gripped his forearm, tense from holding the mighty wheel. “I know. That’s the life of a king.”

  “You don’t sound happy about it either, aren’t you supposed to be happy about a bonding?” he asked.

  “I love Galahad,” I said staunchly.

  Raven snorted and shook his head. “Love,” he said with dismissive passion. “Love makes men fools. You never used to love, Holt, and you were happier.”

  “I never used to be king and I didn’t know Galahad,” I said.

  “And the dragon?” he asked.

  I watched Torvec,
armed now with a sword, arrive back on deck. “That’s a bit more complicated. I feel sorry for him, I care about him, but I find trusting him difficult. Now I’m bonded to Galahad I fear Torvec has power over two of the most powerful men in Albion.” I spoke quietly, almost to myself, and the shame of my words made my shoulders slump with unhappiness. “I just wish none of this had been necessary.”

  “Holt! I need you down here,” Galahad called. His eyes were bright and a wave of excitement hit me, like a physical pain. I gasped and winced. “Sorry,” he called out.

  I waved a hand at him, trying to breathe around the ball of joy which didn’t belong to me. I’d fought too many skirmishes over the years to find this exciting. My dread over serious injury to those I cared about overrode all desire to show off my supposed prowess as a warrior. I also watched Morgan stride on deck, sword strapped to her hip.

  “No,” I called out, climbing down the stairs toward the others. “No, Morgan, you get below decks. I’ll not have you part of this insanity.” I marched toward her and watched her eyes narrow. She looked so like her mother and when Galahad stepped up beside her I saw his father’s shade in his form and mannerisms. It made me falter, which is all the opportunity Morgan needed.

  “You don’t have enough experienced soldiers here to defend everyone, I can fight just as well as Nest or Valla,” she said. I saw the wolves come up the steps, both armed to the teeth.

  “I know that, Morgan, and I’m not arguing on that point but it’s my job to make sure you’re safe and it’s not going to be safe up here,” I stated.

  “Who’s going to keep you safe?” she asked, her blue eyes very bright.

  “Morgan, don’t start. I don’t need you testing my authority over this. Help your sister prepare for the injured.” Which is what I assumed Nim was doing.

  “She is just as able as me to help defend us,” Valla said from my right.

  “You aren’t part of the royal household,” I snapped.

  “Maybe you should let her fight,” Galahad said quietly.

  I stared at him in shock. “You choose now to accept the fact that she’s the one to govern her own fate?”

  He merely shrugged. “Better late than never. Father would have allowed it, right?” he asked Morgan.

  “If we were low on swords, he’d expect me to fight,” Morgan said.

  “Fucking, bloody, fucking...” my cursing went on for some time. I’d lost, Morgan would fight with the wolves. I’d fight with Galahad as we’d been sparring together so much.

  “I’ll fight alone,” Torvec said. “I can move to wherever I’m needed most. There’s no telling how long I’ll remain fey if pressured and I don’t want any of you near me if things become savage.” He tapped his head to indicate his dragon. “Galahad will protect you.” He gripped my arm and I nodded, holding his hand for a moment. “Besides,” he continued. “I’ve never fought with anyone else, never had a team to fight with or for, so I don’t really know how to be a part of an army.”

  His sad declaration made tears spring into my eyes and I yanked him hard into my chest to hold him tightly. “Just don’t die on me, Torvec. We need time to talk everything through. Galahad and I have no wish to hurt you.”

  He clung to me for a moment before gently pushing me away. “I know,” he said without meeting my eyes.

  “Torvec, promise me you’ll do nothing daft,” I said. “I want you alive at the end of this.”

  “I promise,” he whispered, even as a chill swept my skin.

  “Battle stations!” Raven yelled.

  I looked to starboard and saw the ship gaining on us quickly. Galahad pulled me toward the rail. “There’s no way that’s natural,” he muttered. He was right, the ship gained on us far too quickly.

  “What do you think?” I asked. “The Lady?”

  His eyes strayed to Torvec who stood behind me. “What do you think?” he asked and I respected his change of tone toward the shifter. He asked rather than accused.

  Torvec cocked his head to one side. “Give me your hand, King of Camelot,” he said.

  I glanced at Galahad and he nodded. I gave Torvec my hand and he closed his eyes. “I just need something to sense...” he muttered before his voice faded out. “Gods!” he suddenly exploded. “She’s on the fucking ship!”

  I’d never heard him swear before. His eyes locked with Galahad for a long suspended moment. “Are you certain, Torvec? I don’t mean to doubt you but...” Galahad spoke carefully, not wanting to provoke an argument. “I want you to double check. You are tired, we all are, and we have had a very difficult few days.”

  Torvec closed his eyes and took a deep breath into his chest and released it slowly. We all waited, the tension awful. The thought of facing The Lady in open battle made me feel sick. When he visibly relaxed and opened his eyes, they were very bright. “Her power, not her, you were right.”

  “I knew she wouldn’t confront us in the open if she didn’t have to,” Galahad said, and I watched his tension evaporate. “Right,” Galahad called out, raising his voice. “I want every-one to listen. The Lady is the power behind that ship. The fighters might well be her people. They will be ruthless and they will show no mercy. I suggest we do the same. They will be classically trained unless it’s a boat load of sailors. I want you to cheat in every fight. Honour is not something to hold under these circumstances. As far as I am concerned every man and woman here has more honour running through their blood and bone than there is water in this ocean.”

  “It’s our blood and bone that’s going to be all over this deck if we get this wrong,” someone shouted.

  Galahad lifted his head, standing even straighter. I watched him becoming a leader of men. He’d taken command and I let him.

  “I know men will be injured today, perhaps die, but you are men of Camelot and I know you are the bravest and best or my King would not trust you with his heart. You know I am just a prince, untested, but,” and Galahad held his hand out for me. I stepped up beside him and smiled at the light in his eyes, the passion. “But, I have my King beside me and I for one know that the ideals brought to Albion by the men of Camelot are worth fighting for and that’s what we are doing. We are fighting for our way of life, our liberty, our freedom. We are fighting for the lives of those left in Camelot, alone and vulnerable to The Lady and her ideals. Trust me, men of Camelot, I know firsthand what she is capable of and I do not want that for your families.” He reached out for Torvec, so we both flanked him. “We fight for the liberty of Camelot and Albion. This is just a small battle but it’s important for the war against those who would throw Albion back to time when men of Camelot were slaves to the fey. Let’s try not to let that happen.” He finished in a tone which raised a smile and a chuckle from those around us.

  He turned to me. “I am not a knight of Camelot, Sire, and I know you have sworn allegiance to me but I now swear my loyalty to you and your people.” He shocked me by kneeling on his left knee on the rolling deck and holding his hands up to me with his head bowed. He offered me vassalage.

  The moment froze, even the sea seeming to calm. It shouldn’t be important, we’d already bonded and confessed our love, but it was – it was the most important thing I’d ever considered. I’d be joining Galahad and Albion to Camelot as my vassal. I would be joining him to the elite of my people, a place on the mighty round table my father built for our government, a place next to his father’s seat or even replacing it. The political and emotional ramifications were many.

  Galahad moved, looking up at me. I’d been quiet for too long. “Sire?” he asked me and in those large dark eyes I saw his fear that I did not think him good enough.

  “Are you sure?” I asked him. I needed more time to consider all the implications of this act.

  His expression smoothed, his resolution clear. “I am sure,” he said clearly.

  I drew my sword. “You know the oath?” I asked. He nodded.

  “Galahad du Lac, I – King of Camelot, Lord of Albion,
Loholt Pendragon – call on you as a knight of Camelot, to swear fealty to Camelot, to me and to my family,” I said, holding the sword on his left shoulder.

  “I promise on my faith that I will in the future be faithful to my Lord and King, Loholt Pendragon, never cause him or his family harm and will observe my homage to him completely against all persons in good faith and without deceit.”

  “You are true of heart and intent,” I said, gazing at the top of his head, the black fine hair absorbing the sunlight, his strong shoulders covered in his mail shirt shining. “It is an honour for me to acknowledge your commitment to Camelot, to my family and our people. I in turn promise to fulfil my duties as your Lord and King, providing you with succour and safety for all time and defending you within the confines of the laws of Camelot and Albion.”

  I paused, the next part important. I straightened and lifted my trusted sword to place the blade on each shoulder. Galahad quivered, this was impossibly important to him; I felt his heart swell with pride.

  “Galahad du Lac, I dub thee a knight of the realm of Camelot. Rise, Sir Galahad du Lac, Knight of Camelot.” My voice rang out over the deck, the sword rose and fell in the correct order and suddenly the future King of Albion became my vassal. The ceremony was the same as the one his father had committed to but the circumstances were so different. Lancelot had been a lowly knight. Galahad already knew his destiny would be great and he’d chosen me.

  He rose and when he finally lifted his face to look at me, there were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks. “Thank you, your Majesty,” he whispered.

  The sailors cheered. Lance and the wolves stepped forward to offer congratulations and Morgan threw her arms around her brother for the first time to hug him tightly.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  While the congratulations continued Lance ambled over to me. “It seems things are going well, at least today,” he said. “Finally we have some kind of assurance he’s not going burn Camelot to the ground.” He didn’t mention our previous spat in the galley.