Lancelot and the Wolf Page 13

  Arthur’s hand trembled. I did not move one muscle. Whatever had been said between them I didn’t want to know or consider. “I accept your fealty, Lancelot, Knight of Camelot.” His words were all the benediction I needed. A wash of peace flooded through me and I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of us or our friendship. No one knew the truth of our love for each other. Together, Arthur and I would defeat all his enemies and Guinevere could just seethe from the sidelines.

  I heard the door slam and Arthur’s hand moved from my head. “God, what have I done,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I relaxed my hands and raised my head from the traditional position of the vassal to his lord. “You’ve claimed me for your own, so Guinevere can’t use me as a weapon against you any longer. It was the only thing you could do.”

  Arthur seemed to collapse in on himself. He sank into a chair and drank my wine in a gulp. His hands shook so badly he carried the glass to his lips with both, clutching it like a drowning man. I didn’t know what to say or do. I looked beseechingly at Else.

  She sighed, rolled her eyes to indicate the idiocy of men and knelt before Arthur as Guinevere knelt before me. Raising her hand she stroked his face, I watched him turn into her palm and kiss it gently.

  “What do I do now?” Arthur asked aloud of us both.

  Else replied, “We leave Camelot, Arthur. This place is draining you. You need to regain your strength. I cannot protect you here and neither can Lancelot. Leave others to gather an army because there will be war before this is over, but they don’t need you. We need you to help us find my father.”

  “I miss Merlin,” Arthur whispered. “I’ve missed him almost as much as I’ve missed you,” he finally looked up at me. “I take it you didn’t invite my wife into my chambers?” His blue eyes turned from calm cool lakes to stormy seas in seconds.

  “No, Arthur. I did not.”

  “What did she want?”

  “Nothing important.”

  “Tell me, Lancelot,” I heard the threat and the order.

  I obeyed, “She wanted me to rescue her from your clutches. She claims you are beating her. I told her she was a liar.”

  Arthur nodded sadly, “I have never hurt her, no matter what she has done to me. I have never hurt her.”

  “Taking Lancelot has hurt her and she will have her revenge,” Else said quietly looking at me.

  “She will never come between us,” I said and meant it. I wouldn’t give her the opportunity to reach my heart again, not now I had Arthur to care for.

  I heard him choke back a sob. Else moved into his arms and held him close. A strange feeling raced through me as I watched her care for Arthur. I felt jealous of them both, but I also wanted them to be close. To need each other as I needed them. A dangerous game having already lost one woman to Arthur. Would I lose my hind to the hart?

  Unable to cope with any more grief I left them alone and went to Arthur’s private washroom. The water had almost frozen in the large bowl but I took a clean linen cloth and washed myself, stripping off the foul smelling clothes I’d been in for hours. I dunked my hair into the remains of a bucket of clean water and ran my fingers through it, trying to take out the knots. It needed a good brush but Else didn’t like me using the horses' brushes. Knowing Arthur as I did I found some old clothes and changed into them. They were finer than my best doublet and hose. I looked longingly at his soft bed and wondered if they would notice my absence. I ached to lie still for a few moments.

  I heard voices and realised Arthur had summoned Kay and Geraint. I walked into the main room and a wall of muscle almost knocked me off my feet. Geraint hugged me to the point I began to feel my ribs bend. “I thought you were lost to us this time,” he said with joy.

  I laughed, “I will be if you don’t let me go, you great bear.” I smacked him on the back. He relaxed his arms. I relearned how to breathe.

  “I’m sorry I had to take Else away from you,” he said coming straight to the point.

  I glanced at Arthur. He looked away, uncomfortable with his recent behaviour. “I think we all need to take a moment for forgiveness today. We have all done what we thought was necessary.” I held Geraint’s upper arm as I spoke but I gazed at Arthur. It was not lost on my friend. Geraint nodded and turned to Arthur.

  I looked at Kay properly for the first time. Kay is about five years older than I am, I’m a year older than Arthur and Geraint is three years younger. Kay and I should be close, but he found me impossible to understand. If he hadn’t been born the son of a great noble, he would have made a wonderful bean counter. He stood shorter by a good hand than Arthur and his body already ran soft. A slight belly poked over his hose, separating them from his doublet and his hair had thinned dramatically, he appeared to have aged ten years in one, finally looking the age that suited his personality. His hair had once been the colour of river sand and his eyes a washed out blue. He owned a strong straight nose, which sat in a face made too small for its fine structure. Kay married when he’d been a young man, a sensible girl who’d become a good wife. But Kay wasn’t here because of what he looked like, Kay was here because he made a fine politician and his loyalty to Arthur had never been questioned. If I was Arthur’s blade, Kay was Arthur’s pen.

  Kay smiled at me, “It is good to see you home, Lancelot.”

  I blinked, surprised, “I am glad to be home.”

  “Thank you for saving him,” Kay said as he shook my hand. “You might have tried doing it in a less dramatic fashion, but thank you.”

  I grinned, or tried too, the bruises were making my face stiff, “If I’d done that you might have suspected I’d grown up. Then who would you disapprove of?”

  He shook his head, “Lancelot, you will never grow up and use your head rather than your sword.”

  “And I thank, God, for it,” I told him.

  “All very nice,” Geraint said lounging in a chair by the fire, “but why am I here at this ungodly hour?”

  “I’m leaving Camelot,” Arthur stated.

  Geraint raised his eyebrows and Kay said instantly, “Sire, you cannot leave Camelot. The Court is seething with unrest. If you leave it will cause a vacuum of power we cannot control.”

  “I have to find Merlin,” Arthur told him. Kay’s face closed down, he hated Merlin and the influence the strange man brought with him. Merlin offered no logic, just riddles and predictions.

  “You can send Lancelot to find Merlin,” Kay told him.

  “No, I can’t. Lancelot will be going with me, but I am the only one who might find my friend.”

  “So, you are leaving us in charge of the Court,” Geraint said shrewdly.

  “Yes, and you are to gather my army,” Arthur said.

  Kay blinked, “Army?”

  “There will be war with Stephen de Clare before this is over,” Arthur said having decided to believe everything Else told him.

  “Civil war?” Kay said, “That is madness, Arthur, he wouldn’t dare.”

  “Are you certain of that?” Geraint said sitting up. “You know as well as I that the man covets Arthur’s throne. The whole Court thinks Arthur has finally lost his mind since Lancelot’s banishment,” Geraint stopped and blushed, realising too late what he’d said.

  “Don’t hold back there,” Arthur muttered coming to stand beside me.

  Geraint grinned, “Well, that’s the first time I’ve spoken the truth in the last year and you’ve not threatened to throw me in prison.”

  “Don’t push it, I can still arrange for that to happen,” Arthur said crossing his arms over his chest.

  Geraint laughed, “I don’t think you could do that now you have Lancelot back. Anyway, Stephen thinks he can use Arthur’s instability to take his throne.”

  “Stephen’s not the only one to watch,” Arthur said. He sat, Else walked to him and I don’t know how it happened but now he held her hand. Geraint frowned at me. I chose to stay blank. “My wife will move against me, doubtless using St
ephen in the process.”

  “All you need to do is forgive Guinevere,” Kay said gently.

  Arthur looked up at him and I saw the anger. Else brushed her free hand through his hair and Arthur calmed instantly. Geraint opened his mouth. I shook my head slightly. Arthur said, “I cannot forgive her and do not presume to know what I need to forgive her for. Just watch her and control her movements. Do not give her easy access to Stephen when he arrives later today. We will be leaving before dawn, I do not want anyone to know where or why we have left. You will tell them I have gone on pilgrimage. Taking Eleanor and Lancelot with me.”

  “That makes no sense, Arthur,” Kay said.

  “It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m mad remember,” he smiled at Kay.

  “I don’t think you should leave alone,” Geraint said. “I know you and Lancelot can look after yourselves but do you actually know where Merlin is?”

  I began to tune out the talk. I walked to the corner of the room and sank into a chair. It was a long time after midnight and the night sucked at my bones. We’d be leaving in a few hours and I had to switch off. My eyes closed and my brain slipped away.

  “Lancelot, wake up,” Arthur’s voice dragged me from sleep reluctantly.

  “Time to leave?” I asked.

  He smiled, “No, time for you to sleep.” I realised Geraint and Kay still sat in the room. Arthur helped me stand, “I’ve been hard on you today, my friend. Go next door and sleep.”

  I looked for Else, but she’d vanished. “Where?”

  “She’s gone to pack your things and prepare your horses. Apparently, she wants to make certain you are a long way from Camelot before her brother arrives.” Arthur poked me next door and started to untie the doublet and shirt I’d borrowed. I felt his hands against my skin, my heart raced. He pulled off the shirt, “Get into bed, Lancelot and sleep. I’ll wake you when we leave.”

  His hand sat on my chest and pushed slightly. I stepped back to the bed and sat. Arthur knelt and began unlacing my boots.

  “My King, you don’t need,” I began.

  “Shut up, Lancelot, and hold still. I just want to help,” Arthur sounded strange but my exhausted brain couldn’t work it out. I think he’d been planning to say something else and changed his mind. His hand brushed up my leg and stopped on my thigh, the muscle twitched.

  Arthur pushed himself upright and suddenly turned me. I should have resisted but he caught me by surprise. His hand trailed down my back and I felt it move over the scars. “Oh, Lancelot,” he sounded breathless. “What have I done to you?”

  Enough, I couldn’t deal with this any longer. “Arthur, it’s over, please just leave it. It doesn’t matter.” I tried to turn back against his hand but he just moved with me to keep the scars in his sights.

  “I would give anything to take this back,” he whispered. His fingers strayed all over the thick lash marks. He lowered his hand, once more catching me by surprise and kissed one of the long echoes of my pain.

  I jumped against the hand on my chest, where he held me under control. This was a bad idea on so many levels. For a start, Geraint and Kay sat next door.

  I finally discovered my common sense and moved away from the bed. My damn cock thick and hard. How often had I dreamt of this over the years? Arthur remained with one knee on his bed, stood so close but his head turned away from me.

  “Please, Arthur, we can’t, not now, it’s too much,” I didn’t know what to say.

  Arthur slid off the bed and just walked out. I sighed heavily. This was not going well. I finished stripping and lay on the bed, switching my brain off and falling deeply asleep in seconds. The dream hit me like a series of huge waves crashing against endless cliffs. The images were frantic, the doe and hart tight together, the wolf standing guard, something evil sweeping from the woods and covering them in darkness, until all I heard were screams but no images. Another, Camelot, fire dancing and laughing through familiar streets. I ran on four legs hunting and searching for something I’d lost. Again, standing on the top of a strangely shaped hill, looking down over long flatlands before me, mists creeping through them. A man standing beside me, he looked down at me, his black robes tattered and dusty, his staff blackened and burned. He seemed so tired. His hand sat on my head, as he said, “We are losing. You must help.” The sense of loss sweeping through the man, then into me made me whine.

  I woke to darkness in a strange bed and felt sick. It took me a few minutes to realise I lay in Arthur’s bed in Camelot. “I can’t keep this up,” I muttered to myself, exhaustion made the world tilt.

  “I was about to wake you,” Arthur said from the darkened corner of his room.

  “Shit,” I sat up. “You startled me.” I squinted as he struck a light and a candle flared.

  “You were dreaming,” he said. I looked at him once I focused. His eyes were sunken dark pits. His flesh thin and drawn over his strong features. His colour grey.

  “You look like you needed to sleep,” I said trying to guess his mood.

  He shook his head, “I needed to drink,” he held up a skin of wine. Oh, joy. “Kay asked me how I could forgive you so fast,” he said, the tone bitter once more. I remained silent, though the same thoughts occurred to me. “I told him about the dreams. He laughed.”

  “Kay has never understood your ties to other worlds, Arthur. He is a practical man, he has never understood signs and symbols. He has never understood our friendship,” I said carefully.

  “Our friendship,” Arthur echoed dully, hanging his head between his shoulders. His elbows on his knees. The shadows drew close to him and sucked at him deeply. The thought disturbed me on a level I didn’t understand. I felt drawn to him so strongly my legs moved before I’d realised I’d flung the blankets off. The cold air nipped at my bare skin. I walked to his side and knelt, gently taking the wine from his unresisting fingers.

  I stroked the short blonde hair, “You need help, Arthur. Let me help you and we will bring Camelot back to you.”

  “You can’t bring Guinevere back,” he said.

  I paused, “No, I can’t. I am sorry.”

  “You weren’t the only one,” he said quietly.

  My breath hissed out of me, “I don’t believe that.”

  He looked at me his eyes haunted once more, “You should. She never loved me, Lancelot she thinks I am deeply perverted. She thinks I love you too well. I have been so jealous of your time with her but I knew it was the closest I could come to loving you so I let it happen.”

  I realised my mouth hung open. “Arthur, I don’t need to know this.”

  His hand suddenly reached back behind my neck and held me fast. His blue eyes were bright with powerful emotions I only half understood. “I need you to know it.” The weight of his gaze and his hand became a crushing stone, trapping me.

  I grabbed his forearm, more for security than any hope of disengaging us, “I will never leave you, Arthur.”

  “Promise me you will never betray me, Lancelot.”

  “I swear, my King, my brother, I will never betray you or give you cause to doubt me,” I almost tasted the wine on his lips we’d come so close together.

  “Am I wrong for loving you as I do?” Arthur asked.

  “I don’t know,” I replied as honestly as possible. I know what my body was saying but I had to think with more than my balls. “I do know you are deeply wounded, Arthur, and you need rest. You need to escape Camelot and you need time to heal. Ask me again when you are stronger and more certain of yourself. Until then,” I paused, hating myself for saying it, “we will wait.”

  He closed his eyes, his face moved a feather’s breath toward mine and our lips touched. The lightest of movements, his stubble rubbed against my face for a heartbeat or two.

  He pulled back more in control of his desires than I felt right then, he said, “As you wish, Lancelot. We will wait and I will heed your council.” He rose and walked away from me, yelling for his squire. The energy in him flipped so fast I found
myself reeling.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  When it came to the final preparations, it didn’t take us long before we were ready to leave the city. Arthur regained control of his somewhat erratic behaviour and I received a pleasant surprise when I walked into the stable yard. Geraint sat on his big ugly roan gelding.

  I laughed, “I thought you’d be here, protecting Arthur’s crown.”

  “What and let you have all the fun and all the glory, again?” Geraint said.

  Else appeared, “You alright?”

  I touched her face briefly and sighed, “I am now I’ve seen you, my love.”

  We travelled with three packhorses, our horses and the four of us. Gone were the days when Else and I travelled with simple packs and just each other for company. Arthur finally appeared and grinned happily. He was drunk. The haze in his eyes clear under the light of the just brightening sky.

  Geraint and I shared a look. This would stop the moment we were out of earshot of Camelot. Else frowned when Arthur patted her backside on the way to his horse but she held her tongue. I felt eyes in the back of my neck and turned in the saddle, Ash moved restlessly under me. I looked up and Guinevere stood at a window. Her beauty struck my heart like a dagger made from ice. As I stared up at her, I felt fear curl in my guts. She meant to hurt me and those I loved.

  “God, I bloody hope Kay can control that woman,” I muttered.

  Geraint followed my gaze, his hand reaching for my arm, “Don’t, Lancelot, the woman is poison to you, always has been. Don’t let her rattle your cage.”

  I pulled my eyes down and found Else staring at me. I smiled, a little shaken. She smiled back her eyes alive with the adventure and her regained freedom from Stephen de Clare.

  Arthur naturally took the lead as we walked out of the stable yard and through another large gate over the moat. My body hurt and my face felt sore, but I’d survived and gained his trust. We had met our objective and remained whole. Now all we needed to do was sober him up and find Merlin so we could retake Camelot.