The Pendragon Legacy: Sons Of Camelot Book One Read online

  “Sorry, half rations, we weren’t expecting anyone else,” he said.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I didn’t realise. Here,” I passed the bowl to Torvec, “you need this more than I do.”

  His eyes widened and he pushed it back. “No, I don’t want to spend the night listening to your stomach rumble.”

  “I’ll try and keep the snoring down then,” I said. I took the stew back, watching Galahad sit the other side of the fire and scowl at me while I ate.

  Valla, her enthusiastic personality bubbling up once more, badgered Torvec into telling a story. He chose something funny but I felt his exhaustion and once I’d eaten I pulled him into my arms. He relaxed into me and it was simply lovely to feel his voice vibrating through his chest under my palm.

  “Bed, no more stories,” I said when he’d finished. He looked up at me and I nodded. “I’ll organise the bedrolls.” I kissed his soft hair again. I rose stiffly and sorted out our simple beds, laying them side by side so I could hold him during the night. The entire time I felt Galahad’s hostility, it just made me more determined to help Torvec.

  When I’d finished I helped him stand and hobble into the darkness away from the fire so we could maintain some privacy. I began unlacing his doublet but his fingers stopped me. “You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly so the others didn’t hear. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  I kissed his mouth, surprising him. “I owe myself something and I want to do this. I don’t know where it’ll lead. I can’t make any promises but I do care about you. Let me try to be a good man and an honest one.”

  “I’m too tired to argue,” he said, his fingers dropping mine. I stripped him of most of his clothing, leaving his shirt to help keep him warm, and undressed completely myself. Torvec climbed into his bedroll and pulled his shirt off. His skin shone softly in the dark night. I wriggled into the layers of blankets and relaxed.

  Torvec looked down at me. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Nothing, except your wonderful body in my arms so I can sleep peacefully.”

  “Too tired,” he muttered. He lay down beside me but didn’t touch me.

  “I am sorry, Torvec,” I said to the still body beside me. “I wish I could take back what happened last night. You gave me the best night of my life and I ruined it.”

  “You did,” he said. Then he rolled over, toward me and I lifted my arm so he could press himself tight to my flank. “I forgive you but please, don’t do it again. It hurt – really hurt.”

  “I know. I won’t.” Even as I spoke his breathing evened out and he relaxed against me, asleep in moments. I kissed that soft hair again and closed my eyes. For the first time I slept with someone without sex being involved. Maybe I just needed to grow up and I’d find the love I so desperately longed for in this chance encounter.

  A hefty nudge with a boot woke me unceremoniously. “What the fuck?” I asked, reaching for my sword.

  “You won’t need that,” Galahad muttered, kicking it away. “Time to go, lover boy.”

  I blinked heavily and stared up at him but he’d already turned away and the dawn light threw him into a stark silhouette, hiding his face. “Nice,” I murmured and looked down at Torvec. He lay still, curled up on his side, close to me. I smiled despite the rude awakening and stroked my knuckles gently down his cheek. “Hey, wake up, handsome.”

  His incredible eyes opened and the iris narrowed considerably. The bruises were already fading and the cut over his eye wouldn’t scar now Nest had helped to heal him. “Morning,” he said, reaching for me. I let him pull me down and we kissed. His happiness extended to all parts of his anatomy and as I lay down he rolled over me.

  I heard a strangled noise somewhere to my left, causing me to pull away from Torvec with some reluctance. Galahad stood with a look of rage and confusion on his face looking at me. His hand clenched on his sword hilt and I remembered all too clearly that he’d been given orders to have me killed.

  “We need to stop,” I told Torvec.

  He followed my gaze and suddenly Galahad wasn’t the only one to be angry. “He has no right to judge you, we aren’t hurting anyone.”

  “Just stop. We’ll deal with it later, now isn’t the time. He’s under a lot of pressure and we aren’t helping. Keep it to a minimum,” I said.

  Torvec rolled off me and rose in one fluid movement, his raging hard-on clear to the world. An impressive sight at night, even more impressive with the sun glinting off all that pale tight-fitting skin. Valla whistled in appreciation, making Nest laugh. They were packing up the camp. I’d slept through breakfast. Galahad turned away with a look of raw hate, which burned through me and my own amusement died. I dressed without the fanfare Torvec insisted on using.

  “He can ride my horse. I must run,” Kerwin offered.

  “You don’t need to do that,” I said.

  “It’ll be safer. We don’t want to ruin Sparrow and you need to be unencumbered in case of a fight.”

  “Thank you,” Torvec said and took the offered reins. He mounted effortlessly and I watched him ask the horse to perform some fairly complex movements, involving tight circles, side steps and reversing. He grinned. “Good horse,” he announced happily.

  “I’m glad you’re happy. I’ll be sure to let the Prince of the Wild Wood know you approve of his stable,” I said.

  Torvec’s eyes widened. “I keep forgetting who I’m travelling with.”

  “Don’t,” Galahad snapped, his own fine stallion barging between us. “You are neither guard nor lord. You have no status.”

  “Your father would say he is your equal nonetheless,” I said with surprising calm.

  “My father was as tainted as you,” Galahad spat as Sherriff reared in distress at his confusing anger.

  Torvec glanced at me and I shook head. “Don’t provoke him.”

  Eight days we travelled hard with Torvec and Galahad circling each other – the rest of us trying to keep the peace. I didn’t manage to spend any time with Torvec as Galahad constantly found ways of separating us. It made me increasingly irritable. Each night we’d manage to cuddle under our blankets but sex just wasn’t possible and if I strayed too far from the camp, I caused a row.

  I silently prayed Morgana still lived and would be lucid enough to help when we reached The City. Eventually, we hit the edge of what had once been Lord Rafe’s lands but now belonged to the Fitzwilliam family courtesy of Morgana and I called a halt.

  “We can rest here for tonight. It’s Camelot’s. I need to rest. My side isn’t healing,” I said.

  “And my mother is dying,” Galahad announced. “How far do we have to go?”

  “It’s another day. These lands are almost a day’s journey from one end to the other,” I said, trying to be reasonable. Nest sat in the long grass panting, Torvec rode her mare.

  “We ride on.”

  “Galahad,” Valla tried. “I know it’s hard, but we all need to rest. Look at Holt, he’s going to get sick again if we aren’t careful.”

  “No,” I said. “Galahad’s right. We need to get him home. We ride on. I can always peel off and explain to Lance if I have to.”

  “Lance?” Galahad asked.

  “Lord Fitzwilliam, he was named after your father. His parents were close to both families and still are. His twin, Thomas, is married to my sister and currently ruling Camelot in my stead,” I explained because he’d never bothered to ask.

  Galahad nodded, turned Sherriff who looked as exhausted as I felt, and we galloped into the late afternoon light.

  I should be angry with him but as I’d explained to Torvec, we were travelling with a young man who’d never left The Lady’s underwater lair. Lancelot had made it clear to me what it was like and even if she treated Galahad with kindness it still wouldn’t be fun. He travelled with people he didn’t know, that he’d been raised to hate or at the least mistrust. He’d been forced to deal with Torvec and the awful reality he rode to watch his mother die. Torvec
kept telling stories for the others each night about how wonderful Morgana and Lancelot had been as rulers, but Galahad listened in stony silence, doubtless trying to work out the lies and the truths he’d been fed by The Lady. Galahad knew all the social graces, how to fight and had been educated to the level of a true scholar – but of people? Of people he knew nothing.

  We rode through the night on a well-built road and I knew we’d arrive at The City around noon. Then we would see if Morgana still lived.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I let the others ride on because I wanted to give Torvec a treat. We were trotting up a hill, letting the horses take a short break, and I knew what waited at the top.

  “Close your eyes,” I said.

  Torvec frowned but obeyed. I grabbed his reins and we crested the hill. The midday sun shone down on the valley containing The City and Camelot off to the right. A long wide river ran past one and through the other. The whole valley now contained small farmsteads and villages. Peace brought us all prosperity and Albion had enjoyed decades of harmony.

  The horses stopped gratefully and I said, “Open your eyes, minstrel of Albion.”

  Torvec, the man who conjured his own version of The City from his fertile imagination, sat dumbstruck by the vision before him. I grinned, knowing exactly how beautiful the world would look through his expressive eyes.

  “Oh,” he managed eventually. “Oh. Look.” He pointed.

  I laughed. “Yes.”

  “There aren’t words,” he claimed.

  “Well, if there are, you’re the person to find them,” I told him.

  The sun glinted off the polished towers in and around the palace complex; the vast green arena, which the Brownies had convinced Lancelot needed to stay despite his loathing for the place, grew to the left of the palace grounds. The other fine buildings of the nobles graced the skyline with fine minarets of their own and large green parks. The river glinted in the centre and the houses of the merchant classes were made of fine stone painted white, with red roofs. The poor, closer to the walls of the city, lived in squashed tenements Morgana constantly fought to upgrade but never really managed to help. The City shone like a jewel.

  “And that is Camelot,” I said, pointing to the east.

  She sat on the river’s edge, still looking a little out of place, her walls tall and strong, her fortress formidable and her people more stoic than those of The City.

  Torvec laughed with tears in his eyes. “Camelot looks like the grumpy older brother of the flamboyant younger sister.”

  I smiled and nodded. “That’s a good description, that’s how it feels sometimes. But Camelot has its own joys.”

  He reached out and touched my thigh. “I can see that,” he said. “Thank you for this and thank you for understanding I’d love to see it like this – with you.”

  I felt myself flush red. I’d been seeking out small ways to please him all week. It made my stomach flip whenever I made him smile. “Come on,” I said to cover my confused joy. “Galahad needs to see his mother.”

  We prodded the horses into a lopping gallop and raced down the hill toward the others. Galahad hadn’t taken a single glance at the beauty of the place despite the fact he didn’t remember a damned thing about it or his parents.

  I sighed heavily. It would not be a joyous homecoming for any of us.

  When we reached The City’s vast gates the guards recognised me and I didn’t need the seal. I spoke with them quietly and we discovered the Queen still lived. Galahad shifted constantly and Sherriff behaved as though on a war footing. We rode through the tangle of streets which housed the poor and into the more organised areas of the merchant quarters. The streets were quiet. Really quiet. I’d never seen them so empty. Torvec stared around him constantly and a list of questions a league long bubbled out of him. I managed to hush him eventually.

  “I’ll answer all, but not now, Torvec.” I reached into my purse and pulled out a key. “We are going to be riding past my private house. This is the key. You need to go there and I’ll join you when I can.”

  Torvec stared at me, down to the key and back to me. “You’re giving me a key to your house?”

  I’d been thinking about this for days. He had no money, nowhere to stay and I’d lose him in the vast warren of streets dedicated to ‘fun’. I nodded curtly. “Yes, it’s the key to my house. It’s not much. There’ll be no food and I should imagine everything is damp, but it is mine. I can’t always stay in the palace. I need my own space so I bought a house. It’s near the palace grounds. Here is some money for food. Make yourself at home and I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

  He still didn’t reach for the key. My fingers began to close. “If you have a plan though, if you don’t want it. That’s fine. I just wanted to help you find your feet here. I don’t expect anything in return...” The worms in my stomach crawled and squirmed the longer he remained silent.

  His deep and shining eyes stared into me. “Thank you,” he said and he finally reached for my hand. “I thought I’d be here alone. I’ve always been alone.”

  “It’s not like you’ll be living with me. You’ll have the run of The City,” I said hurriedly.

  He looked away. “I don’t expect anything from you,” he said quietly.

  I realised what I’d said, he wanted some kind of commitment from me and I’d just given it with one hand, while removing it with the other. I focused on Sparrow’s ears for a moment trying to figure this out.

  “I want you to think of my home as yours,” I said. “Until you choose otherwise or we call it quits between us.” The words rushed out and hovered over me in a slightly panicked haze.

  “Thank you,” Torvec said and he flushed pink, a soft smile making him look utterly adorable.

  I pressed the key into his hand. “Good.”

  So, I had a lover living with me in my own home. That was new.

  The freakishly quiet streets meant we made good time through The City and into its heart. I pointed out a small side street to Torvec and said my home sat waiting for its owner at the end. He smiled shyly.

  “I’ll be there for you whenever you need to come back,” he said. “I know this is going to be difficult. Just know I’m here.” He squeezed my hand and I think he’d have kissed me but Galahad was already moving on and I needed to keep up.

  I rode after the young prince.

  Unsurprisingly Quilliam waited for us at the small side gate I chose to lead us through. I didn’t want to announce Galahad’s presence to the gossips just yet and this small entrance kept things private.

  “Lord Pendragon, it is good to see you returned,” said the Brownie.

  “It is good to see you, old friend,” I said, dismounting from Sparrow. “May I introduce Galahad du Lac, Prince of Albion? Galahad, this is Quilliam. Anything you need you just ask a Brownie and they will help if they can, Quilliam is the beating heart of Albion. Without him, nothing would get done.”

  Quilliam bowed toward Galahad. “It is wonderful to see you again, Highness. We have waited a long time for you to be returned to us. Your mother is anxious to see you.”

  “Do I know you?” Galahad asked. A Brownie took Sherriff’s reins from his nerveless fingers without him noticing. I let them lead Sparrow off and placed a gentle hand on Galahad’s shoulder.

  “Quilliam was your father’s personal servant and will be yours when you win the throne. He used to help look after you when you were small. He was there when you were born,” I said.

  Galahad nodded briskly. “I see.”

  For the first time in days I looked at him properly. Dark circles were under his eyes, he’d lost weight and looked... He looked fragile. The others just stood silently, watching for trouble and knowing they were not a part of the coming tragedy.

  “If you would like to come this way. The Queen felt you nearing The City and she waiting for you both,” Quilliam said. In all the years I’d known him the Brownie had never changed. I knew he’d been here when Aeddan rul
ed and he’d now been here for all the years of Morgana’s reign. No one asked about Brownie lives. My father knew more than most but he never spoke about it, saying they deserved their privacy for all the help they gave us.

  We followed the small man through the labyrinth of paths and corridors which led to the heart of the palace and the royal apartments. I maintained private quarters so I didn’t have to answer to anyone in this part of the palace. I valued the privacy being here gave me, often choosing to remain in The City rather than Camelot, but the palace itself never seemed to close the doors on gossip, hence my private home.

  Galahad stopped as we crossed a small courtyard. “I can’t do this,” he declared.

  I turned to face him and held a hand out, silently asking Quilliam to remain at a distance from us. “Why?”

  His dark eyes focused on me, they sparkled with unshed tears. “I don’t know her. She’s dying. She’s my mother and I don’t know what to say.”

  “Hello is a good way to begin,” I said gently. “Galahad, she’s been waiting twenty years to see you. Don’t make her wait any longer.”

  The muscles in his jaw jumped. “What if I’m not good enough, Holt?” he asked quietly.

  “Her love for you has always been unconditional.” I felt my own tears fill my eyes. Oh, this was going to be hard for us all. “Just don’t judge her.”

  He looked at the ground. “I’ve been foul, haven’t I?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said and gave no quarter.

  “I’m sorry. I can see how much Torvec means to you.”

  “Now isn’t the time, Galahad, but I appreciate the thought,” I said, surprised by his contrite statement.

  “He’s a lucky man. You are a special person, Holt.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. “You really think she’ll consider me good enough?”

  I held the young prince’s fingers tightly. “Yes, Galahad. You are so much like your father she will love you always,” I assured him.

  “And my father was a good man.”