“I do lose a lot of hats.” Galahad admitted, backing Trystan up.
Ayren shrugged, her eyes still on Trystan. “Your wingless sister need not be concerned for the knight’s safety. That is what I’m saying. I will claim him and…”
“No.” The denial was even more emphatic this time. “You will not claim him.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You think to stop me, Airbourne?”
Several gryphons took menacing steps forward, their hands on their weapons.
“Try it.” Trystan dared, glowering at them. “I’ve barely killed anyone today.”
Galahad decided it was a great time to interrupt. “I like men.” He blurted out.
Everyone turned to look at him again.
“What?” Ayren demanded distractedly.
“I’m very flattered. Truly. But, I can’t be claimed by you, Ayren. It’s a sweet offer, but… I like men.”
Ayren glanced back to Trystan, as if asking for a translation.
“They tend to be a limited species, in many ways.” Trystan explained, his gaze on Galahad. “Options confuse them. The knight has decided he will only consider offers to mate with males.”
Ayren’s eyebrows soared. “Can they do that? Consider only… one.”
Trystan gave another elaborate shrug.
Galahad didn’t appreciate being discussed like a science experiment gone wrong. Because he lived a life of truth, he also couldn’t just end the conversation there. His claim wasn’t entirely accurate. “Actually, at this point, it’s not even that I only want to sleep with men. Like in general.” He pointed at Trystan. “It’s that I only want to sleep with him. In particular. That’s the biggest issue.”
Trystan did a double-take. “What?” He blurted out in un-gryphon-like astonishment.
“I’m working on seducing him.” Galahad confided in Ayren, ignoring the oblivious jackass beside him and his almost comical surprise. “But mostly he just yells a lot and thinks I’m an idiot.”
Trystan looked like he still couldn’t catch up with what was happening. “Wait… what?”
“The Airbourne clan was widely known to be difficult.” Ayren agreed, nodding at Galahad and also disregarding Trystan’s shock. “Trystan is especially so. I blame his rearing.”
“Yeah, you were saying about Trystan visiting zoos and stuff?” Galahad prompted Ayren, because it really was the most interesting part of the whole discussion, so far. “As a kid, his parents took him to a lot of places?” Surely, he hadn’t gone to the zoo as an adult. The man carried two swords and an axe. No one would let him through the gate for fear of a safari.
Trystan shook his head, trying to refocus. “Wait, we do not need to discuss that. We need to return to the claim that.…”
“Trystan was stolen from his village as a child, by the wingless hoards.” Ayren interrupted, probably just to piss Trystan off. “They took him to your land and put him on display in a zoo. A ‘primitive peoples exhibit,’ I believe it was called. Their soulless eyes stared at gryphons through bars, reveling in their conquest.”
Galahad blinked. “What?” He said blankly and had a feeling he sounded just like Trystan had.
Trystan looked up at the sky again, like he was beseeching the missing gryphon queen for patience. “Lyrssa, help me not to slay them all…”
“He lived in a cage with other prisoners, for… how long, Trystan? Four years?” Ayren nodded answering her own question. “Four years. Much of his childhood.”
Galahad gazed up at Trystan, his horror shifting to fury. He didn’t like to feel fury. Whenever he got angry, things tended to get out of control. He tried to pull back. Tried to see through the red haze. Maybe he was misunderstanding this somehow. “My people locked you in a zoo?” He repeated carefully, praying he was wrong.
“It was long ago. As she said, I was a child.” Trystan muttered. He glowered over at Ayren, most of his attention on her. “Was that necessary? The knight was smiling and now he’s not.”
“Oh, their kind becomes emotional over everything.” She waved another hand. “Who knows what sets them off?”
Galahad was finding it hard to breathe. He’d once fought for people who locked babies in zoos? How could he have been so blind to right and wrong? How could he have stood with evil against the innocent? The shame of it would never fade.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to cry. He wanted to rage and kill. “I didn’t know. I swear. I didn’t understand until it was too late.”
Trystan’s attention swung back to him. “I am fine.” His eyes burned into Galahad’s. “This is not your doing. You were a child yourself. And I was never harmed in that cage. The other gryphons cared for me. I was protected. They got me out.”
“By the time he made his way back to our people, everyone else in his clan was dead.” Ayren chimed in helpfully. “No doubt that’s why he’s so attached to this wingless clan he’s claimed for himself.” She paused, her tone echoing with distaste. “Well, that and his grandfather.”
Galahad couldn’t focus on her words. Imagining Trystan locked in a motherfucking zoo was pulling him under again. He could feel it happening. He needed to let it go, before it was too late. Had to stop himself from…
Son of a bitch.
He couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t. Fury was building, driving out the peaceful calm he’d been trying to master since the War. Blinding him, as it hadn’t since Legion.
Darkness threatened.
It wasn’t just the village, resurrecting old memories. This was the inevitable result of the savage and undeniable connection he felt with Trystan. The strength and ferocity and truth of the bond. You couldn’t feel so much, so quickly, without it stirring up everything inside of you, Good and Bad.
And Galahad had a lot of Bad.
Deep down, he’d always known that he possessed both Good and Bad in nearly equal measure. It was one reason that he worked so hard to stay on the right side of things and never waver from righteousness. Because it would be simple for Galahad to fall into Badness and never climb back out. He felt it beckoning so often that he suspected it was a huge part of his character.
…And now some bastard zookeeper was about to prove his theory right.
Trystan might be Good enough to want to forget about being caged, but Galahad wasn’t. He would see anyone who hurt the gryphon dead. There was no other option.
“My grandfather was a great man.” Trystan told Ayren, sounding pissed, now. “He gave me my first sword and played catur with me often. Say nothing against him.”
Galahad barely heard them. God, he needed to kill that zookeeper. It was like a compulsion. “Do you recall his name?” He got out in as normal a voice as he could.
“Of course I know my grandfather’s…”
“No, the zookeeper’s name. Do you remember where he lived?”
Trystan squinted suspiciously, reading his Bad intentions clear as a wishing well. Something like concern flickered across his face. “You live a life of peace, remember, knight?” He said softly. “Calm yourself.”
Galahad’s desire to live in peace did not extend to risking Trystan’s safety. No way. That loophole was the size of a canyon. Avalon and Gwen and Trystan. He would risk the darkness for them, without a second’s hesitation. The drive was so strong that he didn’t even question it.
Galahad shook his head. “I just want to talk to this guy.”
…And then stab him.
Trystan didn’t look convinced. “He was ancient even then. He is probably dead, now. Leave it alone.”
“He’s going to wish he was dead.” Galahad snapped, giving up on pretending to be calm. Darkness lived in him, always searching for an outlet, and it just found a really fucking great one. “I’m going to kill him, Trys. Get used to the idea.”
“There is no need. That man was not the one who caught me and put me in that cage. He merely oversaw the zoo. He sometimes gave me apples, through the bars.”
> “Apples?” Galahad was losing his mind. It was the only explanation. “Fucking apples? Are you fucking kidding me? You think that somehow makes this okay?”
“I think I have far greater enemies than that old man.” Trystan arched a brow. “And I think you are swearing, again. You try not to do that, remember?”
“I don’t give a shit about my fucking language, Trystan! I can’t have that zookeeper in the world. He contributes nothing to making it a better place.”
“You do not need to fix the world.” Trystan was trying to pacify him, like he knew that Galahad was about to lose control. “That is not how you make amends. You simply need to be a Good man. Which you are.”
“I’m not that Good.” In that second, he knew it was true. “Not all the way down. You have to sense it, too.”
Trystan didn’t deny that. “You are Good enough. You do not need to kill all those who wronged me. I am fine, now.”
No, Galahad did need to kill them. He would kill them.
The more he considered his plan, the more it made perfect sense. How could he live a life of peace if that man was out there? No doubt he was still doing harm and should be stopped. Fucking laughing as children were dying in the grass and smoke spiraled into the…
One of the armed gryphons shifted in his peripheral vision, closer to Trystan.
And Galahad moved.
He didn’t think about it, he just acted. Suddenly, the man was on the ground, with Galahad standing over him. The gryphon’s weapon was somehow in Galahad’s bound palms, the blade aimed at the man’s chest. Other men were on the ground, too. Two seemed to be unconscious. Another was rolling around in pain. How had they fallen…?
Galahad froze, his mind catching up to the fact that he held a sword.
He must have done this. He must have hurt them. It had to have been him. There was no one else with a weapon in their hand. No one else standing over prone gryphons, as if they were burnt bodies under the August sun. Just Galahad. Only Galahad.
“Oh my God…” His stricken eyes went over to Trystan.
Trystan stared back at him, like he was seeing him for the first time. Like he was seeing straight into his soul.
“Look what he did!” Ayren was gaping around. “Trystan, are you sure you claim the knight? I really want to keep him.”
“Do not even think about it.” Trystan jabbed a finger in her direction, his attention still locked on Galahad. “You’re safe, knight.” His voice went soft, so much different from his usual surly tone. Almost a croon. “Put down the sword.”
Galahad shook his head and backed up a step, afraid to get near him. Afraid he might hurt Trystan. “I’m not… I don’t…”
“It’s alright. Put the sword down. No one here threatens us.”
“I’m sorry.” Galahad dropped the blade into the sand, like it burned him. Visions of checkered grass vanished, leaving only the small town and his own shame. “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I told you I could hurt them.”
“They will all survive. It’s alright.”
“It’s not alright! I wasn’t even here.”
“I know.” Trystan caught him, as if he was afraid Galahad would run away. “I know what happened.” He dragged Galahad closer to him. “But the battles you see in your head are long over. You’re not there anymore.”
“You don’t know! You don’t know what I did!” His voice broke on the word.
“It’s alright.” Huge wings moved forward to shelter Galahad. Wrapping around him, as he collapsed against Trystan’s chest. “I have you.” Trystan held him tight. “Goddamn it. I have you and I will not let you go.” It sounded like a surrender.
Galahad let out a shaky breath, his head falling forward to rest against Trystan’s shoulder. A palm slipped up to rub the back of his neck, gentle words he didn’t know murmured in his ear and Galahad found himself calming.
“That’s it.” Trystan’s chin rested on his bent head. “It will be alright. You’re with me and I will keep you safe.”
It did feel safe in the cocoon of tattoos and feathers. The only times he’d ever felt safe in his whole life were when Trystan was holding him. The repeated assurances that everything was alright gradually broke through. Gryphons were wonderful with children and Trystan was clearly no exception. He was soothing Galahad just like he would with Avalon if she’d had a nightmare. And it was working. His heartrate returned to normal. The world seemed to slow down.
And the darkness receded, again.
“You see why I can’t fight, anymore?” He asked when he was sure his voice would be steady. “You see, right?”
“I see Camelot shattered its greatest gift and then abandoned him to memories.” One massive hand brushed over his hair, Trystan’s voice soft in his ear. “But, there is too much light in you to stay broken and lost, Galahad. In time, you will heal.”
“No.” He wouldn’t heal. He knew that. There was no more light in him, at all.
“You will fight through this.” Trystan insisted. “You are a great warrior. What you just did here was… amazing. I have never seen the like of it.” Genuine admiration shone in his tone. “To forsake such a talent is a mistake. You should use it to do Good. As you did when Ayren was threatened by Percival. It’s why you were given the gift.”
A knight protects those weaker than himself.
Galahad squeezed his eyes shut. That was the one thing he still believed in with his entire heart. The bedrock of his self. The oath he’d taken as a knight to guard the innocents of the world.
Why could he never live up to the vow?
He pulled away from Trystan, not deserving the comfort. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, again. He was sorry for so many things.
Galahad looked over to Ayren, ready to apologize to her, too, and the poor guys he’d knocked on their asses. But all the gryphons were staring at him with understanding eyes. (The ones who were conscious, anyway) As if they knew all too well what images were burned into his head. As if they saw them, too.
“You are the same knight at Legion.” Ayren murmured. “Aren’t you?”
Trystan’s gaze narrowed at her in warning.
Galahad squared his shoulders, swiping his wrist under his nose. “Yes. But, that’s not who I am, anymore.” He said with as much dignity as he could muster. “I’m not that man. I’m on a mission to make up for everything I did during the War.”
Ayren gave him a strange smile that didn’t reach her eyes. How could it? She had no emotions. “Aren’t we all, knight? Aren’t we all?”
Chapter Seven
I’m not about peddling conspiracy theories on this show. All my regular listeners know that.
But, just think about it…
Do you seriously believe that Sir Pelles just happened to be hunting with the king…? Just happened to get drunk…? Just happened to miss what he was aiming at…? Just happened have his arrow hit King Uther…? Which just happened to ensure that Camelot would have no more Pendragons from his loins?
For real, people, it’s a conspiracy theory not to call bullshit on that bullshit. It’s all a lie of the winged devils! They’re all liars and we all know it!
A gryphon must have snuck into Camelot, hid in the forest, and shot Uther in the dick.
Plain and simple. It’s the only theory that makes sense.
“Stopping the Savages” Podcast
Sir Dragonet of Camelot- Former Troubadour of King Uther and Host of the Program
Lyonesse Desert- Cameliard Flats
“I just do not see how you continuously lose to puppets.” Trystan said, as he cooked the glatisant lizard on the fire. “A man who can defeat five gryphons can surely slay creatures made of felt. They do not even hold their weapons properly.”
Galahad glanced up at him.
The knight had been abnormally reserved ever since they’d left Ayren’s village the evening before. Trystan had spent much of their time together wishing Galahad would shut up for ten seconds, but
now he found the silence far more irritating than the chatter had been.
Quiet didn’t suit Galahad. Bizarrely, Trystan wished for the cheerful talking to return and speaking of the knight’s abysmal TV program always seemed to inspire the man to conversation.
“You have to show children there is a struggle involved in any task worth doing.” Galahad explained, his voice still flat. “In the end, Good always triumphs, though. That’s the message of all my programs.”
Trystan grunted and flipped the lizard, so it would be crispy on both sides. “This is a poor message. But then it is a very poor show.”
The two of them were sitting across from each other, alone in the vast desert. Darkness had fallen, so Trystan had decided to stop traveling for the night. The knight had to eat and rest. He was Trystan’s responsibility, so Trystan needed to ensure he was cared for.
He still wasn’t untying him, though.
Galahad bit off of piece of his cactus root, more animated, now. For some reason, known only to illogical knights, he preferred to harvest vegetation, rather than eat the freshly killed meat. Trystan had been briefly concerned the man would poison himself on some unknown plant, but Galahad casually informed him that he “genome mapped cacti as a hobby” and so knew about them very well.
What the hell was Trystan supposed to say to that?
Nothing had sprung to mind, so he gave up trying to feed the man protein. Clearly, Galahad was stubbornly set on his “conscientious veganism.” Watching Trystan catch and skin the lizard had seemed particularly distressing for him. It was very strange.
Glantisants lizards were oddly-shaped creatures, with long necks and cat-like bodies. They tended to bark fretfully when you caught them, which apparently pulled at the knight’s heartstrings. They were also mean bastards, who fed on children, but Galahad did not want to hear that. If it were up to him, all of Lyonesse would be overrun with the carnivorous little fiends.
“I think you miss the message of my series.” The knight decided, casting another disapproving frown at the cooking lizard. “You want it to be a fighting show and it’s not. It’s about making Good choices and showing kindness. It’s about teaching children ways to not fight.”
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