The Lost King

by Leilani Love

  Guinevere tried her best not to dwell on what might have been. Instead, she shook off the feeling and cleared her throat. Turning to Elizabeth, she said, “I feel up to a ride. Some fresh air would do us both good. The air in this castle is starting to feel heavy.” She smiled. “Would you like to come?”

  Elizabeth nodded and stood up. “It will be nice to get out of this castle for a bit. I still find it hard to believe that this is the place that my father used to tell me about. It is hard to imagine people coming from all over just to see Camelot.”

  She nodded and let Elizabeth change her into something more appropriate to ride in before pinning her hair up, and then securing it under a hat that would keep her skin from freckling. Once changed, Elizabeth quickly fixed her own hair and the two of them walked down to the stables.

  While Micah was saddling her horse, Guinevere fed him a small carrot, stroking his nose as he bumped her. “You are greedy today. What makes you think I have more for you?” she said in a teasing voice, laughing when Dante bumped her again. She removed a second carrot from her pocket and fed Dante “Last one for now. If you are good, I’ll give you some more after our ride.”

  Elizabeth rode up, looking beautiful, and she couldn’t help but think it was no wonder the poor stable boy was in love with her. Since they were riding alone they were expected to stay on the castle grounds and stay at a slow pace.

  She let Micah help her up and leaned forward to fix her dress as she sat sidesaddle. Once she was settled properly she smiled at the young boy. “We won’t be gone that long. Maybe a bit longer than an hour. You should visit the cook in the kitchen. I believe she made some treats and if you ask nicely she will share them with you.”

  Micah’s eyes lit up and he gave her a bright smile, “Yes, milady. Thank you.” She watched him run away before turning back to Elizabeth.

  “Think if we leave the keep for a bit we can get a bit of a run in?” she asked giving her friend a pleading look.

  Elizabeth chuckled. “Well if by run, you mean being chased by guards once they realize you’ve left the grounds… then, sure. You know how much Prince Greggory loves you leaving the castle grounds.” Elizabeth said with a teasing grin.

  Guinevere tapped her chin. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and he will send me home to think about what I’ve done.”.

  “If it was that easy you would have gotten out of that marriage a long time ago, but one can always hope.” Elizabeth teased.

  The grounds were set up so that the front gate led to the heart of the market. The gate was kept open and had a continuous flow of people going in and out of the city all day. The back gate was on a road that led to a giant field. She liked to ride out back past the field and into the woods. During the day, the back gate was kept open for merchants and knights. At night it was lowered and only opened for emergencies.

  Guards were stationed at the front wall and back, but Bors knew about a side entrance that they used to slip in and out of Camelot with their horses. Bors was originally her father’s squire. He was with him when the previous king had shown him the secret entrance. Bors had shown them when they were younger, having taken it upon himself to make sure the girls had an exit plan in the event of an attack. She doubted he ever thought that one day they would be using it to sneak in and out of the kingdom, trying to save its people from a life of slavery.

  They went out the back gate at a slow trot. Guinevere smiled politely to the different merchants and people who called out to her. Once free of the crowd, they veered off the path to let the horses have freer reign, and gradually they picked up speed.

  Guinevere glanced at her friend and winked, “Race you to the woods.”

  Elizabeth grinned as she leaned forward on her horse. She knew her friend well enough to know that was a yes. Guinevere leaned forward and tapped Dante’s sides and laughed as he sprung ahead. They both took off for the woods. The sounds of birds taking flight echoed all around her.

  She closed her eyes and enjoyed the wind blowing through her hair. Riding had always been the ultimate freedom to her. She opened her eyes in time to see Elizabeth shoot forward and drove her horse faster. Her friend beat her by the narrowest of margins.

  They stayed on the edge of the woods for a bit longer, enjoying the sound of the birds and crickets. Guinevere looked toward the castle. She knew they were watching. Everything she did would be reported to Greggory and the king.

  Soon she would be married to Greggory and she knew that the little bit of freedom she enjoyed now would be gone. When she thought about her upcoming marriage her chest tightened and it was a struggle to catch her breath.

  “I’ll race you to the river,” Guinevere said, turning her horse to the woods. Before Elizabeth could say anything, she nudged her horse into a gallop, weaving between the trees.

  “Your Highness,” Elizabeth cried out. Guinevere ignored her as she continued to ride. She knew it was to remind her that they needed to stay in view of the castle wall or the guards would come after them.

  Panic crawled up her spine, sending all logic out of her head. Despite knowing the guards would come for her soon, Guinevere couldn’t fight the urge to put some space between her and Camelot. Before she could get to the river, two riders quickly came up. She pulled her horse to a stop and slipped a small dagger from her secret pocket, glaring at them until they backed away. Their faces were covered by the hoods.

  Elizabeth came to a stop next to her. “Step aside.”

  One of the men in front of her lowered his hood. His gaze locked onto hers before he said, “I’m sorry, but I feel like we’ve met before.”

  She forced a blank expression onto her face. It was the man she had saved the other night. Seeing him in the light of day she remembered why he looked so familiar. “You are the gentleman, who was so excited after visiting the whore in town that you fell at my feet yesterday.”

  A soft blush touched his cheeks. Beside him, his friend chuckled, and she couldn’t help but smile, felling as if she’d won some small battle. She started to pass, but he moved his horse to block her.

  “That wasn’t the only time we met, was it Princess?” his voice was teasing as his eyes sparkled.

  Shit! He knew.

  Chapter 7

  Arthur scrutinized her. During the ride back to Camelot he had been trying to come up with a plan on how to speak with her. Imagine his surprise when he saw her and her friend riding outside. When the two of them dashed into the woods they decided to follow them. She was almost as good a rider side saddle as she was astride. Some of her dark hair was coming out of the pins and he loved the shade of pink on her cheeks from the wind.

  “Are you one of the poor men who sit outside the castle?” she asked, referring to the people who wait outside for the kitchen staff to bring out the leftovers to feed their families.

  He shook his head realizing time was probably not on his side and decided to take the direct approach. “I’m sorry milady. It might have been too dark for you to recognize me, but you saved me. More than once last night. Not just me but my cousin here and a dozen other men and boys.”

  Her eyes widened, and she swallowed before tilting her head to look down at him in a move he was sure she’d used before to get others to obey her. In a low voice, she said, “I don’t know who you are, or who you think I am, but you need to leave now. You have me confused with someone else. And if what you say did happen last night, it is not safe for you.”

  Again, she tried to push past him while her companion tried to slip between him and Lancelot. Without thinking, he grabbed the reins of her horse to stop her. “Look, I need answers,” he said, just before the woman riding with her pulled out a small sword and pressed the blade against his neck.

  “Let milady go, or I will slice your throat before your slow friend here has a chance to react.” Her words were tense, and he had to smile. She was quicker than any man he had ever seen, and he admired her loyalty.

  From the corner of his eye Lancelot moved and Ar
thur put his hands up “Easy milady. I am not trying to hurt either of you. I just wanted to ask some questions. Those men in the carriage, where were they being taken? Is that what is happening to the men in the villages? I heard that some of the men were disappearing from some of the neighboring towns.”

  The distinct sound of horses coming caught his attention and Guinevere swore under her breath. “Let me go. You need to get out of here before the guards catch you with me.”

  “Not until you answer my questions,” he said, admiring that despite the circumstances, she seemed worried about him, a stranger.

  She sighed. “Let me go and I will meet you tonight outside the castle. Meet me at the inn. I will explain what I can, but you must leave now. Elizabeth release him,” her words came out fast, as if she were afraid someone would hear her.

  “Do I have your word?” he asked.

  She shot him a frustrated look, and then turned her horse back toward the field. “Yes, hurry. Just go,” she said between her teeth.

  He nodded, turning his horse back toward the road while the women headed toward the sound of the approaching horses. There was no mistaking the scowl on Lancelot’s face as they rode down the river toward the main road. Stopping when they got close, they let the horses drink, while Lancelot got off his horse and gave him a disapproving look.

  “Did you see how quick that woman pulled a knife on you? That look on her face said she would kill you, and then I would have been stuck telling your folks how you decided you wanted to talk to a Princess?” Lancelot ran his fingers through his hair.

  He tried to hide his amusement coughing to keep from laughing. He knew Lancelot was upset that a female managed to pull out a small sword and have it at his throat before Lancelot even knew what was happening. He wondered where she’d managed to hide dagger. His focus on Guinevere, he didn’t even see her pull it out.

  “Are you mad that a female got the drop on you?” he asked with a teasing grin. Dismounting his horse, he led him to a small river for a drink.

  “Where was she even hiding it?” he asked, his voice laced with a bit of awe.

  He shrugged. “I was too focused on Guinevere.” He grinned. “I’m willing to bet she had one too.”

  Lancelot snorted at his statement. He still had a hard time believing that it was a princess they saw riding last night. Standing in the stirrups, shooting multiple arrows was hard, yet she had done it beautifully.

  “Why do you care what happens to these people? We should just take the money from our trade and never come back again,” Lancelot stated, frustration clear in his voice.

  The rational part of him knew Lancelot was right. What was he planning on doing when he found out what was happening to the people? He wasn’t from here. He should go home and do what everyone expected, marry the farm girl next door, and take his trade elsewhere. It would pay less but, he didn’t need to get involved.

  As he thought about leaving Camelot to its own devices, there was a part of him, deep down, that dismissed the idea. He needed to know what was going on. He had always been drawn to Camelot and had to fight his mother for years to come out here. There was something here that called to his soul, and he couldn’t walk away. He needed to know what was going on, and Princess Guinevere had the answers he craved.

  “There is no future with her. She is a Princess. The one promised to the ever so rational Prince Greggory or have you forgotten. Even the idea is probably enough to get you hanged. I don’t know who is worse, the Princess, or her weapon carrying companion.”

  Arthur chuckled. “I heard Guinevere call her Elizabeth. You shouldn’t be so mad. Her job is to protect Guinevere, and from the looks of it, she is more than capable. You can’t really be mad that she is good at her job.”

  “Women should just…” Lancelot started to say, frustrated as he paced. The horse must have sensed his tension, for it shifted its feet, and moved away from him.

  “Stay inside and see to our needs?” he asked, unable to hide his amusement.

  “That is not what I meant. There is just no need for two women near the castle to carry weapons,” he finished with a nod.

  Arthur laughed. They both knew that women were not safe, and if either of them told their mothers that they should just stay inside, they would get an earful. His mother, Katrina, had often helped his father. She was decent with an arrow and capable with a small dagger. She had told him often that his father had shown her how to use it to protect herself. Lancelot’s mother could hunt and shoot almost better than them, so he knew his friend didn’t really mean his words.

  “She really got under your skin, huh?” he finally asked with a laugh.

  With a snort, Lancelot dismissed him and stroked Duchess to calm her down. They stayed there for a bit, and then got back on their horses. Arthur turned them toward the Inn which was just on the outside of Camelot. They could rest and eat before their meeting.

  Arthur lay on the bed, his friend snoring next to him, and stared at the ceiling. For some reason, since he had arrived in Camelot, his lower back hurt. It was always in the same spot. It wasn’t a sharp pain or anything, but he was always aware of it. Every time he left the area it went away like magic.

  As he closed his eyes he could see Guinevere before him. The first time he had seen her, she looked like an angel, innocent and pure. A white cloak wrapped her in a virginal innocence that stole his attention. He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered the way she looked last night, her body clad in black, wearing men’s pants that hugged her legs. When her cover fell off, exposing her face, she looked surprised. His virginal angel turned into an avenging one, and he loved the contrast.

  During their ride toward the castle, he heard her laughing as she travelled through the field with Elizabeth. Unable to help himself, he had followed that laughter. Like a bee to a flower, he was drawn to her, and his need to be near her overrode his common sense. She was royalty. They were from different worlds. He wasn’t even supposed to be talking to her, but he didn’t care that he was a common man, he couldn’t help himself.

  Even as he told himself that, he couldn’t help but remember the shape of her lips or the spark of defiance in her eyes when he asked if she remembered who he was. Everything, from the way she smirked and called him out for being at a whorehouse, to the intensity of her voice made him want to know more.

  The idea that she knew what type of women he had been with made him frown. Normally, he would not care, but for some reason he would rather she didn’t know. He didn’t want her to think of him with anyone but her and he could imagine the way she would sigh as she tilted her face up to his to be kissed.

  She was spirited, and he could imagine her letting her hair down as she rode him. He wanted to be able to look up at her, run his hand along her porcelain skin, and feel her come undone. The passion he’d witnessed when she was riding gave way to a bundle of new fantasies.

  As his mind started to fall asleep his thoughts wandered from Guinevere, and he found himself in a cabin. In the center of the room a man held a baby in his arms while someone else pressed something to the baby’s lower back. The piercing cry of the baby made him wince as the pain in his own lower back throbbed in response. Two men spoke to a woman he couldn’t make out, and then, they cut the baby’s hand with a long sword. The man handed the baby to the woman and a look of anguish crossed his face as he looked at the baby still fussing. He cleared his throat before he asked the woman to forgive him, then told her that it was her job to protect him.

  He was curious about the woman he couldn’t make out, and the baby, as the man re-sheathed his sword and went out a back door. He straddled his horse quickly and Arthur found himself seeing everything through the man’s eyes as he rode quickly. He didn’t recognize the road but was able to see Camelot in the distance through the trees. When they rounded the corner, there was a row of men on horses.

  Despite the fact it was snowing, the men were shirtless and covered in black markings. The man’s face crum
bled as if he knew his chances of surviving weren’t good. Still, he pulled out his sword and whispered a prayer, asking the gods to protect his son and his wife. As he raised his sword he let out a battle cry as he charged at the men.

  Arthur felt the man’s determination as he fought. Holding the men off, he was able to kill two of them before five more showed up, and the sound of a woman’s laughter rode on the wind. The man was knocked from his horse, but he proceeded to fight the men. Killing one more, he jumped onto some rocks, giving himself a height advantage. The painted men just seemed to keep coming. He couldn’t help but notice how dark their eyes were and the way their teeth were sharpened to points.

  As the man swung at the painted man in front of him, Arthur yelled as a sword stabbed through the man from behind. Instead of falling, he turned around and lost his own blade as it was knocked from his hands and landed between two rocks. The man staggered, before finally falling to his knees. The painted man sneered, flashing more of his pointed his teeth, while he swung his sword. Arthur cried out as he cut off the man’s head.

  He shot up in bed, his breathing ragged. Glancing around the room, he momentarily forgot where he was. He could barely hear Lancelot snoring over the beating of his own heart. He noticed the room had started to darken, letting him know that it was getting late.

  As he got up, Lancelot stirred and grumbled, “I’m telling you, Arthur. Let’s just go home. We are done here.”

  “I can’t yet,” he replied.

  “What do you mean, you can’t yet? It’s easy, we just go home. We have a life there.” An irritated expression passed across his face as he sat up.

  “I can’t explain it. I just know this is where I need to be, and I have to find out what is going on.” He knew that if he left now, he would be missing something. He could feel it in his gut. Guinevere and the man from his dream came to mind.