The Lost King

by Leilani Love

  “So, women fall at Lancelot’s feet and you fall at women’s,” Guinevere teased, remembering the first time they’d met.

  Arthur closed the distance between them. “Only your feet, princess. I’ve only ever fallen at yours.”

  Heat touched her cheeks and his eyes darkened as he started to bend down to kiss her. She closed her eyes and was tilting her face up for the kiss, when someone coughed, causing them both to jump apart.

  She blushed, taking a step back, as Bryan stepped through the woods. The grin on his face told her that he knew he was interrupting something. “Merlin wanted me to warn you both not to wander too far. He’s seen traces of Morgana’s men around. The wolves should keep most of them away but stay close just in case.”

  Guinevere nodded. “You fought with them before, anything I should know about them?”

  Bryan tilted his head slightly, not answering right away, as if debating about how to answer. “They are ruthless and determined. They have no problem killing women and children. They have arrows but seem to enjoy the up close and personal kill.”

  A shudder ran down her spine. She couldn’t understand how someone could kill a child. They were helpless and innocent and deserved protection. “Where have they been all these years?”

  Bryan shrugged. “I hoped that they were sent back to hell where they came from. Disappearing with Morgana.”

  Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “And my pulling the sword from the stone brought them back?”

  Bryan gave him a nod. “Arthur, Merlin has been telling me what has been happening in Camelot since your father’s death. Crops that used to flourish are slowly dying, the people are scared for their lives, or that they will be taken, never to be seen again. Boys and men are missing. Yes, you pulling that sword sent out a signal to Morgana of your return, but it also gave the people hope that the king has returned and will save them. You are King Arthur.” Bryan’s voice was strong with conviction.

  Arthur was silent. His jaw hardened, and he stood up straighter. The internal struggle was clear on his face. Guinevere touched his arm and tried to give him her best reassuring smile. “Arthur, you are only responsible for your actions. Morgana’s hate and jealousy goes back to before you were born. It infuriated her that your father loved your mother. Not even her magic was strong enough to break that bond.”

  Slowly, his expression softened. “You’re right. Thank you.”

  Guinevere could still see the struggle on his face and took a step forward to kiss him on the cheek. When she stepped back, his gaze had gone to her lips, which made her blush. She gave them both a small smile and excused herself, leaving them to talk.

  Back at the camp she took the hard cheese and bread that Merlin offered her. When a yawn escaped her, she decided to eat a bit before going to bed early. As she lay down, Bryan and Arthur came out of the woods. Before she closed her eyes, she met Arthur’s gaze and wondered how her life would have been different if Morgana hadn’t killed his parents. Would she be in his arms right now instead of sleeping on the furs alone?

  Chapter 22

  When Arthur glanced away from Guinevere, his brother smothered a laugh. “What?” he snapped, slightly annoyed.

  Tristan composed himself, a big smile still on his face. “The way you look at her. Reminds me of me of when mother is cooking, and a wolf pup is begging for a scrap. You even have a little drool right here,” he said as he reached up to touch Arthur’s face.

  Arthur jerked his head back, smacking his brother’s hand away, before instinctively wiping his face. His hand dry, he mock growled at his brother, who started laughing. Arthur narrowed his eyes and reached over and playfully shoved his brother off the log.

  When his brother finally stopped laughing they glanced over at the other side of the fire. Merlin and their father were both going to bed right after Guinevere, stating that tomorrow would be an early morning. It was his father’s way of saying, don’t stay up too late.

  “How does it feel to know you are a king?” Tristan asked, breaking the silence.

  “I don’t know yet,” he admitted

  Tristan nodded as he looked over at Guinevere. “Hard to believe there’s a marriage contract out there for the two of you from before you were born. You are the luckiest man alive, she is breathtaking.”

  “She’s amazing. You know how mother always tells us that a person’s action determines their true beauty? Guinevere is the most kind-hearted, giving woman I have ever met. She risked her life for her people and those of Camelot.” He was unable to keep the awe out of his voice.

  A knowing grin played on Tristan’s lips. “You sound like a man in love, big brother.”

  “I sound like a man who recognizes something worth fighting for,” he said, dismissing his brother’s silly notion. His brother was a romantic who fancied himself in love with whatever pretty girl he was flirting with at any given moment.

  “Are you going to fight for her?” Tristan asked.

  Arthur sighed and glanced at Guinevere whose back was to them. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  Tristan whistled. “If you don’t claim her, I will.”

  “You couldn’t handle her, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow is probably going to be even longer than today,” he mumbled, getting up from the log.

  The soft chuckle coming from Tristan told Arthur that he knew he was changing the subject. They lay on their pile of furs and Arthur put his hands behind his head and looked up at the night sky. When he was younger, his mother used to tell him how he had guardian angels in the heavens watching him. He now wondered if she was referring to his birth parents.

  It didn’t take long for Arthur to fall asleep and in what felt like the blink of an eye, Arthur awoke as the first rays of the sun were lighting the horizon. He sat up and stretched. Looking around, Guinevere’s space was empty, while the rest of the group was still sleeping.

  Arthur assumed she must have risen early and went into the woods to relieve herself. He got up to do the same thing. Heading into the woods, he kept an ear out, so as to avoid running into her, for he wanted to give her privacy.

  Arthur decided to stop at the stream on the way back to the camp to clean his face. Before he could reach the stream, there was a distinct growl from one of the wolves coming from the direction he was headed. Picking up the pace, he came out of the woods to find Guinevere sitting with her back to the water, her eyes wide as they fixed on Freki coming from the woods. The wolf’s teeth were bared, and he continued to growl as he stalked closer to her, the hair on the back of his neck up and ruffled.

  “Stay still,” Arthur whispered as he approached.

  Guinevere didn’t even glance in his direction as her head bobbed in agreement. Her gaze never left the threat in front of her. He fought the instinct to run as he approached with care, wanting to put himself between the wolf and Guinevere.

  When Freki hunched down as if he was about to pounce, Arthur sprinted toward him yelling, “No!”

  Freki sprung toward Guinevere, who screamed covering her face, preparing for the wolf’s attack. Without even touching her, Freki jumped across the stream. Freki landed and for the first time Arthur saw there was someone trying to hide in the thick brush. The dark skin and black markings on his body matched the man he had seen in his dreams. Freki sprinted toward him and they both took off deeper into the woods.

  At Guinevere’s side, Arthur touched her, and she jumped, removing her hands from her face. Her gaze darted around while her body continued to tremble. He pulled her close, trying to comfort her. “Freki was trying to scare off one of Morgana’s men from across the stream. Come, we need to warn the others.”

  She gave a quick nod and let him help her up. He kept a hold of her hand as they ran back to the camp to find the others starting to rise.

  “Freki is chasing one of Morgana’s men who tried to sneak up on Guinevere at the stream. At least one of those demons made it past the wolves. We should assume others have too,” Arthur announc
ed.

  Without a word, everyone went to pack up the camp. Once done, Arthur helped Guinevere mount her horse. As he helped her, her hand trembled and he took it in his.

  When everyone’s back was to them, Arthur took one of her hands and brought it to his lips. “You are the bravest woman I’ve ever met,” he.

  Guinevere blinked.

  “Let’s go and join Lancelot and Elizabeth and make sure they are both okay,” he said, wanting to comfort her.

  “Thank you,” Guinevere whispered.

  Arthur nodded and went to his own horse. Once everyone was mounted they all nudged their horses to a faster gallop than yesterday’s pace.

  The flashes of color through the trees told Arthur that the wolves were staying closer to them than yesterday. He worried about Freki. One on one with a normal human, Freki would win without question, but no man should have been able to get that close to the camp with the number of wolves they had with them and if one did, maybe others did too.

  When they rode over a hill Merlin pointed to the west. “Just over there is my keep. We should be there just past sundown.”

  They continued to ride until the last of the sun’s rays had set and the stars above them started to brighten, joining the moon and illuminating their way. As Arthur opened his mouth to announce that maybe they should call it a night, Merlin turned off the main road and onto a gravel road that had almost become overgrown.

  It didn’t take long before the woods gave way to a field. In the center there appeared to be a small keep about two stories surrounded by a handful tents. As they rode closer, the wolves came in from the woods, walking far enough behind them so as to not scare the horses. Freki was in the back, keeping an eye on everything going on.

  As they rode, the tents got closer and closer together and the men that came out to watch them were knights. There were colors from a few of the smaller kingdoms surrounding Camelot. The men watched them cautiously and when their gazes landed on the sword at his hip, they bowed their heads.

  Before they approached the keep, the door flew open and Wulf came running out to greet him. Arthur quickly got off his horse and petted his friend, who licked his face before joining the other wolves who ran into the woods. Merlin gave a whistle.

  Arthur stood and saw Elizabeth hugging Guinevere. Bors was behind them and Lancelot walked out of the keep, a big smile on his face. He came up and hugged him. “I’m glad you finally arrived.”

  “We’ve only been apart for a few days cousin,” Arthur said with a pat on his back, as Tristan and his father joined them.

  “Who are these people?” Arthur asked as more and more people came out of their tents.

  “We showed up this morning and most were already here. They said they showed up to help support the true King of Camelot and are here to help you take back your kingdom,” Lancelot said, his gaze darting over to where Elizabeth and Guinevere stood.

  “Where is your family?” Arthur asked, drawing his attention back to him.

  “My father and brother went to go tell the rest of the family and will be joining us here when they are done. Mother took the girls to Brittany. They are all ready to fight by your side.”

  Arthur was surprised by the number of people there. He still hadn’t fully decided what to do, but as he looked around at the men that had showed up, and at Guinevere, he began to think that the decision was being taken out of his hands. They didn’t see any more of Morgana’s men, but he knew that there were more of them lurking, waiting for a chance to kill them all.

  Guinevere was nodding her head as she listened to Elizabeth and he wondered what they were talking about, when she turned her head and her gaze locked on his. She gave him a nod and a smile before allowing Bors and Elizabeth to lead her inside.

  “I was surprised when Bors and Elizabeth stopped by the house to see if I was going to meet with you here. They must have travelled all night, spoken to the king, and then turned right around to come out here,” Lancelot whispered, as if he was worried about being overheard.

  “Did they say anything about what the king said to them?” Arthur asked, curious.

  “Not one word,” Lancelot said as he glared at the keep.

  Chapter 23

  Guinevere let Elizabeth lead her into the keep, Bors right behind her as they were ushered into what appeared to be a man’s study, and then closed the door so they could speak. “What did my father say?” she asked.

  Bors and Elizabeth exchanged glances. “Your father already knew that the sword had been pulled from the stone and people from all over have started to arrive to stay at the keep,” Elizabeth told her.

  “Why didn’t my father come with you?”

  Bors leaned against the desk keeping a weary eye on her. “Your father is staying to protect the people. When we left it was rumored that Camelot’s army would be there before nightfall. Only half the knights stayed in the kingdom. The rest went on to retrieve the ones that had gone home and should be arriving here any day now.”

  “What did he say about Arthur?” Guinevere asked.

  “That it was your duty to marry the King of Camelot and as far as your father is concerned the contract that binds you two since before you were born seals your marriage,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth.

  Over the last ten years, arranged marriages were less and less common among the women who didn’t have titles. The last few years more women with titles were starting to choose their own husbands, but unfortunately with her title, Guinevere was not allowed such a luxury.

  “Arthur is a good man,” Guinevere said.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “He is. But your father should not trade you from one man to the next. You have always given everything to your people. I wish your decision was based on love and not obligation.”

  Bors, she noticed hadn’t said a word. “What do you think? You’ve been very quiet.”

  “My daughter has been fuming since we left your father and I doubt even now she is done letting you know her opinion,” Bors replied, easily earning a glare from his daughter.

  “Please, Bors. You know I value your council.”

  Bors was quiet for a moment and she knew he was choosing his words carefully. “Your father believes that Arthur will fight for his kingdom. He is sending some of his best knights here to help when the battle takes place. He knows that most of the kingdoms will rally behind the one true king, especially with you as his bride. He said to tell you he is counting on you to put the people’s needs first.”

  Guinevere nodded, his message to her clear. “What do you think, Bors? What would be your council if you didn’t work for my father?”

  The struggle to answer her question was clear on his face. She knew he was loyal to her father, but she also knew that in some ways, he cared more about her than her own father did. Time seemed to stretch, and she wondered if he had forgotten the question.

  His shoulders sagged as he let out a long sigh. “I think Arthur cares more about you than Prince Greggory ever did or will, but he is still becoming a man. Unless he has made up his mind, he didn’t even sound like he planned to fight for his kingdom when we parted ways, so the question may not even matter. He was raised as a hunter and could use your hand in guiding him. No one knows more about putting their people first than you. I see how you two look at each other, and if he comes out of this alive, he would be a far better husband to you than Greggory.”

  Guinevere closed her eyes. There was some truth to what Bors said. The people would rally behind Arthur because when his father was king they knew peace and prosperity. But if Arthur wanted the support of some of the kingdoms, he would need to marry her.

  Marrying him would not be a hardship. She had no doubt he would treat her better than Greggory. In the last few days he had showed her more respect and kindness than Greggory ever had. If she married him and they failed, her people would be without anyone to defend them. If she didn’t marry him, he would have to fight alone, and he would lose, if he fought at all.<
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  “Don’t say anything to Arthur. I want to speak to him first. I will do what’s right for my people when the time comes,” Guinevere finally said, before stepping out of the study. She needed air. The walls seemed to be closing in around her.

  Despite all the people outside the keep, the inside seemed empty. The dust and cobwebs let her know that wherever they were, no one had been there for quite some time. Turning the corner, she ran into Merlin, who smiled at her. “Milady, I hope Bors had good news about your father.”

  Guinevere found it hard to believe the man before her was Merlin. If she hadn’t seen him use magic herself, she would assume he was simply a man in his late twenties. How could he have negotiated a wedding contract before she was born?

  “Yes, my father is trying to get all the people in the castle walls before Camelot’s army gets there, to save as many as he can,” Guinevere told him.

  He nodded. “I imagine your father had something to say about Arthur’s return and the two of you.”

  Her back stiffened. “He does, and I will discuss it with Arthur when we have time alone.”

  Merlin’s blue eyes practically glowed when they met hers and a hint of a smile played on his lips. “I understand, milady. After dinner perhaps the two of you would enjoy the view on top of the keep. It will give you the privacy for whatever you need to discuss. Both your rooms are upstairs at the end of the hall on the right side. The stairs that lead up are just past Arthur’s room.”

  “Thank you,” Guinevere said before excusing herself to see if there was anything she could help with. The rest of the night passed rather quickly. Dinner was served, and Guinevere was surprised to see that servants were there. Some of the commanding officers came in and ate with them, giving them updates on both Camelot’s army along with sightings of Morgana’s men. The night after Arthur pulled the sword from the stone, messenger birds had started arriving for the smaller landlords who, under the rule of the current king, had to give up almost all their profit to support Camelot. They were all sending what men they could spare with a promise of more when they were needed.