by Jack Porter
“You lost him?” the King’s righthand man demanded. “You let him go even though you were told that of the three, it is Mordie who is the prize? You allowed him to run even after you were told that he was likely to be slippery?”
It seemed to me that Norman was trying to say something. He might have been trying to answer Sir Lancelot’s question, although not even I could have figured out what to say in such a circumstance.
But Lancelot wasn’t listening. He shook the man again, let out a noise of disgust, then literally tossed Norman to one side, as casually as he might have tossed a bone to his dogs after a meal.
Poor Norman landed in a heap and scrambled about as if trying to stand. But the way Lancelot had held him and the impact with the ground had taken the stuffing out of his legs.
In the end, he simply sat where he had landed, as Lancelot turned to Reg and Surl.
“Do you two have anything to add?” the head Blackcoat demanded. But both men shook their heads.
Lancelot uttered another noise of disgust. “Useless,” he said. “If I had half a mind, I would have you flogged for incompetence. But we are shorthanded, and there is still much of the city to canvas. Perhaps, if I am lucky, you might stumble across this Mordred again, or one of the others. If you do so, try, try to keep from fucking it up once again.”
It was a dismissal, and the Blackcoats both knew it. Even as Lancelot turned to the other men around him, Reg and Surl both let out a visible sigh of relief.
As carefully and quietly as I could, I made my way away from the Blackcoats, along the rooftops for a while, before dropping back down to the ground.
I had seen enough. More than enough. I knew that the search was serious, and that the Blackcoats wouldn’t stop until they found me, Anwen, and Rolf.
And more, I had seen for myself that Lancelot was far from a spent force. He was perhaps the most powerful, dangerous man I had ever seen.
21
I thought about Lancelot’s actions and what he had said as I made my way back to the Goose and Quill. I had underestimated both his physical strength and the level of his desire to find me. I couldn’t help but think I was putting the people I cared about at risk, just by being there with them.
With Sir George working his way under my coat to keep out of the worsening rain, I determined to lessen that risk as much as I could.
Meghan had once gifted me a potion that changed the shape of my face, my hair color, all my features. Perhaps she had something a little more permanent, I thought again. And maybe I would do better using a different name for a while as well.
I decided to see the enchantress as soon as I could. It was too late in the day, and too miserable to boot to head over to her place today, but perhaps I would tomorrow.
And anyway, I needed to find out what Elaine, Jacob, and Ember had done with Rolf. Elaine said she knew a place she could take him. But I didn’t know where that was.
But when I got to the tavern, I realized the point was already moot.
The normally busy, orderly place was a mess. Tables and chairs had been strewn about, and most of the patrons had fled, save for a few whose faces I recognized as being either regulars for guests who had rooms as well.
But of greater concern than the comparative mess was that Big Jacob was propped up sitting against the bar, with blood dripping from a wound at his temple. Elaine and Ember, as well as the other barmaids, had gathered around him with expressions of concern etched into their features.
“What happened?” I blurted as I hurried over to join them.
It was Ember who turned to me first and provided an answer. “Our guest,” she said succinctly. “He isn’t our guest any longer.”
Fuck, I thought. Just like that, my whole world turned upside down.
The Blackcoat was dangerous and unpredictable. I had no idea where he might go, or what he might do.
But to more immediate concern was Ember’s brother.
“Jacob?” I said out loud, and I could tell that he’d had better days.
His gaze was unfocused, and there seemed to be a lot of blood.
“He took a knock to the head,” Ember said. “But he’s starting to come out of it now.”
To my surprise, she managed a smile. “It’s not the first time that has happened. He will be fine. But it might have been worse if it wasn’t for your friend.”
I turned my attention to the woman in question, and noticed that there was the beginning of a bruise on the side of Elaine’s cheek as well. Instinctively, I moved toward her.
“Did he hurt you?” I demanded, realizing as I spoke that I had every intention of tracking him down through the rain and the mud if he had.
Galahad’s daughter shrugged, but I could see the fire still in her eyes. “Bastard proved quicker and stronger than I thought,” she said. “He got away.”
“Do you have any idea where he went?”
Together, Ember and Elaine both shook their heads.
“He still has the chain on his wrist,” Elaine said. “That’s what he hit Jacob with. Me, he just used his fist. So, he will have to do something about that at some point. Other than that, I don’t know.”
I took a moment to assess, then cursed under my breath. I didn’t know where Rolf had gone, and the Blackcoats were conducting door to door searches. Perhaps that meant Rolf had to find somewhere to hide, but at the same time, it meant I could no longer stay at the Goose and Quill.
For all I knew, Lancelot’s men might be already on their way back.
Where I would go, I didn’t know. Not exactly. But at the very least, I would help Ember set the place to rights as much as I could.
It only took a few minutes to help tidy up the tavern. Although one of the chairs was damaged beyond repair. By the time everything was back to normal, Jacob was starting to regain his usual good cheer. The big man had heaved himself up to his feet and was starting to make noises about wanting to help, even though he still had a cloth pressed to his temple to staunch the flow of blood.
I took a look around and judged that everything at the Goose and Quill was going to be okay. I would have liked to take Elaine back up to my room – and maybe Ember as well – but by the uncertain expression Ember still wore when she looked at Elaine, I figured that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
It was time to go. I said my goodbyes, staying firm even when Ember tried to convince me to stay.
“The Blackcoats seem determined,” I said to her, with regret in my voice. “I have put you in enough danger already. I won’t risk anymore.”
Ember didn’t seem to like it, but the realities of the situation were clear. “Where will you go?” she asked finally.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know for sure,” I said, even though in the time I’d been back at the Goose and Quill, I’d mostly made up my mind. “And I don’t know how long I will be gone. It depends on the Blackcoats, and how much effort they intend to put into the search. But I’ll be around,” I added with a hint of a grin. “It will take more than Lancelot and a squad of Blackcoats to keep me away from your hot cocoa drink.”
Before I turned to go, I looked to Elaine. I wanted to know what her plans were, wanted to know how I might find her again.
She took her cue. “I should get going as well,” she said simply. And with that, ignoring the suspicion in Ember’s gaze, Elaine and I both left the tavern together.
There was enough light escaping from the tavern windows that I could just make out the bruise on the swordswoman’s cheek.
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out for her, then hesitated, the tips of my fingers almost at her skin. “I’m sorry he hurt you,” I blurted.
But Elaine shook her head. “It is nothing,” she said. “I am just disappointed he got away.”
I nodded. “But, where will I meet you again?” I asked.
It was her turn to hesitate. “You don’t have to leave,” she said. “I know a place–”
But I was already shaki
ng my head. “What I said to Ember was true,” I said. “I will not risk being caught with you anymore than I will risk being caught with them.”
She accepted my words with a nod. “There is a fountain at the end of the market square. It’s one of my favorite things in all of Camelot. I will be there around noon every day, or I’ll leave a message with someone telling you where I am.”
With that, Elaine stepped in for a kiss, then turned and walked swiftly into the night. I knew she had no idea how long I would be gone. For all either of us knew, the Blackcoats would keep searching for days, weeks even. They might not give up until they had found me and the others.
I smiled as I watched her hips before they disappeared into the night. She didn’t know what I was planning, or that I intended to be back far sooner than she expected.
22
My first thought had been to return to the chamber beneath the castle itself. I couldn’t imagine even the Blackcoats would think to search there, not with the dragon chained in the lower levels.
Part of me wanted to visit the dragon again, just out of a sense of kinship. But really, that was no more than postponing going into hiding, and that would not suit me at all.
I had things to do. First and foremost, I still had to find Anwen. That my contacts hadn’t heard anything of her was good, in a way. If I couldn’t find her, then neither could the King or her co-conspirators.
It meant she had a good chance of still being alive.
But I still wanted to find her, and that meant I had to be free to wander the city without fear of being caught.
So, even though it was late, I had only one real choice. I turned my feet toward the cottage on the outskirts of the city and started to walk.
It would be the middle of the night when I got there, but I figured that Meghan probably wouldn’t mind very much.
Meghan was happy to see me despite the late hour. By the light of a couple of candles, I told her all that had happened since my last visit, including Rolf’s escape, the door to door search for me, the Blackcoat, and Anwen, and even Galahad making it known throughout the city that someone of the King’s blood still survived.
The enchantress listened with interest, her lips pursing in consternation at some of the things I said. When I was done, she said, “You are welcome to remain here for as long as you wish.”
It was beyond gratifying that this was her first instinct. But the beautiful woman hadn’t finished. “It is unlikely that the Blackcoats will search this far out.” She offered a smile. “It is one of the reasons why I choose to live here rather than further in. But I sense you are not here looking for somewhere to hide. That has never been your nature. You are looking for something to aid in your own efforts.”
She said it with the certainty of sure knowledge.
I nodded. “That potion you gave me, the one that changed my appearance. You said you couldn’t get the ingredients until summer… but your necklace seems to work the same way, only different. Is there another way to achieve the same result? Some way to do the same thing, but in a way that lasts longer?”
The enchantress slowly nodded. “I think I can help you with something like that,” she said.
Meghan le Fay was as good as her word. Since she didn’t have any of the original potion left, she had to make a new one, and the process was complex.
It took her a full day, with me acting as her assistant.
I found the process fascinating. The ingredients she used ranged from the mundane to the bizarre, and many of them seemed to have medicinal qualities, no different from most of the ingredients that she would use in her role as a healer.
As she worked, she described what she was doing.
“The powdered bark of the acacia bush,” she said as she added a carefully measured amount into a vial. “It is a muscle relaxant, which can be quite useful when setting broken bones. Sometimes, the injured person’s own body tries to fight what I’m trying to do, and forcing it to relax is the only option.” She looked at me as she reached for a small bottle of dark liquid. “Of course, for you, we don’t want all of your muscles to relax. Just a few in your face, to give it a different aspect.” She took an eyedropper and dripped three drops of the dark fluid into the vial with the powder. “And that’s what this is for. It is a binding agent, but also allows me to control the extent of the actions of the powdered acacia.”
To that, the enchantress added a dried paste that she said contained a deactivated strain of a toxin that worked in some ways like the acacia powder, and in some ways the opposite. She added three different types of liquid and set the resulting mixture to heat over a single candle.
As she was waiting for that to reach the correct temperature, she looked at me strangely.
“Have you thought more about your quest for a purpose?” she asked, seemingly at random.
In truth, I had not. I shook my head. “I’ve been a little busy dealing with everything that has happened,” I admitted.
The enchantress nodded her head sagely, a gesture far more in keeping with her older appearance than the youthful, beautiful one she now wore.
I remembered when I first met her that I had worried about her true age, and had to laugh at my younger self. By now, I knew that it didn’t really matter. Meghan was still Meghan, regardless of how she looked.
And anyway, even if she truly was ancient, she wasn’t my only lover outside my own age bracket. Lady Emmeline was nearly three times my own age, and that didn’t matter a jot.
As the steam started to rise from the heated vial, Meghan added something else that I didn’t fully see, a sprinkle of something that sparkled in the light. “You know, you don’t have to find your life’s purpose all at once,” she allowed. “Like your quest for revenge. For a short time, that was enough, was it not?”
She was right. And I knew it. My quest for revenge had never been intended to take very long. Certainly not a full lifetime. Yet, while I had been engaged with it, while it had taken my full focus, I had been content.
“Perhaps there is a lesser purpose, a shorter term goal you could make your own until you are ready for something more grand.”
The enchantress didn’t look at me as she said this, instead focusing her attention on what she was doing.
“Like what?” I asked.
But if I expected her to give me all the answers, then I would have been disappointed yet again.
The enchantress must have judged the potion ready, for she moved it – along with the stand it sat on – away from the flame, and let it sit. She smiled a knowing smile and gave me another non-answer. “You will have to figure that one out for yourself,” she said. “As for now, part one of this potion is complete. On to part two.”
As she reached for several more ingredients, I was already starting to think of what my interim purpose could be. It had to be something to give me some focus. To be more than just an opportunist, a carefree picker of pockets and thief with no real plan to be anything more.
The enchantress worked on her potion for hours on end without taking a break. Her focus was absolute even as we talked, and her measurements and movements were precise. Finally, she sat back from the table, and I thought she was done.
She looked at me. “Now comes the hard part,” she said.
“The hard part?”
“Yes. Right now, this is just a mixture of ingredients. A complex one, to be sure, but no more than that. Any competent herbalist or alchemist could have put it together.” The smile she offered me then was one of supreme confidence in her own abilities. “But there are not many people who can turn it into the potion you want. Because to do that takes a certain kind of ability that not many possess.”
I knew what she was talking about—magic.
“Is there anything you need me to do?” I asked.
“Just keep quiet and watch.”
I did so. Meghan closed her eyes and settled herself in place. She began chanting in a low voice, pronouncing words I couldn’t un
derstand, in a language I didn’t know. At the same time, she moved her hands in gestures that seemed to track my eyes so I couldn’t follow them. At first, nothing seemed to be happening, but as the minutes ticked by, I saw wisps of green, smoky magic appear and vanish from between Meghan’s moving hands.
I was reminded of the whisper of magic that had appeared when I broke the amulet of protection she had given me, and knew it was the same type of thing.
This was real magic. Not the sleight of hand tricks I had used in my past, to trick random strangers from their hard-earned coin. But real, ethereal, incomprehensible magic, produced from within Meghan herself by some mechanism I couldn’t begin to understand.
I watched as she continued to gesture and chant, and the magic that formed as a result grew stronger and more permanent.
I couldn’t help but be amazed at what I was seeing. I’d known for all my life that magic was real, and had used it to my advantage several times. But this was the first time I had seen Meghan in action, apart from that moment a few days ago when she had given me more… stamina for our more enjoyable activities. Even then, I hadn’t really seen what she did as much as felt the result of it, and then my mind had quickly shifted to other things.
I don’t know how long she continued to chant, or when she added her power to the green mass before her, but it must have been many minutes.
Finally, she seemed to be done. With her eyes now firmly open, her chanting changed, as did her gestures. Instead of adding to the power before her, she was guiding it, moving it across the table just a few handwidths, to where she had left the vial of mixture she had spent the best part of the day making.
Carefully, she guided her power until it seemed to merge with the liquid, and then she changed her chanting again. It grew louder, more commanding, and the green mass of magic seemed to pulse, and condense, and merge to become one with the liquid.
And still the enchantress continued to chant, her gestures becoming stronger, building up to a climax of some sort that I couldn’t predict.