CHAPTER SEVEN
I shivered and held Torvec close to my chest, remaining on my knees and just trying to breathe without weeping. Never had I felt something so profoundly perfect, as though I touched the very stuff of life through the simple act of sex. He held my arms and I realised he was speaking.
“Holt? Are you alright?” he asked gently.
I relaxed my grip, pulled out of his giving body and he twisted instantly to check on me, holding my shoulders. I raised a smile. “I’m fine. I just...” I didn’t know what to say but I needed to speak and he seemed equally shaken. “That was amazing. Thank you.”
“You did most of work,” he said. “I just came along for the ride.”
I laughed. It released me from him and I felt able to move away, somehow disturbed now by this strange and ethereal young man. What had he done to me? I trembled more violently and felt slightly sick.
“Holt, you need to sit down,” he said.
I didn’t remember standing up. My wounded side made it clear I’d neglected it for far too long. His firm grip on my arms guided me back to the bed, he pulled the blankets over my shoulders and I found a flask in my hand. “Drink, it will help,” he said. “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t expecting that to happen. I should have warned you or tried to stop but...”
“What kind of fey are you?” I managed through chattering teeth.
He rose from my side and I heard water being sploshed about, then he returned and knelt before me. “May I?” he asked, holding a cloth in one hand.
I nodded and was grateful. I caressed his soft hair. “Who are you?” I asked again.
“Torvec, a simple storyteller and wanderer. But that’s not what you’re asking.”
“No, look, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I’ve been around enough Salamander to know what can happen but this... this was different,” I said.
“May I join you?” he asked, looking at the bed.
I consented by moving back and he rose to slip in next to me. I held out my arm and he looked surprised before placing his head on my chest. I felt his fingers playing with the hair over my belly.
“I’m a half-breed, Salamander as you doubtless guessed and...” His voice died.
“It’s alright, Torvec, it’s not like you can get me pregnant,” I said.
He laughed. “No, I know, it’s just... I’m the off-spring of a god apparently.”
“In other words your anointed mother didn’t want to admit to you who your father was?” I asked.
He looked up at me, shifting himself half over my chest. “That’s the nicest way anyone has managed to describe it. I’ll remember that.”
“I wouldn’t worry, the Pendragon family has been known to breed a bastard or two.”
“Look, I know this was meant to be a one time thing,” he said. “But can I come with you tomorrow? Travel with you to The City and Camelot?”
The question came out of nowhere and floored me. “Um... Look, Torvec, I like you. I really enjoyed tonight. I mean it’s the best fu...” The look on his face silenced me. Hurt would describe it well. Really hurt. He turned away and his body began to move.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Not appropriate. I just thought it would be safer. That’s all but you... you have a reputation to protect and you are a King. It’s not right. Sorry.” The entire time he spoke he was moving away and collecting his clothing.
I’d been in some pretty awful situations, it came with the territory when casual sex was the normal way of satisfying your lust, but this ranked up there with the best. I didn’t know whether to beg his forgiveness or just let him leave.
I considered both rapidly and realised Galahad was the real reason I couldn’t have him travel with us.
“Torvec, I would but Galahad, he won’t understand. He doesn’t approve of this kind of sex –”
“Sex,” Torvec said dully. “Yeah, right, a good fuck – that’s all it was. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” He was dressed. Bag in one hand, lute in the other.
“Please, listen to me. I can explain,” I tried but I didn’t move. I didn’t reach for him and he must have seen the lie in my eyes despite the dark.
“Bye,” he said and left, closing the door quietly.
“Fucking hell,” I moaned aloud. “Congratulations, Loholt, another fucking mess to live with. I’m such a fucking prick.”
I stared at the black ceiling and reran the night in my head. The perfect night. The most amazing night I’d ever had with anyone. I understood something horrible. Torvec wasn’t coming with us because of me, not because of Galahad. I was lonely, desolate and heart sore but instead of saying yes to Torvec I’d said no, because it was easier. I covered my eyes with my arm and fought the desire to weep. It was easier to say no because I couldn’t cope with the pain I’d watched my father suffer with Lancelot. It was easier because loving a man in my world was complicated and difficult. It was easier to reject Torvec because I’m a coward and I’m lazy.
Torvec could have been perfect for me and I’d thrown him away because sex is easy with a man but love? Love was not.
I must have slept at some point because I woke up with sore eyes and a heavy heart. Dawn light streamed through the window so I rose, washed and dressed. I went downstairs and Nest sat at a table.
She looked up and smiled, it faded slowly. “Not a good night?” she asked.
“Let’s not talk about it,” I offered and stole her bread.
“Alright.”
“The others?” I asked.
“Kerwin is dealing with the horses,” she said. “The others aren’t down yet.”
“They spent the night together?” I asked.
“Problem?” she countered.
“No,” I said.
“Then yes.”
“Good, perhaps he’ll be in a good mood and leave me the fuck alone,” I grouched.
Galahad did surface eventually and he looked like he’d been hit by an angry ogre. Valla came downstairs and looked like she’d had the milk, the cream and the entire cow. One happy wolf. Galahad didn’t say a single word about Torvec, for which I would forever love Valla, and for the first time I looked at him and my heart didn’t ache. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.
We mounted up and left the small town on the hill, I rode at the rear and twisted constantly in the saddle, irritating my side, trying to figure out if I should return to the town and find Torvec.
“Don’t be so daft,” I muttered. “It was just a fuck.”
The worm in my chest said different and it wriggled and squirmed for most of the morning. When we stopped to rest the horses Galahad finally spoke to me.
“Last night, you... That man and you,” he said awkwardly, while he flushed pink.
I put my knife away. “Torvec,” I said. “His name is Torvec.”
“His name is irrelevant,” Galahad snapped.
“No, his name is relevant because he is a good and kind man,” I snapped back.
“What you did last night,” Galahad tried to return the conversation to his plan. “What you did last night –”
“What I did last night is no different to what you did,” I barked and poked him in the chest. “Torvec is none of your business and neither is my sex life.” I strode off toward Sparrow, swung myself up into the saddle and moved him away from the others.
“What are you doing?” Galahad asked.
“Going to find him. I stopped him travelling with us, where he’d be safe, because I was worried about your sensitivities. Now, I’m not worried. You can just learn to live with it.” Sparrow, picking up on my anger, reared. I rode him down and galloped off back the way we came.
What the hell did I think I was doing? We hadn’t passed Torvec, so I wasn’t even certain where he was, but I was going to find him. I’d left him for my own selfish reasons and that made me sick.
We made good time, Sparrow more than willing to return to the nice stable in the nice town. He’d be cross when he worked out what I planned. I
galloped hard and began to meet other people on the road. I started to ask about a minstrel but no one knew him. I began to worry. Foolish because he could have taken a different road out of the town but I knew he wanted to go to The City and we were on the only road heading in that direction. I hit a lonely stretch and slowed Sparrow.
Something felt off. My warrior’s instincts were awake and paying attention to my surroundings. I checked the ground. Tancred’s assessment of my tracking skills weren’t wrong. I’m bloody good at finding things and people. The road – mostly dust – told a story. A man, walking with a fairly long stride, stopped and turned. I slid off Sparrow to read the story more clearly. Not much time had passed, Torvec must have left the town after us as the prints were still clear despite the slight wind trying to blur them. The man had set his feet, the heel of one and the ball of the other almost in line. Four other sets of feet surrounded him. They wore heavy boots, but more than one set had damaged soles.
“I’ll give them fucking damaged souls,” I muttered and ran off in the direction the feet led. A low hill sat off to the left and it would be a good place to do someone serious damage. I ran fast and quietly, my sword in my hand.
“Please be alive, Torvec,” I muttered repeatedly.
I crested the rise, bent low and used the shade of a small clutch of trees to hide my movements. I never wore anything which blinked in the sun and my sword’s blade never shone brightly like Excalibur used to in my father’s hands. In a small dip behind the hill I saw a massacre. The bodies of four men lay in their own blood and Torvec sat against a tree holding his face and the remains of his lute.
I left the shadows of the trees and ran down the hill. It took moments and when I reached him I skidded to a halt.
“Torvec?” I asked.
He looked up at me. I’d never seen him in daylight and for a moment I couldn’t think. His eyes were blue but not like mine. They were deep and very dark like a strange jewel or a clear lake. The irises were elongated and narrow. Blood splattered his white skin, highlighting his pallor and matting his soft white hair.
“Holt?” he asked and frowned. “No, it can’t be.”
He was in shock. I could see the fine tremor.
I knelt beside him but out of arm’s reach. He still held a wicked looking knife in the hand pressed to his head.
“Torvec, it’s me. I came back. I came to say sorry. Put the knife down and we can talk,” I said, holding my hand out for the blade.
He just stared in a slightly dazed way at the bodies. His clothes were torn and his skin. I slowly reached across his body for the knife, which came away from his hand easily.
“They attacked,” he said suddenly. He turned to me. “They tried to hurt me.”
“I can see that,” I said gently. “But you dealt with them. They can’t hurt you now. I’m here to help. We’ll clean you up and we’ll move on. Together, as we should have done before. How does that sound?” I asked. His plight caused my guilt to explode in a shocking mess of self-recrimination. If he’d asked for Camelot in that moment as reparation for leaving him, I’d have surrendered it willingly.
He mumbled something but I didn’t understand and I needed to move him away from the carnage. He’d not just killed these men, he’d taken them apart. The more I looked at the mess the more confused I became; how could one man do all this damage? Limbs were clearly snapped, throats not just slashed but bloodily torn out and two of the men eviscerated.
“Torvec, come on. We need to move,” I said, pulling on his arms and forcing him to his feet.
“Holt?” he asked.
“Yes,” I confirmed again.
He shuddered violently and I almost dropped him as he collapsed sobbing in my arms. I wrapped him to me and just held on while the grief and shock took their toll. He calmed slowly and once the big messy hiccups were over I started to lead him away from the mess. I found a spot near a small spring, sat him down and pulled off my scarf to start washing his face and hands.
“You came back,” he said.
“I wish I’d come back sooner,” I said. I glanced up at him; a calmness now graced his features. The high cheekbones and narrow strong jaw made his face a sharp heart shape. “I am sorry,” I added.
He smiled, a small tight movement of his full lips. “I understand. It’s fine. It’s normal.”
I stopped fussing for a moment. “It shouldn’t be,” I said. “I am sorry, really. If you’d been with us I could have spared you this. What I did, said, last night – it was dishonourable. Please, forgive me for being a fool.”
“The King of Camelot a fool?” he asked. “Never.”
The sarcasm made me smile. “Can we be friends?” I asked.
He nodded. “We can be friends and more if you like.”
My smile turned into a grin. “I’d like.”
He nodded and we worked together to clean him up and assess the damage. He’d sustained a nasty cut over his eye, which wouldn’t close, some damage to his ribs and throat and bruises on his legs.
“At least my hands are in one piece,” he said.
“But your lute isn’t,” I pointed out.
Tears instantly filled his eyes. “Oh no.”
“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll buy you a new one,” I said.
“But she was my friend,” he wailed.
“I am your friend now and we will buy the best lute in Camelot. I promise,” I said.
“With what? They stole my money,” he sobbed.
I kissed his head. “I’ll get the money. I’ll add to it and we will find you the best lute from both cities, how does that sound?”
He calmed and nodded. “Sorry.”
“You’ve had a nasty shock.” I paused and wondered if now was the right time to ask but I had to know, “How did you do that?” He looked up at me. “Kill those men like that.”
His eyes dropped. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “It’s not the first time it’s happened. I just come around and there are bodies everywhere.”
“Remind me not to annoy you,” I said.
“I’ve never hurt anyone who didn’t hurt me first. Physically,” he added as a qualification. He’d made his point and I felt the heat rush up my face. I turned away from him for a moment and put my fingers in my mouth, making a long whistle. A neigh answered and Sparrow appeared over the hilltop. He trotted to me and I rubbed his ears in reward, promising apples in return. I found the small medical kit I carried everywhere and Torvec sat still while I put a few stitches in his head.
Once done I returned to the bodies of his victims and stripped them of everything of value including the useful items of clothing. I had quite a bundle by the time I’d finished. I hauled it back to Torvec and we wrapped it to tie to Sparrow. I mounted the horse and held out my hand for my companion.
He stared up at me. “You sure?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“And the Prince?”
“I don’t care.”
His jaw muscles bunched briefly and he grabbed my hand to swing up into onto Sparrow’s back behind me. “Hold on,” I said. “We’ve a great deal of catching up to do.”
His arms slid around my waist and he leaned against my back. It felt wonderful.
CHAPTER EIGHT
We rode hard that afternoon and by the time I found their camp full dark surrounded us. We rode in slowly, I didn’t want one of the wolves to become over-excited and charge us. Torvec now slumped against me and I knew I’d ridden too hard. Sparrow’s head hung between his knees in misery and I ached all over.
“Where in all the dark hells have you been?” Galahad asked the moment he spotted us.
“Helping a friend,” I said heavily. Nest and Valla both rushed toward us. Kerwin appeared from the darkness and lifted Torvec off the back of my horse. I dismounted stiffly, my side hurting badly. “He’s been wounded, go gentle.”
“Tancred sent me because I have some gift at healing, I’ll see what I can do,” Nest said.
“His presence here –” Galahad started.
I turned and poked him hard in the chest. “He’s been beaten half to death. He’s exhausted and I treated him badly. I owe him.”
Galahad’s eyes grew stormy. I just pushed past him and returned to Nest who helped Torvec sit near the fire. Valla started spooning his food out of the pot and Kerwin gave him a small flask. I knelt beside him.
“Sorry for the rough ride,” I said, stroking back the soft hair. He raised a smile but his eyes were haunted under the bruises. “I have to see to the horse.” I kissed his head, the most public gesture of affection I’d ever performed. The presence of Galahad’s disgust had forced me to examine my own behaviour and I found myself sadly lacking in honesty and integrity.
It took me a long time to sort out Sparrow and rub him down. I gave him the promised treats, picked grass and generally made a fuss of my horse. By the time I returned to the others, Torvec sat straight and, despite being huddled in my cloak, he looked stronger.
“I’ve taken your attempt at stitches out of his head before you scar him for life,” Nest said. “The damage isn’t too bad. Just as well you rescued him when you did. It would be a shame to lose such a wonderful voice.” She smiled fondly.
“I didn’t –” I frowned.
“Do much when he saved me, a typical response of a great Knight of Camelot,” Torvec said. A look of desperation filled his eyes and although I didn’t understand why he wanted to hide his courage I took the credit. I finally sat and Kerwin handed me some stew.
The Pendragon Legacy: Sons Of Camelot Book One Page 5