The Pendragon Legacy: Sons Of Camelot Book One

by Sarah Luddington

  “You can’t heal me,” I said.

  “No, I can’t, but I can repair you,” he said.

  I frowned. “Don’t understand.”

  “No and you aren’t going to, Holt,” he said and he sounded different. His voice belonged to someone older, darker and infinitely sadder. “I need you to go to sleep now. You aren’t going to be allowed to see this and I’d rather you didn’t know what was happening.”

  I opened my eyes and blinked heavily, trying to concentrate. “No, what? Wait – what?” The words and thoughts were confused. I’d lost a lot of blood.

  “Holt, sleep,” Torvec ordered.

  “No, what’s happening? Who are you?” I asked. The beautiful young man I knew faded and those remarkable, unique eyes shifted into a face I didn’t recognise. An utterly terrifying face.

  “Sleep, Holt,” came an irresistible order.

  Before darkness took hold I saw something bizarre. My beautiful young bard shimmered in a way similar to the shifters of the wild wood did but instead of a wolf I saw a large and terrifying scaly face with a long snout and very sharp teeth. Scales covered the face, white scales and heat washed over me.

  “Wha...” I managed before slipping under.

  The world rushed back in a wave of sound and smells. Birds twittered loudly, every leaf rustled in the wind and I thought I heard ants among the blades of grass. The air smelt of warm earth, horses, and rich clean air. Next came the sensations under my palm. One hand lay over the grass, it tickled my palm slightly. The ground seeped its damp into my leather hose, but not so it proved uncomfortable.

  I sighed. No pain radiated from my body. I frowned. I should be in pain. Why wasn’t I in pain? Memory flooded back and my eyes flashed open. “Torvec,” I said to the blue sky poking through the canopy of some tall trees. I sat up. “Torvec?” I asked.

  Something moved to my left. I turned onto my knees and saw him. My lover sat slumped against a tree, holding his side, with blood leaking through his fingers. His eyes were closed. I walked to him on my knees and reached out for his shoulder. “Torvec?”

  His eyes opened. For a moment the black irises were hugely dilated before the sun forced them to narrow dramatically and I could see the deep and shining blue. He smiled. “You’re alright.”

  “I am but what about you?” I asked. My fingers laced with his and the heat of his blood made my heart stutter. “What’s happened?”

  “You needed healing. I healed you. I’ll be fine, I just need a bit more time,” he said, breathing heavily.

  I swallowed hard, panic fluttering in my chest and almost equal to the confusion. “Torvec, fey don’t heal by taking the wound into themselves,” I said.

  “You know how all fey operate, King of Camelot?” he asked, trying for a teasing tone.

  I stroked hair off his brow. “I know enough,” I said quietly. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m saving your life. Look, I’m already healing,” he said, unlacing his fingers from his side. I pulled up his doublet and shirt. The gash from my side looked really nasty, no wonder everyone kept panicking. Jagged, deep and things almost glistening through the hole. I felt sick. Yet, even as I watched, the blood stopped flowing, the edges began to shimmer and the flesh drew together slowly from the sides.

  Within moments the wound closed and the red line faded, leaving his skin flawless.

  “This doesn’t happen,” I said. “What are you?” I asked.

  “I am just a bard and the friend of a king,” he said weakly. I watched his eyes close and his breathing deepen. Torvec fell asleep beside me. I shook his shoulder but nothing, he just snuffled and rubbed his head against my arm.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked myself. I propped him against the tree and used our drinking water to clean the worst of the blood of his hands and side. I realised the horses were some distance away and I retrieved them. Torvec now snored slightly. I needed to ride after the others, so I lifted him in my arms and up onto Sparrow’s back. I managed to keep Torvec still on the horse as I vaulted up behind him. I pulled him back against me, picked up Whisper’s reins and started to ride out of the small wood.

  It didn’t take me long to orientate myself. I spent a great deal of time travelling to and from Fitzwilliam lands, as well as hunting over them. Torvec lay slumped against my chest and Whisper decided not to fight me. We turned right when we hit the road and I opted for a comfortable walk.

  While we walked, I considered recent events. I’d injured The Lady, we’d escaped The City and therefore her guards, I had Galahad and his sisters somewhere safe and we were all in one piece.

  Which made me look at Torvec. His long eyelashes were dark against the pallor of his skin and his mouth hung slightly open, his lips full and soft. Not as muscular as me or Galahad, he didn’t weigh as much but his warm body became a reassuring weight. Reassuring but mysterious. I frowned and whispered, “What are you?” to myself.

  I knew several things as fact because of living in Albion for so long. Firstly, fey did not heal others by taking the wound on themselves. Secondly, I’d never met a fey that looked like Torvec. He appeared to be Salamander because of his eyes, but the colouring was just so far adrift it didn’t make sense. Thirdly, pain induced or not, I’d seen the face of a monster that didn’t exist. Was Torvec a new type of shifter? The wolves were rare and kept to themselves; perhaps he was something similar.

  “You can’t be a dragon,” I muttered. “You just can’t be, there isn’t any such thing. Even here.”

  Lancelot had told us all about his trip to Lyonesse and his meeting with the shadow of the black dragon but that was just a shadow. I held a man in my arms. A fey man – who I loved.

  “And I do love you, whoever you are,” I told him.

  Next I needed to consider the consequences of my actions. I’d made Camelot and myself firm targets for The Lady. If I didn’t stop her, she’d destroy us. Diplomacy had always been a remote possibility but now it would never happen. I needed to stop her before she raised an army and squashed Camelot. I considered making war on The City before they could attack us, but the thought of all those innocent people being trapped because of her desire to destroy Camelot made me feel sick. I did not want to fight those men I considered friends among the legions. I just had to hope that The Lady wouldn’t find the support she needed in the Senate of Albion to carry out her ideas. Without being queen, she couldn’t force her plans on us and I didn’t think the Senate would want to wage war on a very lucrative, if small, ally.

  These tumbling ideas swallowed up leagues while I ran through scenarios and their consequences. The entire time Torvec just lay in my arms, sleeping deeply. The day moved toward night and I found myself riding through dusk once more, but the Fitzwilliam home shone like a beacon when I crested a hill. Sparrow made his way down the long slope and into the large dell which contained the long, low house.

  Morgana and Lancelot gave this land to the Fitzwilliams knowing their borders would be forever safe. The man who’d owned it before had almost killed Uncle Tancred and wanted Lancelot very much dead but neither of them spoke about it, I’d been told by my father.

  The moment people in the house saw me they rushed out to meet us, Lance being one of them. Only a few years younger than me, we’d become good friends and when his brother married my sister we’d known our families were at last joined for all time.

  “Holt, damn I’ve been worried,” he said. He took after his father, tall and broad with a shock of dark red hair and hazel eyes.

  “You aren’t the only one,” I said. Sparrow stopped willingly, just outside the stable yard. “Galahad and the twins?” I asked.

  Lance grinned. “Oh, they’re here. Morgan is a spitting ball of fury and Galahad is trying to give her orders, but they are here.”

  I chuckled. “I don’t think they are going to be easy friends.”

  “No, but what’s happened here? I heard you were the one bleeding to death,” he said. Stable hands took Whi
sper from me.

  “You know what people are like, they are always exaggerating. This is Torvec, my lover,” I said with just a hint of surprise in my voice.

  Lance grinned. “Lover? It seems I can’t leave you alone for long, can I?” he asked. “About bloody time you settled down with someone. Why is he unconscious?”

  “Not sure. Fey thing... I hope,” I said. Lance reached up and held Torvec still while I slid off Sparrow. I took over his care and he collapsed into my arms without waking, which worried me. Something should have made him stir by now.

  “Come, I’ve had a room prepared for you both. I think you need to freshen up before you face the others. Galahad said something about you stabbing The Lady?” Lance said, leading the way into his rambling home.

  “Less stab, more panic. I was bleeding all over the floor and you know how the Brownies hate cleaning up a mess, Galahad was dying next to me and I thought it wise to stop the chaos,” I said, striving for levity.

  Lance looked back over his shoulder at with a sardonic smile. “So, just a usual day in the life of Camelot.”

  “Something like that,” I said.

  We entered a suite of rooms I’d used before and I placed Torvec on the large bed. It felt good to be here, more like home than The City since everyone had started to die and leave me in charge.

  “Freshen up and come to find us in the banquet hall,” Lance said. “I’ll tell them you’re here and safe. It might take the sting out of their fight.”

  I smiled in gratitude. Cold meats, cheese and wine sat on a side table and the ever-present hot water filled the large tiled sunken bath. I stripped Torvec, washed his skin completely free of blood stains, stripped myself, stuffed food into my mewling belly and sank my weary body into the hot water. I fell instantly asleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Holt?”

  I woke spluttering with someone holding my arm. “What?” I asked when I caught my breath.

  “You slipped under the water,” Galahad said.

  I coughed. “Thanks.”

  “You’re alright?” he asked.

  “Fine. Sorry, meant to come and find you. I guess I dozed off,” I said. He didn’t remove his hand from my arm.

  “Are you sure you’re alright? I saw Torvec in bed when I walked through. He doesn’t look well,” Galahad said. “I called out several times.” His dark eyes were haunted and his exhaustion lay clear in the stoop of his shoulders.

  “It’s alright,” I said. “Let me get out and we can talk.” His eyes moved from my face to my chest, now above the water line. His jaw clamped tight, the muscles jumping, and he stood.

  “I’ll see you next door.” He left me alone and feeling confused, a sensation not uncommon in my experience but one I could do without right now. I left my bath.

  I found a robe waiting in the fey style and slipped it on over my head. The soft fabric felt great after weeks of wearing nothing but gambeson and chain mail.

  I walked into the bedroom and found Galahad sat by the empty fireplace, his eyes on Torvec and an expression of pain on his face. He might look like his father but he proved a great deal easier to read. I just didn’t like the book he showed me.

  “Where are Morgan and Nim?” I asked.

  Galahad appeared surprised at my presence. “Gone to bed. Morgan is a difficult woman.”

  “She’s hurting. Your father’s death hit her very hard. You need to just accept who she is,” I said diplomatically.

  Galahad put his head in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. “Gods, I’m tired,” he confessed quietly. “I thought you were going to die on me again and all because of my foster mother.”

  I dragged a chair next to him and placed a hand on his back. “We made it, Galahad. Together we made it.”

  “You hurt her,” he said.

  “Hmm, sorry, but she was hurting you.”

  “No one has ever stood against her to protect me before,” he said.

  And in that one small sentence I suddenly understood a lot more about my friend. If he’d needed a protector, then he’d been hurt often enough for him to miss not having one. He’d told me before I was his only friend and now this – The Lady must have used physical ‘enhancement’ to enforce her rules. The rules which he hid behind when life grew complicated for him.

  “I will always protect you, Galahad,” I said quietly. He stared at me, his dark eyes glistening with tears. I moved my arm to encircle his shoulders but he slipped to his knees, moving between mine and demanded to be held. I drew him close and felt him shudder against me. My fingers laced into his long hair with one hand and held his back tight with the other. He wept silently and I just rocked him gently.

  “I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “I never want to feel that again.”

  “It comes with the job,” I told him. “Lord Pendragon, protector of the throne of Albion. That’s you as far as I’m concerned.”

  He drew away, but he’d turned his face and his lips brushed mine on the way. We both hesitated. His breath felt hot for a moment on my mouth and I ached to move but couldn’t – he’d never forgive me and neither would Torvec. I drew back from his embrace and smiled, trying to make it kind.

  “You must be exhausted, Galahad. You need to sleep. We are safe here. She cannot come after us easily. This is crown land and heavily protected. We’ll make plans in the morning, but for now, sleep, little brother,” I said, stroking stray hair out of his face.

  “Holt,” he uttered my name on a breath and the desperate look of confused longing in his eyes made my heart beat more strongly.

  “Bed, Galahad. You are alone, scared and confused. Don’t do this to yourself,” I said, rising and trying to sound more like a father than a friend. My knees were weak and my hands trembled.

  I caught his eyes staring at Torvec, so loved and cared for from his perspective, but he rose and quietly left the room. I breathed out in a puff of pent-up frustration. I yanked the robe off in temper and drank heavily from the wine before climbing into the bed, next to my sleeping companion.

  “You weren’t much help,” I told him. I placed a hand on his chest to check his heartbeat. His skin felt hot but not feverish hot. I wriggled closer and drew his scent into my body. Sleep overwhelmed me again and I sank gratefully into her arms.

  Soft kisses caressed my back and dragged me from a warm comfort into strong arms. “Hmm,” I murmured. “Nice.”

  “Morning,” said Torvec.

  I rolled over and we kissed, our bodies pressing tight to each other. It felt wonderful and the confused conversation I’d had with Galahad vanished in my lover’s arms. I could do this forever and never be bored, I thought happily.

  We made love, long and slow, and he allowed me to maintain the dominant role, sighing with contentment the moment I slipped into his willing body. If this was love I wished I’d experienced it years before. When I came, it once more felt as if my soul poured through his and out into the world around us, only to crash back into me one hundred fold. Never, in all the years I’d been enjoying a rather more than healthy sex life, had I felt anything resembling this kind of contentment.

  We washed. We ate. We dressed. We hardly shared a word. The day drew us into its embrace and I knew we had to leave our rooms. Decisions needed to be made and action needed to be taken. The consequences of our activities needed discussing. We left our room and I started walking toward the banqueting hall. However, raised voices drew us into a small garden at the back of the house.

  The scent of herbs greeted me more cheerfully than the argument taking place between my friends.

  Morgan and Galahad were toe to toe threatening each other. Nim stood by looking helpless and Lance had his arm over her shoulders, trying to make them listen to him.

  “Enough,” I said quietly.

  They both stopped instantly. Dark blue and almost black eyes glared at me in equal measure.

  I smiled. “You two look so much alike. You should be the twins.”
/>
  Morgan frowned. Galahad glared. I grinned. “Enough, both of you. We have a plan to devise and I can’t have my two best minds fighting against each other. Come and help me.” I held out my hand to Morgan and she took it automatically, handing over control. Nim hid her smile.

  “He’s being completely unreasonable. He thinks we should go to the Wild Wood and marshal an army,” Morgan said.

  Galahad sighed behind me. “That’s not what I said. I said – we should go to the Wild Wood because we can use it as a base to raise an army if we need one.”

  I sat down among stone benches and interesting garden ornaments. Morgan sat with me, Nim stayed in Lance’s arms and Galahad paced. Torvec sat nearby but maintained distance between us, sensing no doubt I needed to be a leader.

  “We can’t stay here, this is not a safe environment, we can’t defend it against an attack,” Galahad said. He still looked tired. “Yesterday you were almost killed because of The Lady’s power being focused on you,” he said. “I won’t risk the twins.”

  “We can look after ourselves,” Morgan said.

  “Alright, you two, calm down.” I paused and Galahad finally sat. Deep shadows lay under his eyes and his grooming routine clearly hadn’t been followed. His soft cheek was marred by a hint of stubble for the first time since I’d known him.

  “We need to think about what is best for us and Albion, meaning Camelot as well. If we raise an army we are the aggressors. We can’t afford to do that. We need to be clever. We have a year before we can challenge for the throne of Albion and there is no guarantee we will win. Galahad, just like his father before him, has been chosen to represent The Lady. If we don’t untangle him from her as Lancelot did by marrying Morgana, she will win. I’ve no doubt Galahad will take the throne. She’s spent his entire life training him for this event.”

  We all looked at Galahad. He nodded. “It’s true, I have been trained to take the throne,” he said quietly.

  “She cannot seize Albion until that point. We have a year to evade her and stop her for good. We dealt her a blow yesterday, but she won’t take long to recover. We have to draw her fire from Camelot and her lands,” I said, looking at Lance. “We are going to be the target,” I said. “My sister needs to be warned and we need to pull our people in from the outlying villages.”