The Pendragon Legacy: Sons Of Camelot Book One

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The Pendragon Legacy: Sons Of Camelot Book One Page 11

by Sarah Luddington


  “Already being done, Sire,” Lance said. “I sent riders to Isabel and my brother, Thomas, yesterday. The moment Morgan and Galahad explained I understood the consequences.”

  “Thank you, my friend.” I noticed Nim still sat under his protective arm.

  “So we need to act as bait?” Galahad asked.

  “I think so, we can be a distraction for her. The Senate of Albion won’t allow her to take the throne without the trials, but she can stir the pot. If we draw her fire, she will be distracted from playing games in The City. We also need to find a way to stop her,” I said.

  “You mean kill her,” Galahad said quietly.

  “Well, convincing her to behave hasn’t gone so well and the woman has the patience of a snake. She waited years before striking at Morgana and Lancelot by taking you. Then she waited until they died to release you into the world. She is patient. She plans meticulously but she doesn’t seem to understand a man’s heart,” I said, looking at Galahad.

  He dropped his gaze and his cheeks coloured slightly. “No, she doesn’t understand a man’s heart.”

  “We’ve achieved the two most important things,” I said. “Galahad is with us and we’ve escaped her clutches. She’d have wanted to arrive while we were in shock over losing Morgana, unfortunately she didn’t consider the possibility of Galahad helping us.” I smiled at him but his expression remained troubled and dark.

  “But none of this helps us to know what to do next,” Nim said. “Where will we be safe?”

  “Nim’s right, do we go north or south?” Lance asked.

  I raised my eyebrows. “What makes you think you are coming, my Lord?”

  “You’ll need another sword, Holt. You know it or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Camelot needs your sword, Lance.”

  “You are Camelot, Sire,” he said.

  The weight of those words threatened to render me mute. The familiar panic started in my chest. I glanced at Torvec, who smiled slightly. If I remained King, I’d have to leave him because I had to marry and produce an heir. “We’ll discuss it later. Right now we need to work out the consequences of where we go because wherever it is we will be drawing them into a conflict with The Lady. Be it open war or something more subtle.”

  “We’ll be drawing our allies into a fight,” Morgan said. She’d clearly been thinking through the consequences.

  “Yes. So, I’d rather not go to the Wild Wood or north. We don’t want to draw Grimal into this fight.”

  “But The Lady will never take the fortress,” Lance pointed out. We’d both been squires up in the north before I went south to keep out of everyone’s way.

  “That’s not really the point, I don’t want them to have to help us. There is always the chance of betrayal if we trust outsiders. Not Grimal, but his people if they start dying for us,” I said.

  “Paranoid but alright,” Lance agreed.

  “I think we head to the deserts. We can hide there. She won’t expect it because The City and the Salamander aren’t exactly friends.”

  “Understatement,” Morgan grumbled.

  “We’ll be reported if we are found,” Nim said. “And it won’t help us find a way to stop her.”

  “We’ll be hard to pin down, even if we are reported to her and as for stopping her...” I shrugged. “We need time and it will give us time.”

  “It’s a long ride,” Lance said.

  “Not if we use a portal,” Galahad said.

  I studied him for a moment before replying. Here we were, discussing ways to stop The Lady, which essentially meant killing her because I knew it would be the only way to stop her, and Galahad quietly mentions the portals. In theory they were fine, but men of Camelot could not operate them. Full fey with strong gifts were able to manipulate them but not the likes of me.

  “You can use them?” I asked.

  “I can,” he said calmly.

  I looked his sisters. “Can you?” I asked them.

  Nim and Morgan shared a long moment. “I can’t,” Nim said. She stared at me and I nodded. It was the first time any of us had spoken about the possibility of Nim being more than a sister in name to me but also sharing my blood. Things were changing now our parents were dead, we were re-establishing boundaries and bonds.

  “I can,” Morgan said, her eyes downcast, trying to ignore the obvious. “Though it isn’t easy.”

  “With two of us working together it will be easy,” Galahad said. “I can take the lead and we can move the horses.”

  “There isn’t a portal here that will take us to the desert,” Lance said. “We’ll also need a day to prepare.”

  “Then that’s what we do,” I said. “We go to the deserts and hide.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The meeting broke up, Lance rising to speak with his staff about organising us and our supplies. I now had the time to deal with something I’d been putting off because it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

  “If the rest of you don’t mind I need to speak with Torvec privately,” I said to the others. “We all need to organise and rest before leaving, so make use of the household.”

  Galahad rose but I grabbed his arm as he passed me. “Get some sleep, that’s an order,” I said gently.

  He tried to smile but he looked damaged, like a piece of stone with fine fracture lines running through it, waiting to crack open. He left in silence, both his sisters watching his back.

  “Nim, go after him and make him talk to you. Be gentle, he needs a friend and I’m not the right person at the moment,” I told her. She nodded and walked quickly after him. Morgan huffed but left and I focused my attention on Torvec.

  He shifted on the stone bench and his long fingers moved restlessly. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You know what’s wrong,” I said. “How did you heal me yesterday? Fey don’t heal people like that and you went to sleep before I could work out what was happening. What are you hiding from me?”

  He looked at me with his strange eyes and I suddenly couldn’t read his expression. It felt as if he’d washed away from me, like a tide. I stared at a stranger, not the man I professed to love.

  Love. I’d never been in love before I met Torvec. We’d known each other barely two weeks and I said I loved him? We’d only been to bed together three times, amazing times, but only three times, so could I love him? I shook my head, confused suddenly with my alien thoughts.

  “Who are you?” I asked, my throat tight with fear.

  “You know who I am,” he said. I watched him stand and the suddenly movement made me flinch back away from him. His mouth twisted in a grimace and he strode off into the vast gardens surrounding the villa. I let him leave but the place where my wound had been torn open by The Lady’s power ached painfully.

  I left the confines of our meeting place and my restlessness took me toward Lance’s offices. I found him issuing orders to his men, who left in turn, nodding to me on the way out.

  Lance sat back in his large wooden chair and fiddled with a quill. “You are so different to your father in some ways,” he said.

  I frowned and pushed myself off the white wall to sit in front of the large oak desk. “What do you mean?”

  “He’d walk into a room and everyone would know instantly. You walk into a room and somehow you can hide until it’s the right time for you to be King.”

  “Maybe it’s because I don’t feel like a king,” I said, pushing a piece of parchment around the desk.

  “Perhaps you don’t, but you are the best we have,” Lance said. “The sensible thing is for me to protect Albion’s royal family and for you to return to Camelot. If you keep leaving things to your sister her children will have more right to the throne than your own.”

  I laughed. “You really think I’m going to have children, Lance? Seriously? The only time I tried to bed a woman because I felt I had something to prove, it was a fucking disaster. Besides, Isabel’s children are good for Camelot and she is a better lea
der of the city than I am. I should resign in her favour.” The last I said quietly. The thought of resigning my title had been hovering around me for years. Now father was gone it would be more than possible. The transfer could happen seamlessly once Galahad held the throne of Albion.

  Lance didn’t say anything. I watched his rich hazel eyes work through the best way to deal with my statements. He always considered his options before he spoke. “I think you are tired and finding the death of your family hard. I think you need to go home.”

  “I’m not leaving Galahad,” I said.

  “Why?” he asked softly. He reached across the desk and held my restless hand. “Why can’t you leave him? You have Torvec, he’d return with you.”

  My heart smashed so loudly against my ribcage I felt certain Lance would hear it. “I made a promise to Morgana to protect them,” I said.

  “He’s a very vulnerable, confused and angry young man. He needs someone to keep him steady. I fear you may just unsettle him,” Lance said.

  “I’m not planning on seducing the boy,” I snapped and pulled my hand away. “He’s not like that, he’s not like his father or me. Why don’t we discuss your sudden fascination for Nim, instead?” I asked. “While I am King, you need permission if you want to pursue her hand.”

  “Holt, that’s not fair,” Lance protested.

  “No, it is not fair, but I’m King and I get to make the decisions,” I said, rising from the chair. “You’re right, Galahad is a vulnerable young man and he trusts me. If you think I’ll leave him because I’m not able to control my cock then you show me a remarkable amount of disrespect.”

  Lance drew back and his eyes dropped. “I am sorry, Sire. I speak out of turn.”

  I grunted and left his office. I’d gone there hoping for a friendly ear, someone I could talk to about my swirling emotions. Unfortunately, Lance had his own agenda. I didn’t blame him; how could he see the circling mess I was about to make of my life, when I couldn’t understand it myself? I needed to give myself time and space, they were both the sensible options. Instead I sought out Galahad. Just because I knew the right thing to do, didn’t mean I managed it.

  I discovered his room and knocked on his door. “Come in,” his soft voice rumbled.

  I paused for a moment, knowing this could be a really stupid idea. I opened the door and walked into Galahad’s room. He sat propped up on his bed, his body glistening from the bath and just a short scrap of fabric around his waist. His damp hair lay over one shoulder, a splash of black against his pale, naked chest. He held a comb in his hand and worked at the tangles.

  “Holt,” he said, surprised. “I thought you were talking to Torvec.”

  My heart raced, my palms grew damp and my mouth turned dry enough for sawdust. “I wanted to check you were alright,” I said. “You haven’t been looking after yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, clearly puzzled by my presence. “Unless you fancy helping me untangle this lot. I should have it cut, like yours.”

  “No,” I protested instantly. Then I realised I’d been too vehement in my protest. “No,” I repeated more gently. “I’m sure Valla and every other woman you turn your eye to would love it long.” I smiled in a sad attempt to make the situation a joke.

  “What’s wrong, Holt?” he asked. He moved to sit on the side of his bed. The muscles rippled under his skin and I found myself mesmerised.

  “Torvec,” I said quietly, still watching his chest. “I think I’m in trouble.”

  “Don’t you want to talk to one of the others?” he asked. “I haven’t been the most understanding of friends.”

  I dragged my eyes up to his, they were so dark, almost completely black. “No, but you might give me the most honest answer,” I said.

  “I wouldn’t bank on that, Holt,” he said, rising and walking to the empty fire place. “Do you want a drink?”

  “You going to join me?” I asked.

  He raised a half smile. “I still don’t think I like it to be honest.”

  “Hard to believe a son of the du Lac household doesn’t drink wine and fuck his way through the court,” I said, joining him by the fireplace.

  “That’s just it,” Galahad said sadly. “I’m not sure where I fit in or who I really am. You want me to be king, The Lady wants me to be king and I don’t even know who I am.”

  “You don’t want the throne?” I asked.

  He looked at me and smiled with bitterness. “Do you want yours?”

  “Funny you should say that, but no. No, I don’t want the throne of Camelot. It’s just something I was born into and I have no choice,” I said.

  “But at least you know where you come from and who you are,” he said.

  I took the comb out of his hand and pulled the mass of hair back across his shoulder. It slipped through the strands until the end, then I worked it gently past the knots, smoothing them out. He didn’t say a word, didn’t move, but his chest rose and fell heavily. We stayed like that for a long time, silent in each other’s company, the atmosphere becoming heavier.

  Eventually the knots were gone from his hair and I knew I’d stayed far too long. “I should leave,” I said in a voice I didn’t recognise.

  “If that’s what’s right,” Galahad said, bowing is head. “But you haven’t told me the problem with Torvec yet.”

  I stepped the short distance between us, his shoulder close to my mouth. “I’m not certain Torvec is fey and I know he’s not human. He’s not being honest with me and I’m worried about it. Love is not something which happens easily for me but it seems to have overtaken my life and I don’t understand if it’s real.” I spoke quietly and knew my breath whispered over his skin.

  He didn’t move or flinch, in fact he swayed backward slightly toward me. My lips brushed his shoulder and my loins tightened. The muscles over his back and upper arm flexed in reaction to my caress so I dropped his comb to the rug and traced the muscles on his arm. A small sound escaped his control.

  My fingers moved from his arm to his waist. Every line was solid and I traced them slowly, as if trying to break a scared colt. I brushed the top of the blanket covering his hips and he spooked, moving away from me slightly but not voicing his apparent fear.

  I dropped my hand. “I’m not helping, I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t...” he said. “Don’t leave. I have to understand and I don’t. Help me.”

  I didn’t say a word. I took hold of his shoulder and turned him toward me. I didn’t meet his eyes, it wouldn’t have helped, I just concentrated on his jaw. I caressed it in my right hand, smooth now after his bath and shave. I pulled his head forward slightly and brushed his lips with mine. He stepped in toward me and made the tentative movement a positive one. We kissed. His right hand took possession of the back of my head, his fingers tangling with my hair and his tongue asked for entrance to my mouth. I was powerless to deny him regardless of the consequences. I ached for this, I desired it... him, I desired him and it filled my mind with sensations I craved.

  My hand circled his smooth hips and drew him into my body. His hard and heavy cock bumped against my hip, it made him break our kiss. “Holt,” he groaned. “Who am I?”

  I tasted his lips on mine and his breath brushed my face. “This isn’t you, Galahad,” I said but with far less authority than previously.

  “Prove it,” he said and kissed me again with greater passion. He pushed against my body and forced me to step back until I stumbled against the bed. His hands were under my shirt and my skin burned with every touch. I groaned into his mouth but he didn’t stop. He behaved like a man possessed and I began to lose the fight which kept us upright. His mouth left mine and travelled toward my jaw.

  “Galahad, please, don’t. Stop. You don’t want this. It’s not something you will ever be able to walk away from, just think,” I gasped, even as my fingers flexed on his strong, smooth back.

  “I’m done with thinking,” he growled against my throat. “I know you wan
t this.”

  “I’ve wanted it since the moment I laid eyes on you in that damn waterfall,” I confessed. “But it doesn’t make it right.” I finally found the strength to push him away. “You don’t have to do this, Galahad.”

  “Why won’t you just let me do it?” he asked, finally looking at me.

  I smiled and traced his sharp cheekbone, in case I never touched him again. “Because you are alone and I don’t trust you are fully in control. There are also Valla and Torvec to consider.”

  “But isn’t this what our fathers had?” he asked with some anger leaking into his tone.

  “Perhaps. I don’t know, I wasn’t there all of the time and they were private about their love around us children,” I told him.

  “I wish I remembered something,” he said. He moved into my body once more. “To see just one small kiss or caress shared between them might enable me to understand their love and ours.”

  I closed my eyes, swept up by that one small word. He kissed me tenderly, almost shy now in his embrace. I cradled his head, reversed our stance and lay him gently on the bed. He stayed meekly where I placed him, those dark eyes shining with more hope than I’d seen in them since we first met.

  I knelt either side of his hips, trailed my fingers over his taut stomach, making him squirm slightly. “Stop, you’ll make me laugh,” he said.

  “You need to laugh more. You are beautiful when you smile,” I said honestly.

  He blushed and looked away. I tilted his chin and lowered myself over his chest to kiss him. Our mouths blended, our tongues quested, gently, softly and perfectly. His hands played up my back and pushed my hips down onto his, fabric protecting us from doing anything too serious for the moment but I knew it wouldn’t be long before I lost control. I kissed down his neck and onto that perfect chest. His breathing hitched and he groaned my name.

 

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