The Pendragon Legacy: Sons Of Camelot Book One

by Sarah Luddington

  “Came to look for the best deal a man can get on fine silks,” he replied. His green eyes raked me over where he held me at arm’s length. “The years are being kind on you, Pendragon,” he said. He embraced me again and I felt his hand pat my backside with a possessiveness I remembered well. It made me laugh and throw an arm over his shoulder.

  “Everyone, meet the finest sailor in the whole of Albion and a very good friend of mine, Captain Raven. Raven, meet the family,” I said. I caught Galahad’s expression during the more detailed and formal introductions Lance performed while he carefully left out their full titles because of wagging ears nearby. My young friend did not look happy with Raven. Mind you, the hand which wouldn’t quite leave my backside probably didn’t help.

  “So, you dissolute King, what have you been doing?” Raven asked. It was the first time he’d used the title. We walked together with my arm still over his shoulder.

  “You heard?” I asked and the mood between us grew quiet.

  “I did. I’m sorry, lad. It must be hard for you,” he said. “You weren’t designed to be tied to one place.” I grunted in acknowledgement. “But that doesn’t tell me why you are here.”

  “We need somewhere quiet to talk,” I said. “The family are in trouble.”

  “Whatever you need, you know that,” he said and he meant it.

  We arrived at a tavern, Nim holding Lance’s arm as if the whole world wanted to eat her alive, Morgan looking like she owned the place and Galahad acting like a royal of the worst kind. I needed to teach him to blend in or we’d never find anywhere safe to stay. Raven and I ordered food and ale for all, including the ladies. We joined the others in small back room the house kept for discreet business.

  “Is this where the taxes go when I can’t keep track?” Lance muttered.

  “We all have to make a living, my Lord,” Raven said. He grinned and winked at Morgan. A tooth flashed gold in his mouth and I saw new scars laced over the old ones on his stocky naked arms. Morgan smiled at him and drank heavily from her flagon of ale. Raven laughed in approval of her antics but Galahad removed the drink from her hand.

  “That’s enough, you are not some cheap doxy,” he said.

  I watched Morgan bridle and I realised we were about to have an argument which might cause the roof to fall on our heads. I reached out and took her ale from Galahad. “Don’t do that, love. You really shouldn’t take her beer, it makes her very grumpy.” I handed back the ale, moved from Raven’s side and said formally, “Captain Raven of the good ship Echo, I’d like you to formally meet Galahad du Lac, Prince of Albion and my...” at this point I ran out of words.

  “Lover,” Galahad supplied, the word a rumble in his chest, but a fine blush coloured his cheeks. He glared at Raven. The others all chose that moment to drink, hiding their smiles.

  The Captain’s right eyebrow arched, the gold ring in it emphasising the movement. “The missing prince,” he murmured and bowed low. “It is an honour to meet you, Highness, and it is even more of an honour to meet the man who has made my friend happy.”

  “These are the royal twins,” I said.

  “I guessed, Holt. Believe it or not I have eyes and although the reports speak of their beauty they do not do them justice,” he said, flirting with Morgan. She grinned and I recognised the hunger in her eyes. I wondered who’d be the notch on whose sword belt by the end of the trip. Raven was an equal opportunities slut.

  “We need passage to the desert, Raven. The Queen...” I faltered.

  “My mother is dead,” Galahad said coldly. “The Lady has the palace and is looking for us. She wishes Lord Pendragon dead, Camelot destroyed and me on the throne under her power. She also wants a chastity belt placed on my sister,” he said, looking at Morgan. “Which might not be a bad idea.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

  I laughed. “I think that’s the first time you’ve made a joke,” I said.

  “I’m good at picking locks,” Raven said quietly, still looking so hard at Morgan he even made me uncomfortable.

  “Just arrived in port?” I asked, all innocence.

  “On the dawn tide,” he said.

  “That explains it,” I murmured. He looked at me sharply, understood my meaning and smiled.

  “You win, Holt,” he said.

  “Good. Now, can you help us?” I asked.

  He ran through various scenarios silently and considered his options. “Money?” he asked.

  I scowled. “How about ignoring the taxes you owe me,” I said.

  He sniffed. “I need time to dispense with my cargo but I was planning on leaving on the morning tide. Haven can be a tricky place to do business,” he said, staring at Lance.

  Lord Fitzwilliam smiled sweetly. “It’s lucky then we all arrived at just the right time. If Holt trusts you, we’ll make it worth your while.”

  “I doubt luck had much to do with it,” I muttered. I straightened and said, “Although I trust Lance’s men and my own of course, there are too many fey in Haven to be completely safe. Can we spend the night on the Echo?”

  “We’ll go there now, my friend. Will it be a double berth for you and the young prince?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Galahad said firmly.

  I merely shrugged.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The horses would be stabled at the inn for the night before grooms returned them to Lance’s stable. I fussed for a long time over Sparrow, we’d been through a great deal together over the years and I’d miss him. I finally consented to be led to the docks and the Echo’s familiar shape sat quietly in mid-river. I smiled at her familiar silhouette while I walked with Raven and clasped his shoulder. “She looks as well as ever, my friend.”

  “She’s served me finely and we are happily married.”

  The ship in question had sleek lines, a fine prow and shallow girth. She was fast, the fastest on the river or the sea and Raven was a captain who read the stars, not the land, so we had no need to hug the coast. The Lady, despite her affinity for water, wouldn’t be able to find us on the ocean, of that I was certain. We climbed into the skiff which would take us to the ship, anchored in the deepest part of the river. The small boat skimmed over the surface of the river and we climbed the rigging on the side to reach her deck. Galahad and Lance helped Nim, who I knew was able to climb just as well as the rat her sister proved to be, but she seemed to be enjoying Lance’s attention.

  The highly polished metalwork, scrubbed decks and finely repaired sails spoke of tight discipline on board, even if the crew resembled something from the drunk house of Albion’s prisons. I bade a fond hello to those I recognised and everyone returned to their duties.

  Raven spoke hurriedly to his first mate, a man I didn’t know, and we were ushered below decks and aft to Raven’s room. He unlocked it and welcomed us in to its sumptuous interior.

  “Clearly avoiding crown taxes has its advantages,” Lance said. “You’ve finer linen than I can afford.”

  “A gift only, my Lord,” Raven said. “As is this fine vintage I’m pouring for you.”

  Lance laughed. “Well, if you can keep us well fed and watered I might forgive you.”

  “That’s the idea,” Raven said, handing Fitzwilliam a fine glass of wine. He poured Galahad’s next, then the twins and mine last. “For you, my King,” he said with gravity.

  “Thank you, Captain Raven. I am honoured as always.” We shared a moment of understanding, partly because we’d once been intimate, partly because Raven might operate on the grey side of black, but he’d never betray the throne of Camelot. He remembered our homeland, just as I did, and he loved my father.

  We drank a silent toast to Camelot and my father’s passing before he broke the mood with a joke. I missed it completely, blinking back the sudden tears. Galahad’s firm hand held my shoulder and I smiled at him, grateful for the solidarity.

  I settled down and the day began to darken outside the tiny thick panes of glass in the stern of the ship. Raven showed the women
their small berth, Lance would be sharing with the Captain and I would be sharing with Galahad. We ate a fine meal that evening and I began to relax. We were safe and heading out of port in the morning. The gentle rocking of the ship on the river’s surface made me feel at home.

  “I think I need some fresh air,” Galahad said, looking owlishly at the glass of wine he held.

  Nim giggled, curled up on Raven’s bed with Lance. I had a moment of clarity; Nim and Morgan should be sharing with Galahad and I, not each other. Leaving Lance and Raven in charge of their moral care felt like putting wild cats in charge of looking after a chicken coop.

  “Come on, handsome, let’s clear your head,” I said, hauling Galahad to his feet. “Ladies, I think it’s time you retired for the night.”

  Nim unknotted herself from Lance and crossed the small room toward me. She rose on her toes and kissed my cheek. “Try not to think too much, Holt. We are all grown up now.”

  I frowned but Galahad grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the room. I helped him stay upright as we climbed the ladder to the deck and felt the slap around the face when the cool night air hit me. Galahad swayed violently and groaned loudly.

  I coaxed him to the rails in case he was sick and let him take deep breaths. Eventually he shivered slightly but said, “It’s beautiful.”

  I leaned with my back against the rail, staring out over dark side of the river and watching the stars dominate the night sky. “Yes, it is,” I said. “I love life out on the ships. It’s so much simpler.”

  “That’s what you crave, isn’t it?” he asked. “A simpler life.”

  I stared at my boots. “We all crave a simpler life,” I said. “I know my father did.”

  “What about mine?” he asked quietly.

  I laughed. “Lancelot was not a natural king. A leader yes, but a king, never. If it hadn’t been for Morgana and Arthur, I don’t think he’d have lasted long. He’d have killed the Senate and told everyone they could look after themselves.”

  Galahad smiled. “Would he have liked me?”

  I studied my young friend. “He loved you very much and yes, I think he would have liked you. He’d have seen your good heart and known you for a fine man.”

  “I’ve said some awful things.”

  “You’ve been very scared and fallen back on training, I can see that,” I said.

  “You’re very forgiving,” he said.

  I turned so we faced the same direction and I looked at Haven’s torches blazing into the night and the noise of a port enjoying itself. It did look beautiful, full of life. I placed a hand over Galahad’s where they rested lightly on the rail.

  “The moment I met you, I could see the damage done to you by someone who has a need to control everything around them. Did she use violence to train you?” I asked gently.

  He stiffened. “My life with her is over. Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter. I have changed, followed my heart, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t push, something awful lurked in the dark of Galahad’s mind but now wasn’t the time. “So long as you are honest to yourself and those you care about you will live a good life. It won’t be easy but it will be good.”

  He nodded but remained silent. We both stared out over the water for a time. “Are we going to bed soon?” he asked quietly.

  “If that’s what you want,” I said, my heart racing with his soft words. “This morning though, I woke in Torvec’s arms. I think you might want to wait. Make sure this is what you want. There’s no going back, Galahad.”

  He turned to look at me, his eyes full of dark fire. “You think I haven’t thought through all the connotations?” he asked. “The first night you spent with Torvec almost sent me mad with rage, but I didn’t know why I was so angry. I thought it was your desire but it’s not, it’s mine. The fact that you were with him this morning doesn’t matter, you are with me now.”

  I smiled, feeling his possessiveness like a warm blanket.

  “But,” he qualified. “How many more men are there? Our Captain seems smitten with you.”

  I laughed. “Raven and I were lovers, but it was nothing serious. I didn’t feel anything for him like I feel for you. And there has been...” How did I say this tactfully? “Um, I’ve probably had my share of bed mates.” Sometimes without beds but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “So I really am the neophyte,” he said a little bleakly.

  “We don’t have to do anything at all, Galahad,” I said.

  “If I don’t do it, I won’t know if I like it.”

  “No pressure on me then,” I said, amused.

  He looked at me with those piercing dark eyes. “I know you think I’m some kind of naive fool but I mean it when I tell you, I love you.” He’d become very serious, almost fierce in this words.

  “I don’t think you are a fool,” I said.

  “I’m not a true knight, I’ve never been tested in real battle, never led men in war, I know I’m a child in your eyes.” I could hear the anger, a young man desperate to prove himself and become my equal.

  “Galahad, you will be tested and you will not be found wanting, of that I am certain. I can’t do anything to make you older, or recover your lost childhood, but I can stand by your side as you discover the man you want to be,” I said.

  He hung his head for a moment and when he looked up, he smiled. “You are a good man, Loholt Pendragon.”

  “Glad you approve, can we go and continue your corruption?” I asked lightly.

  “I’d like that.”

  We left the deck, tied together by invisible threads of desire, the rest of the world vanishing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  We walked into our small bunk, the room no more than six foot high, and eight foot square. The bed, a stuffed mattress lying on hard boards, could be no more than four foot wide and just over six long.

  “It’ll be a tight fit,” I said. We both hunched slightly to fit into the room safely, neither of us willing to risk our heads on the beams.

  “Probably, but I’m certain you’ll manage,” Galahad said. I glanced at him and the twinkle in his eyes made me laugh.

  “That’s the first time you’ve done that with me,” I said.

  “A sense of humour wasn’t a part of my education,” he said, sitting on the bed. He began to unlace his boots. I sat on the floor and started to perform the same ritual.

  “I had thought this would be a romantic occasion as we slowly undressed each other,” I said. “We’d drink wine, eat sweetmeats, seduce each other slowly – that kind of thing.”

  Galahad yawned. “To be honest, I think that would have just made it weird. We’ve spent nights together in camp, this is normal. This is what we do. Besides, I’m exhausted.”

  I stopped trying to pull my right boot off and looked at him. Exhausted was an inadequate word to use, Galahad appeared to be completely drained. His pale skin was slightly ashen and his eyes dark hollows.

  “You need sleep, not sex,” I said.

  He stopped unlacing his doublet. “Yes, you’re right, I need to sleep but I can’t until I know,” he said.

  A grim smile spread over my face. “Let’s hope I get this right or you’re going to break my heart,” I said.

  “It won’t do much for mine if I’m wrong.” He reached out and touched one of the errant tangles of blonde hair. “But I don’t think I am.” He dropped to his knees before me, cupped my jaw in his hand and rubbed his palm against the prickle of stubble. “This is strange,” he murmured, “but I like it.”

  He pulled on my shirt and it slid off my arms. I sat only in my leather hose, my cock stirring. Galahad trailed his fingertips down my chest. His breathing became heavier and his dark eyes wells of lust. I just sat still, letting his fingers explore and his mind tell him the story of my body.

  “You’ve been hurt so often,” he whispered, touching a scar over my upper arm.

  “So long as it’s not you trying to hack my head off,” I s
aid, seeking levity.

  His eyes snapped to mine. “I will never hurt you,” he said.

  I doubted it somehow but I didn’t think he would use a sword to carve my heart out. I tried to smile but having Galahad here, like this – so very intimate in such a tight space – scared me. He’d always been intense but here and now, he felt overwhelming, dominating me without even being aware of it. I thought I’d be in control, but Galahad moved like a huge wild cat. His energy powerful.

  “Get on the bed,” he ordered. His voice was soft, deep.

  I scrambled up, undid the laces on my hose and sat on the bed. He turned on his knees, slapped my hand from the laces and opened my thighs.

  “Galahad, I think I should –”

  “You want me to know. I want to know. Don’t stop me, please.” It didn’t sound like a request, more like an order.

  My heart pounded, rushing blood through my ears and my limbs were weak. He further loosened my hose, reached inside and pulled out my straining manhood. His head tilted to one side as if his internal dialogue asked him a question and he considered his answer. A small smile played over his lips. My hands, propping me up on the bed, balled into fists, crunching the woollen blankets.

  His fingers played up the shaft and over the head. I sighed and bit back a moan. He looked up at me, seemingly much older, more knowing.

  “What was the last thing you did with Torvec?” he asked, catching me by surprise.

  It wasn’t a welcome surprise either.

  “Galahad, that’s not something I want to talk about while you have my cock in your hand,” I said gruffly. In fact I pulled back, removed said organ from his grasp and covered myself over.

  He watched me, his eyes narrowing. “I think it’s a fair question.”

  A sharp bitter laugh escaped my control. “I don’t.”

  We moved away from each other, Galahad subsiding onto his knees and I scooted back on the bed. “Why do you want to know?” I asked eventually.