Gawain (Knights of Excalibur Book 1)

by Hanley, Donald

  Perhaps I could play with him a little before I kill him, she mused, running her tongue across her lips in sensuous anticipation. I will make him pleasure me to atone for what he did, perhaps even fill my womb with his seed to replace those he slaughtered. Then I can cut his dick and balls from his body and have them stuffed. They would make a fine addition to my collection and he could continue to satisfy me even after he’s dead. She didn’t think Lionel would mind too much.

  Hawk pulled a pair of gym shorts from his bag and quickly pulled them up, cutting off her fantasy and pulling her back to the job at hand. It looked like he was getting ready for bed, even though it wasn’t all that late, and she wondered if she should stay or report back to Lionel. She decided to remain until she was certain Hawk was asleep and then return to the mansion.

  Hawk grabbed his towel and headed back to the bathroom and she reared back in surprise. Half-hidden beneath the hair on his back was a tattoo of a five-pointed star, the thick indigo strokes weaving over and under each other in a single unbroken line. It stretched from shoulder to shoulder and from neck to waist, almost gleaming with its own light as she bared her teeth with a hiss.

  He stopped and turned with a scowl and she ducked away, leaping up to the railing and balancing on it like a acrobat on a tightrope, her back pressed against the frigid stone of the wall. The curtains parted and he peered out into the night, but his light-blinded eyes had no hope of spotting her. He turned away finally and she waited for a slow count of fifty before slipping back down onto the balcony.

  A careful peep through the window showed that he had left the bedroom, but she jumped back to the living room balcony and found him in the kitchen, getting something out of the refrigerator. She settled down just out of sight to wait for him to finally retire, already plotting his death.

  Soon, she promised herself. Soon he will pay for what he did to Maman.

  17

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m dead serious, Trisha.”

  “He really thinks he’s King Arthur?” Lionel nodded. “And they let him run a multi-national corporation?”

  “He doesn’t walk around in armor with a crown on his head and his delusion doesn’t make him any less business savvy. If you ever met him, you’d think he was very charming and intelligent. Very few people know what truly drives him.”

  “Okay, so he’s a crazy old coot who likes swinging swords in his spare time. Why is that a problem?”

  “The problem is that he intends to fulfill King Arthur’s destiny.” Trisha shook her head doubtfully. “Legend has it that when Arthur was gravely wounded at the Battle of Camlann, his body was spirited away to Avalon, where he would sleep until England needed him once more.”

  “And does England really need him now?”

  “One could argue the whole world needs a King Arthur now. War, poverty, disease, corruption, all the woes of modern society. Certainly, that’s how our Arthur perceives it.”

  “So what’s he going to do? Bring back Camelot? Wouldn’t the British have something to say about that?”

  “One would imagine,” Lionel said with a crooked smile. “Restoring Camelot wouldn’t be simple or easy, but remember, he has access to the world’s secrets. When he feels the time is right, it will be very difficult to stop him.”

  “Would that be so bad? Camelot was supposed to be a peaceful place, right?”

  “Camelot lasted just a handful of years before it collapsed in fire and bloodshed, Trisha. The King Arthur of old believed in the inherent goodness of all men. He was blind to the petty selfishness and ambition of those around him. Even his own wife turned her back on him. The fall of Camelot cast Britain into a century of darkness, all because of him.”

  “And you’re worried the same thing will happen here?”

  “Our Arthur shares the same flaws as his namesake but his resources are infinitely greater. He believes he can lead the world into a new era of peace and prosperity. He doesn’t understand that the people he trusts the most will destroy everything he creates.”

  “You mean people like Hawk.” Lionel inclined his head soberly. “So why hasn’t Arthur done it already? What’s stopping him?”

  “Excalibur.”

  “The sword?”

  “Yes. He believes it will give him the power and authority he needs to guide humanity along the proper path, the path he’s chosen for them.”

  “So he doesn’t have it yet.”

  “No.”

  “Does it actually exist? I thought it was just a legend.”

  “He believes it exists and he’s searching for it. Unfortunately, we can’t assume it’s just a fairy tale. If it is real, it would be disastrous to let it fall into Arthur’s hands. We have to find it first.”

  “We?” Trisha frowned. “The Boston Police Department?”

  Lionel looked chagrined. “Ah.” He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, Trisha.”

  Trisha leaned away from him, feeling a knot form in her stomach. “What do you mean?” she asked carefully.

  “I’m not really with the Boston PD. It’s just a convenient ruse when I need to get access to certain people.”

  “So who are you really?” She eyed the archway leading to the atrium, wondering if she could outrun him if she had to.

  “I belong to an organization dedicated to stopping Arthur Pendragon by any means possible.”

  “A whole organization just for him?” Rising fear made her sarcastic.

  “Him and his inner circle. Think of us as a branch of Interpol, if that helps.”

  “It doesn’t. Who are you really? Is Lionel your real name?”

  “It really is. I’m sorry, Trisha, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to understand what was happening and why.”

  “I still don’t understand. What does any of this have to do with me? Why did Hawk come looking for me?” There was a hysterical edge to her voice now.

  Lionel made a calming motion with his hands. “I don’t know, but I will find out, I promise. Just give me a little time.” She shook her head vehemently and he spread his hands. “I’ll bring you back home if that’s want you want, but I can’t guarantee your safety there. Hawk and Butler are still out there somewhere.”

  Trisha stood abruptly and walked to the fireplace, hugging herself tightly as she watched the flickering flames. Lionel stayed where he was, staring down at his interlocked fingers.

  “Tell me about Hawk,” she said finally. “Who is he?”

  “He’s one of Pendragon’s most trusted operatives, a member of his inner circle. Lucas Butler is another.”

  “His inner circle? Do you mean the Knights of the Round Table?” She was only half joking. Surely a man obsessed with King Arthur and Camelot would have a Round Table, but Lionel shook his head.

  “No, that was another of Arthur’s failures, the original Arthur, I mean. He tried to introduce democratic concepts into a world that couldn’t comprehend them. When everything started falling apart, half of his knights remained loyal to him and the other half sided with Guinevere and Lancelot. The result was war, brother pitted against brother in a futile attempt to decide Britain’s future. Everyone lost.”

  Trisha looked over her shoulder at Lionel. He looked despondent, as if he’d actually been there and witnessed the fall of Camelot. He noticed her watching and straightened in his chair, schooling his expression. “Today’s Arthur does have his Knights, though,” he told her, “men like Hawk and Butler. They’re fiercely loyal to him and very dangerous.”

  She shuddered despite the heat of the fire. “What makes them so dangerous? What does he have them do?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  “If Pendragon were a typical crime lord, they would be his enforcers. He sends them out to find things for him, using whatever means necessary.”

  “What sort of things?”

  “Artifacts, mostly, objects from the time of King
Arthur. And people, on occasion.”

  “He kidnaps people?” Trisha stared at him in horror. “Did he tell Hawk to kidnap me?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better. He looks for experts on that era: historians, anthropologists, collectors, even druids if you can believe that. Anyone who can give him clues as to where Excalibur might be hidden.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me, but Pendragon takes it very seriously. Whenever his sources locate an object of interest, he sends his Knights on a Quest to fetch it. They rarely fail him.”

  “A Quest?” Trisha could almost hear the capital Q.

  “That’s what he calls these missions. It’s very ... poetic, I suppose,” he said wryly.

  “So that’s why Hawk and Butler are doing here in Boston? They’re on a Quest?”

  “Actually, I believe the Quest is Butler’s. Hawk didn’t show up until Butler ended up in the hospital. Remember when you told me Butler said west in the ER?”

  “You think he actually said Quest.” Lionel nodded. “So what is he looking for? Why are they after me? I don’t have any ancient swords. I’m not an expert on King Arthur. The only things I know about Camelot are what I see in the movies!” She had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling.

  Lionel rose and took her hands in his, holding her eyes with his. “Trisha,” he said firmly, “I promise you, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Hawk won’t be able to find you here. I can protect you. All right?” She took a shaky breath and nodded jerkily. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink? You look like you could use one.”

  She was about to refuse again but then she changed her mind and nodded. Lionel released her and crossed to the bar. “What would you like?”

  “What do you have?”

  Lionel surveyed the array of bottles in front of him. “Pretty much everything.”

  “I don’t care, just pick something.”

  “All right, let’s see. Single malt scotch, in honor of your last name?”

  That teased the barest hint of a smile from the corner of her mouth. “Sure.”

  “Neat or with water?”

  “Ice, please.”

  “You’d better not let your clansmen find out you like it that way.” Lionel’s back blocked her view but she heard the clink and splash clearly.

  He returned to the fireplace, retrieving his own glass on the way, and handed her the drink. She smelled it cautiously, blinking quickly as the sharp aroma hit her nostrils. Lionel raised his glass in a silent salute and took a sip and Trisha followed suit. The scotch was very smooth but very potent and she exhaled quickly.

  “It’s very good,” she said, a bit breathlessly, and Lionel smiled behind his glass. “So how do you know about all this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if Pendragon keeps his – his fantasy a secret from everyone and he owns the best security technology on the planet, how do you even know what he’s doing?”

  “Every security system, even one as extensive and sophisticated as Pendragon’s, has a fatal flaw, Trisha. We’ve been able to exploit that, although not as thoroughly as we’d like.”

  “You mean like a secret code or something?”

  “No. The weakest link in any system is always the people involved.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Cracking an access code is incredibly difficult. Bribing someone to tell you the code is a lot easier.”

  Trisha blinked at him as she tried to absorb that. “You bribe Pendragon’s employees?”

  “They do the same to us. It’s an endless battle fought in the shadows, neither side gaining much of an advantage for long, but it’s necessary.”

  “Isn’t that illegal?”

  “It’s a gray area,” he admitted ruefully, “but the end justifies the means. We have to ensure Pendragon never finds Excalibur.”

  “Why don’t you just kill him then, if he’s so dangerous? Why go through all this trouble?” She didn’t really mean it seriously, but the whole discussion made her uncomfortable. To her surprise, Lionel just stared down at his drink. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “You’ve tried, haven’t you?”

  “Many times,” he sighed heavily. “He’s a hard man to reach and his Knights are very good at what they do.”

  Trisha gripped her glass tightly to keep her hands from shaking again. “I don’t believe this. It’s not real.”

  “Believe it, Trisha,” Lionel told her somberly. “It’s very real.”

  18

  Try as she might, she couldn’t sleep. Trisha was exhausted by the frantic events of the day and the two drinks she had with Lionel should have relaxed her, but she lay in the bed and stared up at the draping canopy overhead. The room light was on, which didn’t help as it gleamed through the fabric like the sun on an overcast day, but it was pitch black in the room without it and every little noise, real or imagined, startled her awake.

  She tried every trick she could think of to shut off her brain, but her thoughts kept sliding back to the bizarre story Lionel told her by the fireplace. She couldn’t imagine someone so delusional being able to command the loyalty of men like Hawk, but she supposed they were paid handsomely to put up with Arthur Pendragon’s foibles, even if they made no sense at all.

  How can he possibly believe he can bring Camelot back in this day and age? her whirling mind wondered. The British government won’t let him just waltz in and take over. And what does Excalibur have to do with it? It’s just a sword, isn’t it? It’s probably not even real.

  None of that really mattered, of course. The problem keeping her eyes from closing wasn’t Mad King Pendragon, it was his Knights, and one Knight in particular. Why was Hawk looking for me? I don’t know where the sword is. I’m just a nurse.

  Lionel promised to keep her safe, but she didn’t see how, short of keeping her hidden away in his mansion for the rest of her life. Hawk hadn’t done anything illegal, that she was aware of, anyway, so Lionel couldn’t arrest him. He had to figure out what Hawk was really after and find it first, so that Hawk would chase him instead of Trisha. That didn’t sound like a such a great idea to her, but Lionel insisted it was the only avenue available to them. He didn’t explain how in the world he was going to find the object of Butler’s Quest before they did, especially since they had no idea where Butler was or what he was looking for.

  She finally gave up and sat up in bed, hugging the covers tightly. She was almost ready to ask Lionel to take her home. Hawk might still be out there somewhere, but at least she’d be in her own bed with Marco purring beside her. She hoped he was okay.

  Something rattled lightly against the window pane, as if someone had tossed a handful of sand against the glass. Just the wind blowing frozen snow crystals against the glass, she decided uneasily. She thought about opening the curtain to check the weather but she knew if she saw anything move outside – an owl, a leaf, even a shadow from a tree – she would scream hysterically and probably never stop until she fainted from lack of oxygen.

  I can’t keep going like this, Trisha told herself. I have to get some sleep before I go completely insane. Counting sheep never worked for her, but maybe a glass of milk might do the trick. At the very least it might calm the nervous fluttering in her stomach.

  She slid over to the edge of the bed, tugging her t-shirt down as far as it would go, which wasn’t far. In her mad scramble to leave her house, she’d left her pajamas and robe in her bedroom, so all she wore to bed were her black tee and white hiphuggers. Getting dressed again just to run downstairs would only wake her up even more and Lionel was certain to be asleep by now. She would just slip down to the kitchen and get back to her room with no one the wiser.

  She poked her head out into the corridor, listening carefully, but the mansion was deathly silent except for the faint rumble of the furnace keeping everything nice and warm. She hurried along the hallway, her bare feet silent on the thick carpe
ting. She wasn’t sure which room was Lionel’s – she didn’t even know if his bedroom was in this part of the house – but she fervently hoped he wouldn’t pop out of any of the doors she passed.

  She made it to the curving staircase without incident, however, and hurried down, pausing at the bottom to get her bearings. She knew the kitchen was towards the back but she had to locate the main entrance first to figure out which way that was. With most of the lights turned off for the night, the mansion was just a little bit spooky.

  She found a carton of milk in one of the refrigerators easily enough, but she had to hunt through several cabinets to find a glass to pour it into. Although her mother put a lot of stock in the power of warm milk to relax a fussy child, Trisha always thought heating milk made it taste sour. She preferred hers ice cold, like this was.

  She leaned against the edge of the counter, sipping her drink slowly and trying not to think about what tomorrow might bring. All that mattered was getting a good night’s sleep. She’d be able to face nearly anything then.

  She rinsed out her glass and set it in the sink to be dealt with in the morning and headed back towards the stairs. In the center of the atrium, though, a low murmuring caught her ear, unnaturally loud in the stillness. She froze, trying to figure out where it came from, but it faded away and she wondered if she’d just imagined it. Then she heard it again, coming from the other wing.

  Her first instinct was to run as fast as she could back to her bedroom and lock the door behind her, but the sound didn’t seem threatening. Instead, the cadence indicated a conversation just at the edge of her hearing. She couldn’t tell whether it was one person or two, but her curiosity got the better of her. She was sure she would have heard someone else entering the mansion, so this had to be Lionel, perhaps on the phone to someone. Who could he be talking to at this hour?