Gawain (Knights of Excalibur Book 1)

by Hanley, Donald

  “This sounds suspicious,” Trisha said warily.

  Hawk smiled. “I wish I’d had you with me back then. I was just a young and naive Knight, the youngest at Arthur’s court at the time. I thought it was a great idea, until Bertilak made me a deal.”

  “That sounds even more suspicious.”

  “It seemed innocent enough. Bertilak said he’d give me everything he caught during the day if I gave him everything I got.”

  “Okay,” Trisha said carefully.

  “So the next day, he went off hunting and Lady Bertilak tried to seduce me.”

  “What?” She was aghast and Hawk’s smile broadened into a grin.

  “She was a fine-looking woman, but she was married to my host. It wouldn’t have been honorable to accept her advances.”

  “I should hope not.” She sounded like a stuffy old biddy even to herself, but there were limits, even in the Dark Ages.

  “She was very persistent, but in the end she settled for giving me a kiss on the cheek. When Bertilak returned that night, he gave me the deer he caught and I gave him the kiss I got.”

  Trisha blinked at him, trying to imagine that scene. “Didn’t he wonder why you kissed him instead of giving him a dead animal or something?”

  “He didn’t ask. The next day, the same thing happened. Bertilak gave me a boar and I gave him two kisses.”

  Trisha’s eyes narrowed. “Only two, you’re sure about that?”

  Hawk coughed discretely. “She was very determined and I was just a young man, remember.”

  “And the third day? I assume there was a third day.”

  He nodded. “A fox in return for three kisses.”

  “Your resolve was weakening, I see.”

  “More than you know. I didn’t give Bertilak the girdle I got from his wife.”

  “Her girdle?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of girdle. Back then, it was a kind of belt. This one was supposed to be enchanted, able to protect whoever wore it from physical harm.”

  “Oh. You were worried about the Green Knight.”

  He nodded somberly. “The next day, I headed out for the Green Chapel. The Green Knight was waiting for me, sharpening another axe.”

  “What did you do?”

  “What I promised. I knelt in front of him and let him take a swing.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Trisha gasped. “Why would you do that? Why didn’t you just kill him with your sword or something?”

  “Because my word means something, Trisha, then and now.” He looked out the window and she wondered what he was seeing other than snow. “He took a couple of swings at my neck, playing with me, and I finally told him to get it over with. He took one more swing, nicking the back of my neck,” he rubbed his hand there ruefully, “and then just stepped back and laughed. The Green Knight disappeared and Bertilak stood in his place.”

  “You mean Bertilak was the Green Knight all along?”

  “He said it was a test of honor and honesty and that I passed.” Hawk massaged his forehead wearily. “He was wrong, of course.”

  “What are you talking about? You showed up to get your head cut off like you promised, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but I also promised to give him everything I got while I stayed with him, and I didn’t. I kept the girdle.” Trisha didn’t know what to say. “He forgave me for that little slip and called me the most blameless knight in all the land. I knew better. I kept that girdle to remind me of the one time I failed to keep my word.”

  He fell silent, staring down at his hands on the table, and Trisha felt bad for him. Even though he escaped death, he obviously felt the whole adventure was a failure, just because of a stupid belt. His story wasn’t anything like she expected and she wondered how closely it followed the tale of the Green Knight that people knew today.

  After a minute of awkward silence, she cleared her throat. “So Bertilak was a magician too, like Merlin?” Hawk looked up at her with a frown. “You said he could change his appearance. And survive getting his head cut off,” she added as an afterthought.

  “Oh. No, that was Morgana’s doing. She was the magician, not Bertilak.”

  “Who’s Morgana?”

  “You remember Nim telling you about Uthyr and Gorlois’ wife Igraine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Morgana was one of Gorlois’ daughters, Arthur’s half-sister. You might know her better by her other name: Morgan le Fay.”

  “Oh my God!” Trisha gasped. “I know who that is!”

  Hawk nodded. “She hated Arthur pretty much from the day he was born. The whole thing with the Green Knight was just another one of her ploys to mess with him. I just got in the way.” He gnawed his lower lip in grim thoughtfulness. “She pretty much hated me too after that.”

  “So how did she learn her magic? From Merlin?”

  “Yeah,” Hawk sighed. “She seduced the horny old goat and he taught her just enough to be dangerous. I think that’s what gave him the idea to train Nim and her sisters later on.”

  “Is Morgana –” Trisha hesitated to ask, but she really wanted to know the answer. “Is she still alive?”

  “We’re not sure, actually,” Hawk mused. “She might be, based on some things we’ve seen every now and then, but she hasn’t popped in to say hi.”

  “You say that like you expect her to show up at the next family reunion,” Trisha observed wryly. Hawk just looked at her with an odd expression and her smile faded. “What did I say?”

  “Are you sure you don’t know these stories already?” he asked suspiciously.

  “All I know about King Arthur is what happened in that Monty Python movie. Is there something about Morgana’s family that’s important?”

  “Important to me, anyway,” Hawk said with a shrug. “Her sister Morgause is my mother.”

  Trisha gaped at him. “Are you kidding me? Morgan le Fay is your aunt?”

  “And Arthur Pendragon is my uncle. Just imagine what Christmas dinner is going to be like if we ever get everyone together.”

  53

  Lionel pulled into a parking slot near the corner of the restaurant, turning off his headlights to avoid attracting attention but keeping the wipers on so he could see through the windshield. The restaurant was brightly lit inside but he could only see a few of the tables from his position. None of the people near the windows looked like Hawk or Trisha.

  He scanned the nearby cars, looking for the one Chantal had described to him. It sounded like Hawk was driving Nim’s Jaguar for some reason, presumably because his own car was so badly damaged. Maybe they’re just bringing it back to New York for her, he mused sourly. But what’s she driving, then? He thought he spotted it near the entrance to the restaurant but it was hard to be certain. All of the cars had a layer of snow on them now, rendering them indistinguishable.

  “Do you still have them in sight?” he asked. His phone sat in the center console in hands-free mode.

  “Oui.” Chantal sounded surly and he couldn’t blame her. Tracking someone through a snowstorm was no one’s idea of a good time.

  “And there’s still no sign of Nim or Butler?”

  “Non.”

  Are they at the mansion or did they leave town as well? The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced they just wrapped up their Boston expedition and headed back to New York. Nim would have wanted Hawk with her if she thought she’d run into any trouble at the mansion. Do they know who Viviane’s mole is? They know they have a leak now but maybe they don’t know his name yet. That was a thin hope. The agent’s days were numbered, maybe even his hours. Lionel hoped Viviane would be able to get word to him in time.

  “They are leaving.”

  Lionel sat up straight and peered through the windows but he couldn’t spot them moving around inside. A minute later, though, the front door opened and they stepped out, pausing to wrap themselves up. Trisha wore a hoodie and her winter coat and Hawk had a white pullover sweater with Providence R.I
. stitched across the front in blue letters. He must have picked it up when they stopped for gas back there.

  They spent a minute brushing snow off their car with their sleeves and then clambered inside. The lights flared but they sat there for a minute, probably trying to warm it up first. Finally, Hawk put it in gear and pulled around slowly, heading for the parking lot exit and the highway beyond.

  “Are you on them?”

  “Oui.” Another car rolled past and Lionel caught a fleeting glimpse of Savard in the passenger seat. He was tempted to ask Chantal how he was doing, but Savard seemed alert and she resented any mention of him. He let it go and turned on his headlights to follow them.

  This is pointless, he told himself. They’re obviously heading back to Pendragon Tower. But there’s no reason for Trisha to go, he reminded himself, and she was the one who got into my laptop. Do they need her to identify our agent? That thought stuck in his mind as he sped up to keep Chantal’s car in sight. We’re going to have to kill her before they get to New York. It’s the only way to be sure.

  54

  Trisha sat slumped in the passenger seat, her head propped on her hand as she stared out the window. The trip south along Long Island Sound was bad enough when she was the one doing the driving. When she had nothing to do except sit there and watch the snow-covered trees whip by on either side of the highway, it was mind-numbingly dull.

  She and Hawk barely exchanged a dozen words since they left the restaurant. His gaze was fixed on the roadway ahead and she didn’t want to break his concentration. even though there was almost no traffic on the highway. She thought about turning on the radio, but she doubted they had the same taste in music. What do medieval knights listen to, anyway? she mused. Lute music? Her snort of amusement earned her a brief sideways glance but nothing else.

  At least they managed to outrun the snowstorm, although the forecast of clear skies over New York seemed optimistic. Featureless gray clouds dulled the early afternoon sun and hinted that snow might come earlier than predicted. She hoped they’d reach Virginia before it started.

  She jumped when her phone rang and she floundered around searching for it, finally digging it out of the front pocket of the hoodie she removed after the car warmed up. She checked the number and then answered hurriedly.

  “Mom! Where have you been?” It was nearly two o’clock now.

  “We just got home, dear.” Her mother still had a trace of her Scottish brogue in her voice even after all these years in the States. “We took lunch in Front Royal after church and then did the shopping. The weather’s turning and we wanted to make sure we had everything if the roads close again.”

  “Shopping?” Trisha shot a suspicious glance at Hawk, who had his head turned slightly to listen in. “Okay, but why didn’t you answer my call?”

  “Oh, I changed coats for church and left my phone in the other pocket. I didn’t have it until just now and saw you rang.”

  “I called Dad’s phone too.”

  “He forgot to charge it last night. You’d think the world was ending, the way he was carrying on about it after church.”

  “Seriously?” She couldn’t believe how incredibly accurate Hawk’s prediction was and she wondered if it was just a lucky guess or whether there was something else behind it.

  “So are you still coming down for Christmas, dear, is that what this is?” She pronounced down doon, a habit she just couldn’t or wouldn’t break.

  “Yes, I’ll be there, don’t worry,” Trisha promised, exasperated.

  “Then what’s all the fuss?”

  “Okay, this is going to sound strange, Mom, but do you still have the stuff you wore on your wedding day?”

  “My wedding?” Her mother gasped. “Oh my goodness, Trisha, are you getting married?”

  “What? No!” Trisha told her hastily, but it was too late. She heard her mother calling to her father in another room.

  “James, come quick! Patricia’s getting married!”

  “What?”

  “No, I’m not getting married!” Her protest fell on deaf ears as her father came on the line.

  “Trisha, what’s all this about a wedding? You should have told us sooner. Your mother’s all in a fluster now.”

  “Dad, it’s just a misunderstanding. I’m not getting married. Can you put Mom back on, please?”

  “Are you sure? Your mother seems awfully excited about it.”

  “I think I’d know if I were getting married, Dad,” she told him testily. “I was just asking her about her wedding dress.”

  “Ah.” It didn’t sound like he understood that at all, but he gave the phone back. “False alarm, Donna, there’s no wedding,” he said in the background.

  “No? Oh.” Her mother sounded so downcast that Trisha felt guilty for getting her hopes up. “Sorry, dear, I just thought – well, no matter. What’s this about my dress, then? I don’t think it will fit you,” she cautioned. “You’re a bit too tall.”

  “That’s okay, Mom,” Trisha said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t care about the dress, I wanted to know about the brooch you wore.”

  “The brooch?”

  “Yes, the cairngorm.”

  “That old thing? I just borrowed that from your great-aunt Maisie. Mine had a broken clasp.”

  Trisha’s heart fell into her stomach. “You gave it back?” she asked in dismay.

  “Oh, no. We went back to Lakenheath right after the honeymoon. It’s probably still packed up somewhere.”

  “But you still have it? Aunt Maisie didn’t ask for it back?”

  “She never mentioned it and I’d forgotten all about it until now. What do you want it for?”

  “It’s ... a little hard to explain.”

  “Well, I suppose we could have a look around when you come down for Christmas,” her mother said doubtfully. “It’s probably in the attic with the other boxes your father won’t get rid of.”

  “There’s important things in there!” he called from somewhere.

  “Actually, we’re on the way there now,” Trisha admitted. “We’ll be there in ...” She looked at Hawk, who was obviously listening in on her half of the conversation. He held up his hand with all five fingers spread. “Five hours.”

  “You’re coming here?” Her mother sounded surprised, if not outright shocked. “Whatever for?”

  “I’ll explain everything when we get there, Mom. Just keep your phone with you, okay?”

  “All right, dear,” she said, clearly puzzled by the entire conversation. “We’ll hold dinner for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Mom. We’ll just eat something along the way. We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

  “Nonsense. If you’re going to drive through all this awful weather, the least we can do is give you a hot meal. We’ll have your room ready, too.”

  Trisha gave up. “That’ll be great, Mom, thanks. We can’t stay long, though.”

  “Wait, you keep saying we. Is someone with you?”

  “Oh, er, yes,” she said, shooting a worried glance at Hawk. In the back of her mind, she had some vague hope she’d be able to keep him out of the picture somehow – there was no way she’d ever be able to explain who Hawk really was and how they met – but she realized that wouldn’t work at all, short of dumping him by the side of the road and going the rest of the way on her own.

  “Is it that doctor friend of yours? He seemed very nice when you came down last summer.”

  “No, Mom, it’s not him,” Trisha told her patiently. “We broke up months ago.”

  “Oh, thank God!” her mother exclaimed with relieved sigh. “He was such a stick when he was here.”

  “I thought you liked him.”

  “Well, we were just happy you were seeing someone again, but you can do better than that, dear. So tell me about your new man,” she prompted eagerly. “What does he do?”

  “He’s not my man, Mom,” Trisha corrected her quickly, feeling her ears warm. “He’s just –” She looked at
Hawk, not entirely certain what their relationship was now. He glanced back at her with a raised eyebrow. “A friend,” she finished lamely.

  “Ah, well, it takes time to get to know someone. Your father and I are looking forward to meeting him. What does he like to eat? We picked up a roast today but it might not be large enough for four.”

  Trisha sighed resignedly. “I’m sure whatever you decide to make will be fine, Mom.”

  “That’s grand. We’ll see you at seven, then. Or should it be later? The county hasn’t plowed all the roads yet, so you might have a bit of trouble on the back lanes.”

  “I don’t know, Mom, we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

  “All right. See you soon, dear.” Her mother took the phone away from her ear, probably to find the disconnect button, but Trisha could still hear her talking. “Trisha’s coming down with her new boyfriend. Go straighten up the dining room and get the fire laid.”

  “Her boyfriend?” Her father sounded excited all over again.

  “He’s not my –” The connection dropped, cutting off Trisha’s urgent attempt to correct her. She leaned back against the headrest with her eyes closed. “Oh my God,” she breathed.

  “Trouble?” Hawk asked.

  “You have no idea,” she sighed. “They’ve been dropping hints about grandkids for a whole year now. Every man I meet automatically become husband material. Sorry to drag you into all that.”

  “I’ll manage,” he said sardonically.

  “Wait, are you married?” That would put an end to her mother’s matchmaking, at least for this trip, but Hawk held up his left hand. His ring finger was bare. “Darn it.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.” The Jaguar surged forward, switching lanes to pass a pickup truck still shedding bits of its blanket of snow.

  “Why are you speeding up?” Trisha looked around curiously but there was no obvious reason for the change.