Relics of Camelot

by L. H. Nicole

  Her eyes skipped to Arthur’s. His full lips pulled into a very assured grin before his gaze fell to the pendant that was hanging around her neck, safely hidden underneath her bodice.

  Aliana felt the heat creep up her neck as she looked away.

  “Who do you favor in this contest, Aliana?” Vira’s excitement matched the crowds and she continued before Aliana could even open her mouth to respond. “I believe my brother will win. He is the best with horses!”

  There seems to be an endless list of the things he’s the best with. On the heels of that thought, Aliana looked at the white knight.

  He was already facing her, his eyes fixed on the purple iris tucked in her hair.

  Her nerves were starting to flare to life again; she was about to watch what amounted to a blood sport. One life had already been claimed in the second race of the day; and several others had been seriously wounded.

  Aliana blinked, returning her focus to Galahad rather than the gruesome knowledge. He inclined his head to her. She said a silent prayer that all their knights would come out of this race unscathed.

  Queen Igraine stepped up onto her covered platform and raised her hands to quiet the cheering masses and draw all attention to her. “Welcome to the final contest to determine our champion!”

  The crowd’s cheering returned, and then stopped again when the queen motioned for quiet.

  “The knight who wins this final race will be known throughout the lands as the greatest champion of Camelot!” She looked at all the men, her smile a little brighter as her son bowed his head to her.

  The pride on her face was as bright as her sunlight-colored eyes. But Aliana knew that pride was for more than just Arthur, it was for all the knights. Igraine had mentioned at dinner, the night before, that she considered all the knights, and all the girls, to be her children.

  “Knights of the realm, take your starting position and may the grace of the gods smile upon you!”

  The crowd clapped as the racers lined up a few feet away at the marked starting line. Igraine held up another red piece of cloth and the excitement in the air thickened and pulsed like a drum beat against Aliana’s skin. No one dared to breathe as the horses danced behind the starting line, awaiting the sign to go.

  The cloth fell from the queen’s long tapered fingers and the racers were already barreling past her, and the girls, before the scrap touched the dirt. The thundering hoof beats was close to drowning out the crowds’ screams and cheers as the knights wasted no time attacking each other and jockeying for position. The three other racers targeted the knights closest: Leyon, Galahad and Merlin.

  Leyon bent forward, ducking a volley from his attacker while simultaneously cutting his weapon upward. It landed in the crook of the other guy’s arm, from the cry of pain, and the way the man dropped his weapon. The mangled racer cradled his arm against his chest and fell to the back of the pack.

  Merlin was the aggressor in his battle, swinging and stabbing his lance into the side of his opponent. The other man’s weapon scored a hit to Merlin’s back causing the Druid to push forward and veer his horse a little to the side, but Merlin quickly regained control and struck the guy’s side hard enough that he tipped in his saddle then fell to the ground. Some of the crown moaned in sympathy pain, but most cheered as the man rolled out of the way of the racing horse hooves.

  Galahad struck his challenger with a heavy hit to the upper part of his chest; the man nearly came clean out of his saddle. His body bent backward, his horse veering to the side as man and beast lost control. The white knight wasted no time maneuvering his horse to catch up to Arthur and Gawain who were exchanging blows at the front of the pack.

  The king and Gawain were holding nothing back, attacking each other like it was their life on the line. It looked for a second like the golden king was about to get the better of Gawain, until Leyon and Galahad came up on either side of the two men. Arthur shifted his attention to Galahad, Gawain’s going to the Celt and Merlin who had joined the fray. The attacks were relentless. Whatever camaraderie had been between the Knights of the Round Table in past races was gone now.

  Merlin swung his weapon at Gawain’s head, the devil-may-care knight meeting it in a thudding clash that splintered and broke both men’s sticks. Leyon capitalized and hit Gawain in the stomach. His body flinched forward, his grip on his horse’s reins slipping causing his mount to zigzag, unintentionally colliding with both Merlin and Leyon. The three of them fell back a few paces behind Galahad and Arthur.

  If either the white knight or golden king realized, they made no show of it. Both men were completely focused on each other; both their weapons clashing as they angled their horses to try to get the other to swerve aside.

  Aliana’s heart was in her throat, one white knuckled hand gripping the bench she was on, the other holding Vira’s tightly. But the teen didn’t notice, her blue eyes fixed on the two brothers in arms.

  “I’ve never seen Arthur or big brother go at each other like this!”

  The shock of Vira’s word drew Aliana’s eyes from the race for a split second. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “All our knights have always been competitive, but Sophvira is right, this is a new level of intensity.” The Fae’s eyes met Aliana’s quickly before looking back where Arthur was currently striking at Galahad.

  Trepidation mixed with fear and sank her stomach like the Titanic. Were they being so aggressive because of her?

  The two thundered past the girls in the final leg of the race. Merlin, Leyon and Gawain were not far behind, all three racing to catch up and maybe pass the two fighting knights. Blood dotted all their clothes and faces; they all were going to need Igraine’s and Morgana’s salves.

  The crowd’s cheers got louder as both Arthur and Galahad knocked the others’ weapons from their hands. Both men turned forward and spurned their mounts to go faster. Now it would all come down to who crossed the finish line first. And the other three were gaining quickly. Not wanting to miss the lightning fast ending that was coming up, Aliana grabbed a small bit of her ruby magic to speed up her vision so it was like watching a scene in slow motion.

  Galahad looked at Arthur quickly, as the finish line drew closer—Aliana chewed off one of the last nails she had left—and said something which got lost in the roars of the crowd. But Arthur ignored it. The king kicked his heels into his horse just feet from the finish line. Everyone got to their feet; it looked like Arthur was going to win.

  At the very last second Galahad shot forward, his horse barely getting a third of the way across the finish line before Arthur’s.

  The crowds ignited with cheers and elation as Aliana felt her heart damn near explode in her chest. She released the magic quickly, her hand clutching her top, over her heaving chest, as she struggled to suck oxygen into her starved lungs. When had she stopped breathing?

  Vira’s screams of delight were close to ear-piercing but Aliana managed to tune it, and all the other noise, out as the guys pulled their horses to a stop. Galahad’s blazing blue eyes found hers first as he hefted his helmet up in victory.

  21

  It is taking too long to find the pocket that Fae queen bitch has dropped Mordrid in. Viviane fears the longer he is trapped the more his powers will weaken. I can’t say I mind his temporary imprisonment; it gives me some sort of revenge for what he put me through for that Aliana. The more pressing matter is why Viviane and I are having memories of her in Camelot. They are dangerous to me, to us. The longer Mordrid is gone the more sway those old feelings have over me. I realize now, the pain in my soul is crying out for its mate. Viviane’s warnings all those centuries ago were right. Aliana must be stopped and I must get my souls mate to come to my side again.

  ~Morgana

  ALIANA BREEZED THROUGH THE TENTS that were being disassembled by servants, stalking toward Galahad’s. “Dagg, I need you to give me some privacy,” she whispered. No one was around them as the Dragon returned to his natural form.

&n
bsp; “Aliana…”

  She cut him off. “No. I will be with Galahad. I need you to get the others here so I can talk to all of them.” She turned her pleading kitty eyes on him full force. “Please, Dagg.”

  He frowned but nodded. “I will return shortly.” He flew up into the air, heading toward the castle, his small body looking like a bird from that height. The last of the sunlight lit the sky in shades of red, purple and pink, a beautiful sight, but Aliana couldn’t appreciate it. She was too worried how the knights were going to react. Finally she came to his tent, heard voices inside but didn’t bother to announce herself as she flung back one flap and entered.

  Galahad was sitting on a stool, his shirt set aside as Raven finished gathering up his chainmail and other pieces of armor. The knight’s intense eyes met hers, his posture straightening a little. Galahad motioned for the servant to leave.

  He bowed to them and left, only the healer who was applying an herbal-smelling salve to the knight’s back remained.

  Aliana steeled her nerves and went to the old woman healer. “I’ll do that.”

  The lady set aside the jar in her hand, bowed to Galahad and left.

  Aliana moved to where the old woman had been, picked up the clay jar and scooped up a small bit of tacky salve. She bit back a gasp at the dark, green and brown bruises, old and new, all over his body. “My god, how were you able to stand?”

  “I have had far worse injuries.” His muscles tensed as her fingers touched his hot skin, gently rubbing the healing balm on the bruises.

  Galahad’s shoulders slumped, his head falling forward as her fingers moved higher on his back, over a puckered scar and on to a new ache on one broad shoulder.

  When she finished, the knight stood, stretching his thick arms. Flushing from the hot sight of his toned body, Aliana handed him his shirt and tunic. He was just finishing dressing when the tent flap opened. One by one the knights, still dirty from the race, entered. The girls, Guin, Delphina and Vira followed. Aliana frowned, not seeing Morgana among the group. Maybe her absence was for the better.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said after clearing her throat. “There’s something I need to tell y’all about.”

  Leyon raised a brow. “Are you finally ready, lass?”

  Aliana nodded as Dagg settled around her shoulders. “Some of you already know, I was sent here to find something, a relic that will help me locate the Grail of Power.”

  Several of the guys sucked in surprised breaths. Galahad and Arthur fixed her with heated glares.

  “Sent by whom?” the king asked.

  Now came the tricky part. “Queen Titania.” She glanced at Delphina hoping the Fae would back her story. “She meant for Merlin and Delphina to help me on this quest.”

  Everyone remained silent. Aliana chewed the inside of her cheek trying not to combust in the silence. “Someone please say something.” Her stomach twisted tighter. Would they throw her out now?

  “Why Merlin and Delphina?” Gawain finally asked, sending a dark look at the Druid.

  It was Delphina who answered. “Because I know a little of the Grail’s history.”

  Merlin jumped in. “And I owe the queen a favor. My helping Aliana is payment.”

  Aliana stared at him. I didn’t know that. Damn mysterious Druid!

  The guys all exchanged heavy looks, the jubilation from the games all but gone.

  “Do you know what it is you seek?” Sophvira asked, speaking for the first time.

  “A map. A magical one.”

  Before anyone could ask any more, the tent opened.

  Clara blushed furiously before bowing low. “Forgive me, sire.”

  “What is it, Clara?” Arthur asked as the tension eased back a little.

  “The queen sent me. She wonders where all her knights are and why they are not preparing for the feast.”

  “We will be there shortly,” Lancelot said, dismissing the girl who took off like a scared cat.

  “We still need to finish this conversation.” Galahad’s voice was as tight as his narrowed eyes.

  “Tomorrow. I’m still not even sure on all the details myself right now.”

  She could see their reluctance, but Guin spoke up for her. “She’s right. We will get nothing accomplished tonight.”

  Arthur agreed. “We finish this first thing in the morning.”

  Aliana ended up being late for the dinner feast. By the time she came through the side door almost everyone was seated. Entertainers flounced around in the middle space left by the long tables that had been set out for the entire court. Arthur was the first to notice her; he raised his golden goblet to her, looking almost relieved. She smiled back and took the open seat between Guinevere and Delphina.

  “Sorry I am late,” she said, trying to pretend like everything was all right.

  “That’s quite all right. You have come just in time.” Delphina took a sip of her wine. “Our evening entertainment is about to start.”

  Aliana filled her plate, glancing at the head table where Galahad and the other knights had gathered and were laughing and drinking together in celebration. Galahad sat on Arthur’s right side, a place of honor, wearing a thick cloak of animal fur. Curious, Aliana asked Vira about the cape, and she said that it was to honor the champion.

  Different entertainers, all dressed in masks and colorful outfits, took turns entrancing the audience. One spit flames of fire with the help of the wine sack in his hand. Two others had knives and daggers of different lengths, all very sharp, as they demonstrated with flamboyant flare, and juggled them between each other. The last one was an archer who performed feats with his long bow and arrows. He would throw things in the air and pierce them with his arrow, or he would have each of the previous performers stand with fruit on their heads and shoot them off one by one. In a way he reminded Aliana of J’alel. They looked nothing alike, but their presence was similar.

  It was an evening full of loud celebration. The knights all relaxed, the unattached ones flirting outrageously with the available women at the feast. At one point Aliana was sure she saw Gawain sitting with two ladies in his lap. Even Owaine and Leyon were swarmed with female company. Galahad had a throng of admirers swarming him and Arthur. Both men politely kept sending them away. At one point Sophvira even came up and helped get rid of the more stubborn women before she went off with some friends.

  Aliana moved to join the teen, to try to talk to her. She wanted to know how she was holding up with the revelation she had just learned. Aliana’s brows pinched together as she looked around the room. It was a few minutes before she saw Vira, in her pale blue dress and long braided hair, duck out another side door with a guy just taller than her with white blond hair and a familiar presence.

  Puck!

  Aliana pushed her way through the crowd, following the white blond hair. She lost sight of them when they slipped out of one of the side doors. She kept following, recognizing the hall that led to the queen’s rooms. It deadened. There was no sign of Vira or Puck.

  “You saw him too, right?” She looked around.

  “Yes, I felt his presence. Just as I did after we first arrived here in Camelot.”

  “You never told me that!”

  She felt his frustration. “I never actually saw him, just felt his magic. Though I feel no trace of it now. Or Sophvira.”

  Aliana ran a hand through her curled hair. She may not totally understand or like the half Imp, but she felt certain he wasn’t a danger to Vira. One thing for sure, she was going to have one heck of a conversation with Vira tomorrow about it.

  A warm hand fell on her shoulder. Aliana looked over her shoulder into Arthur’s liquid gold eyes. “Why are you out here? Is everything all right?”

  She tuned. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk to Sophvira, but I must have taken a wrong turn or something and lost her after she left the party.”

  Arthur grinned. “She normally leaves these parties early. I’m sure she’s up in her room.”

  Al
iana wanted to go check to be sure, but if Arthur wasn’t worried…

  “Is your Dragon guardian with you right now?”

  Aliana nodded pushing up her sleeve as Dagg took his true form.

  “I would like a private moment with Lady Aliana, DragonLord.”

  “I’ll be in our room. I will go through the books some more.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be there after this.”

  He shook his head. “You deserve a night of fun. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

  Surprise filled her as Dagg flew out a window.

  “You two can communicate with your minds?” Arthur’s question was more of a statement.

  She shrugged. “It comes in handy.”

  “So we have discovered.” His eyes darkened, remembering her attempted kidnapping. He quickly shook off the thought. “Are you returning to the feast?”

  “I shouldn’t. I still need to try to learn more about finding the Grail’s map.”

  “You don’t have to do this alone.”

  “I know,” she said with a small smile. “I’ve got Dagg and Merlin and Delphina.”

  Arthur shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  She knew what he had meant but she still feared him and the others getting involved too much. The more they knew the more she’d have to hide. The fact they had yet to turn her away or get upset with her for keeping all these secrets proved that they trusted and even cared for her. Sadly it only made her miss her knights, friends and home even more.

  Arthur’s finger gently traced down her cheek. “Why do you suddenly look so sad? Is it because you regret me kissing you?”

  “No…I don’t know.” She blinked away the beginning of a tear. “I just remembered how much I miss my home.” And she missed having her Arthur to confide in. Her homesickness made her curious if this was what Arthur had felt since she had awoken him in Avalon.

  The king tensed, his golden eyes filling with cautious alertness. “Are you unhappy here?”