The Prison Of Ice & Shadows (Prophecies Of Fate Book 2)

by T J Mayhew

  Reacting solely on instinct and adrenaline, Cai ran to join them but his arms were grabbed roughly by Kay who thrust him backwards into Logan.

  “Find somewhere to hide,” he ordered.

  Logan looked horrified at the idea of missing out on the battle. “What? No way!”

  “Do it!” Kay growled. “You must keep him safe!” he instructed, nodding towards Cai.

  Cai stared at the knight; his eyes were bright, hungry for battle, but there was something else there too: Fear? Desperation? Concern?

  “Do you understand?” Kay demanded, urgently; whatever emotions Cai had thought he’d seen had disappeared in an instant.

  Logan nodded reluctantly.

  Cai stared after Kay as he turned and ran towards the fray. “But…!”

  Logan grabbed Cai’s arm and pulled. “Come on, Cai!”

  Together, they ran towards the nearest copse of trees.

  Once under the cover of branches, Cai pulled away from Logan’s vice-like grip. “We can’t just leave them to fight...” he protested.

  “We’re not going to,” Logan muttered mysteriously as he began to sprint through the trees.

  “What...?” Cai asked, racing after him.

  Logan glanced back over his shoulder as he continued to lead the way. “Oh what, are you scared now?” he taunted, grinning. “Come on, you’ve gone up against them before and lived to tell the tale!” he pointed out. “Don’t you want to prove Kay wrong after what he just said? Let’s show him we can do this!”

  Logan’s words struck a chord somewhere deep inside Cai; he was sick and tired of Kay writing him off. And Logan was right; he had gone up against them before and, if he did fight, if he went into this battle and proved what he could really do… maybe Kay would, finally, get off his back. But as Cai had looked at Logan, he had seen a dangerous glint in his eyes, a look he had never seen before, and he couldn’t help wondering if this was about more than just proving Kay wrong.

  “It’s what we’ve been training for,” Logan enthused. “Otherwise, what was the point of all those early morning sessions? What’s the point of us even being here?” He gestured ahead towards the fighting where the clash of swords and shouts of men were almost deafening. “They can’t just push us aside when it suits them and then moan that we can’t handle this. If we prove ourselves now...”

  Cai had never heard Logan speak of the knights with such resentment before and, for the first time, realised he wasn’t the only one feeling frustrated. “Alright, alright!” he muttered as he quickly ducked under a low-hanging branch. If they were going to do this, if they were going to defy Kay, he wanted all his attention on the matter in hand.

  “Cool!” Logan said as he clapped him on the back and smiled. “We can do this, Cai; I know we can!”

  As Logan picked up his pace once more, Cai couldn’t ignore the fear that rose within him as doubt started to creep in. Kay had already made it perfectly clear that none of their practise sessions had prepared them for this kind of onslaught and, despite his bravado, Cai wasn’t sure they were ready; the battle at the lake had already proved that.

  No, I have to stop thinking like this… he told himself; doubt had no place in battle and he couldn’t let it take over now.

  Suddenly, he was yanked backwards, as Logan crouched down in the undergrowth; he put a finger to his lips and indicated the clearing on the other side of the trees. Kneeling beside him, Cai followed his gaze and saw two of the black knights taking on one of Cai’s men; as he watched, he recognised Bran, his face strained with battle. The fight was fast paced and Cai was unable to tell who was winning, as all three men were covered in blood but still going strong.

  Logan indicated they should move closer and Cai followed him.

  “After three,” Logan whispered, his eyes fixed on the battle. “One... two...”

  Cai was about to ask him what the plan was, when Logan launched himself out of the trees, into the thick of it. The three men looked at him as though he had just sprouted two heads; that was all the time Logan needed. He swung his sword at the nearest black knight, forcing him backwards, engaging him in battle.

  Without a second thought, Cai ran out of the trees, screaming at the top of his voice and, swinging Excalibur wildly, he was vaguely aware of Bran stepping back in surprise. Aiming a blow at the helmet of the second black knight, Cai forced him into a defensive position, which, momentarily, gave him the upper hand.

  Cai braced himself for the impact as their swords met but, surprisingly, felt nothing as the blades connected. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the sword in his hand but was forced to recover quickly when the knight swung his blade down towards Cai’s head in a swift counter attack. Raising his shield to deflect the blow, Cai instinctively twisted out of the way, bringing Excalibur round to meet the man’s side, the dull clang of sword against chainmail resounding in his ears.

  Surprisingly, the man grunted and fell to his knees; seizing his opportunity, Bran wasted no time in stepping forward and kicking the black knight in the head, before running him though with his sword.

  As he pulled his sword free, Bran glanced at Cai. “Are you injured, my Lord?”

  Cai shook his head briefly before turning his attention to Logan who was still engaged in a frenzied battle with his opponent.

  Running solely on adrenaline, he and Bran now leapt to Logan’s aid, the older knight pushing the black knight away from the teenager. Once his opponent had been forced away, Logan fell to his knees, exhausted. Bran and his opponent traded fierce blows, while Cai looked on, searching for an opening. His mind was now solely focused on the battle and the quickest way to claim victory; unlike before, everything he had been taught was finally falling into place.

  Seeing his chance, Cai circled round to the back of the knight and was about to attack when he suddenly turned and met Excalibur’s blade in mid-air forcing Cai on the back foot. Without hesitation, Bran tackled him from behind and both men landed in a tangled heap on the ground. Cai kicked the knight’s sword away, and, picking it up, threw it into the trees, out of reach.

  Cai looked down at the knight, now trapped under Bran’s weight, as he drove his knee into his back. Bending down, he pulled off his helmet; black straggly hair fell across his face and a scar ran from his left eye, across the bridge of his nose, down the right side of his neck, making it appear as if his face had been cut in two.

  “Who are you?” Cai demanded; his voice sounding far more confident than he felt.

  The black knight spat contemptuously at Cai’s feet but said nothing.

  Bran grabbed a handful of his tangled hair and yanked his head backwards. “Your King asked you a question,” he growled.

  The man gritted his teeth and glared at Cai, breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring.

  Bran held a dagger at the man’s throat. “Tell us or...”

  The black knight laughed bitterly. “You think I’m scared of that? Scared of you?” he sneered. “Nothing you could do to me would be worse than my master’s punishment!”

  Bran chuckled coldly. “We’ll soon see about that,” he promised. The man beneath him gasped as Bran pressed the tip of his dagger to his throat and a thin line of blood trickled down his neck. “Let me be clear: we know ways to make you talk,” he whispered into the man’s ear.

  “Did Mordred send you?” Cai demanded, focusing on getting an answer rather than the possible horror that could unfold as a result of this man’s stubbornness.

  The man looked at him, hatred in his eyes. “You know he did,” he spat. “Who else would it be?”

  Cai wanted to scream with frustration; why was this man making it so hard? He ran his hand through his hair, trying to clear his thoughts and weigh up his options. He glanced at Logan as he approached.

  “Maybe you should just kill him,” Logan suggested, without a second thought, as if the solution was no harder than deciding what to have for breakfast. He glanced at the prisoner. “He doesn’t deserve to live, an
yway,” he sneered.

  Cai shook his head adamantly; he wouldn’t kill an unarmed man in cold blood. Maybe there was a way he could talk to him, make him see that…

  “We shall win this war,” the man declared decisively, struggling against Bran’s weight on his back.

  Cai was glad to see that, despite his injuries, Bran’s grip was still strong.

  “We shall win,” the man growled again, glaring furiously at Cai. “And you shall die…”

  The man was silenced as Logan, in one swift movement, backhanded him across the face. “You really need to shut your mouth,” he warned, glaring down at him.

  The man held Logan’s gaze for a moment before grinning, revealing bloodied teeth. “And what are you going to do about it, boy?” He spat blood as his eyes, full of hatred, shot to Cai. “You think you have all the power, don’t you?” he sneered. Looking back to Logan, he added, “Well, maybe it’s time you knew…”

  Suddenly, a strangled cry escaped the man’s lips as his eyes widened and his lifeless head fell forward, blood gushing from a wound in his neck.

  Cai stared in horror as he saw Logan’s dagger embedded to the hilt in the man’s neck, surrounded by a pool of blood. He rounded on Logan, now sitting on the grass, a look of hatred in his eyes as he stared at the man he had just killed, his blood-soaked hands confirming what Cai already knew to be true.

  Grabbing Logan’s arm, Cai forced him round to look at him. “What the hell did you do that for?” he raged. Logan looked at him but said nothing, infuriating Cai even more. “We had him, Logan! We could have…”

  Logan slapped Cai’s hand away, leaping to his feet in one fluid movement. “We could have what, Cai? Talked to him? Made him see he was wrong?” He scoffed. “Don’t be so stupid!” He gestured to the dead man. “He fought for Mordred; he wasn’t about to switch sides and, if you think he was, then you’re more naïve than I thought.” Turning his back on Cai he returned to the body, retrieved his dagger and wiped the blood and gore from the blade in the grass. Without so much as a backwards glance, he stalked off towards the main camp.

  As Cai watched him go, he became aware that the camp was quieter now; a huge sense of relief washed over him as he realised the majority of the fighting had ceased. He looked round as Bran limped over to him, holding his left arm across his body.

  Bran bowed his head. “I shall send someone to collect the bodies later, my Lord,” he said.

  Cai nodded, still numb after everything that had happened. “Thank you, Bran,” he muttered. “Thank you for all that you did,” he added.

  Bran glanced down at himself, smiling wryly. “I fear, had you not made an appearance, I would not be standing here now, my Lord.” He met Cai’s eyes. “I owe you my life,” he acknowledged, bowing his head.

  Cai gestured to his injuries. “You should get those looked at,” he suggested. He moved towards Bran. “If you need help, I can…”

  Bran shook his head proudly. “With respect, my Lord, I shall return to camp unaided.”

  Cai nodded and fell into step beside Bran as they made their way back to camp.

  After a few moments, Bran spoke. “If I might be so bold, my Lord…” Taking Cai’s silence as a sign to continue, he said, “What is done in the heat of battle should not be held against one; the boy’s actions, whilst rash, were not without their merits.” He paused, glancing at Cai. “He did fight for Mordred and, I have no doubt, if given the chance, he would have killed you; perhaps…”

  Cai held up a hand. “With respect, Bran,” he said, repeating Bran’s earlier words. “I don’t wish to talk about this now.” He was in no mood to talk about what Logan had just done.

  Suitably chastised, Bran bowed his head. “Of course, my Lord. Forgive my impertinence.”

  Cai didn’t acknowledge Bran’s apology as his attention was suddenly drawn to the outcome of the battle. Whereas before, the camp had been filled with men relaxing after a hard day’s travel, it was now littered with broken and bloodied bodies, those of their enemies, as well as their own; groans of pain rent the air as injuries were tended to and broken bones immobilised and mended. Those that were still standing were silently sifting through the debris, picking up discarded items and collecting weapons from the dead.

  Cai was sickened at the sight of it.

  “There you are!”

  Cai looked up to see Lancelot bearing down on him, relief and anger evident on his face.

  “Kay told you to get to safety...” Not waiting for a response, Lancelot grabbed Cai by the scruff of his neck and pushed him towards his tent, where Logan was already waiting. “I’ll deal with you in a minute,” he promised before turning to assess Bran’s injuries.

  Before he could even think of moving, a voice to Cai’s left cried out in desperation.

  “Cai! Get down!”

  Cai looked around and saw Kay charging towards him, his eyes fixed on something to Cai’s right. He turned to see a black knight charging towards him, sword raised, his eyes alive with bloodlust, and Cai immediately recognised this for what it was: a final attempt on his life.

  Completely frozen to the spot, Cai could only watch as Kay jumped in front of him, his sword drawn. Both men brought their swords down hard, Kay’s sword making contact first, burying itself in his enemy’s side; he fell to the ground but not before a last desperate swipe of his blade bit into Kay’s left arm.

  And, as the black knight breathed his last, Cai stared helplessly at his uncle as he staggered and fell heavily to the ground, blood pouring from his wounded arm.

  23

  Cai sat in silence at Kay’s bedside as he slept. A thick, blood-stained bandage wrapped around the upper part of his left arm was testament to the injury he had suffered. As Cai stared at it, he was reminded of how much blood had been shed the previous day; too much, in his opinion.

  Whilst Kay was being tended to, Cai had ignored all Logan’s attempts to talk to him; his priority, at that moment, had been Kay and he had immediately sought out his tent and had stayed with him since, waiting for him to wake. He had no idea how much time had passed or even what time of day or night it was; none of that mattered right now.

  He could only think of the sacrifice Kay had been prepared to make for him… It was one thing to hear people say they would give their lives for him but it was something else, entirely, to witness it first-hand.

  As he sat there, Cai’s vision began to swim with unshed tears and his throat tightened; he leant forward resting his head in his hands.

  “Cai…”

  Cai looked up at the sound of Kay’s weak voice and blinked back his tears.

  Kay grimaced as he attempted to sit up.

  “Don’t,” Cai said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You need to rest.”

  Kay looked up at him grinning. “You must love seeing me like this,” he commented wryly with a half-hearted smile.

  Cai averted his gaze guiltily; he couldn’t deny there had once been a time when he would liked to have seen Kay’s suffering, but now…

  “I wouldn’t blame you,” Kay continued. “I have given you a hard time these last few months.”

  Cai met his gaze. “Why did you do it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Kay tried to shrug but grimaced as pain gripped him. After a moment, he said, “Because you needed to know the hardships of this life; you needed to know what was to come. You need to be ready.”

  Cai shook his head. “I meant… Why did you risk your life to save mine?”

  “You know why,” Kay muttered, avoiding his gaze. “You are my King.”

  Cai frowned. “So you’d risk your life for a King you hate?” he asked, bewildered by his response.

  Kay paled visibly at his words. “Hate you?” he echoed, confused. “Is that what you think? That I hate you?” Cai shrugged. Kay propped himself up, wincing as pain shot through his arm. “I don’t hate you,” he insisted quietly.

  “Then why…?”

  “Because, to
accept you, would have meant accepting my brother lied to me; accepting he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me about you.” He looked at Cai. “I know how ridiculous that sounds…”

  Cai shook his head. “No, it doesn’t.” For the first time, Cai understood the root of Kay’s resentment towards him and, although misplaced, it was understandable. “I know what it feels like to have questions that can’t be answered.”

  They sat in silence, both unsure how to continue. Cai was very aware that this was a defining moment in their relationship; whatever was said now would determine how they would progress from here.

  Kay sighed. “When I first learned of you, Cai…” He paused, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to believe it was true; I had already lost so much I cared about… I couldn’t allow myself to suffer like that again.” He glanced guiltily at Cai before continuing. “Lancelot tried so hard to show me how wrong I was but I refused listen… It was my father who finally made me understand.”

  “Your father?” Cai echoed, confused.

  Kay nodded. “When I left Camelot, I returned to the farm where I grew up...” He paused, before adding, “…the home where Arthur and I grew up.”

  Despite himself, Cai felt a longing deep inside him; to know there was still a place besides Camelot that had connections to his father…

  Reading something in Cai’s face, Kay smiled. “One day, when all of this is over, and, if we are both still standing, I will take you there,” he promised. “I know my father would like to meet you; he has many stories to tell. Tales of your father… of me.”

  Cai fought past the emotions threatening to overwhelm him to ask, “Why don’t you bring him to Camelot? Your father, I mean?”

  Kay smiled sadly. “He is old, Cai; too old to be in the midst of such chaos. It is enough for me to know he is safe.”

  Cai nodded and the two sat silently for a moment before Kay spoke again.

  “More than anything else, Cai, you are my nephew,” the knight continued, shocking Cai with the emotion in his voice. “I may not have shown you that at first…” He scoffed. “I didn’t want to,” he admitted quietly. “But I have since come to see how wrong I was.”