by T J Mayhew
At first, Logan’s face registered surprise but this quickly turned to anger as he glared at Cai and marched on ahead.
Cai reached out to stop him. “Logan, I’m…”
Logan shook him off. “No, it’s fine; I get it. You don’t want to talk.”
Unfortunately, at that very moment, Cai’s attention was drawn to a familiar figure making her way towards them, across the Lower Courtyard.
Logan followed his gaze and scoffed bitterly. “Well, at least, not to me.” And with that, he stormed off, handing Girl’s reins to a waiting stable hand.
Cai groaned exasperatedly. “Logan, wait…” But Logan didn’t wait; he didn’t even look around. “Where are you going?”
“What do you care?” Logan called back over his shoulder as he strode across the Lower Courtyard, forcing Aelwen to step aside as he passed.
Aelwen watched him go before approaching Cai. “What was that all about?”
Cai shook his head. “Nothing; just Logan being… Logan,” he finished lamely.
Aelwen smiled and Cai found it easy to return. Beside him, Rei whinnied and nuzzled Aelwen’s shoulder for attention. Reaching up, she petted the beast, all the while, whispering quietly to her.
“What’s her name?” she asked quietly, never taking her eyes from Rei.
“Rei,” Cai replied. “She’s a descendent of my father’s horse,” he added, watching her and marvelling at how natural she seemed to be with the animal; so different from his own introduction to Rei. After a moment, Rei snorted and shook her head. “I should be getting her back,” Cai muttered, suddenly self-conscious.
“I’ll come with you,” Aelwen offered, before collecting herself. “If that’s alright,” she added hesitantly. “I mean, you probably have things you need to do…”
“No,” Cai interrupted, eagerly; a little too eagerly, in fact. “No, I’d like that,” he said, calmer now. He smiled; he hadn’t spent any time with her since returning to Camelot and, he realised now, he really wanted to get to know her better.
After returning Rei to the stables, and making sure she was settled for the night, they made their way to the Upper Courtyard, which, thanks to the hard work of the servants and anyone unable to fight, was on its way to being restored to what it once was. Cai couldn’t help the pride he felt as he looked over the courtyard knowing that this had only been possible because everyone had pulled together.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Aelwen’s voice broke in.
He looked at her. “About what?”
Aelwen fixed him with a look. “About…” She glanced around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard and, lowering her voice, continued, “About whatever happened between you and Logan.” She paused before adding pointedly, “…about your mother.”
Cai held her gaze for a moment and, seeing nothing but genuine concern in her eyes, finally acknowledged that he needed to talk; he needed to confide in someone. Aware they were not alone, he indicated for her to follow him as he led the way to a quiet corner of the courtyard in the shadow of the Great Hall, where they could talk in private.
Aelwen turned to face him, patiently waiting for him to begin.
Dropping his head, Cai began to focus on his bracelet as he organised his thoughts.
“It’s natural to feel scared, Cai,” Aelwen said quietly, placing a reassuring hand on his arm.
And, just like that, the dam inside Cai broke and he was crying; all the pain and terror he had experienced lately came crashing down on him and he could no longer hold it back. He quickly wiped away his tears in a vain attempt to make them disappear but stopped as he felt Aelwen’s grip tighten, showing her support the only way she knew how.
Cai had no idea how long they stayed like that but, eventually, his tears subsided and, collecting all his strength, he looked at Aelwen, seeing nothing but sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to…”
She shook her head. “No, don’t be sorry,” she insisted fiercely. She pulled her hand back from his arm, Cai immediately missing her touch. “I’ve watched you these past few days, Cai,” she admitted quietly, avoiding his gaze. With this admission out of the way, she looked at him accusingly. “You’ve buried yourself in your training, you’ve not allowed yourself to accept what’s happened.”
Cai frowned. “I’ll never accept it,” he declared defiantly. “Merlin and my mother will return; I’ll make sure of it.”
“I didn’t mean…” She sighed exasperatedly and rubbed her forehead. “I only meant that there is only so much time you can carry on, without letting yourself really feel the pain you’re in.” She paused and her eyes dropped. “You taught me that,” she added quietly.
Cai stared at her. “I’m scared,” he confided. “I’m scared that we won’t find Merlin in time and that, without him, this war is lost and my mother…” He sniffed, but forced himself to go on. “I’m terrified I won’t be able to save her; that Mordred will kill her... I’m scared she may already be dead.”
Aelwen’s gaze hardened, all trace of sympathy now gone. “You can’t think like that, Cai; you have to know that she’s alive, that she’s still fighting.” She paused, allowing her words to sink in. “It was the same for me that night…” She met Cai’s gaze. “I had to believe that my father was still alive; after my mother… that was all that kept me going.”
“But…” Cai started to protest.
“It’s not easy, I know,” Aelwen stated flatly. “But you can do it, Cai; you have to, otherwise you should just surrender now because you’ll be no good to her, Merlin or your people.”
Cai sat in silence, her words slowly hitting their mark.
“She’s stronger than you think, Cai,” Aelwen continued. “She was King Arthur’s wife; his queen… she has had to be strong.”
Cai nodded, knowing she was right; she was strong and he needed to give her credit for that. After all, she had lived through Mordred’s betrayal, had lost her husband and her child but she had remained courageous throughout, never wavering, never surrendering, never giving up. And she wouldn’t give up now.
And neither would he; he owed it to her to keep fighting.
“Thank you,” he said.
Aelwen smiled. “You’re welcome.”
They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the silence between them suddenly charged. But before either could say more, the doors of the hall crashed open and Badden appeared, relief washing over him at the sight of his daughter.
“There you are!” he cried. He stopped as he saw Cai and bowed. “Forgive me, my Lord, I was just…” He glanced between his daughter and Cai for a moment, saying nothing.
Cai stood up. “It’s OK, Badden.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It is late… I should…” He turned to Aelwen and smiled, suddenly self-conscious in Badden’s presence. “Goodnight, Aelwen,” he said. “Badden,” he added hesitantly.
“Goodnight, Cai,” Aelwen said.
Badden bowed. “My Lord.”
Cai spared him a quick nod before hurrying away, acutely aware of Aelwen watching him. Once out of her sight, he sighed. The last half an hour had drained him and his already exhausted body wanted to collapse onto his bed and sleep; the stress of the last few days were clearly taking their toll.
On entering his quarters, he noticed Logan’s bed was empty but he didn’t spare him much thought as he sat on his own bed; it wasn’t that late and Logan was more than capable of looking after himself. Besides, he was within Camelot’s walls so the chance of him being in any danger was slim.
Cai wasn’t aware of how much time had passed but on hearing movement outside, he looked up to see Logan enter, looking sheepish.
“Sorry about earlier,” he muttered as he sat on his bed. “I guess I’m just… stressed.”
Cai glanced at him, smiling wryly. “Aren’t we all?”
Logan watched him carefully. “Yeah… I guess we are.”
Cai glanced at Logan, uncomfortable under his inten
se gaze, but before Cai could say anything, he laid down on his bed, his back to him.
Cai watched Logan for a moment longer, wondering if, despite his apology, he still held a grudge about their earlier argument. But, on hearing Logan snore, he knew the time for conversation had passed.
Laying down on his own bed, Cai spent the next few hours thinking about everything that had happened that day and it wasn’t long before his thoughts drifted to Aelwen; he heard her voice telling him what he needed to hear, pulling no punches, and was glad to be able to call her his friend.
39
Nimue was playing with fire, she was certain of it.
“And you are certain no one knows?” Morgan demanded.
Across the miles, she felt Nimue bristle; she knew the implication of her words would infuriate her student but she had to be sure, she had to know Nimue had not been careless. As expected, Nimue went on the defensive.
“Of course I’m sure!” she hissed. “No one at Camelot knows of this location. No one but Merlin and I; we were always very careful about that.”
Morgan paused, feeling, through their shared connection, the disdain Nimue felt for the man she now held captive. It was overpowering, overshadowing every other emotion and one Morgan identified with.
Just as he had been with Nimue, Merlin had always been there, a thorn in Morgan’s side, one she had been determined to remove. Even when she had returned to Camelot all those years ago, he had been there, watching her, waiting for her to make a mistake... But, he hadn’t beaten her; she had gone on to succeed in her plan and she was now free of those that had betrayed her.
And she would succeed with this plan, too; recruiting Nimue had merely been the first step. It had not been difficult; appealing to her fascination of the Dark had been all too easy and it hadn’t been hard to tempt her… a few promises here and there, and she had been only too willing to turn her back on whatever Merlin had to offer. Learning of the sorcerer’s feelings for his student was just an added bonus, giving her the perfect opportunity to help bring about his downfall.
She smiled at the thought.
Now, Merlin had been weakened and, it didn’t matter how it had come about; soon everything else would follow. But she feared that, in giving Nimue so much power, she now ran the risk of waiting too long; Nimue was playing with fire by keeping Merlin in limbo. She needed to understand that Merlin must not be underestimated.
“You need to dispatch him, and quickly,” Morgan instructed.
“Do I tell you what to do with your prisoners?” Nimue retaliated.
Morgan’s temper flared at these words but she quickly regained control. “I have it on good authority that they search for you,” she informed her, awaiting her reaction.
“You are still in communication with Camelot?” Nimue asked.
Morgan smiled to herself. “Of course; it pays to know exactly what our enemy is thinking, what they are planning.”
There was a brief pause before Nimue continued. “They can search, but they will never find us.”
Morgan heard the absolute certainty in her voice, but there was something else, something hidden behind her conviction that Nimue was taking great care not to reveal; of course, she failed to keep it from her.
Morgan still detected it.
Doubt.
So there was something… something Nimue wasn’t telling her. But Morgan knew better than to reveal she knew the truth; in her experience, it was always better to watch and wait. To let events play out, before reacting.
So, instead, she said, “I hope you are right, Nimue, because if not…”
Morgan left the warning unfinished as she pulled her consciousness away from the conversation. She knew Nimue would read between the lines; they both knew what was at stake and what failure would mean.
As her senses returned to her, the doors to the hall crashed open, the sound resonating through the room. Morgan opened her eyes just as Mordred stalked in, his posture belying his growing tension and frustration. Morgan watched as he paced up and down, waiting for him to speak.
She didn’t have to wait long.
“She still refuses to yield to me,” he spat angrily.
“Did you really expect her to?” she questioned, unable to keep the amusement from her voice. If he had expected Guinevere’s acceptance, then he was deluded. “You killed her husband and want her son dead; hardly the act of a betrothed.”
Mordred glared at her, clearly not appreciating her honesty. “I thought you wanted this just as much as I did.”
Morgan rose, slowly approaching her son. “I do,” she assured him. “But, my son, you can not be that naïve, thinking she would bend to your will with so little fight…”
Mordred scowled at his mother’s words, clearly frustrated with the whole situation. Changing the subject, he asked, “Well, what did you find out from Nimue?”
Morgan turned her back to him, crossing the room to the window. Studying the darkness, she said, “She still insists Camelot will never find her.”
There was a moment of silence in which Morgan was aware of Mordred watching her intently, awaiting her reaction. When it was not forthcoming, he said, “And do we trust her judgement on the matter?”
She slowly turned to face her son. “What do you think?”
Nimue felt the loss of Morgan’s presence in her mind immediately, as she sat back on her haunches, relieved to be in full possession of her senses once more. It was always disconcerting to have the sorceress in her head, now, more than ever, and it had taken all of her strength to hide her doubts from Morgan.
Her gaze settled on the cave, his prison, and she suddenly felt her fury flare.
Something was happening, she knew it… felt it.
He was doing something, trying to trick her… he thought her foolish, ignorant of the truth… the truth of what was happening right before her eyes. But he was wrong and, in his weakened state, he would soon make a mistake.
And, when he did, she would be waiting…
I always knew I would need to do more.
Nothing I have done so far has been enough but it has allowed me time, time to regain my strength, to plan. Now, I know what I must do.
I have waited, biding my time, until this moment, when the power once again flows through my veins; I feel it now and it feels good.
I know she is aware of me, she suspects, but she doesn’t know how far I have come, how close I am to taking back control. She still thinks me weak and, therein, is my advantage.
Soon, Camelot will know where I am.
Harnessing my power, I release it, projecting it from me, out of the cave… towards my goal.
Somewhere nearby, I hear her scream in rage.
I smile…
40
It had been nearly a week since Mordred’s attack and with each passing day, Cai grew more frustrated. Galahad had found nothing of use in the book and there was still no news about Nimue and Merlin. In desperation Cai had recruited Bedivere to search Merlin’s chamber in the hope of finding something, anything that would give them some clue as to his whereabouts.
But there was nothing.
It was as if Merlin and Nimue had disappeared from the face of the Earth.
Every day saw Cai immersing himself more and more in his training, the one area of his life in which he felt he had some semblance of control. He had quickly adjusted to his new sword, although he still missed Excalibur.
After their conversation the day before, Cai found himself spending more time with Aelwen who regularly sought him out after training sessions; it seemed that, whatever barrier she had initially been trying to put between them, was now no longer an issue and they spent long hours talking and confiding in each other.
This sudden change had not gone unnoticed by Logan, who began to mercilessly tease him about Aelwen’s sudden interest in him. For his part, Cai tried to keep Logan and Aelwen apart, for no other reason than, if she overheard any of Logan’s so-called ‘jokes’, she might
start to pull away from him again. Cai didn’t think he could cope if that happened; right now, she was one of the few things going right in his life and to lose her, too, would be unbearable.
There was only one fly in the ointment in their new friendship: Badden. Working alongside him meant that he was always around when Aelwen appeared at the end of each training session and the looks he sent Cai’s way when he saw them together, unsettled him. The awkward moment all three had shared outside the Great Hall a few days ago still weighed heavily on his mind and Logan’s comments did nothing to help ease the tension; the last thing he wanted was for Badden to think badly of him, especially when he had done nothing wrong.
When Cai had tried to broach the subject with Aelwen, she brushed it off, pointing out they had nothing to hide, they were just friends. But Cai couldn’t shake the feeling that each passing day brought the inevitable moment closer, when Badden would finally say something to him.
That moment eventually came when, during one of the few breaks in their training, Badden approached him.
He and Logan were sitting together when Logan nudged him. “Uh oh, it’s your girlfriend’s father come to string you up,” he quipped.
Cai glared at him. “She is not…” He sighed, shaking his head exasperatedly. “You know what? Just forget it.” He knew Logan well enough to know that no matter how much he protested, it wouldn’t stop him making stupid comments, trying to wind him up. And, if he was honest, it made him feel normal.
Both boys fell silent as Badden approached. “My Lord,” he began, glancing awkwardly at Logan. “May I speak with you?”
Immediately, hearing the anxiety in his voice, Cai began to worry; although Badden was often quiet and reserved, Cai had spent enough time with the man to know he was never anxious. An inexplicable fear gripped Cai at that moment; was something wrong with Aelwen?
“Is Aelwen alright?” he asked, concerned.
Badden waved away his fears. “She is well, my Lord.” He paused, looking decidedly awkward. “It is you I wish to speak to, my Lord…” he said. He glanced at Logan before adding, “It is a private matter.”