“He murdered four innocent people!” shouted a voice that I did not recognize.
“I do not believe these lies,” Arthur’s voice boomed. “Where is your proof, Theol? Do you have witnesses?”
I stopped suddenly in my tracks.
“A woman claims to have seen him passing through.”
“Did she or did she not see this outlandish crime you are accusing him of?”
“Would you be more inclined to believe it if it were some other besides your favorite cousin?” the voice of the man called Theol asked condescendingly.
“He is not his favorite,” Gawain muttered.
I tensed; they must be talking about Brendelon. I knew better than to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help myself. I pressed my body up closer to the wall, craning my neck to hear better.
“I would be more inclined to believe it had you some proof to back your claims! Brendelon would not do such things.”
“Would not do such things?” Theol snorted. “You saw what he did in battle; it took a handful of your best men to even control him. I am not sure why you do not think he is capable of such things!”
“He was in the moment. All of us have been there. Battle brings out the worst in all of us. You cannot hold him to that,” Bedivere said calmly.
“He slaughtered over forty men!” shouted Theol.
My heart dropped. It couldn’t be true.
“We all did!” boomed Gawain. “Hundreds even!”
“Not in the midst of surrendering!” he continued, “yet, he hacked them to pieces without a second thought.”
“Do not act like you have never done the same,” Lancelot retorted.
“Yes,” piped in Kay, “it is difficult in battle. You cannot hold one accountable for such things, especially against barbaric Saxons. We all know what they are capable of. These accusations are ridiculous.”
“I have seen no other man behave so and yet receive no punishments for his crimes! You are constantly protecting and pardoning him as if has an excuse to do so,” Theol hissed
“Is that why you are here, Theol? To instill punishment upon my cousin? You had better rethink yourself and choose your words carefully because you are about to cross a line, and I will not be so gracious.”
“I would not expect you to as I am not Sir Brendelon. However, the Saxons are invading the shores! All of Britain is at risk. We have pledged to fight by your side and all my king and brother is asking for is some justice for the lives of those slain in our lands. He wants Brendelon back in his court where he will instill the proper justice for such crimes.”
“If it is true that Britain is at risk of invading Saxons, then I do not think punishing Brendelon for outlandish charges is top priority,” countered Bedivere.
“He is right. I will handle my own men, bring forth evidence and we shall discuss it further, in the mean time the protection of this land is what King Cadvic should be concerning himself with,” Arthur said firmly.
The man huffed. “Of course, however if he does not follow orders, especially during wartime, that makes him a danger to all of us.”
“Enough Theol, I will hear no more of this!”
“I cannot promise fealty from my king brother, if you are a war duke who is incapable of justice.”
“Then Cadvic will have to deal with me and the warband of Britain!” Arthur roared. “You forget your place!”
“My apologies Duke,” said Theol with false kindness. “I did not mean to offend, however…”
I wanted to hear more but Chance began whimpering. I tried to shush him, quickly turning to make my escape before being caught for snooping, but I smacked into something hard as I was faced with muscular arms covered in shiny forearm plates, folded across a gray tunic.
My heart picked up speed, half nervous and half excited, as I glanced up already knowing who I would find.
Yep, it was him.
I was thrilled to see him but worried as well, wondering if he had heard all of that too. He lifted his right hand to his mouth, chewing on his thumbnail, while staring at me intently.
I swallowed.
“Do you see me clearly now?” his voice was deep and slow, almost terrifying. He kept the same petrifying stare.
“I’ve always seen you clearly,” I countered.
He huffed out a laugh. “Could you not hear them?” He swept his right hand forward, towards the room. “It is true about the Saxons you know.” He lowered an eyebrow, face full of abhorrence.
“I heard them defend you,” I said carefully.
He rolled his eyes, and for a moment he reminded me of a snobby jock in some movie about high school.
He stepped closer to me, keeping that same intense glare. Then he leaned in so close to ear that my whole neck tingled from the closeness. I felt my knees go wobbly and my heart accelerate at a pace I didn’t think possible.
“I am a heartless murderer,” he whispered slowly. Why did that sound sexy?
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “I—I don’t believe you.”
He leaned back and gave me that malevolent crooked grin, but before he could say another word there was a pounding on the table and someone calling the council to a close.
I jolted out of my stupor and turned to flee from the scene, but he grabbed my arm hard, keeping his grin and forcing me to stay put. “Let them see you.”
“No, please,” I begged, horrified, and looking back and forth between the door and his malicious, yet amused, face.
“If you are to listen upon their conversation, they deserve to know,” he said snidely, keeping his grip. “After all, now you know the war plans.”
Arthur walked out first. His face didn’t change when he saw Brendelon standing there. He averted his eyes to me, looking slightly surprised, but just as quickly, he turned his attention back to his cousin. “Where have you been?” he asked gruffly.
But Brendelon didn’t answer because his wicked eyes were glued onto the shorter, stocky man, with a protruding nose and dark deep set eyes.
“Theol,” Brendelon growled, “you are right to fear me.”
Theol stood straight though he came nowhere near the height of Brendelon. He crossed his arms over his chest, dark eyes tightening.
“I do not fear you, boy,” he growled, “but you are a liability. If you were not cousin to the War Duke you would not be here that is for certain.”
Brendelon’s jaw clenched, his face was terrifying.
“Fools are always quick to put blame on others, Theol.” Arthur said angrily.
“It is you who keeps company with fools, Duke Arthur,” Theol retorted.
Brendelon jolted forward, but Bedivere and Gawain caught his arms before he could attack Theol.
Theol laughed wickedly. “Surprise, surprise, Sir Brendelon cannot control his temper. Did I not warn you of this?” He was speaking to Arthur, but kept those beady eyes on Brendelon. “I would not be surprised if he murders me next!”
Brendelon ground his teeth, shaking Bedivere and Gawain off. I could see he was fighting to stay in control, but it was difficult.
“What I did to the Saxons will be nothing compared to what I will do to you,” Brendelon threatened.
I saw terror flash across Theol’s face, and though he was quick to cover it, Brendelon caught it too and began to smile wickedly.
“You think it is humorous to take the life of so many innocent people?” Theol asked, disgustedly.
“I would hardly call them innocent.”
“You have no love for anybody save yourself!” he hissed.
Brendelon smirked. “Not even myself.”
“You really do not care, do you? You fool! You will be the death of all of us!”
The antagonizing green eyes turned a shade of sinister, but the smile remained. “You think yourself to be so brave with your words, but I doubt you would be so brave without the protection of your friends.” He nodded to the small army that lined up behind Theol.
Theol laughed da
rkly. “As would you,” he retorted nodding at Arthur.
Brendelon folded his arms. “Just you and I then and I shall give you the first hit. In fact, you can choose two of your comrades to help you.”
I heard Kay stifle a laugh, but Arthur gave him a dark look, and he quickly straightened up. “Enough of this,” Arthur commanded. “There will be no fighting within my halls.”
Brendelon shrugged his shoulders, staring at Theol, tempting him to come forward.
“Aye, I shall not disrespect the War Duke,” Theol dripped then his eyes suddenly caught sight of me, and his beady eyes stared right at my chest, and his whole face changed. I lifted Chance up higher trying to block his view, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. He moved closer to Brendelon, extending out his hand in peace. Brendelon’s smile faltered, as the game was coming to an end before it even began, and the disappointment was evident in his eyes. Theol placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to whisper something as his dark beady eyes looked over at me, peering seductively, making my skin crawl.
Suddenly Brendelon’s arm was pulled back and before anyone could stop him his fist smashed in Theol’s face sending him flying backwards. He lurched forward—clearly not finished—but Gawain tackled him from behind.
Theol laughed, holding his bloodied nose as he stood, watching Brendelon thrash about ferociously.
“Enough Bran!” Arthur shouted.
But Brendelon, unable to control himself threw Gawain off his back, roaring. Theol stopped laughing and took a step back, just as shocked as Gawain was by Brendelon’s strength and rage. Kay jumped on to hold him down and now he had both red-haired giants on him but his rage was still stronger as he continued to roar unintelligible things at Theol. Finally, Bedivere jumped in as well, and the three of them were able to keep him pinned to the ground, but he refused to give up, continuing to lash about like a caged animal.
Theol shook his head mockingly. “How are you to be High King, War Duke, when you cannot even control your own men?”
“Enough of that Theol,” Arthur said in an unfazed tone, but his face was stone cold and angry.
“Always saving his skin,” Theol muttered before signaling his men to attend to his side. “Mark my words, your cousin will be the death of you,” he warned with a smile. “Most gracious appreciation for your hospitality, but I think my men and I will find more comfort lodging in the village.” He turned away abruptly. “The Saxons are coming. You need the alliance of the other kings, and we need the guidance of a strong leader,” he muttered loud enough for all to hear, as he walked away.
Brendelon finally gained some control of himself, and Gawain and Kay pulled him to his feet holding him by the arms, caution upon their faces as though they still did not trust his actions.
Arthur took two long strides, coming face to face with him, arms crossed over his chest. “Explain yourself.” He kept calm but I could tell he was on the verge of exploding. “What is the meaning of this?’
The green eyes flickered in my direction, but he quickly looked down to the ground. “It … it is nothing.”
“Nothing? You make us all look to be fools and it is nothing?” he spat. “You need to learn how to follow orders!” he roared. He was angry, really angry. “Where have you been?” he asked again.
He looked up at him with burning eyes. “I am not a prisoner here, Bear. I can leave when I please.”
Arthur clenched his teeth. “I never said you were a prisoner here.” He was clearly fighting to stay calm. “But you need to inform me of where you go.”
“I control my own decisions,” he muttered.
“Aye, you control yourself wonderfully!” he yelled angrily.
Brendelon put his hand to his hair, gripping the curl that I was now convinced was not natural but created by this nervous gesture. He dropped his hand to his side, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I—I left to clear my head,” he said finally.
Arthur sighed, pushing his short blonde hair to the side with the palm of his hand, as he kept his disconcerted blue eyes on the ground. He took deep breaths, trying to calm down, looking very much like his cousin. Finally, he placed a hand on Brendelon’s shoulder—ice meeting coal—and gave a weak and clearly forced smile, then turned on his heel and walked back into the meeting room shutting the door behind him.
Gawain and Kay shook their heads, still gripping Brendelon’s arms, but he finally shook them off as Bedivere turned on his right foot—now standing in front of him with his arms crossed. Kay and Gawain moved to his sides, surrounding Brendelon in a half circle. He carefully moved his gaze to each one of them as his face contorted like a confined animal about to attack.
“Artos might let you off that easily but you better explain yourself to us,” Bedivere demanded. “I know you are hiding something.” His face was as hard as steel, clearly not afraid of the wrath of the raven.
Brendelon stepped forward and shoved him to the side, but Bedivere grabbed his arm roughly and pushed him back. Brendelon looked down at the grip. “Release my arm, Bedivere,” he said quietly, but the threat was clear.
Bedivere squeezed his hold. “I know you know something.” He dropped his hold, glancing to his left and right at Gawain and Kay. “We all do.” But they both looked clueless. “We cannot help you if you do not tell us what is happening.”
I saw Brendelon’s eyes flashing, and I could feel the tension of him about to snap. I prayed Bedivere would just drop it before they were all sorry.
“Nobody asked for your help,” he said darkly.
“Well, I suppose we do not work they way you do,” Gawain cut in, clearly offended. He crossed his arms. “We see ourselves as family, helping each other out, staying together and all.”
“Aye, two are better than one, for if either of them falls down; one can help the other up. But pity the one who falls and has no one to help him.” Bedivere quoted a verse I recalled from the Bible.
Brendelon rolled his eyes. “I care nothing for those words, Bedivere.”
Kay put a hand up a calming hand. “Bran, just tell us. We want to help you. You are our brother. We care about you.” His face was sympathetic.
He wouldn’t make eye contact; he only lowered his gaze, keeping it barely above ground level. “I—” He sighed and shifted on his foot. “Sorry Kay, I know nothing.”
Gawain huffed out a breath, as he threw his arms in the air. “Fine, you stubborn …” He stormed away, grunting obscenities.
Kay gave Brendelon a rueful look. “I will speak with him,” he promised before hobbling after Gawain.
“Look Bedivere,” Brendelon said, putting a hand up to his hair, “I do not need you scolding me.”
Bedivere snorted. “You certainly need someone to scold you. The more you keep us in the dark, the greater danger you put us in. All of us.”
Brendelon kept his face stone, refusing to look at his friend in the eye. “Are you done?” he muttered.
Bedivere blew out a long breath, holding his hands up in defeat as he turned and walked away.
Chapter Thirteen: Not Alone
“You are cousins,” the old man stated.
“Cousins?” Arthur choked out, with an expression he was certain mirrored his own.
“Aye, you are the son of Uther Pendragon, and you are the rightful heir to the throne of Britain.”
The boy burrowed his eyebrows together, clutching the chunk of hair above his ear, trying to formulate the words in his head… son of Uther? And though he was angry at being deceived for so long, he also felt a strange relief. He was not the heir that they had been whispering of, and the weight that lifted off his shoulders was surprising.
Arthur shook his head. “I—I do not understand. Why was this kept from me?” The blue eyes looked at him once again. “Why was it kept from both of us?” he demanded, turning back to the old man.
“It was important to keep you safe until you were old enough to rule as High King. The time has finally come and when you pull Excalibur fro
m the stone at the Christ Mass all the kings and lords of the land will see the truth.” Then for the first time, the old man turned to face the boy. “And you will be his greatest protector,” he said proudly. “If you two stand together, you will never be alone.”
He stared blankly for a moment. He had been feeling sorry for Arthur; to be king was responsibility that only resulted in heavy shackles, not one he would wish upon anyone, especially one at only fifteen summers, but he could not help the curl of his lips that began to form because being a protector was an adventure without the price of chains. He would have quests and battles but most of all with his cousin as king, he would be free to do as he pleased and he liked that.
The older man turned back to the stunned face of his cousin. “Having your cousin standing by your side will soften the blow for many of these men. They already know him to be the nephew of Uther and Aurelius; your resemblance alone will help. Much conflict will come your way, even after they see you pull the sword. You must learn how to harden your heart without losing who you are deep inside.”
“I—I am not sure I am ready,” Arthur stammered pacing the room, gripping the back of his neck. And once again, the boy found himself thankful that the tedious task of king did not befall to him. Aye, for the first time in his life fortune had favored him over his faultless cousin.
“You are ready, you have been ready since birth, look inside your heart and you will know it to be true. You will bring the light to this dark time.”
Arthur blinked and nodded his head. “I feel it Merlin,” he said quietly then he turned his face back to the boy, seemingly unsure. “We stand together, aye?” he asked.
He grinned at his cousin’s unusual apprehensive eyes; it was not like him to be unsure. “Always,” he reassured him, and he meant it because for half his life, his cousin had been the one to stand by him, and now it was his turn to repay the debt; his cousin was deserving of it, and for the first time ever… he knew right where he was meant to be.
Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) Page 18