Believe

by Victoria Alexander

  Galahad strode toward his horse, decision firm in his mind. No quest on earth, save the simplest task, could be survived, let alone accomplished, with a woman along. Regardless of the magician’s plans, surely Galahad could convince Tessa of the dangers of such a ridiculous notion. She had a keen mind and could not fail to see the logic of his argument.

  Indeed, he pulled himself into the saddle, Merlin himself could not argue with Galahad’s reasoning. Besides, as much as he wished to better know the infuriating lady and explore the enchantment she held for him, he would not be at Camelot for long.

  ‘Twas past time to beg the king’s permission for the one adventure he’d longed for all his days. For one reason or other he’d missed his chance, time and again. He suspected his father and Arthur had long conspired to keep him from the attempt. Misplaced concern for his safety, no doubt. Few knights ever returned, not because they had succeeded but because their lives had been lost with their quest. Those that did come back lived in the shadow of failure.

  Galahad would not fail. He knew it in his bones, in his soul. It was he, and he alone, who would find the Grail and thus become its guardian. He did not know precisely what that role entailed but he was prepared. Whatever the cost, ’twould be well worth it. He snapped the reins and the horse started toward Camelot.

  And should Arthur refuse? The thought pulled him up short and he stared without seeing at a point far beyond the forest surrounding him. He had not considered the king’s refusal. To defy the king was treason, punishable by death. But more, he’d sworn an oath to Arthur as his liege lord and shirking his vow of obedience to his king would be the highest breech of a man’s honor and duty.

  And what of my duty to myself? Galahad straightened, resolve raising his chin. There was no choice. This was the path he was meant to tread. He knew nothing in his life so much as he knew this. And no one—not his king nor his father nor a wizard, not even a damsel with golden hair and velvet eyes—could dissuade him from fulfilling his destiny.

  It was time and he was Galahad, a knight of the realm. He would seek the prize that all men sought for the glory of his king and his country and his soul.

  “’Tis not to your liking, my lady?” The maid’s pretty brow furrowed with concern.

  “It’s fine. Thanks.” Tessa nodded at the platter of bread and cheese and restlessly paced the width of the room Galahad had abandoned her in.

  “You have not taken but a morsel.”

  “I’m not nearly as hungry as I thought I was.” It was a blatant lie. Tessa felt like she hadn’t eaten in years. Hah. Of course, it hadn’t been years, it had been centuries. Still, every time she tried to take a bite, she’d think of pasteurization, not developed yet, refrigeration, not invented yet, and germs, not discovered yet. Who knew what kind of disgusting microbes were flitting around on this stuff?

  “You can scarce get your strength back without food.” Oriana sniffed. “Sir Galahad left strict orders that you should eat.” Her mouth set in a firm, no-nonsense line. A pretty girl with light brown hair and amber eyes, she couldn’t be much more than sixteen but she had the unmistakable air of a drill sergeant.

  “Okay. You’re right. I’m not going to be able to deal with any of this if I’m hungry. This is not the best time for a diet.” Tessa stepped to the wooden table that bore her questionable meal, tore off a small piece of bread and gestured with it at Oriana. “I’ll just think of this as all-natural health food. Very trendy.” She took a bite.

  “Trendy?”

  “Um-hum.” Tessa chewed and swallowed. A little dry, a bit tough but palatable. “Trendy. Hot. Popular. The thing to do.”

  Oriana pulled her brows together. “Your speech is most curious.”

  “Believe me, if you want curious, you should try it from this side of the conversation.” Tessa eyed the cheese. Pale and crumbly, it didn’t look at all appetizing but it wouldn’t kill her. Probably. She broke off a chunk and took a tentative bite. “Not bad.” She studied the cheese. “Kind of like…feta.” She stared for a long moment. This was the final straw. The other shoe. The last piece of the puzzle. Her stomach twisted.

  “My lady? Is something amiss?”

  “Yes. No. I guess not.” Tessa brushed her hair away from her face. “I just realized people who are unconscious or in comas or whatever probably don’t get hungry. They’re fed through IVs, with plenty of vitamins and minerals and protein and stuff. I’m still not totally convinced but—damn.” She waved the cheese. “This must be real. You’re real.” She gestured at the walls. “All of it is real.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Oriana’s eyes widened and she backed up, inching toward the door.

  “Oh, knock it off.” Tessa sighed with exasperation. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re the least of my problems.” She popped the last bite in her mouth, surprised she was as calm as she was. “I suppose I knew it all along, you know, I just didn’t want to admit it. I really hoped this would turn out to be a weird dream.” She shook her head. “I should have known food would bring me around. What am I supposed to do now?”

  Oriana took another backward step toward the door. “I know not, my lady.”

  “Would you stop that?” Tessa said sharply. “I promise not to bite.”

  Oriana clapped her hand over her mouth in terror.

  “It’s just an expression.”

  “But did not the wizard conjure you up in the chapel? ’Twas what I heard.” The girl’s curiosity shone through her fear.

  Tessa groaned. “Hardly. He simply provided the transportation. A Middle Ages beam me up, Scotty kind of thing.” She pulled a steadying breath. “Honestly, I’m harmless. And I’m sorry I scared you. I’m a little tense right now.”

  Oriana cast her a cautious stare then nodded, mollified by the apology.

  “Great. Maybe you can help me think of some way out of this mess.” She smiled. “And I could use a friend.”

  “I could be your friend,” Oriana said slowly, “if indeed you do not bite.”

  Tessa laughed and traced a cross over her heart. “No problem, sweetie. Now.” Tessa strode back and forth across the stone floor of the chamber, shaking her hands absently in front of her and staring straight ahead. “I can’t just sit around here waiting. I have to figure out what to do next. A plan or something.

  “First of all, let’s face it, I’m stuck here for now. I could probably escape the castle but where would I go? It’s not like H. G. Wells is waiting outside the walls with his time machine.”

  “Time machine?” Oriana narrowed her eyes in confusion.

  Tessa ignored her. “Secondly, Merlin says I’m here for the express purpose of helping Galahad—”

  “Galahad?” Oriana breathed a wistful sigh. “Would that the wizard would command me to help such a knight.”

  Tessa stopped in her tracks. “You like him?”

  Oriana stared with an expression of disbelief. “Only a woman long in her grave would not. He is a fine figure of a man. Strong and healthy and noble with the stars of the heavens shining in his eyes.”

  “Whoa. You do like him.”

  “’Twill do me no good now.” Oriana gazed at her pointedly. “All of the castle, nay the kingdom, knows you are to become his wife.”

  “No way,” Tessa said quickly. “His partner maybe, his cohort in crime possibly but not his wife.”

  “Still, ’twould be a foolish woman indeed who would set her cap for a man so obviously enamored by another.”

  “What do you mean enamored?”

  Oriana cocked her head. “Do you not know?”

  “Know what?”

  Oriana rolled her gaze toward the ceiling and stepped to the stool beside the table. She perched on the edge, stretching out the moment, obviously relishing Tessa’s growing curiosity. “I have seen the look in his eyes when he gazes upon you.”

  Tessa snorted. “Yeah, I’ve seen that look. Lots of men get that look.”

  “No, not that look. ’Tis not lust—”
<
br />   “Could have bet me.”

  “—’tis something else. Something more.” Oriana tapped her finger against her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Did you know, he watched you while you slept?”

  “You’re kidding. That’s kind of creepy.” And kind of nice.

  “Creepy?” Oriana furrowed her brow.

  “Um…yucky. Scary. Weird.”

  “Not at all,” Oriana said stoutly. “I saw him from the door of his rooms, my presence unbeknownst to him. He gazed at you as if you were a riddle he could not answer.”

  “Really? How interesting,” Tessa said casually. “A riddle, huh?”

  “Would that he would stare at me that way.”

  Tessa walked over to the table, her voice matter-of-fact. “So tell me something, Oriana.” She tore off a piece of bread. “Why is it a man as desirable as Galahad isn’t married?”

  “Many have done all in their power to change that. Myself amongst them.” Oriana’s tone was wry. “To no avail.”

  “But he was married once, right?”

  The girl nodded.

  “What happened?”

  “’Tis a sad tale, my lady.” Oriana sighed. “Galahad was wed to the fair Dindrane. Beloved for her beauty and her charms, she was good and kind and all in the land knew he adored the very earth beneath her feet.”

  “What happened?” Tessa was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “She died birthing a babe stillborn. A boy.” Sympathy shone in Oriana’s eyes. “I was naught but a child myself yet I can still recall the sorrow that hung over the castle.” Oriana paused for a moment. “Childbearing is fraught with difficulty. ’Tis not an unusual occurrence for mother and child to perish. But never have I witnessed a love such as that of Galahad for Dindrane. He refused to stay where her presence lingered and left the kingdom, traveling the world in service to the king. It was not a year ago that he finally returned.”

  “That explains it,” Tessa said under her breath. “Do you think he’s over her?”

  “I think Galahad is a man with a man’s needs and desires. Needs that neither start nor end in the bedchamber. I think and, I am not alone in the thought, ’tis past time he get on with his life.” Oriana rose to her feet. “A man such as Galahad should not live his days alone. He should have sons, strong and handsome and plentiful to make him proud. And daughters to bring him laughter and joy. And a woman who would gaze upon him with a look in her eye,” she grinned, “as if he were a riddle and she alone held the answer.”

  “I’ve never been good at riddles,” Tessa murmured.

  “Galahad is no more a riddle than any man.”

  “Some things never change.”

  “Hear me well, my lady.” Oriana rested her hands flat on the table and leaned toward Tessa. “I would cheerfully wring your neck like that of a hen’s for roasting to have Galahad look at me as he looked at you. But the very moment I saw him in your presence, I knew my cause was lost. I believe the good knight is perplexed and far more accustomed to recognizing the lust in his loins than the feelings in his heart.”

  “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me.” Tessa shrugged. “I told you: I’m not here to be his wife or anything even remotely like that.”

  Oriana chuckled and straightened. “Your heart is as muddled as your speech if you try to deny what is apparent even to me.” She turned and headed toward the door. “I have other duties to attend to before the return of their majesties.”

  “Arthur and Guinevere?”

  “None other.” She pulled open the door. “Do not forget, Lady Tessa, I have promised to be your friend and I shall do all I can to assist you with your knight.”

  “He’s not my knight.” Tessa frowned. “Anyway, I thought you were interested in him.”

  “Once, but no longer. The years are passing by swiftly and I shall soon be too old for a good match.” Oriana laughed. “But there is a knight with hair the color of wheat and dimples in his cheeks who has cast his eye in my direction. ’Tis past time to encourage such interest. A wise woman knows when all hope is lost and she should direct her affection elsewhere.”

  “That is wise.” Tessa grinned. “How old are you anyway?”

  “I will pass my sixteenth year with the next harvest.” She tossed Tessa a determined smile. “But I will be a bride long before then.” She stepped through the door and pulled it closed with a thud behind her.

  Tessa stared. Oriana was just fifteen but unlike any teenager Tessa had ever met. Of course, here she was considered an adult. What was the life span in the Middle Ages?

  Come to think of it: what year was it anyway? She’d have to remember to ask Galahad.

  She picked up Merlin’s book off the table, walked to the bed and plopped down. She was going to read this thing cover to cover. If there was any possibility of avoiding this medieval treasure hunt, she’d bet it was in this little volume. She leafed through the pages, stopping at the illustration of the Big Guy in the chapel.

  Galahad. So he liked her, did he? A shiver of excitement skated up her spine. She was flattered, of course, who wouldn’t be? Medieval or not, the man was a hunk and intelligent as well. Their verbal sparring was fun and challenging, even if he was too stubborn for his own good and refused to accept basics like gravity and the shape of the world. He probably wouldn’t admit when he was wrong either but she didn’t doubt for a moment his honesty or courage or bravery. He really was a legend come to life. And wasn’t there a definite spark when he’d kissed her or carried her in his massive arms?

  But was he finished grieving for his wife? And not just any old wife but a beautiful, perfect wife? Ten years in this world was a lifetime but was it long enough to get over a true love? Judging from Oriana’s version, that was exactly what it was. True love. A stupid, goofy, sentimental expression in her time, yet here it seemed somehow right.

  Not that she cared, of course. In spite of the heaviness settling in the pit of her stomach she had no desire to mean anything to him. Oh sure, he turned her on a little. And maybe, if she planned on staying here longer, she’d explore the disturbing feelings he stirred in her somewhere between her stomach and her heart. And yeah, the possibility of a brief but wildly passionate fling with him was not a completely disgusting idea.

  But she didn’t care and she didn’t want to. They were from different worlds and there was no future to be had with him. She groaned at how accurate that word really was. Tessa suspected he would not take any relationship lightly and she hated the thought of hurting him. Almost as much as she hated how much she could be hurt. It didn’t take Einstein to see anything between them would be volatile, maybe even fatal. If she let this man into her heart it would be a disaster, plain and simple.

  She flipped back to the beginning of the book and tried to concentrate on anything except a big, handsome knight.

  No, she was here to do a job. Accompany Galahad on his quest. Find the Grail. And get the hell out. Quick and dirty.

  And no one gets hurt.

  Chapter Seven

  “There, Tessa.” Galahad gazed at the distant horizon. “’Tis where my fate lies.”

  “Where?” Tessa tugged impatiently at the long skirt that tangled between her legs. The ugly color wasn’t bad enough but when Galahad had insisted on riding out of the castle to the hill overlooking the countryside, she was forced to share his horse, bunching the skirt up between her legs. Two on horseback looked romantic in the movies but in real life it was damned uncomfortable. He’d given her no choice, simply scooped her up and deposited her in front of him. Good thing though. Aside from the occasional pony ride as a kid, she’d never been on a horse in her life. “That hill over there?”

  He slid off the horse and helped her down. “Past the hills and the valleys.”

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “’Tis nothing to see but the future.”

  “The future?” She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. Did he know about her?

  “Aye. ’Tis
where my future lies.”

  She exhaled a breath she didn’t realized she held. “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you mean?”

  He studied the horizon for a long moment and Tessa marveled at the strength in his profile. This was definitely a man with a purpose. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left her in Oriana’s care yesterday and had to admit she’d missed him. What thoughts and dreams lay hidden in that handsome head of his? “When the king returns, I shall ask him for permission to undertake the quest that has always been my hope, nay, my destiny.”

  “Oh, I get it. You’re talking about the Grail.”

  He slanted her a suspicious glance. “How do you know this?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not hard to figure out. You’re Sir Galahad. A Knight. One of the good guys. This is Camelot. Besides, Merlin mentioned it.”

  “Merlin?” He quirked a brow. “I spoke but briefly to him while you slept. He said nothing of this to me. The wizard is not a man who reveals information freely. He spoke only of his desire to have me guide you through our kingdom and customs.” He narrowed his eyes. “Nor did he speak of the quest you and he discussed in the chapel.”

  “No?” That annoying lump was back again.

  “No.” His voice was firm. “I wish you to tell me of his plans.”

  “I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “I have nothing to do with this. I’m just along for the ride.”

  “Nonetheless, I—”

  “Let’s not talk about it right now.” She wandered off a few paces and turned toward him. “Let’s talk about you.”

  “’Tis nothing much to say.” He crossed his arms over his chest as if defying her to contradict him.

  “Sure there is. Like…um…” She plopped down on the hillside and patted the ground beside her. “Tell me about Arthur and Guinevere.”

  “Very well.” He sighed and settled down next to her. “Before Arthur came to the throne, the land was—”

  “No, no. I don’t want a history lesson. I know all of that. Well, enough to get by anyway.” She pulled her knees toward her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Tell me about the man and the woman, not the king and the queen. What are they really like?”