“Correct.”
“Don’t you think I need to know what mistakes he made? What problems he ran into?” Merlin seemed to consider her words and she pressed her point. “How can it hurt? I already agreed to go with him. I promised. I gave my word.”
Merlin eyed her as if debating how much to reveal.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” A cold hand squeezed her heart. “He was killed, wasn’t he? He never found the Grail because he died, didn’t he?”
“All men die, Tessa, sooner or later. Some breathe their last in service to king and country and some pass quietly to the next world in their beds, their last thoughts filled with the sum total of their lives. Satisfaction or self-loathing. Contentment or bitterness.” Merlin paused. “Galahad lived a very long life.”
“Thank God.” Relief washed through her and she exhaled a long breath. “I thought for sure—”
“He died an old man, Tessa, alone and filled with self-loathing.” The wizard stopped for a moment as if gathering unpleasant memories. “Britain was in disarray, Arthur and Lancelot long dead, the world Galahad cherished fading to a distant memory. Forgotten were the triumphs of his youth. He could not put his failure to find the Grail to rest and spent the last years of his life wondering if he had done this differently or that better, would it have made a difference. In many ways he felt responsible for the end of it all.”
Tessa gazed at Galahad, frozen in his anger. Even motionless he was a powerful figure exuding strength and confidence. The idea of him spending his last days as a broken old man was more than she could bear. “There’s a chance we won’t find it, isn’t there?”
“A very good chance.”
She glanced at the wizard. “Does it even exist?”
“You must believe, my dear.”
She stepped closer to Galahad’s suspended figure and stared. She’d never met a man like this and wondered if anyone comparable had lived before or since. Probably not. He was one of a kind. “I’ve always had a hard time believing in anything you can’t see or touch. I’ve always needed proof to believe.”
“I know.” Merlin sighed. “It’s one of your more annoying qualities. However, it’s quite entertaining to watch you change your mind.”
She wanted to reach up and run her hand along the side of his face. Just to make certain he was real, of course. Not out of any weird need to touch him. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
Merlin chuckled. “You did not believe in any of this before we met. Now, you do. There is much more you have to learn about belief and faith and what is and isn’t real before your days here are finished.”
“More?” She pulled her gaze away from the knight and swiveled to face the magician. “How much more?”
“If I told you”—Merlin smirked—“it would take all the fun out of it.”
She widened her eyes. “Fun for whom?”
“Me.”
Tessa groaned. “I should have known. I can’t imagine I’ll be having that great a time. For one thing, in case you haven’t noticed, he’s really mad about being stuck with me.”
“He’ll get over it.”
“And for another, why a riddle?”
“Riddles, poems, puzzles, that’s how these things work. This is a Quest. Grand and noble and virtuous. It’s the stuff of tales told through the centuries and sagas related late into the night and epics passed on from father to son. It’s not a scavenger hunt. Such a venture requires at the very least a riddle to solve.” Merlin stared down his nose at her as if she had an IQ too low to support life. “In your own rather distinctive term—duh, Tessa.”
“Well, pardon me for not being up on the rules.” Tessa glared. “This is my first quest. I was hoping for something a little more specific than sappy poetic phrases about illusions and infidels.”
“I thought it was quite well written myself,” Merlin murmured.
“It was charming. But what does it mean?”
“You honestly expect me to tell you?”
Hope flickered. “Would you?”
Merlin sniffed. “Hardly.”
“I didn’t think so.” She considered him for a moment. “But how about a little help?”
“What kind of help?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing too significant,” she said with a laid-back manner as if she didn’t care what he said one way or the other. “Let me think. Maybe something like…oh…say…a map?”
“A map?”
“Sure, a map.” She tried and failed to keep the eagerness out of her voice. “You know. Like, say, a treasure map. Something simple. Maybe even a basic road map with a few pertinent details marked.”
“Something like X marks the spot, perhaps?” Merlin’s voice was thoughtful.
Relief surged through her. “That would work.”
He drew his brows together. “But is it enough, do you think?”
“Sure, anything extra would be appreciated,” she said slowly. What was he up to?
“Perhaps something more along the lines of a Rand McNally atlas than a simple map.”
“An atlas?”
“Certainly. With drawings of tiny little knights on horseback pointing the way to the Grail?” His gaze was innocent but a sarcastic twinkle gleamed in his eye.
“Very funny, Merlin.”
He ignored her. “Or maybe I should forget about the map entirely and put up road signs instead? Grail crossing, thirty miles. Better yet—billboards. I can see it now.” He held his hands up as if framing a sign. “This way to the Grail. Turn at King’s Avenue, then ahead two blocks. Clean toilets available.”
“Let me tell you, Mr. Wizard, this place could certainly use some clean restrooms. Have you been in what passes for a bathroom here?”
“It’s the bloody Middle Ages!”
“I know that! It’s hard to miss. I was just asking for help.” Tessa huffed. “You don’t have to get so nasty about it.”
Irritation washed across his face. “It’s a quest, Tessa. Not a treasure hunt. Not a game. The answer is not Colonel Mustard in the drawing room with the candelabra!”
“Candlestick,” she snapped. “I don’t get it. I know you want Galahad to succeed. Why the big deal about giving me a hand?”
“I have given you the riddle.”
“Fat lot of help that is!”
“It’s an excellent riddle,” he said loftily.
“It stinks.”
“It tells you everything you need to know.”
Frustration raised her voice. “But what if I can’t figure it out?”
“You have to work at it.”
“My mind doesn’t operate that way. I don’t understand riddles. And definitely not this one.”
“You will.” It was as clear an order as she’d ever heard.
She narrowed her eyes in defiance. “I won’t!”
“You’d better.” Merlin’s black eyes gleamed. “It’s his only chance. And one last thing, my dear.”
“What now?”
“Hear me well, Tessa. From the moment you and Galahad begin the quest to the moment of its resolution, be that success or failure, triumph or tragedy, win or lose, you are on your own. Totally and completely. I will not be able to help you in any way. Those are the Rules.” Abruptly, she realized he was fading. “Do not depend on anyone but yourselves to see it through.”
“You can’t throw something like that at me then disappear! That’s a pretty wimpy way to win an argument!”
“Sometimes, Tessa, it’s not at all how you play the game—”
“You’re cheating!” she yelled.
“—it’s only winning that counts.” Merlin’s laughter hung in the room.
“Wait, hold it, stop!” She gestured at Galahad’s frozen figure behind her. “What am I supposed to with him?”
“Nay, my lady, what am I to do with you?”
Chapter Ten
Galahad’s voice rang hard and cold and ’twas all he could do to keep it under control.
Te
ssa stiffened. Surely she was not afraid of him? Although she, no doubt, believed she had reason enough to be, as indeed she did. Still, while he was not pleased with her, he would never harm her. Galahad cast a quick glance around the chamber. And where was the sorcerer? No matter. Tessa was the one he wished to speak with and he would no longer allow her evasions.
“Tessa.” The command was clipped and sharp.
Her shoulders rose and fell as if she’d taken a breath for courage. She turned to face him, a smile sweet as a morning in spring upon her face. “Galahad.”
Past time for pleasantries. “Why are you here?”
“Did you know when you’re mad a vein throbs right at your temple?” Her eyes widened with feigned innocence.
“I am in complete control of my faculties. I am, however, angry.” He stepped toward her, his hands clenched at his sides, his nails biting into his palms. Better there than around her neck. “Answer me. Why are you here? Who are you?”
She stepped back and thrust out her hand. “Tessa St. James. I think we’ve met.”
“Do not toy with me.” His voice was harsh. Perhaps around her neck was not such a bad idea. “I know your name. Now I wish to know your purpose.”
Uncertainty flashed in her eyes. “That’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Attempt it.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Hah! What is yet another thing to add to the growing list of that which I dislike. Your answer, Tessa. Now.”
“I just hope you can take it, that’s all.”
Even when her phrases were muddled her meaning was clear. He narrowed his eyes. “I can take it.”
“Okay.” She glanced about the room as if looking for salvation that was not to be found.
“Tessa!”
“MerlinbroughtmeheretohelpyoufindtheGrail,” she said in one long breath, squeezed her eyes closed and buried her face in her hands. Did she indeed expect him to smite her where she stood? If news of this ilk had come from another he would be sorely tempted.
He stared at her, struggling to accept the inevitable. He’d known all along Merlin had a plan in mind for Tessa and himself. He’d thought ’twould be paltry and frivolous, a matter to while away an afternoon but nothing of true importance. Not until she’d whispered in his ear had he suspected the truth.
Tessa peeked at him through her fingers. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Galahad stared for a long moment. “Why?”
“Why? I don’t know I just assumed you’d have something to say about this.”
“By all that is holy, woman!” His patience snapped. “’Tis not what I meant. Why are you here to help me?”
“I honestly don’t know for sure.” She shrugged. “Something about you not being able to do it without me and my having something you need.”
“It makes no sense.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “No sense at all.”
“I thought it was pretty weird myself. Especially since I’ve never been on a quest before. Let’s face it, I have no practical questing experience. Oh sure, I went camping with my folks a couple of times as a kid but nothing like—”
“Would you cease that infernal babbling!”
Tessa eyed him in a thoughtful manner, quiet for a mere handful of seconds. “Why aren’t you yelling at me?”
“’Twould do no good to raise my voice.” Resignation washed through him. He had no choice in the matter. “My king and his counselor have decreed you will accompany me. There is no argument to be had. Yet I do not understand what aid you could possibly render to me. At least not on a venture of this nature.”
“That’s what I thought but—wait a minute.” Her brows pulled together. “What do you mean by that?”
“’Tis apparent, my lady, as to my meaning.” His gaze traveled over her. ’Twas not an unpleasant journey.
“You look like a customer checking out a used Volvo.”
A Volvo?
She planted her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do next? Kick my tires? Check under my hood? Take me out for a test drive?” At once a charming blush swept up her face. Galahad wondered precisely what a “test drive” would entail and suspected it might well be a pleasure.
“You are indeed a comely female, Tessa—”
“You’re pretty cute yourself, pal.”
“—not unlike a flower in summer, lovely and fragile—”
“I’m tougher than I look,” she said quickly.
“—but a man risking life and limb for a treasure such as the Grail needs not a blossom but a sword. Why did they not give me a knight to guard my back or an army to defeat the foes that will surely cross my path?” He shook his head in disgust. “Why have they saddled me with you?”
“You know your attitude leaves a lot to be desired,” she said slowly. “And it’s really beginning to tick me off.”
“Hah! If that means what I think it does you are not the only one ticked off.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me, Tessa St. James, why you?”
“I told you, Merlin said you can’t do it without me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I have something you need.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow in scorn. “What do you have that I need?”
“Probably humility,” she snapped.
“I am humble enough to know that I have no chance to succeed with a woman at my side.”
“Well, buck up, Big Guy. You don’t have a choice.”
“Nay. The decision has been made for me.” He studied her for a moment. She was small but appeared sturdy. Aye, she had felt so in his arms today. Sturdy and well made. Would it be so bad to have her by his side? And had he not regretted that he had not the time needed to learn more of her nature and her land and the feelings she aroused within him? “Very well. You may accompany me.”
“Be still my fluttering heart.”
He ignored the unbecoming sarcasm in her tone. “’Twill not be easy.”
“That’s a surprise.”
“I will not put up with the delay caused by servants or carts. We will do without such encumbrances.” He paced the room, an idea teasing the edge of his mind. “You will ride a horse.”
“Fine.” She grimaced. “How hard can it be? A horse is just a big pony, right?”
He stared at her. He had no desire to have a woman’s, any woman’s, life in his hands. This was a woman obviously unused to the deprivations of an undertaking of this type. A woman who would no doubt turn and run at the prospect of the crude conditions this quest would require, let alone the danger. Could she be encouraged to do so before they left? ’Twould be in her best interest for him to make certain the fair lady knew exactly what difficulties lay ahead.
“’Twill not be an easy venture. We will sleep on the ground. Hunt for food to supplement the minimal provisions we will take. Discomfort is the least of it. Obstacles risking life and limb will confront us at every turn.”
“I can handle it.” Was her voice a bit weaker? Did apprehension dim the glow of her eyes?
He smiled to himself. “As I will not take Bartholomew, you will perform the duties of a squire. You shall tend to the meals and the camp. You will make certain the horses are watered and fed. You will—”
“I don’t think so.”
He stopped. Any fear he’d tried so carefully to fuel was gone, replaced by the obstinate look he already knew too well. What had he said wrong?
“I’m not going to play maid, cook and bottle washer in the wilderness.” She shook her head slowly. “I’ll share in the grunt work but I won’t do it by myself. We’re partners in this little adventure. Equals.”
He snorted in disbelief. “No woman is equal to a man.”
“Not physically maybe—”
“Come now, Tessa.” Surely, she did not believe this nonsense?
“In fact, I’ve always figured women were actually superior to men.”
“’Tis true that a woman indeed h
as some qualities in greater abundance than man.” The image of Dindrane flashed through his mind and his voice softened. “Their spirits are kinder, their natures gentler—”
“Oh, get off it.”
“—with some exceptions,” he said pointedly.
“I rese—”
“’Tis the truth, Tessa, that a woman’s mind is inferior as is her character.”
“Inferior?” Tessa’s mouth dropped open. ’Twas clear she could not refute his statement. Triumph swelled in his chest.
He favored her with a superior smile. “Indeed. ’Tis well known that the qualities valued in a man—honor, loyalty, courage—are lacking in a woman.”
“Lacking?” She stared wide-eyed.
He chuckled. “’Tis why women are for kissing, not for questing.”
“Really? Tell me more.” Her voice was cool but anger flashed in her eyes. ’Twas not the look of defeat. His sense of victory faltered. She stepped to the fireplace and studied the tapestry over the mantel as if she was more interested in it than the discussion at hand. Was her manner meant to disarm him? “About these manly, macho things. For example, tell me about honor.”
“Honor? ’Tis a man’s solemn vow to king and country. Or his word given freely to another. Or—”
“A promise?” she said innocently.
“Indeed.” What was the blasted woman trying to say?
“So going back on a promise would not be at all honorable, would it?”
“Nay. A man’s word is his bond.” Confidence rang in his voice.
“That’s what I thought.” She turned toward him, a smug smile on her face. “You promised to let me help you.”
Success shattered all together. “’Twas a trick. I knew not what such a vow would entail.”
“Too bad.” She walked to the table and trailed her fingers over the wooden surface. “According to your own rules, you have to let me help you.”
“You may help. You may tend the fire and cook the meals and—”
“Absolutely not!” She slapped her hand flat on the table and glared. “Look, pal, I didn’t ask for this, any of it. I don’t even want to be here. But I am. And like it or not, I’m part of it. A big part. I’m not a bit of excess baggage you have to cart along. And I’m not going to be relegated to menial details, up to and including cooking and cleaning. I don’t do that at home and I’m not doing it here. No way, no how.”
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