The Last Knight (Pendragon Book 1)

Home > Other > The Last Knight (Pendragon Book 1) > Page 7
The Last Knight (Pendragon Book 1) Page 7

by Nicola S. Dorrington


  “What are we going to do?” Wyn asked then. “We’ve got about a hundred miles to cover, and no transport. Percy’s in no position to walk anywhere.”

  Lance dug his fingers into the muddy ground beside me, staring absently into space. “We can’t stay here. They know where we are. We need to get out of the immediate area at least.”

  “Who knows where we are?”

  I knew Lance heard me, but he acted as though he hadn’t. He got to his feet. “Wyn, head out and scout around, see if you can find somewhere we can stay. We need to get out of the open, and this cold weather. Don’t cause any trouble, and try to stay away from people.”

  “Cause trouble?” Wyn shot Lance an expression of wounded innocence. “I never cause trouble.”

  Lance snorted and turned away, missing the roll of Wyn’s eyes. He winked at me over Lance’s shoulder and disappeared into the trees.

  With his head back against the tree Percy looked like he was falling asleep. Lance cast a look his way then sunk onto the ground beside me.

  “Let me take a look at your head.”

  “I’m ok,” I insisted.

  “I’m sure you are, but will you humour me?”

  I laughed at the wry smile on his face and nodded. His smile widened and he tugged off his gloves.

  As his fingers cupped my chin the world faded once again. Instead of the trunk of a tree, I sat against the base of a high stone wall. Lance’s hair was longer, tangled and tied back with a leather thong. I wanted to look around me, to see more of where we were, but he kept my face turned firmly towards his. I knew this vision, or whatever it was, would only last as long as our bare skin was touching, but I still didn’t know what it was, or how it worked.

  Keeping his fingers tight on my chin he used his other hand to gently probe the wound to the side of my head, making me wince at the pressure. As he looked over the cut, I had no choice but to watch his face.

  A shadow of stubble covered his strong jaw, dark even against his tanned skin. This was the first time I’d really had an excuse to look at him closely, so I took advantage of it. His nose looked like it had been broken sometime in the past and never properly set, and there was a faint scar down one cheek, barely there, just a paler line of skin. His lower lip was a little fuller than the upper and they were parted as he concentrated.

  He seemed to become aware of my scrutiny because he smiled.

  “What are you looking at?”

  My eyes moved from his mouth to his eyes. They were such a dark blue, like the deepest part of the ocean.

  “I’m looking for any kind of signs that you’re a crazed axe murderer.”

  He chuckled. “Find any?”

  I touched the scar on his cheek. His skin was warm under my fingers. “How did you get this?”

  “Wyn,” he replied with another chuckle. “He’s the one who broke my nose too.”

  “Friendly.”

  He shrugged. “He was trying to prove a point. It was…a long time ago.”

  A smile crossed his lips, making his cheek move under my fingers. His eyes were boring into mine and there was something in the depths of them I couldn’t quite identify.

  “Lance?” Wyn’s voice broke the silence and we both started, moving away from each other.

  The real world came back into focus around me and I looked up. Wyn stood over us, a strange smile on his face.

  “I’ve found a small cottage. About a mile away. It was all locked up and pretty dusty – so I don’t think anyone’s living there at the moment.”

  I noticed the use of past tense when he mentioned it being locked up, but Lance ignored it.

  “Perfect. Let’s get going. I’ll feel better when we’re under cover.” He tugged his gloves back on and then stood up, reaching down to pull me to my feet. “Are you able to walk?”

  I nodded. The thought of being the helpless female again didn’t appeal.

  Lance seemed to approve of that. He squeezed my shoulder and then hauled Percy to his feet. He nodded to Wyn to lead the way, and like the walking wounded from some battle, we began the hike through the trees.

  Chapter Eight

  It started snowing. Not the slushy wet snow I was used to at home; out here in the country they were big fluffy flakes that came down thick and fast. It settled quickly on the solid, frozen earth.

  It landed in my hair and caught in my eyelashes. It wasn’t even midday but the sky was black, full of heavy, dark clouds.

  Even in Lance’s jacket I started to shiver, the freezing air stinging my hands and face.

  “How much further?” I asked Lance between chattering teeth.

  He glanced down at me, his eyes settling on the black ballet flats I was wearing. “Not far. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the fact you aren’t really wearing the right shoes for hiking through the country.”

  I tried to smile, but my lips seemed to be frozen.

  “We’re nearly there,” Wyn called from a few yards ahead. “I’ll go on ahead and make sure it’s all still clear.”

  We watched him jog out of sight amongst the trees and plodded on after him. Beside me Percy stumbled. He seemed to be getting paler. I was worried about hm. While Lance had re-set and bound his arm almost professionally I couldn’t help thinking that he should be in hospital. It made me wonder about Lance too. What kind of person knew how to deal with such a bad injury without even batting an eye?

  Would it make a difference if you knew?

  The voice in my head was soft, but there was no way of ignoring it.

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Huh?” Lance looked down at me in confusion.

  “Sorry, nothing. I just…”

  It’s fine. Lance knows me. Lance knows me very well.

  I blinked in surprise but Lance’s eyes widened in understanding.

  “Oh. Right.” He swallowed hard, gazing off into the trees with a little more intensity than they merited. “Is – is he always there?”

  I remembered the horrible moment when the voice had spoken through me. The way Lance had responded to those words. “You know ‘him’?”

  The muscles tightened in Lance’s jaw. “Yes. In a way.”

  “How? How can you know a voice in my head? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know. And I wish I could explain all of this, but I’ll only mess it up. I won’t be able to explain it right.”

  “You could try.”

  For a moment he hesitated like he was going to tell me the truth, but then we stepped past a couple of trees and a small cottage appeared in front of us.

  It was a quaint little holiday cottage with climbing roses on the walls, rented out to people who wanted a taste of living in the country without having to actually move there. But it was off-season, and the place had been locked up for the winter. The weeds were encroaching on the path and the paint on the door was chipped and peeling.

  The snow had been getting worse as we walked, so I didn’t need Lance’s encouragement to duck in through the open doorway. There were only two rooms downstairs, leading off a narrow central hall and a set of stairs leading up to a dark landing. One was the kitchen, the big, black bulk of a range cooker lurking in the corner, but Lance’s hand on my shoulder steered me into a sitting room and straight to the armchair closest to the fire.

  The room wasn’t large, and it was full of old, chunky furniture that made it feel even smaller. The floor was smooth oak boards, covered by thick rugs. Browning pictures of country scenes hung on the walls, and in the corner stood a grandfather clock with an annoyingly loud tick. It was out of the snow and the wind, but it was still bitterly cold.

  As we came in Wyn was already hunkered down in front of the open fireplace and I hadn’t been sat down for more than a few minutes when there was the crackle of flames taking hold. Wyn sat back as the fire rose up, filling the room with a warm orange glow.

  Percy followed Lance inside and took the other armchair opposite me. He didn’t look good, but the warmth
of the fire brought some colour back to his cheeks.

  The warmth was also washing over me, making my fingers and lips tingle as they defrosted. It made me think of when my mother had still been at home with us. If it had been cold or wet when I’d walked home from school she’d always been ready with a hot bath and a cup of hot, sweet tea. That’s what it felt like in front of the fire, like I was sinking into a hot bath.

  “Cara?”

  Soft fingers touched my shoulders, jerking me awake. I didn’t even remember falling asleep. I was still in the armchair, but someone had tucked a blanket around me. Outside the window the sky had grown even darker.

  I blinked sleepily at the face leaning over me and it came into focus.

  “Wyn? How long have I been asleep?”

  His eyes sparkled. “About eight hours. Lance told me to let you sleep.”

  “Eight hours?” I repeated in disbelief. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept that long straight through. And not a single dream. Across from me Percy shifted in his chair, turned his head away from the fire and started snoring. “Where’s Lance?”

  Wyn shot me a wounded expression. “Am I not good enough for you?” I laughed and he winked. “He’s just popped out. He figured you’d be hungry when you woke up. And there’s no food in this place.”

  “Why didn’t he send you?” I didn’t know why, but I felt edgy without Lance there.

  Wyn chuckled, crouching down to poke at the fire. “It’s a trust thing. Lance trusts me in a lot of things, but not when it comes to dealing with other people.”

  “He said you broke his nose.” The words popped out of my mouth without meaning to say them.

  “He told you that, huh?” Wyn laughed again. “Yeah. It was a long time ago. He…uh…had some overconfidence issues. I had to take him down a few notches.”

  “Overconfident about what?”

  Wyn shook one finger at me. “I’m not going to fall for that one. Lance would have my head if I told you something I shouldn’t.”

  I watched him carefully as he added a couple of logs to the fire.

  Cara, don’t.

  Ignoring the warning in my head, I reached out and touched Wyn’s stubble covered jaw.

  Even as he flinched away I gasped. My head was filled with screams of pain, the clash of metal on metal and the sound of a crowd. I stood in the middle of some kind of arena. Wyn was in front of me with his back towards me, but as he turned to face me I saw blood all over his hands and face.

  I lost contact with his skin and the image faded. Wyn was watching me through narrowed eyes.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Cara.” His voice was a low growl. Wyn had never looked more dangerous. I suddenly felt very vulnerable.

  “What was that? All that blood?”

  “What’s going on?” Lance appeared in the doorway, a shopping bag in each hand. His gaze flashed to Wyn’s face and back to mine. I was breathing rapidly, my heart hammering in my chest.

  “Cara saw something she didn’t like,” Wyn said in a low voice. “I’d say it serves her right for prying.”

  “I-I just wanted to see if it would happen with you too. It doesn’t happen with other people.” I thanked God for small mercies that it didn’t. I didn’t need anything else to make me more of a freak.

  The guarded expression in Wyn’s eyes lifted and a smirk twisted his lips. “We’re not like other people.”

  “All right, Wyn,” Lance snapped, crossing the room. “Enough. Why don’t you go and sort out some supper?”

  “Why me?”

  “Because I told you to,” Lance replied coolly.

  For a brief moment the two men glowered at each other before Wyn heaved himself to his feet.

  “Fine. But this is getting stupid. The girl needs to know what’s going on.”

  I felt myself shoved backwards in my own head as the voice took over my mouth for the second time.

  “That is not your decision to make.”

  Wyn’s eyes widened. I don’t know how he knew it wasn’t me speaking, but he responded immediately. His face paled and he dropped to one knee in front of me.

  “By all that’s holy,” he murmured.

  I blinked as my body was released back into my control. Wyn was still gazing up at me in awe, but Lance nudged him the toe of his boot.

  “Supper. Now.”

  As Wyn hurried out into the kitchen I turned to Lance. I was still shaking off the effects of being possessed, or whatever it was, but I wasn’t about to let it go.

  “Wyn’s right. I need to know what’s going on.” I was struggling to get the images I’d seen when I’d touched Wyn out of my head. There had been so much blood.

  Lance crouched down beside my chair and tipped his head to look up at me. His dark hair was wet with melted snow and it hung down into his eyes, giving him an oddly boyish look. I had a strange desire to comb my fingers through those wet curls, but I kept my hands firmly in my lap.

  “You do need to know, Cara. I would never deny that. But if I tell you things, and I explain it wrong, and you react – badly, then I could ruin everything.”

  “What everything? I thought I was going crazy but it’s more than that isn’t it?”

  “A lot more than that,” Lance replied. He rested his fingers on my forearm, rubbing the stiff leather of his jacket I was still wearing. Staring down at his own fingers he cleared his throat. “Something is happening, and the dreams and the voice are part of that. It’s something bigger than any one person. I wish I could tell you everything, Cara, I really do. But I will tell you this. I’ve been waiting a long time for you, and so I am not about to let anything happen to you. You need to believe that.”

  “Why? Why have you been waiting for me?”

  Again Lance hesitated. “Because you’re my second chance.”

  “Your second chance at what?”

  “Making the right decisions. A long time ago I made the wrong choice. I chose myself over my duty. I chose my own happiness over the person to whom I owed everything.”

  “What’s so wrong with wanting to be happy?”

  “When your happiness means forsaking everyone you love, it’s selfish. When it’s going against everything you believe in, everything you stand for, it’s selfish. I was an idiot and I paid for it in ways you can’t even imagine.” He bowed his head, the rough pain in his voice clutching at my heart.

  It took a moment to realise the pain was not all my own. The voice, the presence, in the back of my mind was filled with remorse and pain too.

  Tell him that I forgive him. That I forgave him a long time ago.

  I gave in to the impulse and reached out, brushing my fingers through his thick, dark curls. The world faded again and I sat instead in a great throne-like chair of rich mahogany wood and gold, Lance knelt on the marble floor in front of me.

  “Lance,” I whispered. I still didn’t know who ‘he’ was, but if passing on his message would stop Lance looking so defeated I would do it without question. “He forgives you. He says he forgave you a long time ago.”

  Lance’s head came up sharply, his deep, blue eyes boring into mine. Some of the tightness in his eyes lessened. A little chink appeared in the armour he held so tightly around himself. “Perhaps, perhaps if I can succeed with you where I failed him, I’ll be able to forgive myself.” He gently pulled his head away from my hand and forced a small smile onto his lips. “Now, enough of me feeling sorry for myself. Let’s feed you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dinner was simple stuff. Tinned soup and crusty bread. To my empty stomach it was better than any five star restaurant. Lance woke Percy up to eat, but he slumped over his bowl, bleary eyed. His colour was better, but I still worried about him. I couldn’t even imagine how painful a broken arm must be.

  When I mentioned it to Lance after we’d finished, he smiled.

  “Percy will be fine. I’ve seen him recover from far worse injuries than this. He just needs to rest. Sleep is the best thing fo
r him at the moment.” He glanced down at me. “Talking of sleep, I think you could do with some more.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve slept plenty today.”

  “But Percy wasn’t the only one who was hurt today. There’s a bed upstairs.”

  I thought about protesting. I’d been lucky enough to have some uninterrupted sleep, but a second time might be pushing it, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for any more dreams. Lance’s expression was resolute, however, and the cut on my head was throbbing.

  He ushered me upstairs to one of the two small bedrooms and dropped my bag on the dresser. I hesitated in the doorway. The room was cold and smelt musty and damp. Painfully floral wallpaper clashed with geometrically patterned curtains and a ragged rug covered the hardwood floor.

  “Sleep, Cara,” Lance said softly as he stepped back out into the hallway. “We’ve got one hell of a journey tomorrow.”

  He closed the door behind him with a soft click as I sunk down onto the bed. The ancient springs clinked and groaned under me.

  I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be thinking and feeling. Just a few days ago my life had been mostly normal. I’d had my issues like anyone. But I lived my normal, everyday life, or at least, normal for me. Now I was god knows where, with three people I barely knew, who seemed to know me better than I knew myself. I had a voice in my head that appeared to be a completely independent entity. And just that morning I’d been in a massive traffic accident and left the scene before the police could arrive. I felt like I’d slipped into a parallel universe.

  Somehow though, despite all that, I felt a deep sense in my gut that this was where I was supposed to be. Where ever the next few days led me, I was on the right path. Words like fate and destiny might have sounded corny, but they rang true.

  With those thoughts chasing around in my head I lay back on the bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling. I don’t know when I fell asleep or when my thoughts slipped into dreams.

  I dreamt of my mother at first, back before she’d been institutionalized. She was playing with me in the garden. I was young, only five or six, and we were playing hide and seek. But the last time I hid she didn’t come to find me and I crouched behind a tree for what felt like hours.

 

‹ Prev