A crunch of twigs made me look away from Merlin. Lance walked round the fire to stand in front of me.
“What did you think of Nimue?”
The question startled me. It wasn’t the conversation starter I’d been expecting. “She’s – incredible.”
He smiled. “She can be a little overwhelming at first. The Fair Folk are all like that. They’re so – non-human.”
My stomach gave a little uncomfortable wriggle. I couldn’t quite bring myself to look Lance in the eye. “You know a lot about the Fey?”
“I know a lot about Nimue,” he replied, not quite answering the question. “My mother died in childbirth, and after my father’s death Merlin brought me here to Nimue. I still don’t know why exactly. But she raised me from a child, until I left to join Arthur’s court. It’s why in some legends I’m referred to as Lancelot Du Luc, Lancelot of the Lake.”
That explained Nimue’s tone when she had spoken of him earlier. “You were raised by the Lady of the Lake?”
He nodded. For a long moment we stood in silence. Lance drummed his fingers against his thigh, but just occasionally his fingers reached towards his left hip, fingers trying to close around something that wasn’t there. It reminded me of the time he’d faced down Anderson.
“You don’t like not having your sword, do you?”
He chuckled. “No. I’ve carried a sword since I was seventeen…” He stopped and grimaced. Looking up at my own unhappy expression he shook his head. “I wish you could see that this is as difficult for us as it is for you. I’m eighteen. This body is eighteen. But at the same time I’ve lived a lifetime. Sometimes it feels like my other life was a dream. That the six months I’ve been in this time is the only life I’ve ever known.” He stopped and scrubbed his hand over his stubble covered jaw, making a rasping sound. “Anyway, we were talking about my sword.”
I knew he was changing the subject, but I was fine with that.
“My sword is right here.” He lowered his hand again but this time it closed around something. Metal glittered between his fingers then solidified as he drew the great broadsword I’d seen him wearing the day before.
The blade flashed in the weak morning sun, the light skittering along the metal. The sword was at least three foot long, the hilt bound in tooled leather. The metal pommel and the guard were engraved with a swirling Celtic design.
“It’s beautiful.”
He reversed the sword, holding it out to me hilt first.
Instinctively I reached for it, but as soon as he released the blade I nearly dropped it, the point dipping to hit the grass.
“Bloody hell.”
“Heavy, isn’t it?” His lips curved into a familiar crooked grin. “This is my old sword. The Lady kept it safe for me.”
I wondered, as I looked over the hilt beneath my fingers, how I knew all the right terms for the parts of the sword, but an amused laugh from Arthur told me they came from him. It was getting easier, more natural, to access his memories.
“I can teach you how to use it if you like,” Lance said hesitantly, his eyes scanning my face.
I shook my head and thrust it towards him. “I can barely even lift it. I’d hate to think what damage I could do with it.” I watched as he re-sheathed it. It flickered for a moment and faded.
“Did you have it with you? That day with Anderson?”
Lance’s eyes darkened. “Of course. And it took all my will power not to draw it on that little worm.”
For a brief second I amused myself with the image of Anderson’s face if Lance really drew a sword on him. He’d probably have wet himself. Shaking myself out of that happy little thought, I looked back at Lance. He was watching me carefully, probably wondering why I was smiling.
“You should leave your hair loose more often,” he said suddenly.
I touched my hair self-consciously. It was almost dry after my dip in the lake and fell in soft waves to the middle of my back. I hated how the compliment made me feel, the warmth it brought to the pit of my stomach; it just made everything more complicated. Flushing, I pulled it back into a rough bun at the nape of my neck.
A little snort escaped Lance’s lips but I ignored it. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid.
“We should talk about what we’re going to do next,” I said to change the subject. “Where is the battle field for a start? How long will it take us?”
In the end Lance and I didn’t talk much. He seemed distracted and frustrated, scratching at the ground with a bit of stick, or pacing around the remains of the fire. He answered my questions with short, abrupt answers. The battle field wasn’t far. It wouldn’t take us long. Then we both lapsed into uncomfortable silence, until Lance jumped back to his feet and strode off into the trees.
You’re being unfair, Cara. I would have expected better of you.
I flinched at the angry note in Arthur’s voice. I don’t know what you mean.
I’d have thought after the way you have been treated you would be more tolerant. Lancelot cannot help who and what he is, yet you seem intent on punishing him for it.
I’m not, I protested, feeling guilty, and hoping that Arthur didn’t know the full reasons for me pushing Lance away. But I can’t just treat him like I did before. It’s different now. I don’t understand who he is.
Neither does he, Arthur replied gently. Lancelot, Gwain and Percival were not asked if they wished to be a part of this anymore than you were. They do it out of duty, and a kind of love I don’t think you understand. Merlin says he does not believe in summoning wraiths – he believes it is an abhorrent act to bring back the souls of the dead and force them back into their bodies. But perhaps what he has done to my knights is worse. They are not one thing, or the other, not dead but not truly alive. You imagine this is hard for you, Cara. It is hard for them too.
As Arthur’s voice trailed off I pulled my knees up to my chin, tucking the dress around my thighs. I felt guilty and uncomfortable. I don’t know how long I sat there, lost in my own tangled thoughts.
Rain started to fall, pattering down around me. It picked up within seconds, until it was hammering down, and the world darkened as clouds built up overhead. I glanced up at the sky as a flash of lightening ripped through, followed almost immediately by thunder. I shivered as a bitterly cold wind gusted across the lake.
Wrapping my arms around myself I turned towards Merlin.
“What’s happening?” I shouted over another crack of thunder.
Merlin’s eyes flicked towards the sky then out over the lake where the water was churning and boiling.
He started moving towards me just as Lance burst out of the trees. The jeans and t-shirt were gone, replaced by gleaming armour, his sword already unsheathed in his hand.
“Merlin! Nimue says something is attacking the Lake.”
“I can feel it,” Merlin shouted back. He spun on the spot and before my eyes his image flickered and changed, as though he couldn’t decide which form was best to face the threat. One minute he was the middle-aged man I had first met, the next his long hair and beard where being whipped by the wind, then he was a young man, barely older than Lance.
Lance reached me and grabbed my arm, pulling me in tight against his side. My elbow met his breastplate with a clang.
“Stay close,” he shouted over the growing thunder and the crashing of waves against the bank.
“What’s happening?” I shouted back, my fingers gripping the gauntleted hand on my forearm. “What do you mean something is attacking the Lake?”
Merlin was suddenly on my other side. He had settled on the form I had first expected. The one that had shaped people’s idea of wizards for centuries; long robes of deep blue, and his grey hair and beard reached almost to his waist.
“The Lake is protected by a Fey barrier. Someone is trying to penetrate that barrier with magic.”
“Morgana,” I gasped, clutching tighter to Lance.
He shifted his grip, wrapping one arm around my
waist. “I won’t let her touch you,” he said into my ear, his breath warm on my cheek.
The sky was ripped apart by a flash of lightening and I screamed as something crashed through the trees ahead of us. I wanted to be fearless and brave, but the truth was I was terrified.
It was too big to be a human. Branches crashed and splintered as whatever it was barrelled into trees, getting closer and closer.
Something emerged on the bank and I was too shocked to scream. The body was reptilian, almost dragon-like, standing on two legs, with stubby wings emerging from its back, meanwhile, the head was a bird’s, with a sharp curved beak and beady red eyes. It swung its head from side to side, a forked tongue tasting the air. Each foot had three-inch long, razor sharp claws, and its tail was barbed. It was a creature out of a nightmare.
As it lumbered down the bank towards us Merlin shouted something, a spell or a curse, and a fireball slammed into the creature’s side. It didn’t even falter in its charge.
Lance flung me behind him and leapt forward to meet it.
“No!” The word was ripped from my lips as the creature slammed into him.
Its claws raked down his chest, creating a horrible screeching noise, but Lance kept hacking and slashing with his sword.
Bright red blood sprayed across the grass, but I couldn’t tell if it was Lance’s or the creature’s. I wanted to help but I didn’t know how. I lunged forwards but Merlin was beside me, dragging me back.
The creature saw my movement and turned away from Lance, trying to get at Merlin and I. Lance turned and swung with all his might. The sword flashed through the air followed by a thud as the creature’s head separated from its body and rolled away.
Lance dropped to his knees and at last Merlin let me go. I slid and stumbled over the damp grass until I reached Lance. Falling to my knees in front of him I caught his face in my hands, forcing him to look up at me.
“You idiot. That thing could have killed you.” It didn’t matter that I’d been trying to push him away, that I’d been trying to kill my feelings for him. All that mattered was that he wasn’t hurt, because it was a thought I couldn’t bear to contemplate.
Lance looked a little dazed but at last fixed his eyes on me. “It’s called a cockatrice,” he slurred. His eyes rolled up and he slumped back onto the grass.
Chapter Seventeen
“A cockatrice?” I looked up quizzically at Merlin even as I gently lowered Lance’s head to the ground. His breathing was shallow, but steady.
“A creature of magic. Summoned from Avalon.” Merlin replied. His eyes travelled to Lance. “We had better get his armour off and see how badly he’s hurt.”
The armour was complicated. It had far too many buckles and straps for my trembling fingers, but at last I managed to tug off his breastplate. It was so heavy I couldn’t understand how he could even stand up in it. Deep rents had been made in the metal where the cockatrice had attacked him. I flung it to one side, trying not to think what those claws would have done to him if he hadn’t been wearing it. The metal bracers on his forearms and the gauntlets soon followed the breastplate onto the grass and with Merlin’s help I tugged off the chainmail shirt underneath.
It was only then we could see the damage. The padded linen undershirt was dark with blood on the right hand side where the cockatrice’s claws had found the gap at the side of his breastplate.
I sucked in my breath at the sight, my stomach clenching with fear.
Merlin pulled the rips of cloth back gingerly. “We need to get this shirt off so I can clean these wounds. I don’t think they’re deep but they could be infected.”
I nodded and helped him carefully pull the undershirt over Lance’s head. It wasn’t the time or the place but I couldn’t help my gaze lingering. His broad chest was solid, each muscle perfectly defined, a tiny trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button.
Cara? Arthur’s voice was tight and uncomfortable. It took a moment for me to realise that he had been sharing my lustful thoughts.
Stay out of my personal thoughts, I told him irritably, embarrassed at being caught out. I told myself firmly that I’d have stared regardless of who it was. I wasn’t stupid enough to deny that Lance was physically stunning.
I forced myself to focus on the job at hand, and whilst Merlin inspected the wound I ran down to the water. The dress from the Lady was so pretty, and I was honoured by the gift, but right then nothing mattered more to me than Lance’s injuries. Ripping the skirt of my dress off at just above the knee, I tore it into strips and bandages. I soaked some of the bigger wads of material in the lake and then ran back to Merlin.
“Good girl,” he said, taking one of the wads and starting to clean the blood away from the wound.
They weren’t deep, the chainmail had prevented the worst of it, but they were tinged a nasty green colour.
“Cockatrice venom,” Merlin said looking at them. He finished removing the worst of the blood and then laid one hand over the cuts, murmuring under his breath. A slight glow enveloped his hand and amongst the otherwise meaningless words I caught only one I recognised. Nimue. He was calling on the power of the Fair Folk in the best way he knew. It was almost like a prayer.
When he lifted his hand a few minutes later the green tinge was gone and the bleeding seemed to have stopped. He took the strips of my dress and carefully bound the wounds.
“Will he be ok?” I asked when he was done, staring down at Lance’s pale face.
Merlin squeezed my shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Cockatrice venom is nasty stuff, but I’ve cleaned it out. I’ve seen him suffer far worse. Once he wakes he can take a dip in the Lake. The waters are blessed by Avalon, their healing powers unmatched.”
I nodded and sat down cross-legged, gently easing Lance’s head into my lap, my fingers involuntarily threading through his curly hair. It was now three times that he’d saved my life. Human or not, I owed him. And owing him meant I was allowed to care if he lived or died, or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
An hour later when Wyn and Percy returned I still hadn’t moved. Their eyes took in the headless cockatrice, Lance’s unconscious form and my pale face.
“Bloody hell,” Wyn said throwing up his hands. “We leave you alone for a couple of hours and look at the trouble you get into.”
I smiled weakly as they both crossed to sit by me.
“Is he all right?” Percy asked in an overly casual voice.
“Merlin says he’ll be fine,” I replied hesitantly. “He saved my life,” I added.
Wyn smiled wryly. “It’s his job.”
“Too bloody right it is.”
I started and looked down. Lance had opened his eyes and was watching me carefully. He still looked very pale, but the glazed look was gone from his eyes.
“You’re awake.” I touched his shoulder with nervous fingers.
“I could hardly sleep with you lot talking right over my head.” He struggled to sit up, wincing and grunting. I berated myself for missing the feeling of his hair under my fingers. Wyn helped him and Lance sat forward, resting his arms on his thighs. He had to take a few breaths before he was able to speak.
“When did you two get back?”
“Just now. Bit disappointed we missed out on all the excitement really,” Wyn replied with a chuckle.
Excitement?” I shook my head, slightly bewildered.
Percy, meanwhile, was inspecting the cockatrice. He prodded it with his toe, wrinkling his nose as green gunk oozed from its wounds. “What I want to know is how the hell it got this close to the Lake. I thought this place was pretty well protected.”
“It is.” Merlin came towards us from the lake. “But Morgana threw everything she had at it. The only advantage we have is that she’ll be weakened. It will take her a few days to recover her strength before she dares attack Cara again.”
“All the more reason for us to get a move on,” Lance said, struggling to his feet. He wobbled as he turned and I grabbed hi
s arm.
“Sit down, you big idiot. We’re not going anywhere right now.”
“Idiot?” He lifted his eyebrows but let me sit him back down.
“Yes. Great, big idiot. What were you thinking, taking that thing on single-handed?”
He grinned weakly. “It was all part of my master plan.”
“Oh yeah?”
There was a sparkle in his eyes, a sparkle that reminded me of the Lance I’d first met before all this happened. The sight of it mustered a wistful longing inside me.
“Yeah.” He looked down at his bare chest. “My master plan to end up half-naked in front of you.”
I stared at him for such a long moment he started to look nervous, and then I laughed. A little too hard and a little too loudly, but they all joined in. Perhaps they all felt the same need I did to ease the tension. When we finally stopped I looked round for Merlin.
“When will he be fit to travel?”
“Later today. The wounds aren’t deep, and I’ve removed the venom.”
“Have we got time for lunch?” Percy asked, looking worried someone would say no.
“You and bloody food,” Lance exclaimed, but he was smiling. “Did you get any whilst you were out?”
Percy pointed towards the bags he’d dropped at the edge of the trees. “Do you really think I’d forget food?”
The bags turned out to contain enough food for a dozen people, rather than five of us. They also contained a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt for me. And right in the bottom of one bag was some lacy underwear.
I peered in and then looked up at Percy where he was busy devouring a jumbo sized bag of crisps. His eyes met mine and he blushed.
“I had to ask the shop assistant. She looked at me a bit oddly when I said I needed women’s underwear. So I told her they were for a – lady friend. She gave me those.”
I laughed. Quite clearly the shop assistant had assumed Percy was buying sexy underwear for a girlfriend. The stuff in the bottom of the bag was a little too skimpy for my taste, but I would take what I could get.
I glanced up from the bag to see Lance looking over curiously, but when I caught his eye he flushed and looked away. Wyn didn’t blush when I looked his way, he just shot me a wicked grin and I guessed Percy had already shown him the lingerie.
The Last Knight (Pendragon Book 1) Page 12