The Last Knight (Pendragon Book 1)

by Nicola S. Dorrington

  “Wyn!” I shouted so loud my voice cracked. “Gwain, damn you, get back here!” Silence followed my words so I moistened my mouth and shouted again.

  It was almost ten minutes before I heard running footsteps. Wyn burst through the broken archway at the far end of the throne room and skidded to a halt.

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, the expression on his face would have been funny. As it was his look of bewilderment only lasted for a moment before he charged across the room.

  His sword was already in his hand and he cut swiftly through the rope around my hands and I leant forward to free my ankles.

  “What the hell happened? Where are Lance and Percy?”

  I knew from Wyn’s voice that he feared the worst. His eyes scanned the room as though looking for bodies.

  “Lance has decided to play the hero,” I growled. The fear had slipped away. Now I was just really angry. Angry at him for being so stupid. Angry at myself for not being strong enough to stop him.

  Wyn understood instantly and I wondered if he’d been expecting it all along. For a moment he just sat staring into space. He was hunkered down on his haunches, his sword driven point first in to the dirt floor, his hands resting on the guard on either side of the hilt.

  It was easy, in moments like that, to see Sir Gwain instead of Wyn; to remember that he was in fact the oldest and longest serving of Arthur’s knights. And perhaps one of the most loyal.

  “Gwain?” I touched his arm when he didn’t seem about to speak. “What the hell are we going to do?”

  As he looked up at me, his eyes dark and a crease between his brows, I knew he thought the same as me; that the chances of seeing Lance and Percy again were practically nil.

  He sighed and dropped to the floor, his sword clattering to the ground beside him. Scrubbing one hand over his face, he swore quietly.

  “The rational, sensible side of me says we do nothing.”

  “But--”

  He held up one hand to silence me. “Logically, if Lance wants to get himself killed, us going after him isn’t going to make a damn difference. We’re only likely to get ourselves killed, as well. Besides, now he’s left it falls to me to protect you. And I would be failing in my duty if I let you go charging off after him.” He laughed bitterly. “But we’re going to go after him.” He laughed again at the look on my face. I didn’t blame him, I probably looked pretty confused. “I cannot sit back and do nothing. Lancelot might be a noble, self-sacrificing fool, but he’s like my brother. A very annoying, irritating, younger brother.”

  Wyn let out a loud ‘oouf’ as I flung my arms around him. I wouldn’t have stood a chance without him, but I would have gone anyway.

  “Grab your things,” he said, untangling himself from my arms. “They’ve got a head start on us. So we’d better get moving.”

  My belongings consisted of my shoes and Excalibur, so it didn’t take long. Wyn had to help me buckle on the sword; my fingers were trembling too much to manage the straps.

  We scrambled through the broken corridors and rooms until we reached the courtyard where the forest merged with the castle.

  I glanced over to where the griffin had landed, but other than some flattened grass it was hard to imagine such a fantastical creature had stood there. It sometimes felt like I was living in some kind of waking dream.

  I forced my attention back to Wyn.

  “So, where now? Does Lance even know where to find Morgana?”

  Wyn shrugged. “It shouldn’t be hard to guess. Even with the barriers to Avalon breaking down there are still only a few places left that hold enough of the old magic for her to be doing the things she’s doing. And only one that I know of that isn’t jealously guarded by the Fair Folk.”

  “Where?”

  “I think you call it Stonehenge.”

  It took a moment for me to process that. Of course, there were people who believed it was the source of mystical power, and every summer and winter solstice some of those new age lot performed strange rites at the stones. But I’d always assumed it was a load of rubbish. Did they know that it really did contain the old magic? Probably not. But like most things, it seemed, there was always some truth in the old myths.

  Wyn must have seen the surprised look on my face.

  “Stone circles were always placed to make the gateways into Avalon. Most of them have disappeared now, along with the magic, but Stonehenge was one of the biggest. It was there even before I was born. Of course, the fact that people still believe it has some kind of power helps the magic linger.”

  “And you think Morgana will be there?”

  “Lance does too. We were talking about it the other night. He’ll be going there.”

  It wasn‘t even light as we started the hike into the forest. Wyn seemed almost cheerful, and I wondered if he’d hated sitting around waiting as much as I had. He also seemed pretty positive it wouldn’t take us long to catch Lance and Percy.

  “We have one major advantage over them,” he said as he helped me clamber over a fallen tree. He paused, glancing around, and then turned back to me with a smug smile. “We’re the only ones who know how to drive.”

  The thought brightened my mood. Lance and Percy were on foot, and whilst it meant they could take a more direct route, once we got the car Wyn and I would be faster. All of a sudden it didn’t seem so hopeless.

  It took us over an hour to trek back to where we’d left the car and by the time we got there my arms were covered in scratches from pushing through the close growing trees.

  We clambered into the front seat and Wyn dug into the pocket of his jeans.

  As he turned the key a funny choking noise came from the engine. He tried again and the same thing happened. He glanced at me then flung open the door, hitting the lever to lift the bonnet as he climbed out.

  “That arrogant, twisted son of a…”

  “What?” I jumped out of the car and as soon as I looked down at the engine I joined Wyn with a few choice swearwords.

  Either Lance or Percy had taken their sword to it. Not really knowing what they were doing they had hacked at it indiscriminately, slicing through wires and hoses.

  “He’s thorough. I’ll give him that,” Wyn muttered as he slammed the bonnet back down.

  “So what now?” I asked, even though I was fairly sure of the answer.

  “We walk, at least for now. Until I can find another car.”

  I looked at the forest stretching out ahead of us and sighed. At least there was a track, and I wouldn’t be scrambling over roots and undergrowth now.

  An hour later I was hot, tired and fed up. I’ve never been the biggest fan of physical exercise. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it, I’d just never seen much point to it, although now I wished I’d made a bit more effort in P.E. I might have been a bit fitter if I had.

  Wyn noticed when I started to lag behind and he stopped to wait for me, leaning against the trunk of a massive oak tree.

  “Do you want to stop for a bit?”

  “Do we have time to waste?”

  Wyn looked at me for a long moment. I could feel the heat in my face so I knew I must be bright red, and my bangs were clinging to my forehead and cheeks. There was no air beneath the trees and despite the time of year it felt almost humid.

  “Sit, Cara.”

  I sighed thankfully and sank to the base of the tree. Two large roots acted as support and I tipped my head back to rest it against the bark of the tree.

  After a moment I opened my eyes. The sun was coming up and the leafless branches were silhouetted against the steel grey sky.

  “Are we going to catch up with him?” I asked softly.

  Wyn stirred beside me, but didn’t reply and I knew he was thinking of the right thing to say. Tipping my head to the side, I looked across at his strong profile. It was hard to believe I’d ever thought he was Lance’s older brother. Of all of them Wyn looked the most like he came from another time. The long hair that reached almost to his s
houlders, the stubble covered, strong jaw, and the eyes. No nineteen year old had eyes like that. I reached out trembling fingers to touch his rough cheek and the forest changed. Most of it vanished and we sat looking down into Camelot’s valley, the castle standing whole and proud.

  Wyn didn’t pull away. He seemed content to let us sit looking down into a world that no longer existed; a world that was now nothing more than a memory. It somehow gave me hope. Like Merlin had said, Camelot had fallen but the dream of it still lived on.

  “Will we find him, Gwain?” I asked, using my fingers to turn him to face me.

  “I don’t know, Cara. I honestly don’t know. But I won’t let you down, and – I won’t say I told you so.”

  I laughed, a little self-mockingly, and let my fingers drop. “Letting his heart rule his head again.” I smiled ruefully. “But you were worried Lance would get me hurt. I’m not the one who’s going to get hurt.”

  “If Lance were to die – that wouldn’t hurt you?”

  His voice was soft but it felt like the cut of a knife. The possibility of Lance dying was something I was trying not to think about, because even the thought made it hard to breathe. And it wasn’t just because I loved him – it was because the world needed people like Lance. Sometimes we all needed to believe in heroes.

  “I’m sorry, Cara.” Wyn’s fingers stroked my hair as a sob bubbled up. “I didn’t mean to upset you. But it proves my point. It’s irrelevant though, because I will do my best to stop that happening. We’ll rest a little longer, then we’ll get moving again.”

  It wasn’t even midmorning when I knew we didn’t stand a chance of catching up with Lance and Percy on foot. I wasn’t exactly slow, but Wyn’s longer strides ate up the ground far quicker than mine, and he kept having to stop and wait for me. Each time he did I knew Lance was getting further and further ahead of us.

  It was with that in mind that I had no objections when Wyn led us down towards the only village for miles around.

  A sleepy little place, the village had once been a mining town, but the mines had long since closed. It nestled in a little valley, watched over by a beautiful grey stone church. The little cottages were made of smooth grey slate, glowing in the light of the midday sun. The hillsides around it were purple with heather, alternately light and dark under the scudding clouds.

  “Have you got any money at all?” I asked Wyn as we reached the little village square.

  “Not enough for a car.”

  I shook my head and pointed to the small village shop on the other side of the green. “I was thinking about breakfast.”

  He followed my finger, then dug into his pocket. There wasn’t much, a five pound note and a few coins, but I took it.

  “You go – do your thing – and I’ll meet you on the road out of town.” I was glad of the excuse. I didn’t really want to be around whilst he was engaging in car theft.

  The bell above the door jingled as I entered the shop and an older lady behind the counter glanced up from her book. She smiled, but there was a suspicious edge to it. I didn’t blame her when I caught sight of my reflection in a glass fridge door. My hair was a tangled mess, snarled with bits of twig and leaves. Dirt smudged my cheeks, and dried blood covered the back of my shoulder.

  I wondered what the woman was thinking, but I didn’t have long to wonder. Just as I was reaching into the fridge for a couple of cans of coke she came up behind me, her eyes narrowed with concern.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m being rude,” she said in a thick welsh accent. “But are you all right?” Her eyes lingered on my blood stained t-shirt.

  Her tone was so gentle, so motherly, that part of me wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to tell someone the whole complicated mess. Instead I tried to smile.

  “I’m fine. We just had a little car trouble out of town, and we had to walk into town to try and find a mechanic.” It worried me how easily the lie came. The woman didn’t look convinced and her gaze on my shoulder became more intense. “I – I fell climbing over a stile. It’s worse than it looks.”

  She still looked a little suspicious, but she shifted her eyes back to my face. “You’ll be looking for young Gethin, down to the left. He’s a good boy; he’ll have you back on the road in no time.”

  I smiled my thanks and added a couple of bags of crisps and some chocolate to my arms. Without saying another word I paid, I only just had enough, and slipped quickly out of the door. I was eager to get away from the woman’s concerned, friendly smile. I couldn’t help wondering if it would be her car Wyn stole, or the car of someone she knew. The thought made me decidedly uncomfortable.

  By the time I got outside my palms were sweating. I really wasn’t cut out for a life of crime. Clutching my bag of junk food, I hurried down the road out of town.

  A bright yellow VW Beetle sat, engine idling, just beyond the last house. As I drew close enough I could see Wyn lounging in the front seat, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

  He looked the picture of ease, but I couldn’t share his lack of concern and I practically ran to the car, flinging myself into the passenger seat.

  Laughing at my expression, he pulled away.

  Once we’d put a few miles between us and the town I started to relax, even to the extent of turning on the radio.

  Wyn grimaced as a bit of indie rock started. “How do you listen to this stuff?”

  Despite the situation we were in I had to laugh. “You sound like my dad.”

  His lips twitched in a smile. “Do you know how far it is to Stonehenge?”

  “Pretty far,” I said, looking at the map I’d found in the glove box. “It’s about a hundred miles, at least two hours drive.”

  Wyn drummed his fingers against the steering wheel “We should still beat Lance and Percy there. They’ve got the advantage of cutting across country, but we’re faster than them.”

  “So what’s wrong?” I could tell there was still something bothering him.

  Keeping his eyes fixed on the road, he hesitated. “I obviously don’t want Lance and Percy to get there before us, but I’m also not too keen on getting there before them.”

  “Why not? After all, me against Morgana is what this whole thing has been leading up to.”

  “I know, and trust me, I understand better than Lance that it has to be you. But it doesn’t mean I’m too happy with the idea of you facing her with just me for back up. What if I can’t protect you?”

  “You can’t,” I said with a small shake of my head. “None of you can. That’s why it’ll be better this way. If I fail, Merlin is going to need you three.”

  We lapsed into silence, the wail of an electric guitar drifting out of the speakers. I was trying not to think about my confrontation with Morgana. I honestly couldn’t see how it was going to work out. Why had my visions of the future failed me now? I’d seen enough useless glimpses of the future, but I couldn’t see an outcome for this.

  “We need to make a detour,” I said suddenly.

  “Huh?”

  I looked up at Wyn. “I need to go home.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  We argued about it. Wyn tried everything to dissuade me, but I wouldn’t budge. I didn’t just want to go home, I needed to. We didn’t really have the time, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t help Lance by just rushing in there. We had to be prepared.

  At last, after I’d threatened to get us pulled over by the police, Wyn took the turning at the next junction and we started the long journey north.

  I’d been asleep for most of the journey down, what felt like a lifetime ago, but there was no chance of it this time. I was far too keyed up to close my eyes, even for an instant. Instead I sat with my forehead pressed against the window, staring at the scenery as it flashed past. Wyn drove way too fast, completely ignoring the speed limit. It should have taken us about three and a half hours. It took far less.

  I sensed Wyn’s eyes on me now and then, but he didn’t speak. I didn’t think
he knew what to say.

  I don’t know what to say, Arthur said in the silence of my mind. I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Not when Lance is currently on his way to confront Morgana.

  A sign post flashed past; there was only thirty miles to go.

  Cara?

  I sighed and settled deeper into my seat. Trying to explain myself to Arthur wasn’t top of my list of priorities, but it was hard to escape him when he shared my head.

  There’s a chance I could die today, I told him. A very good chance. I can’t leave my father wondering. I have to say some kind of goodbye.

  Is that wise?

  I don’t care if it’s wise. I need to do it. I needed to see my mother too, though I didn’t say that to Arthur, not when there was still a chance I was wrong. That was the real reason.

  “Turn left here,” I said to Wyn ten minutes later.

  He nodded. “I remember.” He shot me a quick smile. “We spent a lot of time outside your house.”

  I’d forgotten that they’d been watching me before Lance made contact.

  The outskirts of my town appeared and before long we were driving along my street. The red brick houses were oddly alien to me, as though they belonged in another life. Time seemed to slow as we approached my house, and my heart beat sped up.

  As the VW rolled to a halt, my breath caught in my throat. The rose bushes in the garden were budding; the first time in four years.

  One of the curtains twitched as I got stiffly out of the car. Wyn stayed in the front seat for a long moment, then sighed and followed me.

  I just reached the front path when the door slammed open. Dad stood framed in the doorway, his eyes wide with disbelief. He looked a mess. The sweat pants he was wearing were stained and his t-shirt was crumpled. Clearly he hadn’t shaved since I’d left, and his eyes were bloodshot.

  “Cara?” he croaked. His hands reached towards me. “Oh god, Cara.”

  I tripped as I ran forward and moments later Dad enfolded me in his arms. I don’t know how long we stood there, but we were both crying. Eventually he pushed me back a step to hold me at arm’s length.