Albion's Legacy (Sons Of Camelot Book 3)

by Sarah Luddington

  “Remember, Holt, they want me alive. We can use that to our advantage.” Galahad rotated his right wrist, the sword catching the rising sun as it spun. A new habit from an old friend and one which I suspected came from excitement. He was seeking vengeance.

  The calm of moments before fled. My instincts as a warrior vanished and those of a pathetic addict took over. I tried to regain the peace necessary for measured, controlled fighting. My breathing increased, nervous excitement filled my blood and within twenty heartbeats they were on us. Their strange silence defying my need to scream a battle cry.

  The skirmish began. Galahad moved with his unearthly grace, a new skill I wasn’t even certain his father could now match, while I hacked and cut my way through each engagement.

  The calm I so desperately needed eluded me completely. My breathing grew more ragged, my right arm ached with the effort of holding a defensive position and Sparrow struggled just as much, our synchronicity gone.

  The soldier to my left sliced downward and I arched backward, trying desperately to avoid being cleaved in two. The enemy smelt my weakness. They just wanted Galahad alive, if I died that was a bonus and it would break Galahad’s mind because of the bonding.

  I was losing. I blocked the next strike, badly and the point of my opponent’s sword cut through my gambeson’s sleeve. It was instantly soaked in blood. My left arm dropped, empty of life, the damage complete.

  “Severus, I am so sorry,” I murmured. I stared toward Galahad, the look of utter desperation in his face made me realise he understood my predicament and couldn’t do a damned thing to save me. To save us. Without the bugleweed I was nothing.

  My enemy raised his sword to pierce my left side. I couldn’t twist far enough and Sparrow was trapped on the right, unable to move away. I was going to die.

  The scream, the likes of which hadn’t been heard in Albion for an eon, filled the sky.

  Four of the horses reared in utter terror and bolted, throwing their riders. Sparrow screamed in fear but stood his ground, Sherriff charged into us.

  “What the fucking hell?” Galahad yelled, trying to calm his horse.

  I looked toward the crest of the hill. Severus stood, his horse next to him, calm and patient. My lover’s arms were outstretched and from the centre of his being came the great, vast shadow of the White Dragon.

  The huge scaled creature reared its head and screamed into the morning sky once again, the vast wings, white and shining, whipped forward. Sparrow panicked and reared. I rode him down and tightened my grip on his mouth preventing him from racing forward. Sherriff backed into us, seeking comfort and safety from the vision before us.

  Galahad, more aware of his surroundings than me, because all I could see was the dragon pouring out of Severus, saved my life by killing another of the soldiers. The dragon’s eyes, the same as Torvec’s, the only thing about him that had true colour, a blue, vivid in the noble reptilian head, focused on me for a moment and I felt the quiver of desire burning my blood.

  “Torvec,” I whispered.

  The mighty head reached its apex and plunged down toward the soldiers still alive, all but a few were staring at the dragon in fear and awe. The jaws opened and it wasn’t fire to burst forth but a wind of such intensity that we watched it flay the flesh from the bones of our enemies. One moment we were surrounded by The Lady’s silent soldiers, the next we witnessed the flesh being peeled from the bones of our enemies. The horses were unharmed. We were untouched. The soldiers were gone to dust within moments. The dragon raised its great head once more and screamed at the sky, reminding the world of the power that occupied Albion before the fey were a dream within the thoughts of the gods.

  Once done the mighty beast calmed, the wings folding back against the long body, the long tail passive, the huge clawed feet still and he pushed his nose toward Sparrow.

  The horse trembled under me.

  That vast and knowing gaze stared into my soul. His forked tongue flicked out and licked up my left arm.

  “Ouch,” I said. The big blue eyes changed and I could swear he was laughing at me. I looked down at the wound on my arm and it began to close. The dragon lifted his left forearm and winced. Once more Torvec took my wound into his body and I healed instantly.

  “Torvec...” I whispered in awe and longing.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The great head pushed forward again and breathed into my face, just as a horse does, and I reached up to touch the nose. The large blue eyes, with their elongated irises dilated heavily and moved back before I could reach his face.

  “Torvec,” I repeated, utterly mystified.

  “Holt,” Galahad said quietly and warily. I glanced at him and saw real fear in his eyes. Of course he and Torvec weren’t known for their happy-go-lucky relationship and the knight was clearly uncertain of the dragon’s intentions. “I think you need to see to Severus.”

  I frowned and looked up the hill and toward my lover. Severus had collapsed to his knees and he bent backward as if in terrible pain. The dragon’s great head turned to look at the small man.

  “Let him go, Torvec,” I said.

  The dragon’s eyes narrowed and he lifted his head once more to the sky, releasing one of those terrible screams.

  Galahad raised his sword. “I’ll not sacrifice Severus,” he warned.

  I held my hand out in a gesture of peace. “Torvec, I need him,” I said. “If you burn him out, if he dies, we are lost to you forever.”

  The large head bowed down as if in grief and I watched the vast body slowly disperse in the soft morning breeze. Wisps of the White Dragon’s shade floated away, the huge blue eyes closed and vanished slowly.

  “Severus,” Galahad called out as my lover collapsed completely into the dirt on the road. We raced the horses up the hill and I was dismounting before Sparrow stopped, running the last few paces to drop before Severus.

  “Oh, gods, wake up,” I muttered, lifting him from the ground. Galahad knelt on the other side of him and raised a flask of water to his mouth.

  “Come on, Severus. Come on,” he muttered repeatedly.

  I checked the big pulse in my lover’s neck. “I can’t feel anything. His heart has stopped.”

  Galahad and I shared a silent moment of panic before we both set to work. I lay him down in the road, pulled open the neck of his gambeson and began pumping his chest. All experienced soldiers knew a set of basic procedures that could save a brother’s life in an emergency, and of course, the fey could heal.

  “You can’t call him back, Holt. He’s too far gone,” Galahad said.

  “I can and I bloody well will.”

  “Not without the power the weed gives you...” he said quietly.

  The tears began. “Do something, Galahad. Please, do something.”

  “I am not a healer. I may make things worse.”

  “He’s dying how can it get worse?” I asked, almost screaming in frustration.

  Galahad nodded, he knelt behind Severus’ head and lifted it into his lap, placing his hands on either side of my lover’s face. I watched as Galahad closed his eyes and I felt the bonding between us drop away leaving me with a terrible sense of vertigo. Bile rose in my mouth and I started to tremble. Galahad’s breathing deepened and he frowned hard with his eyes shut. Whispered words filled the air between them but I didn’t understand them and Galahad began to sweat.

  We were losing Severus. I was losing Severus. I was losing him because Torvec had to come through him to save me and Galahad. I only needed saving because I was too weak and too dependent on a drug to be of any use in a fight. I was going to lose...

  Galahad cried out, Severus gasped and his back arched, his eyes opening wide. They were golden.

  “Albion,” he managed to say before slumping back against Galahad.

  I panicked once more, assuming the worse until I found his pulse beating strongly in his neck. He was unconscious but alive. Galahad breathed heavily and finally opened his eyes. He trembled as if fr
om the cold, despite the morning sun.

  “I need you,” he whispered.

  “Anything, you know that,” I said and I reached out for him, touching his pale thin face.

  The bonding flared to life and I felt Galahad inside me, dominating me with a grace and power I’d never known before. I stared into his dark eyes and saw the same flecks of gold I’d seen in Lancelot’s long ago.

  “You’ve met her?” I asked him.

  “I have,” Galahad admitted.

  I swallowed hard. “What happened?”

  His jaw bunched with the tension in his body. “The Lady has changed the rules on us. I must become the king Albion needs now. We are to go into the wood below and I must face the trials of leadership.”

  I paused for a moment considering the implications. “We are weak. Severus hasn’t woken up and we are under attack, what more can we do? We should not go blindly into that woodland, we should return to The City and get some help.”

  “I have no choice, Holt,” he said. The gravity of the situation we faced scared me more than the armed men of moments before. How on earth were we going to manage this feat of mental and physical ingenuity? The trials were hard enough; testing the competitors physically by ensuring they had endurance, testing their mental capacity for problem solving and of course testing their emotional strength – their compassion, forgiveness and leadership skills.

  “Galahad...” I could see he knew he wasn’t strong enough and this would likely shatter his mind or body.

  “You and Severus should return to The City in case I don’t make it. I must face this alone,” he said.

  “Alone?” I pulled Severus into my body, cradling him, trying to protect myself from Galahad’s foolishness. “You can’t do this alone.”

  “And I can’t do it with you either, my friend.” Galahad touched my hand the bonding flashed once more, making us both start.

  “We are stronger together,” I said.

  “The trials are for one and one only,” he said.

  “We are stronger together,” I repeated.

  Galahad’s gaze dropped to Severus and he stared at the young man for a long time. “I wish none of this was necessary,” he whispered, taking Severus’ hand and kissing the back. “I wish we could just go home, curl up together and sleep for a month.”

  I placed a hand on his in solidarity.

  “I have to go, Holt,” he said. “I have to go alone. I have to face The Lady’s plans alone.”

  He rose and I honestly didn’t know what to do. I held Severus in my arms, an unconscious body, and I watched Galahad mount Sherriff.

  “Please, don’t leave us. She won’t send anyone else after us after Torvec’s intervention. Not yet. Please, Galahad.”

  His eyes were dark, grim and so very sad. We were parting once again and there were no guarantees we’d see each other in the future.

  “Return to Camelot. I will find you. Tell my sisters they were in my thoughts constantly and I miss them. Tell Morgan...” Galahad sighed heavily. He knew something he wasn’t telling me about. “Tell Morgan that she can do it, she can do anything she sets her mind to, anything, Holt. You must understand that, anything.”

  “Galahad...” I couldn’t place Severus in the dirt on the road to go to my friend. I couldn’t choose between them. If Severus were awake...

  The painfully thin, shorn headed, Knight of Camelot rode away from me and toward the forest.

  My breathing was painful. I hugged Severus and the agony of watching Galahad ride away was too much. My eyes closed and I bowed my head to hide the hurt.

  “Holt?” Severus moved in my arms.

  I drew back a little. “Severus?”

  His eyes were no longer golden, they’d returned to their natural colours. “Where’s Galahad?”

  “Gone to do the trials. I cannot leave you. I cannot help him. We have to return home without him,” I said.

  Severus struggled upright and out of my arms. “No, no, Holt. You have to go. You should have gone. You should be with him. He knows that. He knows; what the fuck is he doing?”

  “What are you talking about? You aren’t making any sense.”

  Galahad was cantering toward the forest, moving with smooth confidence and too quickly for me to catch.

  “You have to be with him. I... I have to...” Severus’ eyes filled with tears. “I have to go back to The City. I... Torvec. Albion said he’s taken too much from me. If he returns to me, which he will if I am near you, he will kill me... I have to go back.”

  I glanced down the hill again at Galahad.

  “Go,” Severus commanded.

  “But you are alone.”

  “I am never alone, Holt. I always have you and I will be much safer without you and Galahad in tow,” he said, smiling.

  I reached for him. We kissed briefly and with such passion. “I love you,” I told him.

  “I know. I will always love you and I shall wait for you both in The City.”

  “Don’t go to Camelot. My sister...”

  “I know, Holt. Morgan and Nim will help me.” He smiled for me again and kissed me once more. I rose and rushed toward one of the horses the soldiers had used. I wasn’t going to take Sparrow into that forest and besides, I trusted my horse to help protect Severus without me being there.

  While we galloped headlong toward Galahad’s fast disappearing back I wondered what on earth we’d face in the forest. The trials were something Lancelot only spoke about when he had to and my Uncle Tancred never talked about them. I only hoped Galahad and I were a better team but I doubted it somehow.

  When Galahad reached the tree line I yelled and reached out with the bonding. Galahad turned but Sherriff didn’t stop moving and he reached the trees, vanishing into the darkness. I cursed and followed him, knowing Galahad would slow and stop, waiting for me and doubtless preparing himself for an argument about me returning to Severus.

  I hit the forest moments after Galahad, realising he’d found a path into the large woodland and pulled the horse to a halt. I could see almost half a league along a wide, well maintained woodland path and Galahad wasn’t on it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I turned the horse around, looking for Severus and the field I’d just crossed. It wasn’t there. A perfect woodland path lay behind me, the wind dancing with the full summer broadleaf foliage making it shiver in the light. The silver birch lining the path flickered, light and dark flashing as the breeze whispered around me. The silence was just that much more intimidating than it should have been because I should be arguing with...

  “Galahad?” I called out, just in case he and Sherriff were hiding behind a tree playing children’s games.

  Nothing. I began to feel the bonding ache inside me like it had when The Lady tore him from me. “Galahad!” I shouted. “Where the fuck are you?” The sound disturbed absolutely nothing, not a woodland creature or bird.

  “Fuck!” I bellowed at the sky, just visible through the canopy. My horse, his nerves already taut from facing a dragon and being ridden by a stranger away from his herd, arched his back and bucked violent.

  The technique was almost perfect and he succeeded in dislodging me but not quite throwing me off. So he tried again. I pushed my weight into him, tried to drag his head up from between his knees and dug my heels into his ribs to force him forward.

  It worked, he decided running was better than fighting and I simply didn’t have the strength to stop him. With the bonding burning a hole in my guts and heart I couldn’t maintain him myself and deal with my general physical decrepitude. Torvec might have cured my withdrawal from bugleweed as well as the hole in my arm.

  We galloped through the forest, along the perfect path and I allowed the poor beast to run himself out. It didn’t take long; The Lady’s soldiers weren’t exactly kind to their mounts. When he calmed, I relaxed and began murmuring soft words to him, stroking his sweaty neck. The horse just trembled under me, so I dismounted and we walked further into the wood,
the animal steaming quietly beside me.

  “We must have covered the best part of a league already,” I said to the horse. “Where the hell is he?”

  Of course my heart knew exactly where he’d gone – nowhere, we were being separated by the trials. I could almost taste the magic in the air now I’d begun to calm along with the horse. Despite the quiet and the all-pervading sense of peace around me, the ‘otherness’ of the place just continued to grow. I was being watched and the light of the day was dimming too quickly.

  “Gods, I miss Severus,” I muttered, stroking the horse’s nose. He snorted into my palm and tried to rub his sweaty head against my gambeson. While I fought him off thoughts raced through my mind. If I was facing the trials as well as Galahad because I’d stumbled into them after him, I was sorely under prepared. I knew of them but I was not trained and I was not fey. They’d have killed my father and he was the White Hart of Camelot. I was nothing.

  No, I couldn’t play their game. I didn’t want to be king of anything, never mind Albion. Therefore I had to find a way out of the trials or a way to Galahad.

  “That means using your brains not your brawn, Holt,” I muttered.

  The only magic within me was borrowed from Galahad and Severus due to his connection to Torvec. If they were pulling Galahad from me then I needed to do the opposite. I needed to move toward him. If Severus could feel Galahad through me there had to be some kind of resonance I could tap into, pulling Galahad to me.

  “What do you think, horse? Willing to stand there while I try to find my friend through some mystical bollocks?” I asked the beast next to me. The horse huffed in my face. I took him to the side of the track, tied him to a tree so he could eat the grass and sat down, my back to the same tree. Once the horse stopped exploring this strange new behaviour from his new companion, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

  Time drifted. I continued to try to meditate into the connection I shared with Galahad and reach out to him. More time drifted and I realised the ground I sat on was making my leather hose damp. The tree was set at the wrong angle for me to be upright and comfortable and I needed to pee.