Excalibur Rising (33 page)

          Now she saw that instead of disappearing, Ryan had flung himself back into the fray, screaming words of warning and scattering Arthur’s knights as they prepared to go back through the gate and into their own world. 
     The horses milled around, whinnying and tossing their heads and drawing the attention of every helicopter pilot, and every sightseer along the road to the dam.  And if they saw the horses, then they most certainly saw Arthur and his knights.  She could imagine the paparazzi focusing their telephoto lenses as the black stallion trotted up to Arthur and allowed the king to vault onto his back.  There was absolutely nothing inconspicuous about the broad chested figure of the High King, resplendent in his red surcoat emblazoned with the Pendragon emblem, and with Excalibur held high as he gestured for the other knights to mount.
     “What?” Violet screamed at Ryan. “What are you doing?”
     “They can’t go through,” Ryan shouted.  “Mordricus is waiting on the other side with an army.  He’ll slaughter them as soon as they arrive.”
     “What about Sir Melion?” asked Rowan who had her hand on the grey’s reins and was listening to every word.
      “Too late,” said Ryan briefly. 
     “You told that man not to kill me,” Violet said.
      “Yes, I did,” said Ryan.  He looked around. “Where is he?”
     “I think he’s dead,” said Violet.
     Rowan tapped her staff impatiently against Ryan’s leg.
     “Concentrate,” she said, “and save your reunion for later.”
     “Oh it’s not a ______”
     “I don’t care what it is,” said Rowan. “What are we to do with the king?  We have to leave this place; there is no place for him in this world.  Arthur will have to fight.  How many men does Mordricus have?”
     “Too many,” said Ryan.  “He has his whole army.”
     “And Arthur’s army?”
     “They are gathered at Camlan,” said Ryan.  “Arthur will have to lead them.  We can’t waste any more time.  All you need to know is that there is one more gate, and I can show you where it is.”
     “Is it close?”
     “Very close,” said Ryan.
     “The horse gate?” said Rowan.
     “Yes,” said Ryan.
     “But we are not horses,” said Rowan.
     “I met a man,” said Ryan, “who was more rock than man, but he could still speak.”
     “Merlin,” said Rowan.
     “Yes,” said Ryan.  “He is weak, but he can hold the gate open for us.”
     The king was growing impatient.  His knights had all found mounts and had gathered around him.  Behind them the mist from the gate rose in a swirling cloud, but their attention was on the oncoming mechanical beasts, the flying dragons.
     “They’re all going to get themselves killed,” said Violet.
     Rowan took a deep breath and then struck the ground with her staff, and a bolt of blue lightning struck the king’s shoulder.  He turned angrily but Rowan held up an imperious hand, and spoke swiftly.  She pointed to the path that the horses had taken along the hillside, and the mounted knights began to move.
      A brown horse with thin delicate legs pranced towards them.
      Rowan turned to Elaine. “He is for you,” she said. 
      Violet watched in envy as Elaine vaulted lightly onto the horse, turned his head and brought him into line with the other horses.
     Another horse broke from the line, an old black horse with a grey muzzle and whip marks along her back and flanks.
     “I think she’s come for you, Lady Rowan,” said Ryan.
     Rowan smiled. “Yes, I think she has,” she said. “How very kind of her.”
     She looked around and spotted Freddie who had been standing and staring open-mouthed at everything that was happening.
     “Would you mind?” said Rowan.
     “Oh,” said Freddie, “no, not at all.”
     He cupped his hands beneath Rowan’s sneakered left foot and boosted her up onto the horse where she perched sidesaddle.
     All the time, the news helicopters had been approaching ever closer to the steep hillside, risking a fiery crash for the sake of an exclusive close up.  As Rowan trotted away, Violet looked up and directly into the lens of a news camera held by a cameraman who was leaning perilously from the open door of a blue and white helicopter. She saw the camera pan around to film the line of horses that now streamed across the hillside.
     In the valley below an ambulance had succeeded in reaching the wrecked limo and she saw Molly Walker being extricated from the back seat.  As the medics tried to help her into the ambulance, the professor waved them away and stood with her face uplifted, watching as her impossible dream came true, and she was given one brief glimpse of Arthur and his knights.
     Violet turned to Todd.  “We have to get out of here without anyone seeing us,” she said. “You have to keep the newspapers away from me.  I know you can hide my identity.  You can do your internet magic thing, can’t you?”
     “Oh Violet,” said Todd, “do you really think you’re going back to Key West?”
     “Of course,” said Violet.
     Todd shook his head. “You don’t belong here,” he said.
     “Violet?”
     Violet turned and looked at Ryan.  He sat easily on the grey mare, controlling her with no apparent effort.  He extended his hand.  “Are you coming?” he asked.
     “Coming where?” she asked.
     “To Camelot,” he said. 
     He smiled, a smile that she had never seen before, and her heart lurched.
      “Don’t you want to know who you really are?” he asked. “It’s now or never. The gate will close as soon as Arthur passes through.”
     “Just go,” said Todd, standing beside her and trying to urge her upwards with pressure on her elbow. “Don’t think about it, just go with him.” 
     Violet looked up at Ryan. This man, who sat his horse as comfortably as any of Arthur’s knights, and whose strong arm was extending an invitation to adventure, was not the cynical academic who had been forced upon her a week ago.  This was a different man, a man she didn’t know.
When the gate to Albion closed for the final time, he would be on one side and she would be on the other.  She would have her home in Key West, with its shady porches, cool sea breezes, and the comfort of familiar foods, and he would have Camelot. 
      Violet looked at the impossible height of the saddle and her own feet planted so firmly on the ground. How would he even lift her?  He would try, and she would fall.  No, it was better not to even try.
     Someone grasped her around the waist. 
     “Wait,” she protested, turning to find that Freddie was in the process of sweeping her off her feet.  He was a little red in the face and short of breath, but he was succeeding.
     “No waiting,” he gasped, as he dumped her onto the back of the grey.
      She instinctively flung her arms around Ryan’s waist.  The grey, impatient with waiting, gathered her energy and then released it in a burst of speed that sent her flying across the hillside with Violet clinging breathlessly to Ryan.
     She risked one backward glance but Freddie and Todd were already lost from sight.  They crested the hill and headed down into a deep valley enclosing a dark lake.  As the mist of Albion swirled around her, Violet grasped for the talisman, the red stone that would permit her to pass through the gate, but then realized that she had no need of a talisman.  She, Violet Chambray, child of Ariana, was already a daughter of Albion.
     She tightened her arms around Ryan’s waist. 
     Arthur held his mount in check and waited for them to pass and then he spurred his horse forward. 
     On the shore of the dark lake, a mossy stone shivered and moved, and sent a sighing incantation into the gentle breeze.
     “Cau'r drws” said the wind, and the last gate to Albion closed as the High King returned.

…to be continued.

If you enjoyed
Excalibur Rising
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