With My Last Breath, Book Three (10 page)

Lucan raised his lance and deftly knocked Percivale from his seat. The crowd erupted into cheers and Lucan rode directly to my feet, taking off his helmet.

‚For you, my lady!' he called. I blushed and blew him a kiss. The crowd roared once more and Guinevere laughed, while Lucan retreated to help his brother-in-arms out of the dirt.

I glanced toward the end of the arena to find Mordred tensed and at attention, waiting for the signal to begin. As the newest knight, it was his turn to face Lancelot, the king’s champion. Even though this was simply an exhibition, tradition must be adhered to.

Mordred’s eyes were trained with razor sharp precision on my father as he dropped his visor and something about his stare put me instantly on edge. Everyone else was jovial and light-hearted. But Mordred was icy and tense. The hackles rose on my neck as the black scarf dropped in the wind.

They tore off for each other and as Lancelot raised his lance to knock Mordred from his horse in a sweeping motion, Mordred raised his lance as a javelin. While Lancelot’s arm was raised, Mordred impaled my father beneath his arm, in one of the few spots where armor was vulnerable.

The crowd gasped in unison and Guinevere jumped from her seat, her hands covering her mouth as Lancelot tumbled from his saddle.

‚Mother, don’t,' I warned as she hurried for the stairs. She ignored me and rushed into the arena. We were closer than anyone else, so we were able to get there more quickly than Arthur. He too hurried for his champion’s side, but Guinevere reached him first.

Easing off his helmet, she murmured, ‚Are you alright?'

‚Of course,' he nodded slowly. ‚It is but a scratch.'

Pushing in beside my mother, I lifted his arm and examined the wound. Mordred’s lance was embedded a few inches beneath Lancelot’s right arm. I swallowed hard. A mortal could bleed to death from such an injury.

Mordred had yet to dismount, instead sitting above us, the evening sun casting his shadow over where Lancelot lay.

‚This was an exhibition!' I snapped up at him. ‚What were you thinking?'

His face was meant to be sympathetic, I’m sure, but to me he seemed impassive as he apologized to the King.

‚Your highness, I apologize. I meant no serious injury. It was a slip of the lance. I have only the utmost respect for your champion and I beg your forgiveness, uncle.'

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Arthur clenched his jaw and remained silent as he knelt beside Guinevere.

Gripping the lance firmly, he wrenched it from my father’s side. Lancelot groaned and blood gushed from the wound. I quickly took off my cloak and wadded it up against the injury, hoping to staunch the blood.

Arthur called to the knights, ‚Come- bring your shields. We must carry him inside.'

The knights quickly brought their shields and laid four of them on the ground in a line. They transferred my father onto the makeshift gurney and then carefully carried him toward the castle with Mordred straggling behind them. Arthur turned to his squire.

‚Find the medicine woman,' he instructed. ‚And hurry.'

The boy took off running as Arthur studied his wife. She still sat in the dust, her skirts tangled around her legs, next to a pool of Lancelot’s blood. Her hands were visibly shaking, her face pale.

‚Are you alright, my queen?' Arthur asked in concern, reaching down to help her stand. ‚Your concern for my champion is admirable. You have a very kind heart.'

She nodded and allowed him to pull him into an embrace, and she laid her head onto his shoulder. He patted her back gently for a moment, before stepping back, gazing down at her. His blue eyes were full of emotion.

‚I must see to Lancelot,' he said. ‚But I will see you at dinner.' He looked to me.

‚Can you see her to her chambers, Heleyne?' I nodded.

He strode quickly from the arena, but as he retreated, I noticed the strangest look on his face and my heart stilled for a moment. It seemed that perhaps, my mother had given herself away.

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With My Last Breath, Book Three

Chapter Eleven

‚By all that is holy!' my father thundered. I smiled under my breath. I could hear him all the way down the stone hall. The medicine woman had already attended to him by cleansing and dressing his wound before she decreed that he would live.

But he was pissed.

Apparently, my father wasn’t enjoying the limitations of mortals, in particular the slow healing process. I knocked lightly on his door and found him propped in his bed, while a page tried to help him into a clean tunic.

‚I do not need a shirt!' he yelled in agitation. The boy shrank away.

‚But sir, you must be dressed. Particularly in the company of a lady…' he trailed off at the look on my father’s face.

‚I do not give a rat’s front teeth about decorum right now,' my father enunciated clearly and loudly. ‚I have a hole in my side! Have you not noticed?'

I smiled and motioned for the boy to leave.

‚I can assist the kind knight,' I told him gently. ‚Why don’t you bring something for him to eat?'

The page more than happily took his exit while Lancelot scowled. ‚I am not hungry, either,' he informed me, his expression dark and sulking.

I stepped closer and rounded the bed, my skirts trailing behind me with a rustle.

‚Um, you do know that you are the god of war, right?' I asked with a raised eyebrow. My father stared at me for a moment before exploding into laughter, holding his side as he did.

‚Maybe,' he acknowledged finally. ‚But the god of war should not be reduced to weak mortal form. This is unacceptable…and painful.'

I patted his leg. ‚Perhaps,' I agreed. ‚But you’ve done it for thousands of years and have been none the worse for it.'

‚None the worse?' he asked incredulously. ‚Have you not noticed the hole in my side?'

‚So we’re back to that, are we?' I grinned. ‚You’ll be fine. My worry now is not your injury. It is Mordred. He tried to kill you and make it look like an accident. What did he call it? A ‘slip of the lance’?'

Lancelot instantly sobered. ‚Yes. He did. And he will not live to do it again.'

‚Father,' I cautioned. ‚You know that you may not seek retribution. Not right now. His death isn’t meant for you.'

My father’s glare was dark enough to eclipse the sun. He didn’t intimidate me. I shrugged. ‚You know it’s true.'

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He sighed heavily, stretching one leg gingerly in front of him. ‚Maybe,' he acknowledged and then changed the subject. ‚How is your mother? Is she worried sick?'

He actually sounded pleased by the prospect. I rolled my eyes.

‚She was,' I offered. ‚But then she remembered who you are and how strong you are and she realized that you would be fine. She did send me to check on you, though.'

He settled back into his pillows with a satisfied expression, reaching over to pick up an apple from his nightstand.

‚You’re both treading a thin line,' I told seriously, as he took a bite. ‚Arthur noticed that mother was the first to your side in the arena. I saw it on his face.'

For once, my father took what I said seriously and I watched him ponder it.

‚You know,' he said thoughtfully. ‚I never thought I would say this, but I actually like your mother’s husband. He’s a good man.'

‚Yes, he is,' I agreed. ‚And you will both break his heart.'

‚Perhaps,' he replied. ‚But I won’t enjoy it.'

‚Like that matters,' I muttered beneath my breath. ‚Okay. I’ve checked on you.

You’re fine, but for a foul mood. I will report back to mother and then I will continue to search for the sword. I only wish to find it and leave here. We can leave Camelot behind us and never think of it again. What say you?'

‚I say that you’d better be jesting,' Arthur said as he stepped into the room. My gaze flew to his face and he studied me curiously. ‚Leave Camelot? You can’t be serious.'

I nodded. ‚Of course, your highness. I was simply telling Sir Lancelot that with his luck of late, he might be better served to ride away from Camelot and never look back.

But of course I was simply jesting. Where would the Roundtable be without your champion?'

He nodded and I curtsied.

‚I’ll take my leave, your highness. I simply wished to check on Sir Lancelot’s injuries. He appears to be back to himself.'

Arthur nodded and turned his attention back to his knight and I slipped from the door, pausing to lean against it as I gathered my thoughts. I had almost given us away to Arthur. I really would have to be more careful.

The hall was empty, but for me. This section of the castle contained bedrooms, all of which were usually empty during the day. The queen’s bower was here, a quiet place where she was supposed to sew and do womanly things, although I didn’t think that Guinevere had used it even once since we’d been here.

Down the hall from the bower was the solar, the long room used for entertainment for the royal family. Court jesters and musicians performed for the family in the Courtney Cole 66

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evening hours, after they had retired from dinner and before bed. It too was empty now.

A thought occurred to me and I ducked inside. Heavy chests lined the far wall.

They were intricately carved from oak, each standing three feet tall. Kneeling next to one, I removed the velvet table-runner from the top and unlatched the clasp, lifting the heavy lid.

Thick tapestries were folded inside. I rifled through them, feeling for anything metal within their depths. When I got to the bottom, I even checked to see if the chest had a false bottom. It did not. I sighed and began refolding the tapestries, wishing to leave it as I had found it.

‚Are you looking for something?'

Merlin’s quiet voice came from behind me and I spun around. He was standing with his arms folded, silently observing me. I had no idea how long he had been watching me.

‚Yes,' I answered calmly. ‚A table-runner. And lucky for me, I have found several.'

He remained impassive as I finished folding the soft material and closed the lid of the chest.

‚Is there anything else I can help you find?' he asked me, his black eyes glittering.

‚No,' I replied. ‚There is nothing that you could find that I cannot, Merlin. I am as familiar with this castle as you are.'

‚Really?' he asked, his lip curling with amusement. ‚And have you ever been
here
?'

Instantly, we were standing in the bowels of the castle…in the oubliette, the most feared and treacherous room of the castle. Situated in the dungeons, it was a small dark room where prisoners were sometimes left to die. It was devoid entirely of light, for there were no windows. Thankfully for me, Merlin held a torch in his hand.

The smell was overwhelming and sickening and as I glanced around me, with my hand over my mouth, I saw why. A partially decomposed prisoner was in the corner, flies buzzed around him as squirming white maggots covered open wounds.

His eyes were open and glassy, while a few maggots even clung to the yellowed, crusty corners. As I watched one crawl from his slack mouth, nausea welled up and I couldn’t control it. I bent over and vomited onto the floor. The smell of this place coupled with the sight of the maggots was simply too much to bear. My pregnant mortal body couldn’t handle it.

Once I had emptied my stomach, I stood once more, wiping my mouth with my arm and facing Merlin.

‚Why did you bring me here?' I asked. ‚I don’t wish to be here.'

‚No of course you don’t,' he agreed. ‚No one does.'

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He held his torch above our head, illuminating the .

‚Look above us, Heleyne. See that small hatch? That is how prisoners are lowered in here, with a rope. And that is how food and water is occasionally brought in as well, until that time which they simply decide not to do it anymore and the prisoner is left to starve. Or die from his wounds, whichever happens first.'

‚Does Arthur know of this place?' I asked as I looked around once more.

Condensation dripped in the corners, dropping annoyingly to the floor. Listening to that long enough would be enough to make someone crazy.

Merlin shrugged. ‚Maybe, maybe not. His father certainly used it often enough.

Although Arthur may not personally authorize its use. I believe Kay is the one, as the castle steward, who oversees it now.'

I froze in disbelief, thinking of Kay’s friendly smile.

‚Kay knows of this place?' I breathed.

Merlin scoffed at me. ‚Heleyne, these men are knights. They are not lambs. They do what they do for the better of the kingdom. What do you think they should do with murderers? Slap them on the hands?'

‚No,' I muttered, unconsciously rubbing my stomach. ‚I suppose not. It just surprised me. Kay is so gentle.'

‚Yes,' Merlin agreed. ‚He can be. And he can also be deadly. That is a good lesson for you, keeper.'

‚And that is?' I raised an eyebrow.

‚People are not always what they seem. These knights are chivalrous and brave, but they all possess the ability to be deadly and cruel if need be. Even your beloved Lucan.'

I hated that thought, but I knew it was the truth. It was the nature of a warrior.

‚Why are we here?' I asked again.

‚I just wanted you to see it,' he said. ‚I wanted to remind you of that very thing.

That is all.'

‚Then, if we are finished here, I’d like to return upstairs.'

He nodded and we were once again standing in the solar and I took a deep breath of fresh air.

‚I’ll leave you to your hunting,' he told me as he walked toward the door. ‚I hope you find what you are looking for.'

After he left, I followed him to the door, making sure that he was indeed gone. The halls were empty, so I rushed back to the remaining chests, and hunted through the last three quickly.

There was nothing but banquet linens, tapestries and silverware. I slumped to the floor with a sigh. No sword. Where in this kingdom was it? My very existence depended on finding it.

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‚Heleyne, I’ve been searching for you,' Guinevere called as she padded softly through the door. ‚Merlin told me that I could find you in here. What are you doing?

He said you were searching for something.'

Her arched eyebrow raised even further.

‚I’ve searched through this castle, mother,' I murmured. ‚I’ve even just been to the oubliette. There is nothing here.' My shoulders slumped. ‚We’ve got to find it.' I heard the desperation in my voice and I hated it, but I couldn’t rid myself of it.

My mother rubbed my shoulder comfortingly.

‚We’ll find it, daughter,' she replied softly. ‚Do not stress yourself so. You must try to remain calm for your child.'

My hand fluttered to my belly. I had forgotten for a moment that a baby rested within me. I hadn’t yet felt it move, so it was easy to forget, but for the occasional bouts of nausea.

‚Where shall we look next?' I asked. ‚How will we travel to Arthur’s parents’ land without someone wondering why?'

‚We’ll sort it out,' she replied absently, staring out the window as she spoke. I followed her gaze to find Arthur and his knights in the courtyard. Lancelot had just limped in to join them.

‚What a fool!' Guinevere muttered. ‚Can he not just recognize that he is but a mortal right now?'

I watched him for a moment, observing how even though he limped, he moved just a little too fluidly for someone who had just sustained a near mortal wound.

‚He has healed himself,' I announced quietly. ‚Look at him. He moves about too easily. He healed his wound. Perhaps not fully, but enough that it no longer causes him pain.'

My mother shook her head. ‚What a cheat,' she grinned as she glanced back at me.

‚What, daughter? You cannot help but admit his gall.'

‚It’s not gall, it is stupidity,' I answered. ‚What if Arthur sends the old woman to check on his wound? And she will find it healed. Then what?'

‚We’ll worry about that when the time comes,' she answered without concern.

‚I’m sure it will not be an issue. Instead of worrying yourself over such things, let us think about where next to search for the sword. That is enough to worry about.'

I nodded and absently watched my father interact with the knights. He glowered at Mordred, but did not say anything to the knight who had tried to kill him. I had to give him credit for that. I knew that he wanted to run him through with his sword.

‚Time passes us by,' I whispered, palming my slowly growing belly. ‚And with every second, my love remains in the wastelands, cold and alone. Please… let us just find the sword and save him. In doing so, we will save us all.'

Guinevere turned her gaze from the courtyard and agreed.

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