The Du Lac Legacy (Sons of Camelot Book 2)

by Sarah Luddington

  We crossed the yard and entered another small door, the guards still with us. At this point Captain Surek spoke with the man who must be the head jailer in the language of the desert tribes, not the Common tongue of Albion, and we were marched into the stinking bowels of the prison.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Grief and pain washed the walls in colours far darker than the soot from the torches that guttered fitfully. My anxiety levels increased with almost every step, the smell of foetid despair making my eyes water and Torvec gag. Narrow hallways, dark iron doors, filthy straw scattered on the ground. We passed cells which I knew could not have access to the natural light of the sun.

  Three turns to the left we made before the jailer stopped.

  “You will be here until The City has been informed and we are told how to transport you to them,” Captain Surek said.

  My breathing grew laboured and I glanced at the captain’s curved blade hanging on his left hip. Could I reach it in time?

  Torvec’s hand grazed the back of mine and a wave of peace washed through me. I found myself nodding and thanking the captain for his compassion and understanding.

  “If you would like to take this cell, I will see to it that your servant has the one next door,” he said.

  Torvec and I both stilled and the fake smile I wore vanished. “Together or not at all, Captain,” I said.

  He bowed slightly. “My Lord, I am sorry but I have been given orders. You are known to be dangerous –”

  “If you don’t place us in the same cell, you will learn how dangerous –” I stepped forward but Torvec grabbed my sleeve and pulled me back behind him with surprising ease. He stepped in front of me and I saw him touch the captain’s hand.

  “Everything is fine. You can place us in the same cell with no thought to us being dangerous. We will be perfect guests while we wait.” A feeling, like the one you have when a rope swing hits that perfect point before swishing back, lurched my stomach and the captain’s eyes closed for a moment. When they opened they were slightly fuzzy.

  “Of course, I know you will be the perfect guests,” he said and smiled.

  The jailer appeared confused by the new order but finally shrugged and opened the cell door. Torvec walked into the dark room and I followed, focusing only on his shoulders. The jailer sparked the torch in the room and closed the door behind him without a sound. The lock turned with complete silence. These were well maintained doors.

  “Alone at last,” Torvec said.

  I grunted, aware of the chains around my wrists.

  “I guess I could have wished for better conditions,” he continued.

  I looked at him, he stared at the flagstones. A mattress, of sorts, lay against the far wall of a cell ten foot by ten. Straw, several weeks old, covered parts of the floor and a bucket sat in the opposite corner.

  “What are you talking about?” I snapped.

  Torvec sighed heavily. “It was a joke, Holt. In poor taste perhaps, but just a joke.”

  I glared at him, which meant taking in his appearance properly. He stooped slightly, as if from exhaustion. His cheeks were hollow and his skin papery. A fine tremor ran through his body and his eyes weren’t focusing on me.

  “Are you alright?” I asked.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. I watched him move to the badly stuffed mattress and he sat slowly.

  “You don’t look it.”

  “So long as you are alright that’s all that matters to me,” he said and tried to smile.

  “Torvec, what did you do to that guard and how did you help me?” I asked.

  “You would not have coped if I hadn’t interfered. I know I promised not to but you needed my help. And the captain?” Torvec rubbed his eyes. “He needed to be convinced to allow us to be together. I can’t help you if I can’t see you.”

  “You’re pushing thoughts into people?”

  “I’m smoothing the troubled waters of your soul and yes, I’m pushing thoughts into people,” he admitted. “You can start shouting any time you like.”

  I didn’t shout; I just watched him for a moment. He looked profoundly unwell, his hands were now shaking and he clutched them to try to prevent the obvious weakness. His hair had grown slightly over the last few weeks and formed a soft short mane, rather than a white halo. He’d grown thinner if that were possible. I recognised the signs. I’d been around powerful fey most of my life and at some point they all over extended themselves.

  “Can I help, Torvec?” I asked quietly.

  He glanced up at me. “I’m fine.”

  I sat beside him, the waft of stale straw unpleasant. “No, you aren’t and you’ve been over-reaching whatever fey power you have for a long time. Can I help?”

  I sat like he did, hands and chains drooping between roughly crossed legs, our knees almost touching, but not quite.

  “Only if you allow physical contact and we’ve already decided that isn’t wise,” he said quietly.

  “Explain, Torvec.”

  “I can draw strength from your love for me, but you don’t love me, so please don’t humiliate me by making me beg,” he said. The quiet pain of his words tore at my heart.

  “It must have cost you a great deal to leave The Lady and come to me,” I said.

  “A small price, Sire,” he said, picking at some loose stitching on his faded and once colourful hose.

  “You owe me no fealty, Torvec. I am not your King,” I said.

  He didn’t reply and we slumped into silence for awhile. I considered his words and thought about the charge of murder The Lady placed at his door. I should imagine he fought his way out from her control and I’d seen the terrible destruction he could produce.

  I could continue to love a man who’d never want me. Or I could give Torvec a little compassion, help him to keep me calm and surrender a little more of myself to him in the process.

  There were worse people I could love.

  I placed a hand over his, the chains crashing together with a dull thunk. “Let me help, at least a little. I owe you that much.”

  His long slim fingers reached slowly for mine and stroked them gently. He leaned toward me and I moved slightly so he could place his head on my shoulder. I heard him sigh.

  I didn’t feel anything except comfortable warmth from having a companion beside me in such a dark place.

  “Come,” I said. “Let’s try to sleep, at least a little.” I removed my hands and lay down, lifting the chains over my head to give Torvec room to place his head on my chest.

  He looked at me for a moment, the fear obvious. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you hate me any more than you do already.”

  “I don’t hate you, Torvec. After all, I don’t really know you, do I?”

  His sad eyes became tragic and before he could weep I pulled his sleeve to force him to lie down with his head on my shoulder and his bound wrists trying to find somewhere close to be able to hold me at least a little.

  We didn’t speak and I think we both dozed for a while at least.

  “Holt? Holt, wake up!”

  “Wha...”

  “You were dreaming, it wasn’t good,” Torvec said.

  “I can’t see,” I said, the panic clear.

  “It’s alright, we have no window and the torch has died. I can create a small light,” he said.

  “No, no, it’s alright, I’m not so good in the dark at the moment and sleeping is a bit of a problem. Don’t waste the energy.”

  I felt his breath on my neck and my body remembered how gentle his kisses were on my skin.

  “How much of what I know about your life is true?” I asked softly.

  He moved slightly and his lips tickled my neck. “None of it unless you count the fact that everything I told you about my past I wanted to be the real truth, rather than the sad miserable existence I’ve endured. The things I told you about how I felt and what I wanted for the future were true. Pathetic, aren’t I?”

  His expressive voice cut through t
he barriers I tried to keep between us. I might love Galahad and Torvec might have tricked me into thinking I’d fallen in love with him faster than smoke forms around flames, but something in him chimed with something in me and I wanted more.

  “I cannot pretend to understand your life, Torvec, or even understand what you are, but I think we are stuck with each other and if you have the time and patience, maybe I need to learn more about you.”

  “And Galahad?” he asked in a small voice.

  I flexed my bound arms around his body, holding him closer for a moment. “Galahad is not for me. Perhaps this is how it’s meant to be.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  I shifted slightly and my lips touched his brow. He gasped and rose up a little, his breath caressed my cheek and I turned my head so our lips found their match in the pitch blackness. He trembled and that small whimper escaped him while we did nothing more than allow a tender and chaste kiss to be shared.

  It felt like warm fire and soft ice.

  “I love you,” he said, the bard’s voice a caress.

  I’d said the same to him before but I didn’t know if it was the truth. I knew I loved Galahad but when he hadn’t returned the words it hurt. I remained silent, uncertain of what to say, so I kissed him again, this time with more. His lips parted easily to my request and he moved to lie over me, one thigh between mine.

  I pulled away from his mouth. “Steady, Torvec. I can’t give much more.” The panic began when I felt his cock harden against my hip.

  He slid off my body instantly. “Sorry, Holt. I’m really sorry. I should have known.”

  “How could you?”

  Silence.

  “You know?” I asked.

  “No lies between us anymore, King of Camelot,” he said, now still and quiet. “I feel it all, felt it all. Every punch, every touch, every... thrust...”

  My throat closed and coldness swept through me. “Did you feel Galahad?”

  “The moment you touched him I knew I’d lost you,” he said quietly. “It’s why I left without telling you the truth to your face. It hurt too deeply.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. I manipulated you with spells and lies. You reacted naturally to the real object of your affections.”

  “You are generous,” I said, finding his fingers and tangling mine with his in the dark.

  “I had hoped I was wrong. I’ve never loved before. I hoped the knowledge of your life away from me was my imagination and fear, but when I saw you in the tavern, I knew... I knew I was too late to save you and all those terrible feelings were living inside you.”

  I felt tears tracking down the sides of my face. I lay in the dark on my back in the mouldy straw and wept silently. Torvec remained in my arms, still and quiet once more, letting me grieve another layer of pain away in what privacy he could allow.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I slept and woke with soft breathing next to me. Torvec had untangled himself from me at some point and I felt his back against my flank. The iron cuffs were heavy and uncomfortable but I turned onto my shoulder and wriggled into his body. He murmured softly and I kissed his neck, the hair gentle against my lips and rough skin.

  A wash of emotion caught me off guard. I wanted to tell him I loved him.

  “No!” he cried out and rolled away from me, onto the cold floor. I heard his chain scraping against the stone. “Holt, I’m sorry, I... I was asleep. My control slipped... I didn’t mean...”

  I frowned, unseen in the dark. “That was you? I wanted to say that because of you?”

  “Forgive me, Sire.” He moved but I couldn’t see a damn thing.

  “Torvec, slow down. How do you know it was you that caused the emotional response?”

  “I don’t... I can’t... I felt...”

  “You felt my desire and assumed it was your fault?”

  “It must be, it cannot be an assumption.” I heard his fear. He was terrified of losing me.

  I moved onto my knees. “I hate this dark, I wish I could see you.”

  “I’m glad you can’t,” he said. I could tell he was as far away from me as possible.

  “Come here, Torvec. Perhaps I need you, just as you need me.”

  A noise from outside the cell dragged my attention away from Torvec. “Come here, now,” I ordered. He moved and I felt him come toward me. A hatch opened in the door and light flooded into the room from outside, making me blink. Something came through the hatch. I glanced at Torvec, his eyes were extremely narrow but his skin appeared smoother and health radiated from him.

  The hatch shut and we were once more in darkness.

  “I think that was food,” he said.

  “Served like that I’m not sure I want to bother.”

  Torvec moved from my side and I heard him find a metal dish. “It’s not much but it is edible, just. I’ve certainly had worse.”

  “How can you find it so easily in this dark? It’s making my eyes hurt,” I said.

  “I can see a little in even here. My eyes are very good.” He sat beside me, but didn’t touch me, until his hand took hold of my clothed arm and he placed the rough metal plate into my grasp. “Eat.”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “You are sustaining me, so you need the food,” he said.

  “Why don’t I believe that?”

  “Alright, we’ll share,” he said.

  It turned out to be a weak gruel with rough bread, mostly stale. The day dwindled away and I wondered what the others were doing about rescuing us. The wait lay heavily on me.

  “Tell me about your true past, Torvec,” I requested from the best story teller I’d ever known.

  We were sat on the mattress, the bucket in the corner lurking and a new smaller bucket with drinking water sat next to us. Our shoulders didn’t quite touch but his heat reassured me I wasn’t alone in the dark.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “Tell me anything, how did you become a minstrel? You mentioned you taught yourself to read, how? When did The Lady allow you to out of your prison?”

  “I’ll tell you everything, we might just have the time,” he said. His voice came strong and he wove the story well. It took a long time and he gradually grew hoarse. We slept again, once more curled around each other, both of us far more comfortable with each other and me trying to assimilate everything Torvec told me. His life had been one long miserable wait for something positive to help him leave The Lady. His nature made it impossible for him to rebel against her until he found a new focus. I was the new focus.

  When we roused ourselves once more we began to feel the misery of real hunger and thirst. Lice were now in our clothing and my head pounded from the darkness. Torvec begged me to allow him to create light to help but if I felt rough so would he and I didn’t want him to waste his strength. We lay together on the mattress and tried to ignore the smells, the lice, and now the rats.

  Time moved but we didn’t know how much, we just assumed the food came at regular intervals and after the third meal became a distant memory I began to wonder if the Echo and her crew had left without us.

  The march of steps outside our door woke us both from the light doze we endured and the key in the lock turned quietly. Light flooded into the small room and we both cried out, shielding our faces.

  “Up,” came a rough voice in Common.

  “Give us a moment,” I muttered.

  No such luck. Large strong hands grabbed my arms and hauled me up, much like they had in the prison of the Mer King. Panic hit me; from passive resignation in the arms of a man who loved me, to this – it was too much.

  Violence erupted. I slammed my chained hands into the body attached to one set of hands and a grunt with a relaxed grip gave me satisfaction. Shouts began and I heard Torvec trying to explain. His voice became more frantic but my eyes were burning from the light and the panic prevented commonsense.

  Blows began to rain down on me but it didn
’t matter, they were not going to take me.

  “Please, please, don’t – stop, he doesn’t mean it.” A heavy body landed against me, knocking me to the ground. Torvec’s hands grasped my face and a wash of tranquillity took control of me. “Calm, love,” he murmured repeatedly.

  My breathing deepened and a lassitude took over.

  “He’ll be alright now, but please, don’t drag him. Try not to touch him too much. Let me remain near him and he’ll be fine,” Torvec said. He helped me off the ground. “Blink, it’ll help your eyes.”

  I looked at the blur before me and gradually Torvec appeared. “I don’t know whether to say thank you or be pissed off you stole my fight.”

  “Say thank you and they won’t beat you to death,” he said.

  “Do I look as rough as you?” I asked.

  “Rougher but I still love you,” he told me.

  I snorted and looked at the other men in the cell. One held his stomach, another his broken nose.

  “Go,” ordered the one in charge. It wasn’t Surek and this one wore a green uniform.

  Torvec walked forward and I chose to follow him, my chained hands on one of his shoulders, the physical contact helping me remain passive. The last few days were so different to those I’d spent with Galahad in the Mer King’s prison. I felt a peace with Torvec I’d never known, but I didn’t completely trust it – how could I – he’d lied to me.