The Du Lac Legacy (Sons of Camelot Book 2)

by Sarah Luddington

  “Holt,” he said simply.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “You love him, it’s alright.”

  I finally looked into his warm dark eyes, so soft – not the hard arrogance I remembered from when we’d first met – now it was soft and kind and safe. “It’s too much,” I told him.

  “I know, I understand, Holt. More than anyone other than Torvec, I understand. I’ll be here, together we’ll say goodbye to him and hold him safe until he joins the other great warriors in the Land of the Dead. Afterwards we’ll take everything day by day. I’ve tried to explain to Lance about Camelot’s throne, but he doesn’t understand. We’ll have to explain together. We’ll be doing everything together.” Galahad moved around while he spoke, gathering up things so I could wash. A basin, a jug of water, several cloths and rough soap.

  “I couldn’t make love to him,” I said, my voice a dull and lifeless thing.

  My companion paused and took a huge breath before standing in front of me again. “He should have understood why, Holt. I do. He knew you’d suffered. If he didn’t understand, couldn’t control himself well enough then he didn’t...” his voice faded and he looked away.

  “Didn’t what?” I asked.

  I watched Galahad screw up his courage. “I’m sorry, Holt, but he didn’t deserve you.”

  I looked into his eyes, they were strong and calm. “You do?”

  He smiled, a small bitter twist of his mouth. “I doubt it, but I will do my best and I will protect you. Eventually you will be strong and stable again. When that time comes you will either remain at my side or you won’t.”

  “We are bonded,” I said.

  “I know. But I also know you don’t trust my love for you and I don’t blame you,” he said. I could see the pain of his confession. He didn’t want to hurt me but he didn’t want to hide anything either.

  “It’s the physical side of loving a man you struggle with, isn’t it? While I’m incapable of real intimacy you are safe and you don’t have consider things too much.” I watched him carefully, he’d brought our conversation to this point and he needed me to challenge him so he could explain and warn me everything wasn’t perfect in our paradise.

  “I’m sorry, Holt. The sound of that woman’s voice in my head, telling me it’s wrong and disgusting, makes it hard for me to... to relax, I suppose,” he said.

  His misery was clear. I couldn’t really blame him, he’d bonded with me in a state of panic in order to save my life, and we’d gone straight into Torvec’s head to save his sanity before fighting for our lives. We’d not had a chance to talk before this moment.

  I drew in my own deep breath and took his hands in mine. “I have an idea, Galahad. Why don’t we just wait and see what happens. We are not our fathers and although our love is deep and true – I have no doubt on that score – it might well not be the same. The love of brothers might be our destiny but let’s not make any rules except one.”

  He looked at me with a slightly wary expression, making me smile. “Let’s just make sure we keep talking, we’ll be making a strong foundation of trust if we keep talking.”

  He nodded and released a small chuckle of relief. “Talking sounds good.”

  We paused for some time, I wanted to draw him into my arms and kiss his soft mouth but now I wasn’t certain I could without upsetting him. I’d lost the only man I could do that with to a sword in the guts.

  The thought brought a heaving breath of misery out of my chest.

  “Let’s clean up,” Galahad said, trying to distract me. He gently pulled me away from the chart table and toward the jug and water. I really wanted a bath but we’d all worked too hard for such luxuries.

  Exhaustion hit me with such force I couldn’t move with the ship as she lunged through the waves and I stumbled badly. Galahad caught me, propped me up against Raven’s large chest and began unlacing my clothes. I still wore my mail hauberk, gambeson and sword strapped to my waist. Galahad pulled the mail shirt over my head and flakes of dried blood cascaded over me.

  It took him time but eventually I stood before him in just my hose and boots. He soaked cloths and slowly wiped them over my hands and arms, down my chest and neck. I stood staring over his shoulder, remembering Torvec’s care of me and knowing I’d never hear his sweet voice singing about Camelot again.

  “You’ve been hurt,” Galahad said quietly. I finally managed to draw myself into the present and look at him. I couldn’t interpret his expression and without thought I silently queried his feelings, the connections between us flaring hard and bright.

  Galahad jerked hard. “Gods, Holt...” His hands flexed against my naked chest, the movement one of desire.

  “Sorry,” I said, breathlessly. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

  “I can’t cut you out I don’t think, you’ve been tangled up with me all day. You are the one who closed us down when Torvec died,” he said.

  I frowned, not understanding. “I’m not fey, I can’t do anything.”

  “That’s why you can cut me out so easily. I’ve been without you, until you called me, since the attack. You can simply switch off our bonding with a thought, conscious or not,” Galahad said. I realised he’d found the experience disturbing and unpleasant.

  “I didn’t know,” I said.

  His fingers trailed over my skin and the strange sensation of feeling my skin’s reaction and his own fingertips’ reactions made my exhausted mind spin.

  “You have more control because you are harder to shift than a fey companion. You are like a rock, I am like the river weed, buffeted by the water of our shared energy.” Again his fingers whispered over my naked chest.

  I reached slowly for his hands. “Galahad, if you don’t want this, you need to stop.”

  “I can’t,” he almost sobbed. “I want you.” The anguish of his desire fighting his guilt and shame reverberated through him. I trapped his jaw between my hands and forced him to look at me.

  “Calm down, love,” I ordered. “I can’t do this.”

  He groaned, stepped even more closely to me and his lips were on mine before I found the sense to turn away. I didn’t have the will to fight him, I wanted the comfort, the safety, the life of Galahad du Lac to dominate my misery. His arms encircled my body, his tongue sought mine and his desire swept through me like a tempest. The kiss was long, deep, intimate and brought our bodies to full arousal.

  Slowly I managed to pull away. “Now, isn’t the time,” I murmured. “Neither of us is ready to commit to the act.”

  “I can feel your need,” Galahad said, his fingers digging into the bruises I’d sustained on my back that morning. Was it only that morning I’d fallen out of the rigging? A dozen lifetimes or more seemed to have passed. I grunted with the pain and his fingers relaxed instantly.

  “My desire should not feed yours,” I said and I pushed him away, moving out of his grasp and back to the brandy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything.” I rubbed my eyes with my fingers, the exhaustion numbing me and taking the all too brief desire away.

  We were silent for a long time. I sat in Raven’s large chair and Galahad poured himself a drink, the hard liquor becoming familiar to him now.

  “You need to sleep,” he said eventually.

  “I want to get drunk.”

  Silence again.

  “You’ve cut me out, Holt,” he said.

  I’d been thinking hard about the consequences of the day during the prolonged silence and for all the words of enduring love we’d shared I knew it was an illusion. The bonding wasn’t real in the sense that it united two lovers. It wasn’t what our fathers had shared. How could it be? They’d been in love almost their entire lives. Galahad and I had known each other a matter of months. This couldn’t be a real, enduring, forever kind of love.

  “It’s for the best, Galahad. We’ll use these connections of ours only when we have to, they might fade to nothing. Our fathers fed theirs and that ended both their lives. You
will live much longer than I shall. I don’t want to take you with me through foolishness.”

  “What I did, I did for love, Holt. Not foolishness.” He rebuked my words with a firmness that surprised me. He wasn’t angered by my petty rejection of his actions, nor was he hurt, he just chose to close me down by making me see his commitment to our act.

  I felt myself blush. “You’re right, I should sleep. I’ll go on deck.”

  “No, Aleah is with Nim, Morgan will be with the wolves, you are remaining with me,” he said. “They don’t want you to be alone and neither do I.”

  I wanted to remain petty and almost pointed out that Torvec was alone because of our love but one look at that scarred beautiful face made me hold my wayward tongue.

  “You saved my life and have the terrible scars to prove it. Torvec lost his life. Am I cursed?” I asked. The brandy and tiredness were taking their toll.

  “You aren’t cursed, Holt. You are loved. Either of those strikes would have killed you. The scars I have are nothing compared to the knowledge that one small sacrifice, my vanity, has saved your life. As for Torvec...” he stared over my head. “I don’t know... I’m not even sure it was sacrifice, it was almost an offering. He wanted his freedom. A shifter who can’t shift? A dragon who can only love one being forced to love a mortal man who loves another? If it hadn’t happened today it would have happened soon. I don’t think Torvec wanted to live. It certainly isn’t your fault,” he said, looking at me again.

  I drank more brandy, the heady liquid blurring my thoughts into a state of comfort. “Can you get me to our bunk?” I asked.

  Galahad smiled and nodded. He came toward me, removed the brandy glass and helped me out of the chair. The ship rocked in the waves but he kept me straight and true until we made it to the room we’d shared before.

  “You are becoming wise,” I told my carer.

  “I have to grow up quickly,” he said, placing me down gently and kneeling to undo my boots.

  “I’m sorry. I should be protecting you,” I said.

  “Sleep, Holt. It is my honour to protect you.” Galahad brushed my hair back off my face as I lay down and my eyes began to close.

  “I wish I’d given him more,” I said, the words blurring together.

  Galahad maintained his gentle stroking. “I know you do, but now you need to sleep. We can take up the mantles of leadership tomorrow. Right now you just need to sleep.” His voice, so soft and gentle compared to his father’s, lulled me slowly – matching the waves as they rose and fell.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  I woke with a start, panic lancing through me, the darkness around me complete. Heat down my left flank and soft breathing sounds meant I wasn’t alone. It took long scary moments but my mind sorted itself out and repaired the gaps in my memory.

  “Torvec...” his name bled from my lips and my sore eyes teared up once more.

  The body next to me moved and a hand covered the ache in my chest. Galahad, still asleep, felt the hurt and moved to protect me. The kindness seemed like a blessing. I wanted to reach out for him, hold that strong body close and perhaps make love but the fear of rejection kept me still until he settled. I loved him, would always love him, but he bonded with me to defeat Torvec’s control. I slipped out from under his grasp and pulled on my hose before leaving the small room.

  The ship was still, in quiet waters, and I guessed only the watch was awake. I made my way to the galley and found low burning lamps giving the room an eerie feel. Quietness filled the ship and the shape of a wrapped body covered the main table. Another person sat beside the body.

  I approached slowly and touched a thin shoulder. “Nim?”

  She straightened and looked up at me startled. “Oh, Holt. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “We didn’t want him to be alone,” she said.

  I stared at Torvec. The women had washed him carefully, wrapping him in long strips of linen, covering all but his head. They’d brushed his hair back and it just kissed his shoulders, he looked so beautiful. I reached out to hold his hand but realised it was under the wraps and I’d never feel his skin next to mine again. I closed my fist and Nim placed her hand over it, softening it just by being here. I sat beside her on the bench and we just held hands.

  When Nim spoke her voice remained quiet. “Are you really going to abdicate?” she asked.

  I sighed and bowed my head for a moment. “Camelot needs an heir, I cannot provide one.”

  “You can name Isabel’s children as heirs,” Nim said.

  “She’s much better at the job than I am.”

  “Your people love you, Holt.”

  I just grunted and she didn’t push. We sat with Torvec in silence for a long time until she spoke again, “Galahad... Have the two of you sorted out your differences for good?”

  “I wanted to love Torvec, you know. It would have been so much simpler for all of us,” I said. The sadness overwhelmed me for a moment. I pushed it back, I needed to talk and Nim did not have an agenda. “I don’t know if Galahad and I have sorted things out or not. He is ashamed of the desire he feels for me. I wanted to free him of his responsibilities to me, he’s so young and he’s entitled to change his mind. By bonding with me I think he’s confused himself even more.”

  “It strikes me he doesn’t want you when he has you but he doesn’t like the thought of anyone else having you either,” Nim said. “The whole time you were trying to distance yourself from both of them, so you could have some grace to make a decision, he flirted with you.”

  “I know,” I whispered, staring at Torvec’s peaceful face. “If only I’d had more sense. I should never have slept with him in the first place.”

  “But you did and you fell in love with him and now you’re stuck with each other for all time.”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” I muttered.

  “Perhaps you can learn to make each other happy,” she said, trying to soothe me.

  “There’s always hope,” I said. Though hope felt like a distant dream right now. Everyone I needed in my life, every consolation, had died and I’d been left alone without guidance.

  Slowly the ship woke up and Lance arrived but didn’t seem to know what to say to me. I suddenly saw the world from his point of view. He’d been my closest friend and advisor for most of my life and I’d barely spoken to him about any of my decisions over the last few weeks.

  I glanced at Torvec and knew I needed to repair the neglect I’d caused among my friends. My own troubles needed to be placed into perspective, if I didn’t remain focused and calm down we’d lose everything. I was, for the moment, the glue Camelot and Albion needed.

  “Lord Fitzwilliam,” I called to Lance and he turned with a frown on his face, uncertain of my intention because I’d used his title. I stepped from the bench and he came close.

  “My Lord?” he asked.

  “Forgive me,” I said and I drew him into an embrace. He responded slowly, holding me as if I’d become a friendly snake.

  “You said you are going to abdicate,” he said, his voice thick with unspoken emotion. “You are our King, we give our lives for you, for Camelot.”

  “I know, my friend. I am sorry. Nothing will change until Camelot is ready and Albion is safe,” I said.

  “Nothing should change until the moment of your death and I trust that is far into the future.” Lance drew back from our embrace and looked into my face. I couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “I cannot promise you that, Lance. I am not the man you think I am, I am not my father.”

  “And I thank the gods for that fact almost daily, Holt. I know you’ve been thrown by meeting Galahad and I know something painful has happened, I can see the change in you and I also know losing Torvec is hurting you almost too much to bear, but, my friend, you are not alone.”

  “The bonding with Galahad...” my voice faded.

  “You are hurting over Torvec. Don’t j
udge your actions yesterday by today’s standards. Give yourself and the du Lac pain in the arse, some time. At least you didn’t die yesterday. Everything else can be sorted out later,” Lance said.

  I dragged a half smile up from the soles of my worn boots.

  Later that day Raven found a small harbour and we lowered the dory with Torvec’s body into the water. We were going to spend the rest of the day collecting what wood we could find and begin building his pyre. The hurt of my loss became an ache, Morgan and Nim remained close to me most of the day and I think the ritual of giving our final goodbyes to Torvec replaced those they missed when their mother died. Many of the sailors on board the Echo also helped, all them of grateful to Torvec for his songs and stories. By dusk we had our pyre thanks to the remains of the Echo’s storm damaged mast and the wood scavenged from the surrounding scrubby desert.

  Raven found some rich and specialised resins to burn to sweeten the smoke of the pyre, much to Lance’s amusement because his port of Heaven taxed the expensive resins, and as the sun set we stood around the unlit wood. I held a torch, ready to light the pyre, but I paused. The entire day Galahad had worked beside me but we hadn’t spoken beyond a few words and now I didn’t know what to do or say, so I turned to him.

  “Just speak from the heart,” he said in answer to my pleading gaze. “It doesn’t have to be much, he already knows how you feel.”

  “Words were his gift to us,” I finally managed to blurt out. “He never really had the chance to use those gifts, to share his magical talent with more people and Albion will be poorer for his loss.” The tears began to press against my eyes. “He saved my life, he gave his life for mine, for Camelot. He knew so much about suffering that my own pales in comparison but I did not understand until far too late. Torvec, the last of his kind, the bravest and most noble of men, I hope you have found the peace you sought, my dear, dear friend and I will always miss you.”

  I stepped forward, the tears now flowing freely as I remembered the burial of my father and Lancelot only a year ago, and placed the torch into the wood. It caught quickly but before I stepped back I stared into Torvec’s face for the last time and whispered, “I am so very sorry, beloved. Forgive me, forgive us.”