Cavall in Camelot #1

by Audrey Mackaman

  The man in the corner made a small hmm noise.

  “It’s an ancient song,” the woman continued, brushing dust from the front of her robes. “The fay taught it to the humans many, many eons ago.”

  The fay? Was this woman a fay, too, like Vivian and Merlin? But she couldn’t be a friendly fay, Cavall thought, as the stone around his neck continued to sing.

  Cavall really, really hoped these people weren’t evil fay who had caught Gless and were now cooking him in that cauldron. He shook his head. He shouldn’t think like that.

  “Is it almost done?” the man asked. “They’ll ask questions if I’m not back soon.”

  “Patience,” the woman answered. “Empires do not rise over the course of a day.” She pulled up a three-legged stool and seated herself by the fire. “Nor do they fall in a day.” She folded her hands in her lap, staring into the flames as they licked the bottom of the cauldron. “The largest empires fall from the inside, crumbling under the weight of their own heavy decadence. And so, too, will this reign come to an end. We will simply help it along a bit.”

  Cavall didn’t understand what they meant, but he didn’t like the sound of it.

  “I wouldn’t have to keep coming out here,” the man grumbled, “if I had a familiar like you do.”

  “Do you think you’re ready for a familiar? The magic required to bond an animal to a human’s life force can be . . . quite dangerous.”

  “You’re going to have to teach me magic someday.”

  The woman quirked an eyebrow. “Am I?”

  More hesitantly, the man replied, “Please? I’m ready. I know I can handle it.”

  The woman nodded. “Do you have an animal in mind?”

  Cavall could barely make out the man nodding his head.

  “Ah,” the woman said knowingly, “that creature.” She cast her eye under the table, where a shape Cavall had not even noticed sat with its head laid across its paws. “I’m not sure you would be so eager to bind this creature to you if you could understand what he says.”

  The shape shifted and groaned. It took Cavall a second to recognize—Gless! He’d found him! Cavall wagged his tail, overjoyed at finding his brother unhurt. He checked again to make sure. Yes, he knew the shape of his brother’s distinguished profile, but he couldn’t smell him at all. No wonder he hadn’t realized Gless was there. But what was he doing with these strange people? Was he the one in danger? Cavall began to call Gless’s name, to see if he was all right, but then the man started to talk again.

  “Gless found me,” he said, and now Cavall wondered if the man was Mordred, Gless’s person. It sounded a bit like him, but Cavall couldn’t be sure until he could get a scent. “He has the makings of a warrior’s dog. If you bind him to me, I will make him into a true king’s hound.”

  “I am no king’s hound,” Gless grunted. Cavall definitely recognized his voice. “I could be a king in my own right. Tell him that I will make him into a true king’s person.”

  “He says he will be the one making you into your true image,” the woman said with a slight chuckle into the palm of her hand. “He has a sharp tongue, this one. You will not tame each other so easily, I think.” Like Merlin and Vivian, she understood Gless. She was a fay.

  The rune stone on Cavall’s collar was still ringing. There was something very, very wrong going on here. Cavall wanted to rush in and ask what was going on, but something told him not to. He didn’t know what these people wanted with Gless or why Gless wasn’t trying to get away. He seemed perfectly capable.

  Cavall backed away from the window. Maybe he should go find the hunting party. Anwen might know what to do, or maybe one of the people. Better yet would be to find Arthur or even Merlin. Cavall circled around the cottage, trying to get a scent, any scent, but the forest swallowed them all up. Listening for possible help didn’t work, either, because an eerie quiet had descended on the woods. No birds sang. No squirrels skittered in the underbrush. Leaves rustled softly overhead, the only sound.

  It was getting dark. Cavall couldn’t see the sun, but it cast long shadows through the trees. He and Gless definitely shouldn’t be here by the time it had set. Cavall turned back to the cottage.

  He crept to the window again, but just as he lifted his head to look in, the front door burst open and Gless and Mordred—it was Mordred—came walking around the corner. Mordred had some sort of glass vial in his hand, and Gless walked by his side like they were simply out for a stroll in the woods. Cavall could smell both of them now, like when a cloudy haze gives way to a clear day. There must be something about the cottage itself that blocked scents. It seemed Gless could smell him as well, because his brother jerked back with a startled expression.

  Well, no sense hiding anymore. Cavall came out from around the corner. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said, and though he was still wary, he went to Gless and licked him. “I was worried you had gotten lost.”

  Gless pulled away from him and scoffed. “You needn’t have bothered. It’s really none of your business where I go and what I do.”

  “Who is this?” The woman stood at the door, one hand on her hip. “Did you allow this pup to follow you here, Gless?”

  Gless tucked his tail between his legs, something Cavall had never seen him do. “My brother has trouble keeping his nose in his own business. He’s harmless.”

  Harmless? Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

  “My father’s taken a liking to this cur,” Mordred said, pointing to Cavall. “Perhaps he could be of use to you?”

  The woman studied Cavall for a moment. Her eyes pierced into him. She was not a nice person, of that Cavall was certain. At last, she clucked her tongue and shook her head. “A clumsy creature such as this? I doubt he’ll be of much use to anyone.”

  Her words cut him right to the core. Cavall had tried his hardest all day to do things right, to be a dog worthy of Arthur’s time and affection. He’d tried to follow Anwen’s instructions, and then he’d tried to find Gless, only to be mocked yet again.

  The woman turned to Mordred, who slipped the vial away in one of his pockets. “Now, remember, just a drop before bed. Any more than that and you risk putting our plans into motion too quickly.”

  “Aye,” Mordred agreed. “I can remember that, Mother.”

  This woman was Mordred’s mother? But Arthur was his father. Shouldn’t she live in the castle with them? Why was she living out here in the woods alone?

  Mordred sighed, full of weariness and frustration. Cavall had heard his brother sigh much the same way many times. “Father treats me like I’m a weak-minded fool, but I’m not.”

  “Of course not. No son of mine is a weak-minded fool.”

  The woman was shorter than her son, so she had to reach up to pat his cheek. Cavall saw the resemblance now that Mordred wasn’t hiding in the shadows. He had the same profile, even though he looked more like Arthur overall. The way the woman caressed his face reminded Cavall of how his own mother had licked him and cleaned his fur. This woman was definitely Mordred’s mother, even if she didn’t smell like him. She didn’t smell like anything, really, even though she had come out of the cottage to bid them good-bye.

  “You are a good boy,” she said, “and you will be a good king.”

  “I’ll make you proud.” Mordred bent down and kissed his mother’s cheek. With a gentle pat on her shoulder, he broke away from her. “I’ll come next when I can.” He then turned to the dogs and whistled sharply. “Come, dogs. We must rejoin Tristan and the dogs before it gets too dark.”

  He chose a path and began down that way. Gless followed without hesitation, and Cavall hesitantly fell into step behind them. He’d always trusted Gless before, but the conversation he’d just heard had been so strange. There were so many questions to ask, Cavall wasn’t sure where to start.

  “I was worried about you,” he said to Gless, who was deliberately not looking at him. “I was worried you’d gotten lost in the woods.”

&nb
sp; “I was never lost,” Gless grunted.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re all right in any case.”

  Gless hmm’d noncommittally.

  “So . . . what happened back there? Who was that woman?” Cavall asked.

  “Her name is Morgana.” Gless didn’t offer any more than that, though Cavall waited.

  “What was she doing?” Cavall pressed when it became clear that Gless wasn’t going to elaborate. “What were you doing with her?”

  “That is none of your concern, Cavall.”

  “But what about Mord—?”

  “No more questions!” Gless snapped, showing his teeth. “You would do well to mind your own business. Do you understand?”

  Startled, Cavall nodded. He didn’t understand why Gless was being so evasive. Perhaps he should trust his brother and leave this alone. Though a voice that seemed to be his own told him this was not something he should ignore.

  I will keep my eyes on him, Cavall decided as the three of them continued along the path. Perhaps that’s what Merlin meant about gathering eyes. To help him watch for danger. He only hoped that Gless didn’t turn out to be that danger.

  Chapter 7

  MORDRED LED THE WAY THROUGH THE darkening woods, though Cavall didn’t see how he knew where to go. Somehow, by following the shadows, they eventually came to a beaten path where many deer, people, dogs, and other animals had passed.

  They walked in silence. Cavall didn’t feel like talking anymore, especially if Gless was going to be so guarded. The only sound besides the forest around them was the heavy tread of Mordred’s boots. The rune stone had stopped singing after they’d put some distance between them and the strange cottage, but Cavall still felt on edge. There was something dangerous about that woman, and Gless knew more than he was saying.

  Cavall stopped as the rune stone suddenly shrieked like a wounded animal. Mordred kept walking, but Gless paused. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Can’t you hear that?”

  Gless tilted his head. “Hear what?”

  Cavall looked around. The ringing hadn’t been this intense at the cottage. Something big and dangerous must be nearby. He wandered to the edge of the path, and the sound became more insistent. Another step off the path, and the ringing grew even louder.

  “What are you doing?” Gless asked in annoyance.

  “There’s something over here.” Cavall took a few more steps and stopped. That’s when he heard something else, fainter, under the screaming of the stone. It sounded like . . . it sounded like someone yelling. Not in the direction Mordred headed, but the other way, deeper into the forest. “Someone’s in trouble,” Cavall said. He took off at a run.

  “Cavall!” Gless called, chasing after him. “Where are you going?”

  “Can’t you hear it?” Cavall called back.

  “I don’t know what you’re . . .” His voice trailed off. He had to be able to hear it now. Maybe not the stone, but the shouting. A person’s voice, a man. It grew louder the closer they got to it.

  It came from a clearing up ahead, and Cavall could see dark shapes moving between the trees. He burst through the underbrush and stopped short. The scene before him made his heart hammer against his ribs.

  Arthur, his person, stood in the clearing, a lantern in one hand and his sword drawn in the other. What was he doing here? Blood dripped from one shoulder, where three jagged lines had been torn through his clothing and into his skin. He lifted his sword and yelled in fear at a dark shape bearing down on him.

  Bearing down on him. It was a bear—a shaggy, black bear that stood at least twice Arthur’s height when it reared back on its hind legs. Its teeth and claws were sharp enough to shred a person to bits. And judging from the wound on Arthur’s shoulder, this bear had already tried.

  Arthur had gotten his own attack in, though. Blood matted the fur on the bear’s back. The smell of it was pungent in the air. Cavall dashed in front of his person, not knowing what he could do to protect Arthur, but determined to try.

  Arthur gave a startled gasp. “Cavall?”

  The bear fell back onto all fours and bellowed. Strands of saliva trickled from its open maw. Its eyes were dark and beady, nearly invisible against its dark fur. “Out of the way, dog!” It was a she-bear. “I will tear this person’s head off its body!”

  Cavall bared his teeth. “I won’t let you hurt my person.”

  “Get her, Cavall!” Arthur yelled. He’d dropped his lantern and now held his sword with both hands. Still, he stood back. That was good. He was too wounded to continue to fight. He should be running for safety.

  The bear rose onto her hind legs again and swiped the air. Her dagger-long claws flashed. If Arthur had taken a hit from those, he was lucky he had not been hurt worse.

  The rune stone still sang loudly from Cavall’s collar.

  The bear roared, foamy specks of saliva flying from a mouth full of brutal teeth. Cavall tensed as she fell back onto all fours, massive legs coiled to charge. His teeth were not nearly as big as hers, nor did he have her impressive claws, but he had something she did not: the absolute conviction that no one would hurt his person.

  When she lunged, so did Cavall. Aiming high, he latched onto her shoulder with his teeth. Her hide was tough, but she still screamed in pain and stopped her advance on Arthur. She flailed about, trying to jerk him loose. Cavall held on tight. As long as her attention was on him, she wasn’t concentrating on hurting Arthur. Now, if only Arthur would run!

  The bear swiped at Cavall with her free claw, but she couldn’t reach. After a few tries of this, she reared up and rolled over onto her side. Cavall had to let go or be crushed under her weight. He fell back, snarling, hackles raised, ready for another go. But she needed to recover, and she retreated a few steps.

  “Mother!”

  “Mom!”

  Cavall turned at the voices, startled. In the thick brambles just behind the bear, two sets of shiny eyes peered out at them. Cavall could barely make out the shapes of two bear cubs in the low light. They were so small that he hadn’t even smelled them over the larger bear. The mother bear called over her shoulder to the cubs, “Hush, stay hidden!”

  “But, Mom.” One of the cubs ambled out from the brambles. “They hurt you!”

  “Stay back!” the bear roared, panicked. “If something should happen to me, you need to run. Run deep into the forest and hide until the danger has passed.”

  Cavall paused. Danger? Was she talking about him and Arthur? They weren’t the danger. She was. She was the one who had attacked Arthur. Cavall was just protecting his person. He didn’t even want to fight in the first place.

  Vivian’s words from earlier came back to him. “I only tell you these things because it is important to understand why something wishes to harm you. Only then can you seek a proper response.”

  He looked from the cubs to the bear and then back at Arthur. People didn’t have strong senses like dogs. Gless loved to remind Cavall of this. And in the dim evening light, Arthur wouldn’t have seen the bear cubs in the brambles.

  “Are those your cubs?” Cavall asked.

  The bear turned back to him. Surprise registered on her face for a moment, and then she snarled. “I will not let you or that person hurt them.”

  “I don’t want to hurt them,” Cavall said. “And I’m sure my person doesn’t either. We don’t hunt bears.”

  “Liar!”

  “We don’t hunt bears because we don’t eat bears,” Cavall said. “We were hunting deer this morning, though. My person was looking for deer. He didn’t realize your cubs were here. I promise you, he doesn’t want to hurt you or your cubs.”

  “That’s a lie. It has its person-weapon. It cut me.” She nodded to the bleeding wound on her arm.

  “He was defending himself. Just like you were defending your cubs.” Cavall took a step back, and even though every instinct told him to keep his guard up, he forced his fur to lie flat. He needed to show this bear that he had no intention o
f hurting her cubs. “If you promise to stop attacking us, we promise to leave immediately.”

  “You’re trying to trick me. I know what its kind does to mine. You take our pelts to make rugs and carpets and clothing. People killed my mate, but I won’t let either of you kill my cubs.”

  Cavall lowered his head to appear less threatening. “I don’t know if that’s true,” he admitted. “But I do know that we didn’t come into the forest today to hunt bears. In fact, we want nothing more than to go home, as I’m sure you do.”

  “So you can come back and hunt us again?”

  “I won’t ever hunt bears. I’m a deerhound. I was meant to hunt deer. You have my word on that. I can’t promise that other people won’t hunt you, but I do know that killing my person won’t stop them from trying.” He stood tall and puffed out his chest. He didn’t want to appear threatening, but at the same time, he needed to show this bear that he was just as determined to protect Arthur as she was to protect her cubs. “Now, if you continue to attack, I will be forced to fight. And if that happens, I will beat you. I will not let anyone hurt my person. If you lose, your cubs will lose their mother. And then they will have no one to protect them when the next hunter comes.”

  The bear’s eyes went wide, and for the first time, the fight went out of her stance. She huddled back, placing her body between him and her cubs. The rumbling of the rune stone grew weaker.

  “I’m giving you a chance to go,” Cavall said, “and all I ask is that you give us a chance to go as well.”

  She scowled at him, but her mind seemed to be made up. “Very well,” she said at last. “But if you follow us . . .”

  “We won’t.”

  The bear looked wary, but she turned back to the brambles. “Come, children,” she said, shooting mistrustful glances at Cavall and Arthur. “We are going home.”