Cavall in Camelot #1

by Audrey Mackaman

  “Who is she?”

  “No one you should tangle with.” Edelm’s eyes narrowed. “She is a dangerous fay who was exiled from Camelot many years ago for practicing evil magic.”

  “And she’s Mordred’s mother?”

  “Why are you asking these questions?” Edelm said.

  “It’s just . . . I saw them together in the forest yesterday, when I went looking for Gless. They were talking about familiars and learning magic and Morgana gave Mordred a strange vial and my collar was making noise the whole time—”

  Anwen smacked her paw on top of his. “Slow down,” she ordered. “What’s this about your collar making noise?”

  “Oh, my magic collar, right.” He stuck out his neck to show them the rune stone. “It makes noise when there’s danger nearby. That’s how I knew about the bear.”

  Anwen’s droopy eyes rolled upward to the stone. “You didn’t have that yesterday.”

  “No. Vivian gave it to me.”

  “The Lady of the Lake,” Edelm breathed. “Come closer, pup. Let me take a look at what you have there.” Cavall came up to the windowsill, and Edelm studied the stone with his clouded eyes. “I have seen this symbol before,” he said after a moment. “It is a mark of protection.”

  “It makes noise around certain people, too,” Cavall said. “It doesn’t like Mordred.”

  Edelm and Anwen shared an uncertain look.

  This time, Anwen spoke first. “You think he’s dangerous? Granted, Mordred can be a little . . . unfriendly, but he’s still a knight of the Round Table, and knights are held to a high standard. There’s no way Arthur would let someone dangerous become a knight.”

  “I think . . .” Cavall hesitated. “I think he might be planning to hurt Arthur.” He didn’t like thinking it, but somehow, saying it out loud made it all the worse. “I think that whatever’s in that vial Morgana gave him is meant to hurt Arthur somehow.”

  “But why?” Anwen demanded. “He’s Arthur’s son. Why would a son want to hurt his father?”

  “I don’t know,” Cavall admitted.

  “I do know,” Edelm spoke up, “that the queen is not fond of him. Luwella tells me she tolerates his presence because she knows how much Arthur loves him, and so she does not speak of how uneasy he makes her.” He paused to consider his own words. “It would be worth keeping an eye on him.”

  Cavall was glad someone else thought so, even if he’d also secretly been hoping he was wrong about Mordred.

  “I need to stay by Arthur’s side,” he said. “How do I watch Mordred when he’s not around Arthur? I can’t be in two places at the same time.”

  Edelm thought about that for a moment. “Then I will be your eyes where you cannot go.”

  “You’ll . . . be my eyes?” Cavall asked in confusion. “How can you be my eyes?”

  “He means we’ll make sure Mordred’s not up to anything when you’re not around,” Anwen said.

  “Oh,” Cavall said. It was good that Anwen knew what all these fancy phrases meant. Cavall wished he’d had her with him yesterday when he’d spoken to Vivian; maybe she would have been able to tell him what the fay meant with all her strange questions. It would be even better if she could interpret Merlin’s mysterious words.

  Merlin had told him to gather eyes, and now Edelm was offering to be his eyes. There must be a connection.

  He was pondering that when Anwen’s words sank in. “Wait, did you say ‘we’?” he asked in surprise. “As in . . . both of you?”

  Anwen puffed out her chest. “Of course.”

  “But I thought you didn’t believe me.”

  “I never said that.” She sat on her haunches and looked away from him, guiltily. “And . . . anyway, Edelm’s word is good enough for me. If he thinks there’s trouble, then it’s no time to let our guard down.”

  Cavall wagged his tail and bent down low to lick the end of her nose. “Thank you, Anwen.”

  She sputtered and gave him a warning woof. “Watch it, pup. You may be bigger than me, but I’m still the pack leader around here.”

  Chapter 11

  ALTHOUGH THEY HAD ALL AGREED TO KEEP AN eye on Mordred, Cavall wasn’t going to just wait for him to hurt Arthur.

  That night, Mordred came to Arthur’s door again with another pitcher of water. Gless was not with him this time. Cavall wondered at that for a moment, until the rune stone started vibrating. Without hesitating, he leapt up and tried to knock the pitcher out of Mordred’s hands.

  Arthur yanked Cavall’s collar to pull him back. “No!” he scolded. “That’s a very bad dog. There will be no jumping up on anyone.”

  “Need to train your mutt better,” Mordred sniffed. Cavall had managed to dump some of the water, but not all of it, and what had spilled was all down the front of Mordred’s shirt.

  Cavall growled at him. “I know what you’re up to, and I won’t let you get away with it.”

  But of course the people didn’t understand him, and, in fact, Arthur smacked him on the top of his head. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to surprise him. “Cavall, be quiet!”

  Mordred glared down at Cavall. “Seems you’ve got quite a vicious beast there, Father. Maybe you’d sleep better without such a nasty dog in the room.” His free hand went to his hip, where Cavall noticed a dagger tucked under his tunic. “I could take him out to the stables for you for the night, and we’ll see about sending him back to the farm in the morning.”

  Cavall stopped growling. He did not want to be alone with Mordred, especially with the way he rested his hand on the hilt of that dagger.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Arthur said in a level tone. He turned and patted Cavall on the head. “But we don’t abandon our family just because they act up a little.”

  Cavall wagged his tail. Mordred’s jaw tightened, but he shook it off quickly and offered the pitcher of water. Arthur took it, and Cavall felt the urge to growl again. He couldn’t, though. Not with Mordred’s threat hanging in the air.

  As Arthur drank from the pitcher, Cavall trudged over to the carpet by the fireplace, feeling useless and not at all like he was protecting Arthur.

  Everyone else settled in for bed, but Cavall couldn’t sleep. Instead, he watched the moonlight move across the floor as the night progressed. Just as the moon was at its highest point in the sky, he heard twitching from the bed. He sprang up and walked around to Arthur’s side.

  Arthur was jerking back and forth, muttering something in his sleep. It sounded like “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again. He turned and his hand dangled off the side of the bed.

  Cavall nudged it with his nose.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” Arthur mumbled fretfully in his sleep. His eyebrows scrunched together.

  Cavall wished he could see what Arthur was dreaming. He wished he could go into Arthur’s dream and fight off whatever was doing this to him. But a nightmare wasn’t a thing you could fight like a person or a dog or a bear. How much easier it would be if it were a bear!

  All he could do was give his person’s hand a lick, then another, until the knot went out of Arthur’s brow and he settled back into a semi-restful sleep. He didn’t talk for the rest of the night, but he did twitch and jerk from time to time. Cavall stayed on the floor by his side.

  The day dawned bright and cheerful. Cavall stood and stretched, eager to put the night behind him. Wagging his tail, he went to greet Arthur for the morning, but his person was still asleep.

  Gwen noticed, too. She sat up and threw back the covers, but when she saw that Arthur hadn’t stirred, she reached across the bed to give him a shake. He groaned and put his face into his pillow.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked. “Are you feeling sick?”

  “Leave me alone,” Arthur snapped, rolling over.

  Cavall balked at that. Perhaps Arthur hadn’t meant to sound so angry?

  Gwen seemed surprised, too. She reached for him again, but he shook off her hand. “Don’t touch me.”r />
  From where he was standing, Cavall could see the startled look on Gwen’s face, followed by hurt as she turned away. “Forgive me for trying to help,” she murmured, almost to herself.

  Arthur sat up and reached for her hand before she could get up and walk away. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Again?” She turned around on the bed and held Arthur’s face in her hands. “Husband, you can’t go on like this. You look so tired. Shall I inform the knights that you’re unwell and let you rest for the day?”

  Arthur shook his head, but he was much gentler this time when he pried her hands off him. “No, I am fine, wife. The kingdom will not rest for the day, so I cannot either.”

  “They’ll understand,” Gwen continued. “You’re still recovering from your wound. Here, let me check it for you.”

  He tried to wave her off, but she was having none of it. She pulled the collar of his nightshirt away and began unwinding the bandages from Arthur’s shoulder. Cavall watched her expectantly. He was glad they had made up quickly, but it worried him that Arthur had snapped at Gwen when she had just been trying to help him. He’d never heard Arthur raise his voice, except perhaps when the bear had attacked.

  “It’s hot to the touch. It’s been corrupted,” she said at last, drawing her hand back. “No wonder you’ve not been sleeping well. I’ll inform the apothecary. He may have something to help you sleep, as well.”

  Cavall didn’t know what an apothecary was, but unless it was someone who could fight nightmares, they probably wouldn’t help.

  “There’s no need for that,” Arthur said. “Mordred’s been bringing me a sleep draft.”

  Gwen paused in getting up from the bed. Her face grew grim, if only for a moment. “Yes,” she said stiffly. “Mordred. What’s in this sleep draft of his? It doesn’t seem to be doing any good.”

  “I daresay I would not be sleeping at all if it weren’t for his help.”

  “Perhaps, but I’d like to know where he’s gotten this draft. He may be using his mother’s arcane knowledge to brew it. Who knows what that witch is capable of?”

  A tense silence filled the room.

  “Surely you don’t think Mordred is poisoning me.” Arthur laughed, as if the thought was too outlandish to take seriously.

  Cavall realized that was exactly what he was doing. Maybe not a deadly poison, but whatever Mordred was putting into Arthur’s water, whatever Morgana had given him, was somehow giving Arthur these dreams. Cavall was sure of it.

  “No, of course not,” Gwen answered quickly. “I merely meant that if he’s working with medicine that’s beyond his knowledge, it could be making the fever worse.”

  “You don’t need to worry about Morgana. The boy has had no contact with her for years.”

  Cavall barked sharply. Perhaps if he barked whenever Arthur said something that wasn’t true, he’d begin to understand.

  “Oh, Cavall, be quiet,” Arthur chided instead, placing a hand to his head as if he were in pain.

  “Perhaps he needs to go out,” Gwen suggested. Then, seeing Arthur throw back the sheets in an attempt to get up, she added, “I’ll have one of the servants see to it. You don’t need to strain yourself.”

  “I can do it,” Arthur groaned. “If a man can’t get out of bed to see to his own dog, how can he be expected to rule a kingdom?”

  He chuckled, but Cavall didn’t think it was very funny. He went over and leaned against the mattress to let Arthur know he didn’t need to hurry out of bed. He wouldn’t have barked at all if he’d known it would only make his person feel guilty.

  “You see?” Gwen said. “Even Cavall worries for you.”

  “I am fine,” Arthur said firmly. He leaned across the bed and touched his lips to her cheek. “Please, let this go. I don’t like to see you worrying about me. Or you either, boy.” He tousled Cavall’s ears, and even though that felt really good, it didn’t make Cavall feel any less worried.

  Gwen sighed. “At least let me inform the apothecary about your wound.”

  “If it would soothe you, then by all means, go ahead.”

  Gwen nodded gratefully, and together they got up and began dressing for the day. Luwella stayed by Gwen’s side while her person dressed and brushed out her hair. On the way out the door, she shot a meaningful look at Cavall, though he wasn’t sure what her meaning was. He wanted to speak with Edelm and Anwen to see if they had discovered anything, but he would also need to take Luwella’s lead and stay close to his person today.

  He followed Arthur down the stairs and to the great hall, where a breakfast of freshly baked bread and mutton was being served. Anwen and Edelm were waiting for him. With one last glance at Arthur to make sure he was not in any immediate danger, Cavall went over to them.

  “Your person looks pretty rough,” Anwen noted.

  “It’s getting worse,” Cavall admitted. “I’m afraid something very dangerous for Arthur and the people around him is going to happen if we don’t stop this soon. Did either of you learn anything?”

  Edelm shook his grizzled head, but Anwen bared her teeth. “No, but you’re right. Mordred, that little weasel, is definitely up to something. Always skulking around. That brother of yours, too. Lurking in the shadows. Why, every time I see them, it makes me want to just . . .” She stomped her little legs. “Just run up and bite them. The both of them.”

  “Do not act rashly, Anwen,” Edelm scolded gently. “There is nothing to be gained from violence at this stage. You may end up making matters worse.”

  Anwen stared up at him as if he had just snarled at her.

  “Please don’t bite Gless,” Cavall said. “I’m not even sure he knows what Mordred is up to.”

  “If he doesn’t know, he’s extremely stupid,” Anwen grumbled.

  “In any case, if you bite them, you’ll get in trouble,” Cavall said. “I don’t want you getting into trouble on my account.” He sighed. “I just wish there was something else I could do. All this watching and waiting . . . I really wish Merlin were here. If I could just talk to Merlin, he could warn Arthur.”

  “Unfortunately,” Edelm said, “I do not know how to contact him. Even if I knew where to find him at this moment, it is likely he would be gone when we got there. He travels around.”

  “He told me he lives in the forest. Oh, but he can turn into a bird,” Cavall said, having suddenly remembered that. Yes, that might make it difficult to find the wizard, he supposed.

  Breakfast finished, and Arthur stood to announce a meeting of the Knights of the Round Table.

  Cavall followed after them, but looked back when Edelm did not. “Are you not coming to the meeting?” he asked.

  “I am going to do some investigating on my own,” Edelm said. “You go and keep an eye on your person.”

  “And Mordred,” Anwen added. “I almost hope he does try something. That way you can bite him and nobody would stop you.”

  “Do not bite him,” Edelm said. “It is better to bide our time. I will let you know if my investigation bears any fruit.”

  Edelm was going to look for fruit? Or was this one of those weird phrases, like being someone else’s eyes? Either way, he didn’t have any time to contemplate it, because the knights were already headed for the Round Table.

  Cavall sat at the foot of Arthur’s chair under the table, only half listening as the knights began to talk. He was more intent on watching Arthur, who was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Every so often, his head would nod forward, almost coming to a rest on the table before he would bolt upright in his chair again.

  “Your Majesty?” It was Sir Lancelot who caught him doing this once. “Are you all right?”

  Arthur’s eyes opened wide, and he looked around the room like a frightened animal. It was almost as if he didn’t know where he was or who had spoken to him. Cavall reached up and licked Arthur’s hand. That calmed him down, and he stroked Cavall’s ears under the t
able. “I’m fine, Lancelot,” he said. “I’m just a bit tired, I suppose.”

  “With all due respect,” Sir Ector spoke up, “perhaps His Majesty would like to adjourn early.”

  “Nonsense.” Arthur waved his other hand toward Ector. “I said I’m fine.”

  He propped his head up with his hands, which didn’t look very dignified. The knights continued talking, but someone would occasionally break to say, “Your Majesty,” as if making sure he was still awake. He would nod, even though his eyes were sometimes closed.

  Cavall didn’t like any of it. If his person was that tired, he should take care of himself and go to bed. He was glad when Sir Bedivere finally suggested this. “Your Majesty, it’s clear that you’re not fully with us this morning. Perhaps you should rest so that when you rejoin us you can be more awake.”

  Arthur scoffed. It was a mean-spirited scoff. The sort of noise Gless would make, not Arthur. “How many times do I have to say I’m fine? England is not going to take a day to rest, so why should the king?” He stood up suddenly, which startled Cavall so much that he jumped up as well. The chair legs made a horrible scratching noise as they slid across the stone floor. “I can’t afford to fail my people. They’re depending on me!”

  “Arthur.” Sir Ector’s voice was calm as he stood, too. He held up his hands the way people sometimes did to keep a dog from jumping up on them. “Arthur, be calm. You’re wounded and you’ve been working hard lately. It’s making you overwrought.”

  “I’m overwrought,” Arthur snapped, “because England is in danger and all of you want me to take a nap!”

  There was silence from the knights.

  Finally, it was Sir Lancelot who spoke. “How is England in danger, Your Majesty?”

  “It just is.” Arthur raked his hands through his hair. “Can’t any of you feel it?”

  Again, nobody spoke. Cavall could feel the tension in the room rising. Arthur was acting scared, like a cornered animal. Couldn’t the knights see that?

  Cavall came to stand between Arthur and the knights, hoping his person wouldn’t feel so surrounded that way. Unfortunately, that didn’t calm Arthur down at all. Instead, he flinched as though Cavall was about to attack him. Like he didn’t even recognize Cavall at all.