Bastard.
Damn his brother and damn the little accident-prone nymph Elizabeth. She was more trouble than he needed to deal with. He had enough on his plate with the endless training his father beat into him. If Galahad wanted to saddle himself with Beth, then let him. All he got for his efforts was a headache and blisters on top of blisters.
He was done trailing after her. Done pulling her out of whatever crap she created. He was done. Let Galahad be her knight in shining armor. Lance wanted nothing to do with it. He was here to train and return his ass to the future. That was all.
Lance gazed up at the castle looming in the distance. The lengthening shadows it cast over the field let him know his next lesson would be waiting for him. Great. His father would love it if he was late. The pleasure the man got from each of his screw ups was immense, even if it wasn’t his fault.
Galahad probably planned this whole thing. Oh, on the surface he pretended to be this honest to a fault, perfect knight. But Lance knew better. Good old Gal wasn’t as holy as they made him out to be. He had a mean streak.
Case in point, Lance hoofing it back to the castle, bloody blisters and all.
Passing through the outer gates, he growled at the smirking guard. The man knew enough to hold his tongue, but as soon as Lance rounded the corner, the guard’s laughter carried after him.
“We’ll see if you’re still laughing when I kick your ass later.” Mumbling under his breath, he bypassed the courtyard, taking the steps into the great hall two at a time wincing with each step.
He narrowed his eyes, scoping out his prey. Galahad sat by the large fireplace, retelling the tale of what transpired earlier. The knights surrounding him laughed deeply at the conclusion when Lance was left to walk back to the keep.
Lance threw down his sword. The steel rang as it hit the stone silencing each one of the men. The ones with their backs to him turned slowly, hands resting on the hilts of swords.
“Care to share what was so damn funny with me? Y’all seem to be having a good laugh. I’m sure it wasn’t at my expense, was it?” He stared them down, daring one of them to be stupid enough to tell the truth.
Galahad cleared his throat. “Easy, Christian, I was only telling them how I saved the Lady Elizabeth and yourself from the pit.”
Lance’s angry hazel gaze zeroed in on his brother. You can’t think I’m that stupid. Though he looked at Galahad, his next words were meant for everyone else. “Leave. Now. This is between him and me and doesn’t concern y’all.” His Cajun accent deepened as his anger rose.
“Christian . . . ” Sir Percival stepped forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Lance remained motionless. “He meant no harm.”
“Listen, Percy, get your hand off me. I’m givin’ ya a warning. My gripe isn’t with y’all. It’s with him.” His eyes remained locked on his brother, who bristled under the intense scrutiny. “Go. Now.”
Percival’s hand dropped. “Aye, that it is.” He inclined his head to the others. “Come on, lads. ‘Tis almost time for our turn on the training field.” The knight turned on his heel and headed toward the heavy wooden doors. The others filed after him continuing on when Percival paused to toss back over his shoulder, “Christian, there is to be no bloodshed in the castle. Whatever your problem you take out side.”
“Gotcha. But I’m sure this won’t take long. Will it, bro?” His little brother had the good sense to keep his mouth shut and nod.
“Aye, you have been told. We will begin without you then.” Percival closed the door with a resounding thud behind him.
When they were finally alone, Galahad rose to stand before Lance. They eyed each other. All humor lost between them. For a few minutes neither spoke.
His brother broke the silence. “I do not see why you are so angry. A good walk does wonders to clear one’s mind of things he should not be entertaining.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Lance growled, flexing his fists.
“Lady Beth. You are falling for something you have no right to.”
“No right? You sanctimonious bastard!”
Quick as a flash, Lance’s fist connected with Galahad’s jaw.
~ ~ ~ ~
Sighing, Elizabeth lay back in the wooden tub, eyes closed. Her fiery mane loosely piled on top of her head. A few damp tendrils escaped their confinement and stuck to her neck and shoulders. The water had long since cooled, but she couldn’t draw enough energy to leave the comfort of it.
Her fingers lightly brushed across the bump on her forehead. It was strange. No matter, how many times she went back over the morning, she could not remember the hole being there. How many times had she and Beatrix walked through that field looking for the plants Merlin required? This morning was no different. Merlin recited a list, explained precisely where the plants grew, and sent her on her way. The only difference today was Christian.
Christian.
A gentle smile formed on her lips as she remembered waking up in his arms. Seeing his face etched with concern warmed her soul. Other than her family, no one ever cared that much about her. Or allowed themselves to show it.
Christian Lancelot Du Lac was an enigma to her. While his mother and father were the Lady Elaine and Sir Lancelot, he was not like anyone else she knew here. Even his brother, Sir Galahad, couldn’t hold a candle to him in her eyes. Although the brothers had a few similarities physically, they were nothing alike in character.
Galahad, what was there not to love about him? He was the epitome of honor. He was good, fair and cheerful. He never had a foul word to say of another. His friendly blue eyes that all but twinkled when he spoke to her. She was sure even his soul was bright and pure.
Christian, on the other hand, she should stay away from. Every time she looked at him, he averted his gaze. On the rare occasion, he did look at her; it gave her chills. Not chills of fear something more, she couldn’t put her finger on. It wasn’t that she was afraid of what he might do to her. Fear of what she wanted him to do.
Her eyes flew open. “Stop this. You know you cannot have either of them.”
“Did you say something m’Lady?” Her maid, Beatrix, looked up from the tunic she mended. Laying it aside, she rose and crossed the room to hold out a bath sheet for Elizabeth.
“Nay, Bea. I was day dreaming.”
She shivered and stood reaching for the cloth, wrapping it about her. Climbing from the tub, Elizabeth carefully stepped over the cold stones and sat on the stool before the fireplace. Beatrix came to stand behind her and carefully let down her damp tresses. Her maid proceeded to brush it in a steady, calming rhythm.
Elizabeth relaxed with a sigh. Until the brush caught and pulled the hair near the gash on her forehead. “Ouch!” Her hand flew up to touch the spot gingerly.
“M’ Lady! I’m sorry.” Beatrix’s hand rested on Elizabeth’s shoulder.
“It is fine, Bea. I shall live. I had worse as a child.” Her hand covered Beatrix’s. “Worry yourself not.”
“As you wish, m’Lady.” The maid returned to the brushing her hair.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Elizabeth stared into the flames dancing before her, contemplating her current situation. She sighed heavily. What was she going to do?
Beatrix stopped and set the brush aside picking up Elizabeth’s night shift. “M’Lady, are you sure there is naught bothering you? Were you hurt more than you told the King?”
“Nay, just a bump on my head.” Elizabeth stood letting the bath sheet slip from her body and pool at her feet.
“Then what ails you? There must be something.” Her maid and friend slipped around her to help her don the shift. Once done they sat facing each other. Bea took Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “You know you can talk to me. I have always kept your secrets.”
“I know, Bea. ‘Tis just . . .” She lifted her gaze to meet Beatrix’s.
The moment their eyes met, Bea’s mouth formed an O. “M’Lady. You must not entertain the thought that either o
f them could be husband material. You are betrothed to another.”
“But what if there was a way to break the engagement?” Hope swelled in her chest. “The King, my uncle, could command it so. Then I would be free.”
Beatrix shook her head. “The King would never break a betrothal on your whims. There are lands and a treaty at stake. You know that.”
A knock on the door broke off whatever Bea was about to say next. The maid pulled her hands away and rose to answer it. Her soft steps made hardly any sound on the cold stone floor. She pulled the solid oak door wide, dropping into a curtsey as Lady Elaine crossed the threshold. The wife of Sir Lancelot made a quick survey of the room. Her gaze finally resting on Elizabeth’s startled face.
Without looking, Lady Elaine waved Beatrix away. “Please leave us. I’d like to speak with Lady Elizabeth alone.”
“Yes m’Lady.” Bea dropped into another quick curtsey and fled the room closing the door behind her.
Lady Elaine smiled. “That one is a strange bird. However did you get her as your maid? I would think someone with your spunk would need a maid who could handle it.”
Elizabeth was stunned into silence watching Lady Elaine wander through her chamber. Her Ladyship would pick up a trinket here and there, examine it, and place back in the exact spot she picked it up from. This went on for her whole trip around the room until she stood behind Elizabeth.
“Was there something you needed, My Lady?” Elizabeth swallowed. To have Lady Elaine here couldn’t be a good sign.
Lady Elaine picked up the brush and ran her fingers over the bristles. “Needed? No dear, I did not need a thing.”
She started brushing Elizabeth’s long tresses slowly, smoothing it with her hands after the brush passed through. Elizabeth closed her eyes and relaxed, embracing the calm settling over her. When Elaine paused, she opened her eyes. “What was it you wanted to speak to me about?”
Lady Elaine placed the brush on the table next to her. She stepped up to the stool Beatrix had vacated earlier and lowered onto it. Once there, her façade fell away. She was merely a woman --no correct that-- a mother confronting her.
“Child, do you have any idea what you started?”
“What I started?” Elizabeth sat there, confused. “I do not understand?”
Elaine chuckled. “You honestly don’t know, do you?”
Elizabeth shook her head slowly.
“Oh my dear. You’ve started a war between my sons”
Elizabeth gasped. “How?”
Elaine continued to smile. “A little competition does them good. The only problem I have is they are battling over a prize that cannot be won.”
Elizabeth bristled. “I am no man’s prize, My Lady.”
“No, no you are not. However, to the two men who beat the pulp out of each other below, you are.”
“But I am betrothed. They must know that.” Elizabeth stood abruptly and started pacing. This was bad, very bad. Christian and Galahad fought over her. This should never have happened.
“You are betrothed. That’s true. However, I’m not a fool. I have eyes and can see this betrothal is not what you want.”
“’Tis my duty though and I must wed the Lord chosen for me.” Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged at the admission. Whatever fantasy she had to find love was shattered with that one statement. Her match would never be for love. She was another pawn to be used to secure allies for Camelot. “My father and King Arthur made the betrothal with Lord Rimmon. I cannot break that.”
“Lady Elizabeth,” Elaine rose and came to stand behind her. “Never underestimate love. I am living breathing proof of that. If there is a way out of this betrothal, if that is truly what you want, I’m sure we can find a way to make that happen.”
“Truly, My Lady?” Elizabeth turned to face her, smiling.
“Truly.” Elaine hugged her close. After a moment, Elaine pulled back and wiped the tears away from Elizabeth’s cheeks. “Off to bed with you.”
“Thank you, Lady Elaine.” She allowed Elaine to lead her to the goose down bed and climbed in. Her Ladyship pulled the covers up and brushed the hair away from her forehead.
“Leave everything to me. I’ll work on getting the bug in Arthur’s ear about your betrothal. Promise me no more drama.”
“Drama?” She yawned.
Elaine backed away from the bed and walked to the door. “Yes, drama. Or in other words, no more adventures that pit the two hard-headed sons of mine against each other. Christian will be leaving soon and Galahad, well, he is destined for greater things. Both are off the menu for you.”
The door closed with a solid thud, leaving Elizabeth alone with her thoughts. How in the world could she sleep knowing everything in her world was about to change forever?
Twelve
“Have the two of you gone mad?” Their father’s voice exploded in the vast hall.
Strong hands grabbed Lance by the back of the neck and threw him across the room. He hit the wall with a force he hadn’t felt since his training with Zephyr. For a moment, he believed his personal tormentor had returned. Looking up from where he was sprawled on the stone floor, Lance saw his brother hitting the opposite wall with equal force.
The common denominator in their present positions was Lancelot. He stood between them, fists clenched, boiling with anger. He glared between his sons. “I demand to know why you felt the need to destroy this place. Can you not control yourselves? Whatever this quarrel is between you, it ends, now. This castle, this kingdom cannot handle any more of it.”
A squire darted in and placed a bucket of water at their father’s feet and scampered off again. Clearly, he had the right idea because Lance wanted to follow him. Lancelot reached into the bucket lifting out two sopping wet rags. He threw them at his sons.
Lance and Galahad each caught one. They held them to the pain blossoming in various parts of their faces.
“Tonight you will clean this mess up. In the morning, you will be plowing the fields. As the horses. Mayhap a bit of physical work is what you need to rid yourselves of this extra energy you seem to have.”
The wolf in Lance snarled. It wanted out. It wanted Galahad to pay for what he had done and said about him.
Unworthy, my ass. I’m just as worthy as he is.
“Aye, Father. But he started it.” Galahad covered his left eye with the rag, nodding.
Lancelot narrowed his eyes on his youngest son. “Not another word!” He swung his hard gaze to Lance. “Christian?”
Lance scowled around the rag on his lip. “What?”
“Are you going to start behaving like the grown men and knights that you are rather than spoiled children?”
Jumping to his feet, Lance growled. “Look, I’m tired of being the butt of everyone’s jokes. Tired of doing the right thing and have everyone look down their noses at me. Everyone in this God damned castle thinks I’m not worthy of being here. So fine, fuck this and send my ass back to where I’m supposed to be. This is who I am and I’m not about to change for you, or anyone else.” He threw the rag at his father’s feet and stormed from the great hall.
What the hell do they think I am? I’m not a . . .
Lance paused on the staircase. His father told them both to behave like the knights they were. But, he wasn’t one. Then what did he mean by it? Leaning back on the stone wall, he thought about the words thrown at him below. Was there something he missed? Pivoting on his heel, he jogged back downstairs for answers.
He entered the hall and went straight to Galahad and held out his hand, a peace offering. His brother threw him a questioning look before grabbing it and allowing Lance to pull him up. The two faced their father in unison.
“Okay, I want to know what you meant by what you said.” Lance stepped forward. His anger suddenly felt so far away as a strong wave of confusion washed over him.
“What did I say that was not clear? The fact you will be cleaning this mess or that you will work in the fields tomorrow? Since you enjoy behav
ing like animals, you can work like them.” Lancelot folded his arms across his chest.
Shaking his head, Lance stepped forward. “No, that’s not it. Let’s try rewinding a little.”
“Re-whatting? I swear I cannot understand half the things you say. Is English not the language you speak in the future?”
“I speak perfectly fine.” He felt his anger starting to return. “That’s not the issue right now.”
“Then what is, Christian? I would like to get this over with before my hair goes white.”
Mentally counting to ten, Lance continued. “You just told us to behave like the knights we are.”
Lancelot nodded. “Aye, I did”
“Last time I checked, I’m not a knight.”
Before Lancelot could answer him, Galahad interrupted. “If I may, Father?” Lancelot waved him on. “Christian, have you not been keeping up with us on the training field?”
“Yeah, but that’s what I’m here to do”
“Aye, you are.” Galahad tossed his rag in the bucket and paced the room. “And, did you not fight off man and beast to save the Lady Elizabeth?”
“What was I supposed to do? Let her get raped and killed?” Lance set the stool beside him to rights and sat down.
“Not everyone would have done so. Most others would have turned a blind eye and walked away.”
“That’s insane.”
“True for you or I maybe. But sadly that is what happens here, in this time.” Galahad paused next to their father. “You have shown courage, integrity, justice and nobility. These are all the virtues of knighthood. You have your anger to work on, but you possess all of the knightly qualities already”
Lance rubbed his forehead. “And because of all that you are calling me a knight. I thought there was a whole ceremony with pomp and circumstance that had to happen. Not because you say it, it’s so.”
Lancelot cleared his throat, stepping forward. He laid his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “A ceremony does not make a knight. ‘Tis what is inside a man that makes him one. You, lad, are definitely a knight. If only you could behave like one.” He chuckled and released Lance. “The two of you, clean up and get to bed. You need your rest to pull that plow.”
Beyond Time: A Dark Order of the Dragon Novel (The Dark Order of the Dragon Book 2) Page 9
