The Forever Queen (Pendragon Book 2)

by Nicola S. Dorrington

  Arthur crossed the room to take her hand. It was clear to see that he adored her. “My apologies, my love. But this matter requires a great deal of council.”

  She pursed her lips. “And yet, you will not even tell me what the matter is.”

  Gwain and Lancelot moved away, trying to give their king space to deal with his queen, but Merlin approached.

  “I am sure His Majesty simply doesn’t want to concern you with it. It is a matter best left to the king and his knights.”

  Guinevere’s expression tightened, and all of a sudden I realised that not even in Arthur’s time were all women content to be the damsel in need of protecting. But she didn’t say anything. She had been raised to never question, never argue. It was not what women did.

  “I am sure my king has the matter under control. I only wish to offer my support, such as it is.”

  She turned to leave but before she could Lancelot was at her side.

  “Allow me to escort you back to your chambers, Your Majesty.”

  My stomach twisted. I wasn’t the only one made uncomfortable by the way he gazed at her. Gwain turned away, as though he didn’t want to see it, and Merlin started frowning. Arthur seemed oblivious, waving them on with a good natured smile.

  “Thank you, Lancelot. Always the most gallant of us all.”

  I wanted to follow them as they left. Jealousy ate me up inside, even though I knew it was irrational. I was jealous of a woman who had lived over a thousand years before I was born, who was my ancestor in fact. Lancelot had told me the story. I knew he had only sought out Guinevere’s company because of her resemblance to me. But I still hated it. I couldn’t help it.

  As much as I wanted to follow them, I couldn’t. It was Wyn’s memory, and so I could only go where he went, and he remained in the room with Arthur and Merlin.

  Dismissing Guinevere, and Lancelot, from his thoughts, he turned back to the map. “How long do you think we have? Before the dragon reaches Camelot?”

  Gwain gazed at the map for a long moment and then sighed. “Not long, Sire. He is more intent on destruction than speed, but even so, I would say we have mere days at the most.”

  The vision grew cloudy and unfocused for a moment, and when it cleared again it was night. Gwain stood outside the doors this time, but as he leant towards the small crack where they had been left ajar I realised that he was eavesdropping as much as I was.

  Through the small crack I could just make out the Round Table, lit now by just a few candles, their flickering light making the shadows on the walls dance. Merlin and Arthur were alone. Arthur looked weary, and the candlelight made him look far older than his years. He sat slumped down in his chair, his head in one hand.

  “You need sleep, Sire,” Merlin said in a low voice. “There is nothing more you can do this night.”

  Arthur straightened up, shaking his head. “There is one thing I can do. I had hoped to find another way, but I see no better path. I cannot allow the dragon to come to Camelot.”

  Merlin frowned. “Sire?”

  “He wants me, does he not? After all I am the one who killed his mate. It is me upon whom he wants to wreak his vengeance. So I shall go to him.”

  “He may kill you, Sire.” Merlin reached forward and gripped Arthur’s forearm, his eyes desperate. “I cannot see this future. It is hidden even to me.”

  “Then so be it.” Arthur shook off Merlin’s hand and rose to pace to the window. “I cannot allow the dragon to reach Camelot. The suffering he would inflict here would be terrible. I will go to him. Perhaps I can reason with him.”

  For a long time Merlin said nothing, simply watching his king as Arthur gazed out of the window at Camelot, dark apart from pinpricks of candlelit in un-shuttered windows.

  “Very well, Sire. If this is the plan you are set on, I ask only one thing.”

  Arthur didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded.

  “If you are to meet the dragon, meet him at a specific place. There is a stone circle in the hills near the coast; I think you know the one I mean. The magic is strong there. It will help to protect you.”

  I frowned. If they were talking about the Pembrokeshire coast then I thought I too knew the stone circle Merlin was talking about. It was known as Bedd Arthur in my time. One of the many places reputed to be the final resting place of King Arthur. I felt a stirring of uncertainty in my stomach. I knew it wasn’t the place he had died, after all I’d seen Arthur’s death, but nothing about this boded well.

  “I also ask that you do not go alone, Sire.”

  Arthur sighed but nodded again. “I will take Lancelot-“

  “No,” Merlin cut in quickly, looking apologetic for having interrupted his king. “I have a need of Lancelot. I have an avenue I would like to try and I may need his help. Take Gwain.”

  The vision blurred and cleared again, and this time we had left Camelot far behind. I had also slipped deeper into Wyn’s memories. I was no longer separate; instead I saw through his eyes and listened through his ears.

  Around us spread rolling hills, not steep yet but I could see them rising above us, getting higher and wilder. The hills were grass covered, dotted with wild flowers. A bitter wind whistled across the exposed moorland, but Arthur and Gwain trekked on.

  “”Do you think it’s likely the dragon will come to meet you, Sire?” Gwain asked at last, as the horses picked their way up a winding mountain path.

  Arthur glanced out across the valley but for a long moment didn’t reply. “I can only hope, Gwain. I have sent out word; let it be known that we will be at the stone circle. I hope he will come.”

  The ground flattened out ahead of us and sharp bluestone rocks jutted up from the turf. It wasn’t a perfect circle, rougher and less exact than Stonehenge, but it was still a fairy circle and even through a memory I could feel the magic in the air. Like all stone circles the barriers between worlds were weaker there.

  Arthur pulled up before his horse could step into the circle and dismounted. Gwain swiftly followed his lead, but as he stepped forward to take a closer look at the circle Arthur stopped him.

  “What is it, Sire?”

  Arthur clenched and unclenched his hands, rubbing his thumb over his fingertips. I knew what he was feeling. The tingling, like pins and needles, that I always felt when there was strong magic around.

  There came a noise like a thunderclap and Arthur glanced up at the clear blue sky overhead. I remembered my vision, and the sound of the dragon’s wings.

  “Into the circle, Gwain.” Arthur nudged him forward and the two men stumbled across the grass and into the centre of the stones. The air seemed to shimmer slightly as they crossed between the stones, but then it was gone.

  For a moment the world seemed still and quiet and then with a rush of wind the dragon appeared overhead. Flames licked out, scorching the ground, but not reaching the circle. A warning. Moments later the ground shook as the dragon landed. He flapped his wings once, with another thunder-like clap, and then settled them along his back.

  He was huge, bigger than I’d even imagined or realised, glistening bronze from nose to tail. His face was almost horse-like in shape, only more angular, but the eyes were almost human in their intelligence.

  “Arthur Pendragon.” The dragon’s voice boomed in my head. He couldn’t speak out loud, not with his long forked tongue. But he had ways of making himself understood.

  “I know why you are here. Why you are terrorising my kingdom,” Arthur said, stepping forward. He hadn’t yet drawn Excalibur, but he rested his hand on the hilt, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice.

  “Then you know I plan to kill you.”

  Arthur didn’t waiver, didn’t falter. The threat would have terrified me, but Arthur barely blinked. “I think you will try. But I beg of you to reconsider. You must believe me when I say that I had no intention of killing your mate. If she had left me any other choice I would not have done it.”

  The dragon roared, and I knew then that Arthur
had no chance of reasoning with him. He was too far gone in his grief; the only thing he could contemplate was revenge on the one who had killed his mate.

  Arthur seemed to realise this too, drawing Excalibur from its sheath. Gwain did the same. Just the two of them against the dragon. I knew they didn’t stand a chance, and I couldn’t see how they had survived the encounter. Then as the dragon advanced I once again noticed the odd shimmering at the edge of the stone circle and I understood.

  I knew where Merlin and Lancelot had gone. To the Lady of the Lake to beg the assistance of the Fair Folk. That was why he had told Arthur to meet the dragon at a stone circle.

  The dragon didn’t seem to notice, advancing between the stones, knocking two of them to the ground as he passed. It didn’t matter, the stones themselves had no power, they simply marked the boundary.

  As the dragon crossed fully into the circle the land beyond the stones changed and I knew we were no longer in my world; we had crossed into Avalon.

  We were also no longer alone. Merlin and Nimue stood behind us, and entirely surrounding us were other Fair Folk, each more beautiful than the last until my eyes met the man stood directly opposite. I knew who he was; though he had so many names it was impossible to know which was the real one. The lord of the Fair Folk. He was so exquisite that he was almost painful to look at.

  He nodded his head at Arthur, who returned it. Two great lords greeting each other as equals.

  It took a moment for the dragon to realise what had happened, but when he did he roared loud enough to shake the ground beneath our feet.

  “Tricks! Treachery! How dare you!”

  Arthur shook his head. “It was not my doing. But I will not complain. Better that you are here in Avalon, than see your species die out.”

  The dragon roared again. “Lies. Cowardly lies. You would not dare to face me, and so you tricked me. I will not forget this, Arthur Pendragon. I will not forget that it was your blade that slew my mate, your treachery that bound me here. I will have my vengeance. One day, I will have my vengeance.”

  The vision faded and I came back to the real world dazed and disorientated. It took a moment for me to realise I was in my own body not Wyn’s. I shook my head to clear it and looked up into the concerned faces of Sam and Percy.

  “That was creepy,” Sam said with a small smile. “Your eyes rolled back – it looked like you were about to have some kind of fit.”

  I glanced over at Wyn, who also seemed a little out of it. “Creepy is a good word,” he said, rubbing his temples. “I’m not sure I like having you in my head like that.”

  “Not much fun for either of us.” A headache started to form behind my right eye. “So that’s why the dragon is so pissed. Because not only did Arthur kill his mate, but he thinks Arthur tricked him into Avalon. But it wasn’t Arthur; it was Merlin who came up with that plan.”

  Wyn nodded. “Arthur and I had no idea. I assumed Merlin had suggested the stone circle as protection from the dragon’s magic. I never thought he would make a deal with the Fair Folk. Apart from anything, they tend not to like involving themselves with our affairs. But either way, the dragon believed that Arthur was a coward, who rather than facing him, tricked him. I think that’s a big part of why he’s trying to force you into facing him in London. He doesn’t want to be tricked the same way twice.”

  “So I will have to face him. I will have to fight him.”

  Wyn grimaced. “I think it may be the only way.”

  For three days I went into full on panic mode. After all, St Georges Day was only a couple of weeks away, and we were no closer to finding out anything about the Silver Bough.

  More than anything I wanted Lance back. I couldn’t imagine facing down the dragon without him. I could barely even imagine it with him.

  As it was, it would be me, Percy and Wyn, up against a dragon that could take down a dozen knights without even trying. Even with Excalibur I couldn’t see how I was supposed to defeat him.

  Wyn and Percy tried desperately to pull me out of it, but in the end it was Sam who calmed me down with a single sentence.

  “You’re thinking too much.”

  It reminded me of something Arthur had once told me, when I’d been facing the wraiths. To stop thinking so much and let my body do what it knew how to do. Would facing the dragon be the same? Would the magic singing through my veins know what to do? Would that be enough? The wraiths were one thing; the dragon existed in a league of its own.

  I offered Sam a half smile. We were in the back of another English Lit class and Mackay was still teaching about Monmouth and Mallory, so I was paying as little attention as possible.

  It wasn’t in the curriculum and it wouldn’t be in the exams looming in a few months’ time, but the rest of the class didn’t know that.

  I, however, was fairly sure I knew far more about Arthur and the Round Table than Mallory ever did.

  But it did make me wonder. How did Monmouth and Mallory know so much? Had there been other accounts that had been lost? Or had they simply listened more closely to old Celtic folklore and legend? Had they written fanciful, romanticised visions on purpose?

  When class finally ended Mackay called to me.

  “Miss Page, would you stay back a moment?”

  Sam hesitated in the doorway but I waved her on and turned back to the now empty classroom.

  Mackay perched on the corner of his desk, cleaning his glasses on the edge of his shirt.

  “What do you want?” Any respect I usually showed teachers was gone with Mackay. He was a fraud anyway.

  “Just to check on you.”

  He tried to sound almost fatherly, but it was ruined by the edge of excitement in his voice.

  Our eyes locked for a long moment, and I was childishly pleased when he was the first to look away.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked finally.

  He glanced up from the floor. “What?”

  “Uncover Lance’s tomb? Why did you do it? Why couldn’t you have just left it alone?”

  The look he gave me was one of obvious confusion. “Sir Lancelot’s tomb is an important historical discovery. It is proof King Arthur existed. It changes everything.”

  Of course, I shouldn’t have expected him to understand. He couldn’t see that for me it wasn’t the tomb of some long dead historical figure, it was the final resting place, however strange it might seem, of the man I loved. To me it was an almost sacred place and it should have been left untouched.

  “You’re coming on the field trip aren’t you?” Mackay changed the subject so abruptly that my head span.

  “Sorry?”

  “The field trip to see the Royal Shakespeare Company?”

  To be honest, I’d forgotten about it. I vaguely remembered signing up for it not long after I’d gotten back. The Sixth Form English Lit class went every year to see Shakespeare in the Park.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said hesitantly.

  He beamed. “Glad to hear it. St Georges Day, in London, watching Shakespeare. You can’t get much more English than that.”

  The familiar feeling of fate and destiny taking over hit me. It was a feeling I hated. The sense that my path was being mapped out for me without a single conscious decision being made left me feeling helpless. Arthur had told me once to embrace it, that no man could fight his destiny. But now my fate or destiny was dragging all my classmates into the line of fire. Literally.

  I wouldn’t even want Anderson anywhere near the dragon when it finally came. My worst enemy and I wouldn’t wish it on him.

  “Are you sure, Sir?”

  Mackay cocked one eyebrow. “About the date? I should hope so. I booked the tickets. Is there a problem?”

  Of course there’s a problem, I wanted to shout at him. That’s the day a bloody great dragon is probably going to burn down London. Of all my teachers Mackay was the only one who would understand, but anything I told him would go straight back to the Order of Camelot, and I refused to give them anythin
g else they could use against me.

  Besides, when it came down to it, it solved one of my biggest problems. I would be in London on the 23rd of April. Unfortunately so would the rest of my class and a number of my teachers.

  “Keep your shield up! What good is it going to do you down there?”

  Wyn roughly grabbed the shield I held loosely at my side and hauled it up in front of me, pushing me back a few steps as he thrust it against my chest.

  “Lance never taught me to fight with a shield.” I knew my voice was whiney, but I couldn’t help it. Wyn and I had been at it for hours in a constant cold drizzle, and I felt like each of my joints was seizing up one by one, rusting up like the Tin Man.

  “Lance never taught you to fight with a shield because he doesn’t fight with a shield. He thought it slowed him down, and he was a cocky git to boot.”

  I glared at him, but couldn’t argue. When it came to fighting Lance could be pretty over confident. I knew that when fighting the dragon however, a shield might be the difference between life and death. It wasn’t fireproof, but it would withstand sharp talons.

  It was heavy though, the straps cut into my forearms and my shoulder ached. I lifted it in front of me again and steadied my stance. Wyn watched me for a moment and then lunged at me without warning. I blocked with the shield just in time, but the blow sent shockwaves up my arm and I stumbled back a few steps.

  Before I could regain my balance Wyn was on me again, blows hammering down, driving me back step by step. My foot hit a rock and I sprawled on my arse in the dirt. I looked up just in time to see Wyn’s sword whistling down towards me.

  Before I could raise either sword or shield another sword blocked the blow and Percy stepped into view.

  “All right, Gwain. Enough.”

  Wyn stepped back swearing. His t-shirt was drenched in sweat, a sight that made me feel fractionally better about my dismal performance.

  Even after I pushed myself back to my feet, Wyn was still swearing and muttering under his breath.

  He spun towards us as Percy dusted me off.