“You are my squire, you have every right.”
“There is one thing I haven’t told you,” she said quietly.
I felt the tension return to my body at her words, “What?” I couldn’t hide the darkness. She withdrew from my arms and I let her.
“It’s to do with the spell. I think we might be able to break it, so we could have an honest love between us if that’s what you want. I didn’t mention it because you were so angry there didn’t seem much point.” She rushed with her words as though terrified I would turn into a monster again before she had a chance to speak. “Merlin will be able to break this spell. Then we can discover how much of this is right.” Her eyes pleaded with me not to be angry with her.
The anger burned but I realised its pointlessness. There was nothing I could do except hurt us both, “Merlin can help?”
She nodded. I gently pulled her back into my arms, “Then we have a place to start, Else. I am not giving you back to your brother. I wouldn’t have done it before this spell, I will not do it now,” I thought I understood how I felt. I did love this woman. What form that love took, I did not yet know, but admitting it existed seemed a good place to start. “We will tell them we are married. Then, when we find Merlin and when the spell is broken, either we can stay together or I will find you somewhere safe to live. But you are now my responsibility. You are my squire.”
“I cannot give you anything of myself,” she cried desperately.
“You don’t need too. We cannot afford for my mind to be lost in a cloud of fog, so lying together isn’t a plan. We need time, Else.” I gazed down into her brown eyes, without true physical contact and knew, spell or not, I would give my life for this woman. She deserved it far more than some I’d known. I held her face and she turned into my hand, her warm breath against the leather covering my palm. I bit back a groan knowing she would bolt if I proved unmanageable.
“We should rest now,” I said, needing very much to be alone. She stepped back and the void of her absence burned through me but this time, this time I could have her back if I needed her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The journey to find my friend proved uneventful, wet and long. Almost a week on bad roads in bad weather. We rode over a hill late one afternoon in the pouring rain. The trip did enable us to find our feet with each other under the new circumstances and we seemed to be managing our situation well. Every morning she broke camp and I trained with Ash if the weather and space permitted or I practiced sword techniques. When the pain of separation drove me to needing her or a drink too badly for me to continue, I’d stop. She would take my hand in both of hers and just hold me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her and we didn’t speak, but the compromise helped my nerves and sanity. Thus, we managed my addiction. When she didn’t have to give my body its fix we would wear gloves and causal contact became common. I still ached for her, but it felt different. It came from me, so I welcomed my desire and carefully nurtured my feelings for the woman, not the fairy.
Geraint’s holdings were large. His family had taken me in as a squire, so I knew his land well and we’d been inside his borders most of the day. We now sat overlooking his central home. I watched the bustle of the thriving township preparing for the night. The home of the Fitzwilliam’s remained as large and imposing as always. A daunting prospect for any invading army.
The town lay in a tight sprawl under the watchful eye of a huge stone keep. Geraint’s father built the keep and it proved its worth against marauding enemies. The walls were seven feet thick in most places, with small slit windows on the outside. What remained invisible to Else was the inside of the keep. Geraint’s mother made certain it would also serve as a home. A large courtyard overlooked by full windows and open arches gave the place natural light and warmth. The back of the keep housed the great hall and kitchens, while the front, contained the living quarters. These overlooked the shoreline of the small cove and the sea. The cliff acted as a perfect defender. The land tumbled to the edge of this dangerous cliff, making the buildings around the keep sit on different levels. The effect being a slightly haphazard smattering of stone and wood buildings, clinging onto the edge of Cornwall and threatening to tip into the sea at the prompting of a strong cough.
Surrounding the whole stood a wall, designed to act as a killing field between the enemies and the defenders. It danced up and down the land trying to marry together the different levels. If the wall were ever breached the enemies would be trapped in a no man’s land. The whole town’s populous fit inside the keep if necessary and helped defend their home. It worked; people loved having that level of safety provided by their Lord. In return, they helped to maintain their assets.
Else touched my arm to bring my attention to her, “We need to finish the conversation about what we are going to tell your friends.”
I’d been thinking the same thing. “We tell them we are married,” I said firmly.
“That’s not fair on you and will cause chaos with Stephen. Please, Lancelot, I need to defend myself. I have no wish to use you to protect my reputation.” She meant every stubborn word, the set of her jaw the only clue I needed.
I sighed, “Else, telling them we are not married makes you vulnerable in more ways than one. Accept my help and live on my honour for this.”
“You are the Queen’s champion,” she continued.
I ignored that comment, “I am going to be your husband if Merlin manages to break this damn spell so I can love you without losing my mind,” I insisted.
We both sat on our respective wet horses and stared at each other. I’d just proposed. I hadn’t meant to put my thoughts in those terms. Another complication I didn’t need, but I also didn’t want to take the words back. Else blended with me perfectly. Rode as well as I did, she’d proved herself on the road and against attackers. If I had this woman in my life, I would never be lonely. I’d been alone for a very long time.
“Oh,” she finally said.
I nodded once, slightly jerkily, “Good, now we know where we stand. We belong to each other and once this spell is broken we make it official, in the meantime Stephen can scream all he likes and he can’t take you from me.”
Else hesitated and then said, “Right.” She rode forward, Mercury walking with his head down, plodding slowly.
I frowned. Somehow, that didn’t feel like the correct response, especially under the circumstances. I didn’t quite know how to or even if, I’d have a definitive answer out of her. Did this mean she didn’t love me enough to marry me despite losing her virginity to me? I forced the problem to one side. It squirmed, protesting, wanting me to worry at it, but I knew how to control annoying thoughts. I forced the concerns into a dark corner and beat them into silence, informing them I had more pressing difficulties.
We rode down into the town, through yet another wet league. On the outskirts of the town, a man with dark red hair, slightly taller even than me, helped a blacksmith move a huge cart from the road. I forced Ash on and when I reached the site, I slid off his side and took hold of the same corner of the cart that Geraint lifted.
He didn’t look at me properly, just said, “Lift.”
I smiled. We lifted. It reminded me of the huge boulder I’d been forced to move alone in the wood. We both groaned with the effort. The cart lifted, we walked round the few paces necessary and dropped it off the road.
“At least something’s gone right today,” Geraint said cheerfully. His default state. He finally turned to me to say thank you. When he realised who stood by his side, he cried out, inarticulate with joy and swept me into a huge bear hug.
We embraced for a long time. I hadn’t realised how much I missed him. Arthur refused him access to me when I’d been incarcerated, so we’d not been together for over a year.
“You’re alive,” he choked.
“You doubted?” I asked. He pulled back to look me over as though I were a prize horse.
“I tried to find you as soon as I could,” he said. His
voice tinged with emotion.
“I’ve been a long way from home,” I deflected.
“You look,” he paused. “You look wet.”
I laughed. “I am wet, my wife and I need shelter.”
Geraint hesitated. I watched with amusement as he processed this information, “Wife? You’ve been busy.”
“You have no idea,” I said looking with love at my friend. His hazel eyes stared passed me and I knew he looked at Else.
“Wife,” he nodded. “A good idea for you, my friend, it'll keep you out of trouble.”
I laughed, “I doubt it.”
“And you still own that bloody minded horse,” his face fell as he took in Ash.
“You’re just not brave enough to ride him,” I said clapping him on the back. We moved toward the town. Ash fell in with Else as always.
“The only time I was stupid enough to try, I ended up on my head,” he moaned as he walked with me under his arm. Geraint is the only man I know who makes me feel small. He suddenly released me and went to Else. “So, you’ve tamed my friend.”
Else smiled, “I wouldn’t go that far, my Lord. He’s consented to be tamed.”
Geraint laughed, “I have no doubt, but may I have your name, if you are to be a sister to our brotherhood?”
Else glanced at me. She didn’t want to announce her presence under her real name without permission. I stopped Geraint and said very quietly, “Her name is Eleanor de Clare. But to me she is Else, and I think it would be wise to keep that name in public.”
Geraint might look like a jolly giant but he had a razor sharp mind, “You married the missing de Clare girl? Bloody hell, Lancelot, you really don’t like to make life easy.” He stared up at Else and she smiled apologetically. “So, where have you been?” he asked her.
“Avoiding marriage,” she said lightly.
He laughed, then shook his head, “Lancelot, you are a fucking idiot but you do make my life infinitely more interesting. Now, why are you here? You risk hanging by returning home.”
“It’s a long story,” I said. “I think we ought to tell it in the warm and dry.”
It took the remainder of the soggy day to unpack the horses, for Else to dry Ash so Geraint’s grooms didn’t have to deal with him, and for me to dry my armour. We joined Geraint in a small room he used when he didn’t have important guests to entertain. I headed straight for the fire and warmed myself while the servants scurried about with food. I realised one of the maid’s kept me warm in times past, she blushed and smiled as I noticed her. I smiled back, couldn’t help myself, until I saw the expression on Else’s face. Angry seemed to cover it. I firmly turned my back on the girl. Geraint chuckled not missing a beat.
Once the room cleared, Else and I sat at the table and we ate our first decent meal for days.
“You need wine, my friend,” Geraint said.
I stopped him pouring, “No, I don’t. I’m in training and I have a few too many problems to be drinking right now.”
“You’re not drinking?” Geraint asked. I could hear the suspicion in his voice. “You’ve not taken to religion have you, Lancelot?”
I laughed, “No, not in the way you are thinking. Let me explain what’s been happening to me since I left England.” And I did. Everything. It took us hours. Else taking over when my own memories began to muddle things up and she explained everything she knew about Merlin and Arthur.
“So,” I rounded off long into the night, “we have to go to Arthur and I need Merlin to help him and undo the spell set on Else and I by her sister. Merlin also needs to help Arthur defeat the fey that are using people like Stephen de Clare to seed chaos in England. Apparently.”
Geraint looked at us both. We’d moved to the fire and Else sat at my feet on a large rug. I stroked her hair with my gloves covering my skin.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You are not human,” he pointed to Else, “but you are the adoptive daughter of the de Clare’s.” She nodded. “You are destined to save Arthur from the rival fairy family which has control over the de Clare’s,” he said to me.
“Sounds about right,” I said.
“You want to challenge Arthur in a tournament so he is forced to listen to you and pardon you for past crimes and to top it all you’re under a spell so you can’t touch the woman you married.” Geraint sat back in his chair, “That’s not complicated at all.”
“The marriage part is a slight exaggeration,” I said. “I just don’t want Stephen to take her from me. If he thinks we are married he can’t. But I can’t actually marry her until the spell is broken because if we have physical contact it sends me to a bad place.”
“Of course, why not make this even harder, what the hell?” Geraint said taking a large swallow of his wine. He thought for a while and I let him work through all the ramifications. “Fine,” he said at last, “this is what we do.” I smiled at the ‘we’, I knew he would not let me down. “We make you a black knight. You fight Arthur and you’d better bloody win without hurting him or I’ll kill you, and we talk to him.”
“You really think the fight is necessary?” Else asked.
“I think it is the only way Lancelot can deal with Arthur and the whole Court. He needs to re-establish his authority over the rest of us and become Arthur’s second once more. If there is one thing us dumb men understand it’s war. But I fear beating Arthur is not going to be easy. He’s changed since your punishment. Something in him feels broken and he is so angry with the world. At times I’ve worried about his sanity. He will welcome a fight but whether he will listen to you or not I don’t know.” Geraint frowned and studied me. “You too have changed, my friend. I cannot quite work out how, but you are different. Perhaps you can reach him, someone needs to bring him back, he’s grown as hard as you used to be and the Court doesn’t need another relentless killer.”
“I’m not a relentless killer, Geraint,” I said as Else rose to put another log in the large fireplace.
“You are when Arthur needs you to be. Sometimes, I wish he’d used one of the rest of us instead of you to defend his lands. You grew hard, Lancelot, but I think this girl is changing that,” he said. He stood suddenly, “Now we need sleep. We will plan this tomorrow and in the meantime you two have separate rooms.”
A servant appeared and we left Geraint to his thoughts. I followed the man who held up a small tallow lamp. The light flickered on the bare stone walls and the wooden floor. Else and I didn’t speak but I sensed her apprehension. I had to admit my own emotions were unsteady. Walking to separate sleeping quarters did not seem like a good idea. We might have slept on different sides of the campfire every night but we were together. The man stopped, and showed us a simple wooden door.
“Your wife’s room,” he said. He eyed us suspiciously. His clothes were simple but warm, his small eyes and baldhead shone in the lamplight.
“And mine?” I asked, willing myself not to punch him on the nose for his tone.
“Next door, my Lord.”
“That will be all,” I told him. He left and took the lamp with him. Else and I were plunged into darkness, the only light came from the half moon through high arches.
As my eyes adjusted, I realised she stared hard at the ground. I took her hands in mine, “It will be alright.”
“You will suffer alone,” she said.
“I’ll live,” I told her. Though after some of the nights I’d suffered recently I might wish I didn’t.
“If you need me, come to me,” she looked up, her warm brown eyes earnest.
I ached to hold her close, to take her into that room and make love for hours. I wanted to hear her cry out my name. “Fuck,” I muttered. I’d learnt that even thoughts of sex with this woman were enough to cause an ache so intense it almost broke my resolution.
Else released my hands and stepped back, well out of arms reach, “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said and vanished into her room, firmly closing the door.
I stayed where I was
until I heard her begin to cry and I realised I couldn’t do a damn thing to help her except leave her alone. I walked to my own room. A fire crackled merrily, warming the small space. A single bed against the wall and an arrow slit for a window the only items except rugs and tapestries trying to keep the cold and damp out. I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands, running my fingers through my finally dry hair.
“If I didn’t love Arthur so damned much this would be a really bad idea,” I muttered to myself. I finally began to undress, slowly because the effort sapped my will to finish the job. Sleep came in drips and drabs, the small body next door calling constantly.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The brutally cold air bit into my naked chest but my effort made the sweat flow nonetheless. I’d been awake since before dawn. Training hard took my mind to a simple place. The dull light of another blustery early winter day left my blade, hard cold steel. No light glinted as I wove the weapon through the air. It felt good to be in Geraint’s training ground. In my youth, I had spent almost every waking moment, other than the times I had formal duties, being here, becoming the best of us. Just taking this time, the quiet time of dawn, to work alone made my mind relax in a way sleep did not.
“Those scars are bad,” Geraint appeared at the edge of the sand pit. The training ground lay beside the main living quarters in the first circle of the defence near the stables. I heard the sea pounding the rocks below.
I stopped and grabbed my shirt from the rail. “I didn’t hear you arrive,” I said throwing it over my back and avoiding the subject.
Geraint looked at me with his hazel eyes taking on a greenish cast in the dawn light. “We need to talk about that,” he said pointing at me, meaning my back.
“No, we don’t,” I wiped sweat off my face with my sleeve. “I did what I had to do, so did Arthur.”
“But you plan on fighting him and I’d like to keep both of my best friends alive,” Geraint said.
“I hold no ill will toward Arthur for this, it wasn’t his fault,” I pushed my blade into its scabbard. I used a little more force than necessary, a fact not lost on my friend.
Lancelot and the Wolf Page 8
