The Pendragon Legacy: Sons Of Camelot Book One

by Sarah Luddington

He shivered and whimpered. “Hurts,” he said, the sound coming through clenched teeth.

  “I know, but it’ll be fine. Nim will come and heal your wounds,” I assured him, or perhaps myself.

  “Why?” he blurred through the blood now bubbling out of his mouth.

  “I don’t know. Because we betrayed her, probably. Because she loves you and you didn’t realise. Because she’s fucking mad and has no self-control,” I said. My bitterness and anger caused Galahad to widen his right eye, the only one he could use.

  I heard feet rushing across the deck. Nim and Morgan were side by side. Both stopped the moment they saw us, Nim becoming very pale, Morgan flushing red.

  “All that blood...” Nim said weakly.

  “Gods’ hairy balls, fuck me,” Morgan said.

  “Don’t just stand there,” I snapped. “I need a clean cloth and Nim – healing – now!”

  She jumped slightly at my tone. Nim circumvented the pool of blood and knelt in front of Galahad. Her hand shook slightly when she lifted a piece of clean linen. “I will need you to both move and move quickly. Galahad, I want you to place your hand over the cloth. We’ll then help to get you somewhere I can see the wound clearly. We’ll have to wash it because I can’t heal what I can’t see. Are we clear, brother?”

  He nodded and his free hand grabbed hard at mine. I smiled and said, “We’ll move on three, alright?” Again he nodded but the trembling grew worse. “Galahad, I need you to calm down, the shock is setting in but if you give yourself over to it, things will become worse very quickly.”

  He nodded but couldn’t take a deep breath without choking on blood. “One, two, three...” His hand came away with mine, both sticky with blood. I saw the wound for the first time. The glint of teeth and jaw showed through the long deep tears and Galahad’s blood wept from the wounds too fast and too thick. Nim placed the cloth over his face, covering his jaw, cheek and eye, then placed his left hand back over the cloth.

  “Don’t let go and don’t try to speak,” she instructed with surprisingly firm words. Her eyes turned to me. “Help him up, move him slowly to the centre of the deck. Morgan,” she called out, “I need clean drinking water and more cloths. Grab my kit from our room. Lance, come and help Holt move Galahad.”

  My tall friend appeared and knelt on Galahad’s other side. He looked at me and nodded. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Galahad,” I said. “We need you to walk, because if we carry you, your face won’t be under your control. I know your legs feel like water but we are here to stop you stumbling or falling. It’s just that you can move more safely under your own steam.”

  He nodded. Lance and I held his elbows and a hand behind each shoulder. Everything I touched felt sticky with blood and the image of his ruined mouth kept wafting like some evil miasma through my mind. We counted once more and Galahad’s strong thighs lifted him off the deck. Everyone on board watched us rather than saw to their duties until Raven barked orders. A stool sat on deck, with a large clean bucket of water and a pile of cloths. Rex stood with Morgan waiting for us to reach them. Galahad moved slowly and I kept hearing small sounds of pain leaking out of him. I dared not act beyond the moment – beyond helping Galahad move as painlessly as possible over the canting deck. But I felt my mind racing behind the calming, gentle movements.

  Baying for the soul of the woman who’d hurt Galahad du Lac.

  We sat him carefully down on the stool and Nim knelt before her brother. “Right,” she said, and I could hear her trying to be brave. “I need to see the wound and clean it. Then we can think about how to heal it.” Her hands were trembling again. Galahad released me long enough to touch her face and nod very slightly, his right eye kind.

  Nim swallowed hard so she didn’t cry. “I feel at this point it is worth mentioning that I’ve never done a major healing, in fact I’ve never healed anything without mother’s help, so I’m not even sure this is going to work.”

  Nest stepped into my line of sight. “I can do it,” she said.

  I did not react well. “No.” Emphatic and final. Galahad glanced at me. “No,” I told him. “They aren’t touching you. Not again. I won’t allow it.”

  “The child is used to working with others,” Nest said. “I can channel my own gift through her. If I intend harm she’ll know but I don’t, my Lord.” Her tone was formal, her gaze downcast and submissive like a good wolf.

  Galahad tugged on my hand and nodded, his eyes beseeching. Raven came toward me. “Why don’t you come with me, Sire, and we can leave them alone,” he said. “Let the women do their work on your boy.”

  “I’m not leaving him,” I said.

  “Holt, you have to,” Nim said quietly, wary of my rising temper. I glowered and she hurriedly explained. “If you are here for a healing of this size and complexity I might do something stupid like bond the two of you. Mother warned me over and over about how our fathers were bonded and all that mess with Tancred. You shouldn’t be here considering how strongly you feel for Galahad. You don’t want to be tied to him forever.” Her voice drained away with whatever she saw in my face.

  Did I want to be bound to Galahad du Lac? I tried to think with head not heart but it wasn’t easy. We were not fated to be together like our fathers. We were not the Black Wolf and White Hart of Camelot. We just two men who thought they loved each other more than they wanted anyone else but that could just be today.

  I knelt beside Galahad. “She’s right, I shouldn’t be here. You don’t want to be bonded to me. If she needs me, she’ll call but I am no use to you right now.”

  His right eye swam with tears and he tried to speak but none of us could understand the words. I became more distressed when he grabbed at me.

  “Alright, alright. I’ll help her clean the wound but then I’m leaving until it’s done,” I said. He simmered down.

  I gently clasped his left hand and pulled it away from his jaw and cheek. The cloth stuck in places and was already soaked to the point of dripping. Galahad didn’t make a sound. I did. I couldn’t help the low moan which escaped when I saw the damage. I couldn’t believe Valla capable of the hate necessary to do something so awful.

  The smooth perfection of his high cheekbone and strong jaw no longer existed. A bloody pulp of flesh and shredded muscle sat in its place leaking bodily fluids everywhere. I saw his teeth, his jawbone and eye socket. She’d struck at a slight angle so the whole mess went from his left temple to his chin, catching his lips as well. I’d not known wolf paws could be so sharp.

  He watched me and saw my reaction. Then he whimpered and tried to turn away.

  “No!” I cried out. “No, Galahad. I love you.” He turned back at my loud outburst. “There, I said it in front of the entire ship and your sisters. I love you. I am in love with you and we will deal with this. You are my liege lord,” I said more quietly. “I swear fealty to you and only you. I have no beginning and no end without you. No meaning and no thought.”

  The look of shock in his good eye made me laugh. “Yes, my love. You are my liege lord and I am the first person to swear fealty to you. We’ll do it all properly when we return. We’ll have a ceremony in Camelot and when you take the throne, you’ll have another. I’ll be the sword behind your throne and you shall be mine – not that I need it. Camelot’s a doddle to run compared to The City.” I continued to talk as Nim soaked clean rags and dabbed at the mess on his face. I told him how I’d felt the first moment I’d seen him, days before I’d dared to speak to him.

  He’d been difficult for me to find but I’d first seen him riding along the edge of a river. His clothes were immaculate, his hair braided in a long single plait down his back. He’d been trotting Sherriff with the sun making his armour gleam and I’d waited in the shadows of a nearby copse, dressed in green and brown, just watching and trying to assess this handsome young warrior.

  The whole time I spoke he watched only me, as did most of the crew. Morgan held Lance’s hand and they just listened. None of us wanted
to look at the ravaged state of his beautiful face. I spoke to his eyes and for our future.

  Nim finally said, “I’m ready.”

  “I have to go,” I said.

  He clutched at my hand and managed a small, “No.”

  “Sweetheart, I can’t stay. If I do I’ll ruin everything. I don’t want us to bond until we can do it voluntarily. I want you to do it, with your fey heritage, not Nim because of an accident. I don’t want to saddle us with all the same problems our families have dealt with for years.” Tactful, that’s me.

  Galahad let me go, but he touched my cheek in such a way I wondered if he’d like the choice to be removed from him and just be forced to love me. Raven reached for my shoulder and I rose. “I’ll be close,” I promised and kissed Galahad’s head.

  “What happened?” Raven asked, as we walked away.

  “What do you think?” I asked dully.

  “The shifter found out about the two of you and reacted badly,” he said.

  “She went for me. Galahad pushed me out of the way and took the full force of the blow. If she’d hit me it would have killed me, she was aiming for my throat. His face just happened to be in the wrong place.”

  We walked into his private parlour on the ship. “Fucking hell,” Raven said. After a long pause where he poured me a large shot of brandy, he said, “What are you going to do with her?”

  I looked at him over the rim of the glass. “What do you think?”

  The gold ring in his eyebrow rose. “Holt, before you act, think. If you kill her it won’t make you any friends among the wolves. Not even your Uncle Tancred would be able to forgive you – not completely.”

  I didn’t say anything, just swirled the brandy in the expensive glass, staring into it and wishing I’d not left Galahad alone.

  “He must mean a great deal to you,” Raven said quietly.

  “I’ve never felt like this,” I said, still looking into the amber liquid. I noticed the dry blood covering my hands and clenched my fist, making it flake and crack. The image of Galahad’s ruined face once more filled my mind and rage finally replaced reason.

  I placed the expensive glass down and moved toward the door. Raven shifted. “Holt, where are you going?” he asked.

  “You know where,” I growled.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  I was through the door before he could stop me and I descended on the galley like a vengeful god. I saw Kerwin sitting with Valla at a bench bolted to the floor of the ship. She looked up the moment she saw me. Panic flashed over her face. Kerwin rose, stepping in front of her, clearly meaning to protect the woman. My sword remained in the cabin I’d shared with Galahad that first night, but in my current frame of mind I needed no artificial aid to kill a wolf in either form.

  “Get the fuck out of my way,” I snarled at Kerwin.

  “My Lord Pendragon, I know –” He fell over backward, clutching his face, the blood already staining his mouth and nose.

  Valla’s panic broke her resolve and she lunged for me, trying to push me hard in the chest so she could force me out of her way. I blended with her movement, struck the back of her head and her outstretched arm making a circular motion. Her forward momentum changed to downward and she didn’t have room to roll. She hit the deck and the wall hard enough to rattle the cooking pots.

  I turned at a noise behind me and saw Raven keeping Kerwin down with his sword pointing to the wolf’s chest. I bent and hauled the woman up by the back of her doublet.

  “You fucking animal,” I growled.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Blood trickled down her cheek from a small cut in her hairline. “I didn’t mean –”

  “Didn’t mean what? To hurt Galahad or to try to kill me? Or the foul words you used?” I spat in her face. She flinched. “Don’t fucking try to play the poor little misunderstood shifter,” I continued. “I’ll fucking have your pelt as a coat by the time I’m finished with you, bitch.”

  She struggled in my grasp. I slammed her into the wooden wall and it creaked in protest. I wanted to smash her face into smithereens. I wanted to make her pick up her own teeth from the deck of the ship. I wanted to taste her blood on my tongue. I had never, ever been so angry.

  “Holt, put her down.” Lance appeared in the galley’s doorway. “Sire, please, put her down. If you wish her arrested I can do that, but you cannot kill her.” He sounded so reasonable.

  “Don’t interfere,” I snarled.

  His strong hand grabbed my arm and pulled down, trying to remove Valla from the bulkhead. “Sire, this isn’t what we do in Camelot,” he said quietly.

  I stared hard into Valla’s face and saw the fear. No defiance, just fear – the kind that has the victim knowing they will die but scared of how it will happen. My mouth twisted into a smile. I shoved her once more and let go. “You are fucking lucky,” I said.

  Valla slumped down the wooden wall.

  Lance said, “You are needed on deck. I’ll have her arrested.”

  “Have her fucking keelhauled for all I care, just get her out of my sight,” I snapped at him. I pushed past him and moved quickly to the ladder which would take me to the deck. It took moments for me reach the huddled group of people gathered around the pool of blood and the sable haired figure.

  Everyone moved as if I were a strong wind and they the leaves, brushed aside. “Holt,” Nim said. She leaned against Nest, both women looking pale and tragic. “Holt, I’m sorry.”

  I glanced at her but didn’t really understand. Galahad sat on the stool, his elbows on his knees, his back bowed and the long hair covering the wounded side of his face. I knelt before the still man. “Galahad?”

  He didn’t move or speak. The hair kept the left side of his face hidden. I reached out slowly, not wanting to spook him and realised my hand trembled. The soft hair felt like silk the moment it touched my fingertips. I pushed it back and gradually revealed the damage. Slowly his eyes lifted to mine.

  I smiled, the rage of moments before washing back into the darkness. “Hello, handsome,” I said.

  “Don’t, Holt,” he said, the words pronounced slightly differently because of the damage. Tears filled his eyes and trailed down his cheeks, the left rising and falling over the new bumps and crevices of permanent scarring.

  “Will the swelling go down?” I asked without turning from the wound but directing the question to Nim.

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “The scarring should improve over the years but I can’t take it all away. We are far out to sea and both Nest and I are earth bound healers. To be honest I’m amazed we managed this much.”

  “You are strong,” Nest said behind me.

  “Thank you, Nim,” I said. “Can you walk?” I asked Galahad.

  He nodded and I helped him stand. With small steps over the silent deck of the Echo we walked slowly below. When we reached the room he’d first shared with me and then Valla, I sat him on the bed. I tossed out everything belonging to the woman and firmly closed the door. Low-level light filtered in from outside and I began removing his bloody shirt.

  “Holt, how bad is it?” he asked eventually. “My face feels like fire and ice all at once.”

  I stopped and sat beside him. Very slowly I trailed my index finger down his cheek near his ear. “Can you feel that?” I asked, watching his beautiful eyes.

  He nodded. I smiled in reassurance. I traced another line along the bottom of his jaw and asked the same question with my eyes, he nodded again. I touched his forehead, his eyebrow, his nose and he nodded to every gentle caress. I cupped his jaw and ran my thumb over his mouth. I don’t know how she’d done it but Nim had repaired his lips. He nodded and slowly drew my thumb into his mouth. I bent forward and kissed him lightly.

  “See, not so bad, my love,” I whispered. I traced a line under his eye. “Can you feel that?”

  “No,” he said.

  “That’s alright, it’s whole but was badly torn before, I could see the socket which means they’ve done an amazi
ng job,” I tried to reassure him. “The nerves will heal on their own I’m sure.”

  “But I will never look the same,” he said.

  I now focused on the worst of the damage. His prominent cheekbone still echoed the beauty of the right side of his face, but the flesh was ravaged. Deep scars ran over the bone and down to his lower jaw, four of them.

  “I won’t lie to you, they are a mess right now but I can’t see the bone or your teeth so I’m counting it as a win. The scarring is raw and red, it’s deep and it’s not pretty but we are warriors, we get hurt and we are marked by our battles.”

  “A lover’s tiff isn’t very heroic,” he said morosely.

  I laughed slightly. “No, it isn’t but we can lie about that bit perhaps. Honestly, Galahad, it’s not as bad as I first feared. Once the rawness goes over the coming days and you get some sun on it, things won’t seem so bad.”

  Tears rose in his eyes once more and his hands reached for mine. “Can you love me?”

  I rose and kissed his mouth for answer. “I’m afraid I will always love you, Galahad du Lac, regardless of the consequences.”

  “You sound sad,” he said.

  “I worry I am not what you really want or need,” I said gently. “At some point you will meet someone, marry and provide Albion with heirs. I will have to move on, but it will be hard.”

  He frowned, or tried to; I think the wound pained him because he almost touched his face before dropping his hand back to mine in his lap. “Such dark thoughts, Holt. I don’t want you to have such dark thoughts. I want to make you happy.”

  In that moment I didn’t have any happy thoughts to give him. Valla had loved him enough to fight for him but she’d guessed about us, he hadn’t told her, we were here by default because of a terrible accident. And it was an accident, she hadn’t meant to hurt Galahad, she’d meant to hurt me.

  I needed to escape but a ship is not a good place to try to escape from those on board. “You should sleep,” I said.

  “Make love to me,” he said.

  I blinked in surprise. “Aren’t you hurting too much?”