The Last Knight (Knight Magick 1)

by Candace Sams

  “I do. I took out my anger on you and David. I’ll send him a contrite message. As to Jean, she didn’t know. I didn’t warn her about such strange events. She’s new to this life, and hasn’t been taught a healthy respect of approaching strangers. She simply came upon some fellow riding and spoke to him. As friendly as she is, that would be normal for her…in her old life. As to the life she has now, she depends on me to teach her. I failed and it could have got her killed. This whole incident is my responsibility,” he slowly repeated.

  Mrs. Gast smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. “No harm done. This is a situation none of us could have expected, sir. This man is apparently a stranger to his own organization. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Gast. As always, you’re my right hand.”

  “And always will be. I’ll be in my office if you need me, sir.”

  He slowly walked out of the study.

  Jean stood in her room waiting.

  He’d come, sooner or later. There’d be the angry butt-chewing for doing something he’d told her she could.

  If he thought she’d cower, either because of his size or his position within POSI, he had another think coming.

  A knock sounded on her door. Instead of shouting for whoever it was to come on in, she considered how very soft that rap on the door was.

  When she’d been a teen, and had done some stupid thing that her parents were either angry or confused about, there’d been a very hearty pounding followed by her full name.

  ‘Jean Loraine Long…your mother and I need to speak with you this instant!’

  The following counseling session, for whatever transgression, was always firm, but had always ended with everyone hugging. As a result, she tried to never make the same mistake twice. New ones always came up, but not the same ones.

  For the rest of eternity, someone—if not Garrett Bloodnight—would forever be knocking on her door, upbraiding her over something she didn’t do right. There was so much to learn, in a game in which she’d never wanted to be a player.

  The knock came again, but was followed by a soft voice.

  “Jean? It’s Gart. Can we talk? Please?”

  Confused by the soft entreaty when he’d been so very outraged, even crazily so, whatever anger she might have felt suddenly fled. He wasn’t the type of man to play games. He wouldn’t try to get her to open the door only to then vent his anger.

  “Come in,” she announced.

  The door half-opened. A man that her former girlfriends might have referred to as a giant underwear model sidled into her small foyer.

  “Staff is cleaning the hallway. Do you mind if I close the door so our conversation remains between us?” he kindly asked.

  “Please do.”

  Once the door was closed, she wondered if she was giving his controlled persona too much credit. Still, he remained calm. In fact, his expression seemed almost repentant.

  “I want to apologize,” he readily offered. “I told you that you could go anywhere on the estate. You were doing nothing wrong. My response was over the top. Way over.”

  A bit taken aback, she moved a little closer. “Why did you get so angry?”

  “That man, whoever he is, may be totally harmless. I checked him out with home office, and a description seems to match what David Harrington knows of the fellow. But he’s not following protocol. You’re still so new that you couldn’t tell he was immortal. He knew that. I don’t think he told you what he was. That concerns me.”

  “No. He didn’t say anything about his being immortal.” She swallowed hard. “You th-think he’s dangerous?”

  “I don’t like him being on my land, and not announcing his presence. If he’s from POSI, he knows how to approach another immortal’s domain.” He shrugged. “That notwithstanding, I did something I rarely do.”

  “Sir?”

  “I let my guard down where your safety is concerned. I could have got you killed.”

  She opened her mouth to say something like, oh, it’s okay. Clearly, it wasn’t okay. He was really concerned. His angst made her concerned.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jean. In any other case, I’d have never let any immortal trainee go out without a claviger. Or without me by their side. For some crazy reason that no one has ever been able to figure out, we can’t get cellular reception up on that hill. You couldn’t even call for help, assuming you had your phone.” He ran his hands through his hair. “May I sit?”

  She pointed to a large, overstuffed green chair which had seemed huge until he plopped unceremoniously into it, filling it to the last inch.

  “It’s been a long time since I was called up for any mission. I don’t do that sort of thing any longer. As I told you, I’m too well known. But there are rules. I seem to have forgotten even the slightest of these.”

  “Should I have had a weapon?”

  “Not being trained, it’d have done you little good. Apparently, this Jon Merdwyn fellow is very old, very well protected by the agency, and quite respected. That’s no reason for me to have totally disregarded what might have happened. Where you’re concerned, I seem to have completely disregarded the most minimal rules,” he reasserted. “I don’t know why. This isn’t like me.”

  “Anna didn’t seem to mind my wandering about. Everyone else was okay with it. So, your doing so isn’t out of line.”

  “We’ve never had any trouble up here. However, the first rule you learn as an immortal is to expect the unexpected.” He slowly shook his head. “This is all on me. I’m responsible. This man’s appearance has reminded me, in the most alarming way possible, that something bad can happen when you don’t pay attention.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Jean. I must insist that you go nowhere without me, from now on. This rule is more restrictive than I’d have liked. Today could have ended up far worse. This Merdwyn person could have been some rogue. I’d have not known anything was wrong until you didn’t show up this evening. We wouldn’t even have missed you for tea since you frequently miss every meal between breakfast and dinner.”

  “When will I be able to feel when an immortal is around?”

  “It’s different for all of us. It took me a little over a year. But it could just have easily been some human zealot looking to take out an immortal. They’re all over the place.”

  “I…I used to be one of them. With the exception that I’d have never hurt any immortal,” she admitted. “I was just ignorant.”

  He stared at her in silence, for a long time.

  She slowly shook her head in confusion. “Why did you have to contact home office about this man? Why don’t you know him? As long as you’ve been around, I’d have thought—”

  “That’s an entirely other issue to which I have no response. As stated, I’ve never heard of the man. Apparently, David Harrington has seen the fellow briefly, but even David knows nothing about this particular immortal. He could give me no information other than a vague physical description over the phone. Merdwyn, or whoever he is, is apparently protected by Her Majesty, and isn’t on any public list. He’s outside the laws. Likely with the queen’s permission.”

  “Holy God!” She fully understood his anger now. “But why must we adhere to the rules? Why is this man given privileges?”

  “I don’t know, but if it takes me forever I’m going to find out. Even if David warned me not to go there.”

  “No, sir! Please don’t. If the queen knows about this and is keeping it so secret that Mr. Harrington seems to be clueless, your digging into the subject might cause all kinds of grief. Her Majesty must have her reasons. There must be security issues that even you can’t know about.”

  “This is what worries me. Your perception of the situation is spot on, Jean. You’ve got a good brain. High intellect. Keep using it even if I sometimes don’t use mine.”

  “Thank you, sir. Your anger was entirely logical. I wasn’t thinking u
p on that hill, or I’d have never let a stranger get that close. As you say…I won’t go up there again, unless you’re with me, or you tell me to go there. No matter where I am, I’ll carry my cell phone, even if it might not work in certain places. I’ll follow any other rule you impose.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to impose any.”

  “The way I see it,” she explained, “we all need to be careful. Why would this man be way up here, in the north? Makes no sense unless he’s working some case or something. Furthermore, what if he thinks of us as being expendable? Could that happen? Would the agency sanction a law-abiding immortal’s execution? Could they do that if this man, in his omnipotence, believes we were in his way?”

  “That won’t happen. Not on my watch, not ever! At any rate, we only have David’s recollection of the fellow. Home office won’t send me a digital photo.”

  “Those are the rules as I understand them,” Jean angrily said. “Home office can’t legally send a .jpg from one authorized computer to another. But the entire world can photograph immortals and post them anywhere they want to. Seems very odd that the rules are conveniently abandoned for this man, in his favor.”

  “Precisely!” Gart replied, then went silent on the subject for a long moment. “As I see it, I still have my employees to protect. Merdwyn, or whoever he is, will have to prove himself before he comes near anyone on this property again. I have no reason to believe the guy on the hill is who David described on the phone. Apparently, the bastard might not even be required to have a damned claviger.”

  Jean’s eyes widened. “How could anyone get that kind of exemption?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened to me. As it is, I can’t check on the fellow without assuming he’ll find out. And if I piss off the wrong sources, I’ll get called out for insubordination.”

  “Is that what Mr. Harrington said?”

  “He did.”

  “Of all the bloody gall!” she muttered.

  “We must assume Merdwyn isn’t legitimate. I don’t care what kind of clout he may have, this guy needs to prove he’s with the agency.”

  “How?”

  Gart shook his head. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Please, be very careful, sir?”

  He half-smiled. “Worried about me?”

  “Yes. I am. I trust you. We don’t know who he is.”

  “I promise, this won’t happen again, Jean. I may be big, but I’m not stupid.”

  “Sir, I’d have never used that adjective to describe you.”

  He leaned forward in his chair. “I’ll repeat my profound apologies for being so careless. My lack of judgement would have angered your great grandfather. He wouldn’t have known the imbecile I seem to have become. My wits seem to have grown soft. I’m not entirely sure I’m the right person to train you for more than the very basics.”

  “Don’t say that! Please…you sound like you might send me away.”

  “You might be better off.”

  She moved closer to him. “Please, don’t! I’ll train harder than anyone you’ve ever known. I shouldn’t have wandered all over the property, without letting someone know where I was. In our mutual defense, we rarely see any strangers up in these old hills. So, this a lesson we both learned. Can’t we leave it at that?”

  “If it was just my safety we’re talking about, it’d be one thing. But I don’t have the right to put you, or anyone else on this property, in harm’s way.”

  “This is Merdwyn’s doing. Not yours. I want to stay here. Please, sir. Please?”

  He stood and slowly walked toward her door.

  “We’re still training in the morning? Right?” she tentatively asked.

  He turned to face her once more. “You can stay, Jean. Truth is, I can’t say for sure that this fellow hasn’t shown up because of you. I feel responsible for your future.”

  “Why would Jon Merdwyn be here because of me?”

  “I don’t know. His arrival, as I’m told, is likely not coincidental.”

  “I see,” she said, then chewed on her lower lip.

  “If you stay here, training is going to be rough, Jean. Where I might have kept it slow, we can no longer afford the luxury of patience. I’m not going to let someone…another immortal…come on my land and make a fool of me. I don’t care if he’s got the entire Household Cavalry at his beck and call. This is a mistake that, thankfully, we’re still here to correct. And I mean to do so.”

  “Sir—”

  “My inattentiveness and arrogant presumption could have cost us. That’s an end to the subject.” He paused. “I won’t be at dinner tonight. In fact, you won’t see me until tomorrow morning. I think that, from now on, a certain distance should be kept between us. I can’t train someone to whom I become too close. I can’t let something like this happen again.”

  He left the room as quietly as he’d entered. An utter sense of sadness followed.

  Jean simply sat on the edge of her bed, trying not to cry.

  They’d been so joyful together. Each night, they’d danced and planned future holiday parties with Anna, Ben, and other members of the staff. They’d learned to celebrate the convivial coexistence that had settled over the entire household.

  All that was gone. She was a trainee he meant to take into hand. He saw his role as being that of preparing Major James Long’s great granddaughter for immortality. But the real reason for the solemn changes had to do with this Merdwyn fellow. As she saw it, the man on the hill caused all this turmoil by just being present, and having few if any rules to follow.

  As to training, there was no doubt that Gart would be the most effective coach she could have ever been assigned.

  Was she putting her heart where common sense should be? Was she getting too close to the people here?

  After losing everyone she loved, she’d been unconsciously looking for a familial relationship. She’d found that replacement at Bloodnight Hall, and didn’t want things to change. She’d grown very fond of everyone.

  Surely, the organization would have known that pushing them all together, in this remote place, encouraged a sense of family. Wasn’t that what they’d wanted?

  She’d made a choice to join this organization and play by its rules. That meant taking on missions to keep others safe. If she could help Gart and everyone in his household—in any small way—then she must remain.

  She turned away; determined to align her mood and sense of purpose with the seriousness Gart just displayed.

  The life she now had was poignantly driven home.

  Time to own who she was, and to quit roaming about the landscape with her head up her rear.

  Chapter 6

  Gart firmly wrapped his fingers around the grip of his broadsword, making sure his palm met the leather. The length of his chosen weapon was more than the usual forty-five inches given his large size.

  The door opened at the far end of the gym. Mrs. Gast walked in before Jean. Both were similarly dressed as him, wearing leggings, athletic shoes and compression shirts. Jean was taller and not quite as heavy as her companion. With an attempt at nonchalance he didn’t remotely feel, he noted how the younger woman’s garments made every splendid curve stand out. There was something to be said for women’s modern workout clothing.

  The older woman walked to a rack where her weapon of choice, a crossbow, hung carefully. Its use was taught by him long before she ever became a claviger.

  When she’d shown an interest, he hadn’t hesitated in giving Mrs. Gast instruction. Now, she was very good with that form of either defense or offense. Crossbows were good to use when one faced any human criminal who needed to be silently dispatched.

  Both women chatted amicably. He tried not to pay attention to their friendly banter, choosing to remain aloof while surreptitiously gauging Jean’s response to the gym and its accoutrement.

  Mrs. Gast picked up her weapon. She lowered the front end of it to the ground, put her foot into the foothold and loaded th
e bolt. She then raised the crossbow.

  Without much time spent aiming, she fired at a target set up on the other side of the gym. Jean responded with a congratulatory hoot.

  Mrs. Gast, as usual, hit the target so close to dead center that a mere quarter of an inch, one way or the other, made no difference. He’d trained both her and Ben with that weapon because they’d become enamored with its accuracy as well as its silence. While it was quite true that it couldn’t take out any rogue who might appear in their part of the country, it could certainly stop any human criminal who hunted immortals out of sheer hatred of the lifestyle.

  Now—whether by coincidence or by home office’s consideration over her already having been instructed on the device—Anna Gast was his new claviger. She and Ben could easily defend themselves or other humans on the premises.

  There were parts of the world where crossbows were illegal, but any such laws in the UK were waived if his claviger, or her husband, was protecting a government-sanctioned immortal.

  There were other perks to being a claviger. Mrs. Gast would have a great deal more information to process, most of which would be highly classified.

  He only hoped and prayed that the woman, and her husband, would never have to learn the downside. Clavigers could and had been killed. They were hunted by rogues, just to get even with law-abiding immortals.

  As for Jean, a crossbow might later become part of her personal arsenal. As an immortal working in a law enforcement capacity for the government, she could carry anything she wanted. However, since most of the individuals she’d be sent to apprehend would be rogues, she’d first be trained with something that could stop their onslaught. A swift beheading was the usual course of action.

  For that task, a broadsword fit the bill. Once he knew what Jean’s strengths and weaknesses were, he’d have a sword crafted particularly to accommodate them.

  Today, and until she was proficient, she’d train with what was available. He had many blades with which he constantly trained so as not to lose the ability to be proficient, at a moment’s notice. There were swords hanging near or above many of the fireplaces upstairs if the need arose. He preferred the weapon now in his right hand—a trusty English broadsword.