by T J Mayhew
Cai’s gaze slid to Nimue; that was the problem. He did worry but she had looked after him the last time and brought him through it; perhaps he should try to trust her more. Thankfully, Guinevere chose that moment to approach; he turned to greet her but his heart sank as he saw the sadness in her eyes and wished, not for the first time, that he didn’t have to leave her again.
“I cannot believe we have to part again so soon,” she lamented, echoing Cai’s thoughts.
“I know,” Cai agreed. “But we’ll be back as soon as we can,” he promised.
Guinevere smiled. “I know.” She hugged him. “It seems all we do is say goodbye.”
Cai dropped his gaze; he wished it was different but what could he do? “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be; it has always been thus,” she said, accepting of their situation.
The weight of words unspoken hung between them but, before either of them could say what was on their minds, Kay approached.
“We must go,” he announced glancing apologetically at Guinevere, bowing his head.
Guinevere nodded reluctantly before hugging Cai one final time. “Be safe,” she whispered.
Cai nodded as he stepped out of her embrace. “I will,” he promised.
As he started to walk away, he heard Nimue say, “Rest assured, my King, Camelot is safe in our hands.”
Cai glanced back, nodding mutely; her words, although reassuring, held an edge that made him uneasy. But he said nothing as he fell into step beside Kay as they made their way to their horses. “I don’t trust her,” he confided, before he could stop himself.
“Who?” Kay asked.
Cai glanced over his shoulder. “Nimue.”
Kay smirked. “Why? Because she doesn’t kneel at your feet every time she sees you?”
Cai bristled at the implication. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… she’s strange; there’s something about her… I don’t know what it is...”
Kay was silent for a moment before speaking. “What you have to realise is that people like Nimue, and even Merlin, live lives apart from us.”
Cai frowned. “What do you mean?” He had never considered Merlin as ‘living apart’ from him or anyone else at Camelot, for that matter.
“They deal with many things the likes of which you and I cannot possibly understand.” Kay paused and glanced at Cai. “It has to affect them in some way; just look at Morgan le Fay.”
Cai fell silent, recalling something Merlin had once said about the darkness in Morgan’s soul. Maybe Kay was right; maybe it was just that he didn’t understand her. Maybe he needed to trust the judgement of those around him, of those who had known her far longer; if they were all so certain Nimue could be trusted, maybe he should stop worrying. After all, he had enough of his own to worry about, right now.
“Cai!”
He turned, surprised to see Aelwen pushing her way through the crowd, her face set with determination; taking in her appearance, he realised she was armed and dressed for travel. Glancing at Kay, he bristled at the bemused expression on his face. “Aelwen…” he began but was cut off by Aelwen’s curt voice.
“I’m coming with you,” she announced.
Beside him, Kay let out a harsh laugh. “You? Coming with us?”
Aelwen glared up at him, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin in defiance. “And what’s so amusing?” she shot back.
Kay looked her up and down. “Apart from the obvious you mean?” he taunted. “This journey is no place for the likes of you.”
Aelwen clenched her jaw and Cai was suddenly anxious she would say something that would land her in hot water.
Kay, however, turned to Cai, effectively dismissing Aelwen. “We don’t have time for this, Cai…”
Cai nodded, acutely aware of that fact. “I know,” he acknowledged. “Just… give us a minute.”
Kay sighed and threw his hands up in frustration. “Just get rid of her,” he warned.
As he left, Cai turned to Aelwen. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I’m coming with you,” she repeated, pushing past Cai.
Cai grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. “No, you’re not,” he stated adamantly.
Aelwen glared at him. “Yes, I am,” she insisted. “You can’t expect me to stay here doing nothing when…” She paused for a moment, collecting herself. “I can fight if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It isn’t,” Cai muttered. Somehow, he knew she would hold her own in battle, if only through sheer determination and stubbornness, but that wasn’t why he didn’t want her to go; the truth was he wanted to make sure she was safe and, while that was nigh on impossible, given their circumstances, he figured she would be far safer at Camelot than on the road with them. At least here, she had Merlin and her father to protect her.
“Then what is it?” she demanded.
“You need to stay with your father; he needs you.”
“And I need to do something!” she exploded angrily.
“You will be doing something,” he insisted. “You’ll be protecting Camelot and Gawain will teach you how…”
Aelwen scoffed. “No, he won’t! They see me only as a girl, someone who needs protecting…” Her eyes burned as she looked at Cai. “But I don’t need protecting; I can look after myself.”
Cai sighed inwardly; he didn’t need this right now. “I know,” he said wearily, hoping his agreement would cool her temper.
“No, you don’t; you’re as bad as the rest of them!” She gestured wildly at the men gathered in the courtyard. Stepping closer to Cai, she dropped her voice as she said, “But you’ll see; you’ll all see how wrong you are!”
And with that, she turned and marched away, pushing aside anyone too slow to move out of her path. Cai could only watch as she disappeared into the crowd, too stunned to react.
“Wow, what the hell did you say?” Logan asked, appearing at Cai’s side.
Cai shrugged. “I honestly don’t know,” he admitted. “All I said was she should stay here…”
“Well, there’s your first mistake; telling a girl what she should do. That never ends well.”
Cai glanced at Logan, smirking. “Like you’re the expert!”
Logan grinned and gestured towards Lancelot. “Lancelot sent me; he’s ready.”
Cai nodded, aware he wouldn’t be able to sort things out with Aelwen until he returned. He cursed himself for not stopping her; he hated leaving, knowing they weren’t on the best of terms. But it was too late to do anything about that now; Aelwen had gone and, even if he had stopped her, he doubted she would have listened to anything he had to say.
Pushing thoughts of her from his mind, he quickly mounted his horse and, following Lancelot, cast one final glance over his shoulder at those he was leaving behind.
21
Cai soon discovered that travelling with Lancelot was vastly different from travelling with Merlin. After leaving Camelot, Lancelot had informed them all he intended to ride as far and as fast as possible each day. To begin with, Cai had agreed with him wholeheartedly; for one thing, it had stopped him from spending too much time replaying his parting words with Aelwen and, more than that, they needed to reach Percival as quickly as they could. However, despite his initial convictions, it soon became clear to him that the reality of that decision was vastly different from the theory.
By the end of the first day, Cai was so exhausted he had practically fallen from his horse; he had wanted nothing more than to go straight to bed and rest his aching muscles but he had had to sit with the knights for what seemed like hours, while they discussed their route and listened as Kay bombarded Galahad with questions about Percival. For his part, Galahad had remained silent, stubbornly insisting it was Percival’s story to tell and it hadn’t mattered how much Kay threatened or cajoled him, he had still refused to talk.
From the few details Cai had been able to concentrate on, he knew they were heading north and, if they maintained their current progr
ess, should reach their destination in roughly three days. Cai’s heart had sunk at the news but he wasn’t about to suggest they slow down when so much rested upon their success.
By the time they made camp on the third day, Galahad announced, much to everyone’s relief, that they would make it to Percival the following morning. As usual, Lancelot had men posted around the camp’s perimeter. So far, each night had passed uneventfully and, as Cai sat by the fire, he allowed himself to relax and felt the tension slowly drain from his aching muscles.
Just as he closed his eyes, he heard someone approach and, looking up, wasn’t surprised to see Logan standing over him, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his side.
“You ready?” Logan asked expectantly.
Cai’s heart sank. “Yeah, I guess…” he sighed, hauling himself to his feet.
Logan grinned, clapping him on the back. “Plenty of time to rest when we’re dead, eh?” he quipped.
Cai glanced at him but said nothing. The truth was, he wasn’t sure if he was up to another practise… he was tired and he knew Logan felt the same. “Don’t you wish we could just rest tonight?” he asked quietly.
Logan laughed. “All the time… but I know what Kay would do to us, if we did.”
Cai smirked, chancing a glance at the knight in question; he was talking to Lancelot but still managed to catch the boys’ eyes as they passed, nodding at them in acknowledgment.
Cai was soon so focused on Logan and their fight that, at first, he didn’t notice Kay leaning against a tree and it wasn’t until he moved away from Logan, in an attempt to gain much needed space, that he finally became aware of the knight’s presence.
Aware of Cai’s momentary distraction, Logan followed his gaze, dropping his sword as his eyes landed on Kay.
Cai wasn’t really surprised by this; whereas normally Logan would have taken advantage of his lack of concentration, he also knew his friend was flagging and, like him, looking for any excuse to stop for a moment. Despite Logan’s bravado, it had been the same every night; fighting after such long days in the saddle was hard for both of them.
Stepping forward, Kay looked at them expectantly. “What are you stopping for?” he demanded. “Not tiring are you?”
Hearing the sarcasm in Kay’s voice, Cai tightened his grip on Excalibur as he stared silently back at his mentor. He knew the knight’s words were meant to goad him and, normally, Cai would have ignored him but, in his current, weakened, state, he was determined to prove him wrong.
Kay smirked at him. “Well?” he challenged. “What can you show me?”
Cai said nothing but turned to face Logan once more as he took up his position. Rolling his neck and shoulders, he attempted to loosen his aching, tired muscles praying he could end this quickly.
Logan closed the distance between them, swinging his sword at the point between Cai’s neck and collarbone.
It was a clumsy move and Cai blocked it easily with his shield, quickly retaliating with a blow of his own which also did nothing more than bounce uselessly off Logan’s shield.
The boys circled each other, sizing each other up, searching for an opening. Cai immediately noticed that Logan’s determination did nothing to hide his exhaustion; he moved slowly as if through mud and his attacks were increasingly rash and clumsy. Assessing the situation, he knew he could win this: he knew Logan, knew his weak points and he could use that knowledge to his advantage… He just had to think.
Forcing himself to remain clam, to approach this logically, Cai considered what he already knew: Logan was good with a sword, that was not in doubt, and he would always be dangerous with one in his hand but his left side was weaker and he was not as accomplished with a shield; if he could just…
Before he had even finished the thought, he leapt forward, bringing his sword down towards Logan’s shield; just as he had anticipated, Logan’s attention became focused on trying to manipulate his already sluggish left arm and, in doing so, forgot about his right, leaving his sword hanging idly at his side.
It was only a small slip-up but it was a slip-up, nonetheless.
Seizing his chance, Cai changed direction, aiming Excalibur at Logan’s arm; at the last moment, he slowed the pace of his sword, avoiding any risk of injuring his friend.
Logan glanced at Cai, clearly frustrated by his lapse of concentration and the consequence of it. “Lucky win,” he growled resentfully.
If he hadn’t known any better, Cai might have thought Logan was angry at him but he knew his friend well enough to know that his anger was aimed at himself. Cai grinned as he sheathed Excalibur. “Call it what you want, it was still a win.” Right now, he’d take any success, however lucky it may have been.
Logan scowled as he sheathed his sword.
Kay approached, shaking his head. “I hate to break it to both of you but that wasn’t the best performance… from either of you,” he added pointedly, looking at both boys in turn.
And, just like that, Cai’s sense of achievement vanished; couldn’t Kay just acknowledge a job well done? What else did he want from them: blood?
Kay walked in a circle around them, firing off reasons as to why their efforts were under par. “You were both clumsy, sluggish… and don’t even get me started on your posture and footwork…” He stopped walking and faced them. “Have you remembered nothing of your training?” he demanded.
Cai’s head snapped up, unable to take Kay’s tirade any longer. “We were tired!” he cried.
Kay and Logan looked at him, the latter with a mix of shock and admiration in his eyes.
Cai swallowed nervously; he knew he had overstepped the mark. The only question now was: how would Kay react?
“You were tired?” Kay echoed disdainfully. He stepped in front of Cai, looming over him. “And is that the excuse you’ll give Mordred when you’re facing hundreds of his men to reach him? ‘I’m tired’.”
Cai’s mouth was suddenly dry as he picked out the word. “Hundreds?” he cried in disbelief.
Kay nodded. “Hundreds,” he repeated, seemingly enjoying Cai’s discomfort.
Logan, thankfully, chose that moment to intervene, appearing at Cai’s side in an instant. “It’ll be different in battle,” he assured him, all trace of his earlier anger gone.
Kay glanced at him. “Will it?” he asked simply, giving no indication as to whether Logan’s assumptions were right.
Logan nodded with a confidence Cai didn’t feel. “It has to be; I mean, in battle we’ll be fighting for our lives.” He glanced between Cai and Kay. “I mean I, for one, don’t intend to die anytime soon so…”
Kay rubbed his forehead. “You’re right; training’s one thing. We can train you to handle a sword and shield but…” He sighed. “You’ll only really know how to fight when you’re facing a man who wants to take your life, before you take his.” He let his words sink in for a moment before adding, “Then it’s less about right and wrong and more about who has a stronger will to live.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Logan said, “Well, that’s encouraging.”
Kay stepped away from the boys. “Every day brings Mordred closer,” he warned. He was about to say more but was distracted by a commotion on the western side of the camp. The three of them moved to get a better look and saw two men, who had earlier been assigned to guard duty, come hurtling through the trees, stumbling as their feet failed to find level ground. The man in front, who Cai immediately recognised as Haydn, ran towards Lancelot, his eyes wide with fear, his breathing heavy.
“What is it, Haydn?” Lancelot demanded, grabbing the man’s arm to still his frantic movements.
“Demons!” Haydn panted, pointing back towards the trees. “We’re surrounded by... demons!”
Kay moved nearer, Cai and Logan following close behind.
Cai glanced uneasily at the knight. “Did he say...?” he began.
Kay waved his hand at Cai, indicating him to be quiet.
“Demons, you say?” La
ncelot asked in disbelief.
Haydn nodded fearfully. “As black as the night... their eyes burned...” His voice trailed away amidst sobs as he sank to the floor.
As he moved closer, Cai realised that Haydn was covered in blood gushing from a wound to his shoulder. The other man had not fared much better and was bleeding from a nasty cut on his cheek, clutching a wound on his side, his face pale and drawn. Cai noticed they were both shaking violently.
Suddenly, Haydn started screaming hysterically as he pointed to the edge of camp.
Every man, without exception, looked up as men, clad in black chainmail, stepped out from the cover of the trees.
Cai froze, recalling their previous encounter.
Without hesitation, Kay and Logan drew their weapons, Cai following suit a moment later; throughout the camp, the hiss of swords being drawn signalled every man was battle-ready.
With Excalibur in hand, Cai was suddenly aware of how alive he felt; every muscle and nerve was poised, his aches and pains suddenly gone. Scanning the perimeter of the camp, looking for any indication that the men were about to attack, he realised what he had already suspected.
They were surrounded.
22
Kay glanced at Cai. “Whatever you do, stay close to me,” he murmured, scanning the perimeter of camp, no doubt assessing their chances.
“Are they…?” Logan whispered, glancing at Cai.
“Mordred’s men,” Kay replied curtly.
They were a formidable sight, standing as still as statues, none of them moving; Cai found it unnerving, so different from what he had experienced at the lake. Suddenly one of them let out a bloodcurdling scream as he was hit in the eye by an arrow and fell to the floor, dead. Not one of his comrades moved to help him; worse than that, none of them even reacted.
Cai stared. How had that happened? Where had the arrow come from?
Before he knew it, Lancelot was crying out, leading the charge. Mordred’s men mirrored them; the sight of so many men charging towards each other, brandishing their weapons, brought back unwanted memories for Cai but he managed to push these aside.
