The Last Knight (Pendragon Book 1)

by Nicola S. Dorrington

  “Oh yes, much better. Now come. Supper is being served down in the great hall. The king likes to dine with his knights and the court as often as he can. And there are many rumours about Lord Merlin’s young guest.”

  I followed her through the corridors and down to a wide hall feeling more than a little apprehensive. A number of tables were set out on the main floor, and on a slightly raised dais was a long table with a throne-like chair in the centre. No one was sat, most stood in small groups talking and being served drinks by the milling servants.

  Heads turned towards us as we entered and I saw Merlin nod approvingly from the end of the hall. I guess he wanted me to fit in as much as possible, and with the dress and hair I looked like any other woman in the court. In fact it was a little scary how easily I did fit in.

  Elaine took my arm and led me through the crowd to the edge of one table and we took goblets of wine from a serving girl. I only just held in the childish giggle at being given wine. We’d only been stood there for a few minutes when Elaine’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing.

  “Oh,” She said breathlessly, touching her hair.

  I frowned and tried to see what had her so flustered. Then I saw something that made me flustered enough. Lancelot was approaching us through the crowd.

  “Sir Lancelot,” Elaine bobbed into a low curtsy.

  He spared her a swift glance and a cursory bow then fixed his eyes on me.

  “I wished to come and pay my compliments to our mysterious stranger.” He bowed low and elegantly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I should properly introduce myself, even though you seem to know me. I am Sir Lancelot, and you…?”

  “Cara,” I said, a little too quickly.

  “Lady Cara.” He looked back up at me, smirking. “You grace the court with your presence.”

  I snorted, trying to hold back a laugh and he looked offended. Was this the middle ages equivalent of flirting? Beside me Elaine’s expression had turned stony.

  I really didn’t know how to reply, but help came in the form of Gwain who stepped up behind Lancelot.

  “Really, Lancelot. Are you occupying all the ladies again?”

  Lancelot didn’t look away from my face. “There is only one I wish to monopolise.”

  I was trapped by those blue eyes. They were so familiar to me, and yet there was a look of bold interest in them that I would have given anything to see from my Lance.

  “Well, it is very ungentlemanly of you,” Gwain said with a laugh, breaking me out of my trance.

  Lancelot frowned irritably, but courtly courtesy took over. “Lady Cara, allow me to introduce Sir Gwain.”

  I forced out a curtsy, nearly tripping over the dress, just as Arthur asked everyone to be seated. Elaine latched onto Lancelot’s arm and, with an apologetic look over his shoulder, he escorted her to sit. Gwain took my arm with a chuckle.

  “I’m afraid, Lady Cara, that you have a rival for Lancelot’s attentions. The Lady Elaine is rather determined I must say.”

  “He’s very…” I trailed off, not sure what to say.

  Gwain laughed again. “Oh yes, Sir Lancelot is very – everything.” He showed me to a seat and then took the one next to me.

  A little further along the table Elaine was trying to engage Lancelot in conversation, but he kept glancing my way, that same speculative look in his eyes. I would have killed to know what he was thinking.

  That night I slept in lavish guest quarters in a bed that nearly swallowed me whole. Far too soon after dawn a maid servant came in to help me get dressed, bringing with her another of Elaine’s dresses. This one was far less flattering, sewn of dull grey wool, and I grimaced as I pulled it on. I didn’t feel I’d made a friend there.

  I left the room as soon as I was dressed. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with myself, but Merlin hadn’t forbidden me from exploring, which I took to mean I was free to wander. A voice called out to me just as I reached the courtyard.

  “Lady Cara.”

  I turned. Lancelot came down the steps towards me. He wore chainmail with a leather breastplate and leather gloves were tucked into his belt, slapping against his thigh as he jumped the last few steps.

  “Sir Lancelot.” I kept my tone formal.

  “And where are you going this fine morning?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know really. I was thinking about going down to the town.”

  “Alone?” He shook his head. “Please, allow me to accompany you.”

  A small laugh escaped my lips. “I don’t want to create enemies here, Sir Lancelot, and I think I may upset Lady Elaine if I say yes.” I tried to force down the twinge of jealousy as I thought of the way Elaine looked at him.

  He looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. He stuttered and stammered before catching my eye. I grinned.

  “I do believe you’re teasing me, Lady Cara.”

  I mocked his formal tone. “Why, I do believe I am.”

  He shook his head, as it was unheard of. “You really are a most unusual woman.”

  Glancing towards the gate out of the castle, where I could see the bustle and noise of a market, I shrugged. “Probably the most unusual woman you’ll ever meet. Are you coming?”

  The sloping road down into the town was unpaved, made instead of hard packed dirt that puffed up at every step. Wooden buildings lined either side of the street, squat and cramped together. I felt a little like I was walking through a movie set, an elaborate and highly detailed movie set. I kept expecting to look through an open door and see nothing on the other side.

  We passed children playing a serious looking game with pebbles and sticks and women sweeping their front steps. A blacksmith’s forge opened out onto the street, the man himself pounding on a thin strip of steel against a heavy anvil. We paused to watch him work and he and Lancelot exchanged a few words, whilst I hung back, feeling the heat blasting out of the doors even from ten feet away.

  As we moved on I watched Lancelot more closely. He had a nod or a word for almost everyone we passed, and they all seemed to know him, bowing or curtsying as we passed.

  In the busy market we stopped at the stall of a wizened old lady where she sold little pastry parcels of sweet berries and nuts. Lancelot spoke to her quietly for a moment, asking about her son. When he brought us both some of the pastries the coins he pressed into her hand were worth far more than the little snack.

  I looked at him questioningly as I bit into the sweet.

  “Her son was a knight once,” he said, slowly chewing his own pastry. “Until a blow to his head rendered him senseless. He never recovered, not fully. She cares for him now; he can’t even feed himself.” His voice trailed off and he offered me a sad smile. “She won’t accept charity, but I do what I can.”

  I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat, but Lancelot looked away, a red flush creeping up his neck. He distracted me by tugging me over to where a small man was entertaining a growing crowd with sleight of hand. It was entertaining, but not enough to keep me from watching Lancelot out of the corner of my eye.

  The morning passed quickly as we moved through the town. I saw living conditions that to me were almost barbaric, but the people seemed happy, content with their lives. It was an eye opener for me, that these people with so little could be so happy.

  But nothing around me could distract me fully from Lancelot. This was his world, his place in life, and I could see for the first time how hard Lance had to try to fit in my time. It made my heart ache just a little, but for the first time I was almost thankful to Vivian, thankful for getting this chance to see him properly.

  Lancelot glanced at the sun and sighed. It was close to midday and we’d been walking for hours.

  “I’m afraid we must return to the castle, My Lady.”

  “Why?” I asked him, turning away from a well in a courtyard, where a group of girls around my age were drawing water, their gossip and laughter making me feel oddly lonely.

  “Becaus
e, as much as I enjoy your company, I have duties to which I must attend.”

  “Duties?” I took the arm he held out to me and let him lead me back to the castle.

  “Yes, my lady, we have some young men who wish to join us, and I must consider their merits this noon.”

  “Can I come and watch?”

  He frowned. “The sword ring is no place for a lady.”

  I smirked at him. “I’m not really much of a lady. Besides, I’d love to see you fight.” It wasn’t exactly true, but I couldn’t deny being curious.

  It took a moment for Lancelot to agree but finally he nodded, and from the look in his eyes what eventually swayed him was the opportunity to impress me.

  And impress me he did. The young men who had presented themselves to be considered as knights were a motley bunch, from all walks of life, and Lancelot was quick to determine those with any skill.

  His methods were simple. He called them one at a time into the sword ring with him and the following fights were swift and brutal. More than once I found myself having to close my eyes or look away. Lancelot took care not to injure anyone too badly, but a little blood and a few broken bones seemed inevitable.

  I was not the only spectator. Gwain appeared soon after they started and with a small smile took a seat on the bench beside me.

  The last of the men limped from the sword ring and Gwain looked at me and then at Lancelot. My cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. I knew I’d been practically drooling. He stood up abruptly and crossed to the ring.

  “It looks like you could do with a decent opponent, my friend.”

  Lancelot mopped the sweat from his face and looked up at him.

  “Are you offering?”

  Gwain ducked under the rope marking the sword ring and drew his sword.

  Lancelot glanced towards me and beamed, bringing his own sword up in a salute.

  The fight was almost a blur. The two men moved quickly, hacking and parrying. It was impossible to follow every swing of their blades. Considering the weight of the chainmail they wore, their agility was astounding as they all but danced across the ring. As the fight progressed a few other knights drifted over to watch, including Percival.

  Lancelot assumed he was going to win. I could see it in his posture and the look in his eyes. He was cocky, overconfident. He turned his head towards me, trying to make sure I was watching, and Gwain saw his chance. He drove his fist and the hilt of his sword up under Lancelot’s guard, smashing into his face.

  Blood spurted and Lancelot stumbled back, a torrent of swearwords pouring from him mouth. I jumped to my feet without thinking about it, ducking under the rope.

  Gwain didn’t look too worried by the damage he’d inflicted as Lancelot dropped to his knees, his hands to his nose.

  I reached his side and crouched down, cupping his face.

  “Let me look at it.”

  He lifted his head to look at me and I nearly laughed. His nose had been clearly broken and the hilt of the sword had cut his cheek, a cut that I knew would leave a long thin scar.

  “So, that’s how Wyn broke your nose.”

  “What?”

  I shook myself and tried to look serious. “Nothing.” I let a couple of other knights take over in trying to stop the bleeding.

  Standing back I turned the situation over in my mind. Had Lance known, when he’d told me about Wyn breaking his nose, I’d been there at the time? Did the Lance from my time remember me from his?

  I was distracted by Gwain coming over to me.

  “I’m sorry you had to see the blood, my lady. But just occasionally young Lancelot needs to be shown that he isn’t as perfect as the rumours make him out to be.” His face split into a smug grin. “And I really do enjoy being the one to show him.”

  I couldn’t help but smile up at him; the sparkle of mischief in his eyes reminded me so strongly of the Wyn I knew. He extended his elbow and I took it, letting him lead me towards the courtyard.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Gwain left me at the main doors and I entered alone. It was cool and quiet inside the castle after the noise of the sword ring and I wandered aimlessly along the corridors, content simply to explore, admiring the tapestries and paintings, and the hundreds of rooms. It was beautiful, but there were hints everywhere that this wasn’t a fairy-tale palace, but a fortress ready to be defended at any moment. Pairs of guards patrolled the corridors at regular intervals and I found more than one ‘cubbyhole’ stocked with weapons ready to be snatched up to protect the keep.

  I found the kitchens down in the bowels of the castle, but was chased out by a red-faced cook. I managed to snatch a nutty, brown bread roll from a rack by the oven before I was pushed out of the door and I munched on it as I headed back into the higher levels.

  Just passing a door, familiar voices reached me, and I doubled back, swallowing the last of the bread. The door was ajar and I could hear Arthur speaking.

  “So, you are not going to tell me who she is?”

  Merlin’s voice was amused when he replied. “No. I’m not. You have no need to know, Sire.”

  “She is a guest in my castle.” Arthur sounded indignant but didn’t seem angry.

  I moved a little so I could see through the crack. I couldn’t make out much of the room beyond, but I could see the back of Arthur as he paced up and down.

  “Sire, it is not necessary for you to know. The girl will be gone as soon as the peace treaty is signed.”

  Arthur sighed, running one hand through his hair. “There is something so familiar about her, Merlin. I feel I should know her somehow.”

  “You do not know her. But one day you shall. She has a place in your future. And because of that it’s vital that I get her home safely. That is all I will tell you. Now, I have duties to attend to.”

  I heard another door open and close and, very hesitantly, I eased open the door.

  The room beyond made me gasp. It was easily as big as the throne room, with high vaulted ceilings and tall columns. But most important was the huge, circular table occupying the centre of the room. It was big enough to sit forty people comfortably, made of dark wood, beautifully engraved with a range of scenes; from battles to a castle I was certain was Camelot.

  The Round Table. It was real.

  I forced my attention away from the table to see Arthur stood by one of the windows.

  “Lady Cara.” He turned at the sound of my footsteps, but remained by the window.

  “Your Majesty.” My voice trembled as I walked towards him. I joined him at the window. It overlooked the sword ring where many of the knights were still gathered.

  “So, my lady, what do you think of Camelot?”

  “Magnificent,” I murmured.

  A smile flashed across his lips. “I saw you watching Lancelot earlier.”

  I stayed quiet, not sure what to say to that.

  “He truly is my most loyal and trustworthy knight. A little young still, but I have high hopes for him.”

  “The perfect knight.” That was how the legends described him.

  “I believe you walked out with him to the town today?”

  I nodded, once again not trusting myself to speak.

  “I should like to tell you something about Sir Lancelot,” Arthur said quietly. “He is loyal, and passionate and faithful. When he believes in something he throws his whole heart and soul into it. Merlin tells me that you are not to remain long with us. I hope that when the time comes for you to leave, you do not take my knight’s heart with you.”

  He turned to look at me and the gentle smile on his lips softened the warning.

  It felt like when my dad asked me about boyfriends, only a million times worse. I could feel my cheeks getting hot so I gestured to the table behind us.

  “This is impressive.”

  “My round table? I suppose to those from distant lands it may well be. But is it not right that all men should be equal? My table has no head, which means that all who sit around it have equa
l say. I am but the first amongst equals.”

  I leant against the side of the window. “You are remarkable. You are building something here that will be spoken of with wonder over a thousand years from now, yet you don’t even realise.”

  “You say that with great certainty, Lady Cara.”

  I simply smiled up at him and he smiled back. He was only ten years older than me at most, but there was something in his eyes that made him seem far older. I could see why he inspired such great loyalty.

  Arthur and I parted ways outside the room and once again I found myself alone in Camelot.

  I was halfway along a corridor when I heard a familiar voice call my name. Turning reluctantly, I saw Elaine hurrying towards me, her skirts lifted in one hand so she could move easier. I suppressed a groan.

  “Lady Cara, I looked for you this morning to take our morning meal.”

  “Oh, right. I went out early.”

  Her smile was brittle. “Yes, so I understand. My maid, Linna, said she saw you leaving the castle with Sir Lancelot.”

  I forced myself to smile back. “He offered to accompany me into town. I didn’t ask him to.” I knew I was being defensive, and I had no reason to be, but Elaine made me nervous.

  “So, you are not seeking out his attentions?” The question was probing, her eyes narrowed.

  I felt a surge of irritation. “If I were, it would be no concern of yours.”

  Her eyes darkened, but I didn’t give her time to speak before I spun and rushed down the corridor.

  I didn’t go down for supper that night. My confrontation with Elaine had put me on edge, and despite telling her it was none of her business, I didn’t really want to make enemies. I was only going to be in Camelot for a few days, and the lower profile I kept the better.

  The next morning I woke early again, but this time it was not by choice. Someone was banging on my door. For a moment it felt like I was home, with Dad coming to tell me I was late for school.

  I struggled to surface from the copious blankets and comforters.

  “Lady Cara?” Lancelot’s voice called through the door.