Believe (26 page)

“In truth, I am not certain.” He sat up and shook his head. “’Twas as though I was here yet not here. As if I floated somewhere above you watching and waiting. A dream, I think, or a vision.”

She stared at him. “Are you okay?”

He smiled and got to his feet. “I am quite refreshed.”

“That’s one of us.” She reached up to grab his hand and he pulled her to her feet. “We’ve got to get out of here. Mordred—”

“I must return to Camelot, at once.” Determination hardened Galahad’s expression. “I must warn the king—”

“The king will have his warning,” Merlin said firmly.

“Then I shall go after Mordred.” Galahad’s eyes narrowed. “’Tis my duty to my king.”

“No, Galahad. Your duty now lies only in your quest. As does your fate. Mordred will not bother you again. You will have safe passage under my protection for the remainder of your journey.” Merlin shrugged. “It’s the least I could do. I never expected it to go this far, you know. But these things happen.”

Tessa stepped closer to Galahad and he put his arm around her. “So what now, Mr. Wizard?”

“I do hate that expression…” Merlin considered them for a long, silent moment then smiled, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “I cannot believe you didn’t realize it, Tessa, or you either, Galahad, but you’ve met all the challenges in the riddle.” Merlin’s image faded slightly. “Simply put the pieces together”—now only his eyes remained, like stars in the night—“and the truth shall be revealed,” and then even the stars were gone and his voice alone lingered, “and that which all men seek shall be his.”

“What does he mean?” Galahad’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Who knows?” Tessa brushed her hair away from her face. “But if he said we’ve done it, we’ve done it.”

“It should not be difficult to determine.” Galahad paused. “The illusion was the dragon.”

“That one was easy. What’s an infidel?”

“An infidel.” Galahad shrugged. “A heathen, a heretic, a disbeliever.”

She drew in a quick breath. “Then that would be me. I didn’t believe in you or magic or…” Her gaze met his. “Love.”

“And now you believe in love?” he asked softly.

“And everything else.”

“’Tis the infidel coming to the fold.”

“And the offering that can be no greater?” She smiled wryly. “It seems like we should get extra points for this one. Let’s see. You were willing to give up the quest for me. I was willing to give up my freedom—”

“And more, Tessa.” His voice was quiet. “Your very life.”

“It was worth it.”

“Was it, Tessa?” His gaze met hers. His eyes were troubled. “You offered your life and were spared. But you lost a wondrous gift to save me. Do you not regret that?”

“You can’t regret losing something you never knew you had.” Amazing. He really didn’t realize how much she loved him. “Especially when you save what you value most.”

“Tessa.” He brushed his lips across hers. “You are my soul. ’Tis a truth revealed.”

“We get bonus points for truths revealed too I think.” She nibbled at his lips. “There was the whole time-travel bit.”

“Indeed.” His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. His lips whispered against the side of her neck. “’Twas the truth of what you possess that I needed.”

“Oh?” She closed her eyes and her head dropped back. His mouth traveled to the hollow of her neck and she gasped. “And what was that?”

“’Twas simple. I act from strength.” His tongue trailed lower to the cleavage between her breasts.

She sighed. “Yes?”

“And you act from knowledge. Together, we are whole.” He cupped her breasts through the fabric of her gown and teased her nipples with his thumbs. “’Tis why you keep that book close at hand.”

“Uh-huh.” Why was he doing this to her? Why wasn’t she stopping him? Why did she want to drop to the ground right here and make mad, passionate love to him? And why wasn’t she doing exactly that?

“’Tis why you keep that book close at hand.”

She snapped her head up. “What did you say?”

“I?” he murmured, turning his attention back to the overly sensitive skin exposed by the low-cut dress. “I cannot recall.”

“No, wait.” Desire evaporated and she pushed him away.

A bemused smile quirked his lips. “Wait?”

“The book! Did I tell you about the book?” She turned and glanced around the clearing. “Why it’s so important to me?”

“Nay.” He shrugged. “I assumed ’twas a keepsake.”

“More than that.” She spotted their bags and dropped to her knees, pawing through the contents of the first one she grabbed. “It’s Merlin’s book. It’s how I got here in the first place.”

“I do not understand.”

“It’s the title of the damned thing.” She grabbed the second bag and dumped its contents on the ground. “Here it is. Look.” She held the book up to him.

He knelt beside her. “I still do not—”

“It’s not an ordinary book.” Excitement rang in her
voice. “Things change in this. Pictures, text, everything. When I first got this, the title said
My Life and Times, The Story of Merlin
and then some PR stuff. But the next time I looked at it, and now, it says
My Life and Times, the True Story of Merlin
. Don’t you get it?”

Understanding washed across his face. “Do you mean to say this will tell us where to find the Grail? And we carried it with us from the beginning? Surely, ’tis too simple an answer?”

“I don’t know. We’ll see.” She angled the book to catch the light from the moon. It fell open of its own accord and despite the pale illumination, the words were easy to read.

And the Grail shall rest where the journey begins. Deep beneath the castle of the king, concealed by mists and magic, revealed only to those who truly believe and have met and bested the challenges laid before them. There shall they find that which all men seek
.

His gaze met hers and they stared for a long moment. “Let us return home, Tessa.”

“Home.” The word lingered on the air between them.

“Aye.” He took her hand in his. “To finish what there began.”

W
hy was he not eager to return? To fulfill his destiny and find the Grail for his king and his country? Why did he not urge his horse onward? Why did he not strain forward with anticipation? Why instead did a weight lie heavy in his gut and an ache grip his soul?

Tessa.

She rode quietly beside him. Often enough through their days together he had wished for peace from her aimless chatter, yet today ’twould ease his heart to hear her voice. He had no need to ask what troubled her. ’Twas the same for him. When they had ridden away from Mordred’s castle last night his spirit had rejoiced at the prospect of ending their quest and at long last finding the Grail. ’Twas not until they’d stopped to rest and he took her in his arms that he’d realized exactly what that would mean. Until that moment, he’d not considered the steep price of success.

“So, how long will it take us to get back?” Tessa stared straight ahead.

“Another day, perhaps two.”

“Not much time, is it?”

“Nay,” he said softly. “’Tis no time at all.” An awkward silence fell between them. ’Twas so much he wished to say to her. Yet, the words would not come.

“What happens when we get there and find…it?” She glanced at him with a look in her eye that said she must ask but did not wish to hear the answer. “Do you really become the guardian?”

He shrugged. “’Tis what I have heard.”

“And this is a permanent position? Forever, right?”

“I…aye.” He paused. Long moments went by. “And what of you?”

“Me?” She glanced at him in surprise.

“What becomes of you, Tessa, when this is at an end?”

She blew a long breath as if she expected his question yet still was unprepared for it. “I guess I go home.”

“Home?”

“Back to my own time.” She met his gaze. “Merlin promised to send me home if I helped you find the Grail.”

“I see.” He studied her carefully. “I know well you miss your home. Are you eager then to return?”

Pain flashed through her eyes and she pulled her gaze from his. She lifted her chin and he wondered why his heart did not crack at the obstinate gesture that was such a part of her nature. Her voice was low and controlled. “It’s where I belong.”

Of course, ’tis where she belonged. This was not her world and he could not expect her to remain. Hers was a world of wonders where men could reach to the moon and beyond. ’Twas still difficult for him to believe her stories were real. Yet, did she not have to accept the
same about his world? ’Twas hard for her but she’d survived and triumphed.

How could he survive without her?

Odd. Did he now regret their quick success? ’Twas what he’d always dreamed of. But a quest such as theirs could well last months and years. He could have heard her laughter and held her close to him for much of a lifetime. Yet still, at some point, she would have had to return. Perhaps it was better for them both now rather than later. Before they’d shared too many joys and too many memories.

If he were free
…

He tightened his grip on the reins. ’Twas a vow as sacred as any spoken aloud. The finder of the Grail is sworn to protect it till time itself crumbles to dust. Nay, he was not free and ’twas better that she return to her home where he would not have to fear for her safety. Or wonder at the strangeness of her words. Or feel the rise and fall of her breathing as she lay against him late in the night.

And he would be no more than a story to be read aloud to children in the last moments before they succumbed to sleep.

“Galahad.” She stared at the road before them. “Talk to me.”

“What? Has my lady depleted all topics of discussion?” In spite of his teasing manner his words fell flat.

“I want to know all about you.” Her voice was even. “I want to know about your childhood and your friends and your father. I want to know about Arthur and Guinevere. I want to know about your wife.”

“I do not know where to begin.”

The corners of her lips curved upward. “Begin at the beginning.”

He smiled. “My mother was the daughter of…”

He told her of his family and his boyhood and his adventures and eventually, his feelings and hopes and dreams. Now and again she would ask a question but for the most part, she remained silent as if she was trying to remember every detail of every tale, every word of every recollection.

And every word brought them closer to farewell.

“…’Twas not a difficult contest for the…”

Every fall of the horses hooves carried them one step closer to good-bye. Tessa concentrated on his words, needing to memorize every story, every anecdote, every adventure. She focused on his voice, the tone, the nuances, the interesting rustic lilt of his accent. And she tried to burn forever into her memory the way he smiled or how he’d raise a dark brow for emphasis or the sound of his laugh drifting on the breeze. For long moments she’d succeed until the dull ache of knowing what was ahead would return with a vengeance.

How could she live without him?

She didn’t have much of a choice. No more choice than she’d had when Merlin had tossed her through time and interrupted the Big Guy’s prayers. Or when she’d been told she’d go on his quest or be dinosaur food. Or when she fell in love with a legend.

Oh, there had been a few choices along the way. None of them especially great. Mordred’s of course. And Viviane’s. The woman’s offer to join forces made a lot more sense with the revelation of Tessa’s own magical abilities. Of course, that was a moot point
now anyway. She’d used up whatever power she’d had to bring Galahad back to life. And well worth it. But Merlin’s wife had proposed sending them both to the modern world. What if she’d accepted Viviane’s deal? Would they right now be sharing a pizza and watching TV? No. He’d never forgive himself if he abandoned his quest. She couldn’t do that to him. He’d given his word. Besides, Galahad would no more fit in her world than she did in his.

“…But my father did not think such a thing…”

Still, hadn’t she managed to make it here? And maybe, just maybe, if he wasn’t bound by his responsibilities and his promises, it might work. Surely, he’d be able to adapt.

She sighed to herself. Thinking like this would get her nowhere. None of it mattered. This was his destiny. Destiny. Hah. More like a sentence. She couldn’t get the image of the ancient crusader from the third Indiana Jones movie out of her head and she couldn’t bear the thought of Galahad living for eternity in some cave beneath the castle.

She tried to ignore the ache in her heart. It was a stupid waste of time to cry again. She’d already wept enough tears during this so-called adventure to last a lifetime. They had so little time left and she didn’t want to spend it sobbing and red-eyed and puffy. She wanted to spend it in his arms, making love to him over and over until neither of them cared about duty or honor, the past or the future.

“…And in truth, he was never, by the standards that men set for such things, especially…”

In a few days she’d be home. And he’d remain in the world in which he belonged. The world that sent men
such as he on impossible quests where success meant forfeiting your own desires and even your life for a nobler purpose. She’d leave far behind the pungent smells of man and beast that pervaded everything and the awkward clothes and the strange food and all the discomforts of the Middle Ages. She’d leave the magic and the man who taught her to believe in it all. And heaven help her, she’d miss it. All of it. Oh, she’d go on and live her life but she’d die a little every time she had to teach a class on the Arthurian legends. Or caught a glimpse of a tall, well-built, dark-haired man striding across campus. Or gazed up at the stars.

Or told a story to a child at bedtime.

“We shall break our journey here this night.” Galahad slid from his saddle to the ground. The forest had opened up into a clearing where a bubbling stream flowed into a small pool. The sun was low in the sky and filtered in through the leaves of the trees casting patterns of flashing light and muted green.

Tessa caught her breath. “It’s beautiful.”

“Indeed it is.” A note of pride sounded in his voice. “I have come to this place since my boyhood.”

“Oh, I see.” She swallowed hard. “We’re close then, aren’t we?”

“Aye.” He reached up to help her dismount and she slipped into his arms. He set her on the ground but kept her in his embrace. “’Tis but a short ride to the end of the wood. Beyond lies the meadow and the tree where your courage was tested—”

She smiled up at him. “And yours.”

“Aye.” He laughed. “And mine. Was there a more dangerous moment in our journey than that?”

“Nope.” She grinned and stepped out of his embrace, wandering over to the point where the stream splashed into the pool. A large rock hung over the edge of the water and she sat down in a hollow that formed a perfect chair. Her smile faded. “So, we’ll be there tomorrow, right?”

He nodded reluctantly.

She couldn’t bear to look at him. Tessa leaned over and trailed her fingers in the water. “Are you ready?”

“Tessa.” He knelt on the mossy ground beside the rock. “I would change it all if I could.”

“Would you?” Tiny waves rippled out from her fingers. “How?”

“I do not know.” Anguish sounded in his voice.

“It’s my fault anyway although I suppose Merlin gets some of the blame. Make that all of the blame.” She struggled to keep her voice steady. “If I hadn’t come into your life—”

“If you hadn’t come into my life, I would be dead and not of Mordred’s blade alone.” He raised her chin to meet his gaze. “I would not have the life renewed that you have brought me. Nor would I know my heart could feel such things again. I would not know that a woman’s courage can be as great as a man’s. And I would not know that love can strike more than once in a lifetime.”

“Then…I guess it all works out.”

“Perhaps.” He smiled and she gazed into his eyes, dark and blue as the sky before a storm. She could lose herself in his eyes. She’d already lost her heart. Sorrow, intense and primitive, washed through her and she jumped to her feet. She needed a little distance between them or she’d lose it.

“Funny.” She hugged herself tightly and walked along the edge of the pool. “I don’t seem to know what to say.”

“Ah, the Lady Tessa, at a loss for words?” His manner was teasing and she knew he was trying to make her feel better. Instead, his consideration intensified the ache threatening to overwhelm her.

“Go figure.” She gazed into the water. Her reflection stared back. Galahad appeared behind her. They looked like an illustration from a fairy tale. The one where the prince and princess were forced to go their separate ways and no one lived happily ever after. She leaned back against him and watched their image on the water.

“I will miss you, Tessa St. James,” he said softly and kissed the top of her head.

She nodded, her voice was barely a whisper. “Me too.”

“I wish…” He shook his head as if it was futile to speak of wishes and desires and dreams.

“Me too.”

They stared into the water for a long time. There was so much she wanted to say but just being here in his arms was enough. It would have to be. The sun dropped behind the trees and the moon rose to cast its spell upon them.

“If all could be different…” He drew a deep breath. “I would want you forever by my side. As my wife.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “As your partner.”

He laughed quietly. “Aye. And my equal.” He sobered and turned her to face him. “Tessa, I would give you a token to bind your heart to mine.”

“It already is.”

He pulled the ruby ring from his little finger and took her hand, slipping the gold circle over her thumb. He closed her hand in his. “Now, I will be with you always.”

“Always.”

“And in my heart, I will hold you dear as my,” he smiled, “partner.”

She choked back a sob. “Your wife.”

“My love.” Galahad bent to touch his lips to hers. She melted against him and they sank to the grass to touch and taste of each other with a bittersweet passion and a desperate need to remember. And together they reached one last time for the magic she’d never dared hoped for and found in the embrace of a man she’d never dreamed existed. Until finally, they lay savoring their last moments in each other’s arms with a joy and a sorrow that would mark their souls through time itself.

For once Tessa had nothing to say. And nothing that needed to be said. Together they gazed toward the heavens and watched the stars move across the velvet night and waited.

For the new day.

And the end of the quest.

And good-bye.

Their horses walked out of the forest with a slow, measured step, swirling the ground fog with their hooves, mirroring the reluctance of their riders. It was barely dawn and for once he hadn’t had to jerk her out of a sound sleep. She hadn’t slept at all. Neither had he.

They approached the skinny, young oak tree that had marked his games as a boy and her test of cour
age and he reached his hand out to her. She took it and held his hand and slowly they approached the castle. There was no one in sight. Not even a breeze stirred the early morning mists. Tessa wondered if maybe Merlin had pulled his freeze-frame trick to protect them. She wouldn’t have been surprised. One of the perks for solving the riddle, probably.

They drew closer to the castle and Galahad pulled up short. “Tessa.” He nodded. “There.”

She followed his gaze. A rock formation loomed midway between the castle wall and the oak. The mouth of a cave big enough for a man to stand upright yawned in the morning light. This was it then.

An odd note of excitement rang in his voice. “I have not seen that before.”

“I don’t think it was there.”

He slid off his horse and started toward the cave like a man in a dream.

Panic gripped her. “Wait, hold it right there!”

He stopped and turned. She practically fell off her horse and ran to him, frantically trying to think of something—anything—to stall him. “You can’t go without saying good-bye.”

He had the calm demeanor and serene look of a man who has made his decision and is prepared to live with it but a touch of sorrow shaded his eyes. He smiled and lifted her chin. “I will love you always, my Lady Tessa.”