Lancelot and the Wolf (18 page)

Arthur pushed himself upright and suddenly turned me. I should have resisted but he caught me by surprise. His hand trailed down my back and I felt it move over the scars. “Oh, Lancelot,” he sounded breathless. “What have I done to you?”

Enough, I couldn’t deal with this any longer. “Arthur, it’s over, please just leave it. It doesn’t matter.” I tried to turn back against his hand but he just moved with me to keep the scars in his sights.

“
I would give anything to take this back,” he whispered. His fingers strayed all over the thick lash marks. He lowered his hand, once more catching me by surprise and kissed one of the long echoes of my pain.

I jumped against the hand on my chest, where he held me under control. This was a bad idea on so many levels. For a start, Geraint and Kay sat next door.

I finally discovered my common sense and moved away from the bed. My damn cock thick and hard. How often had I dreamt of this over the years? Arthur remained with one knee on his bed, stood so close but his head turned away from me.

“
Please, Arthur, we can’t, not now, it’s too much,” I didn’t know what to say.

Arthur slid off the bed and just walked out. I sighed heavily. This was not going well. I finished stripping and lay on the bed, switching my brain off and falling deeply asleep in seconds. The dream hit me like a series of huge waves crashing against endless cliffs. The images were frantic, the doe and hart tight together, the wolf standing guard, something evil sweeping from the woods and covering them in darkness, until all I heard were screams but no images. Another, Camelot, fire dancing and laughing through familiar streets. I ran on four legs hunting and searching for something I’d lost. Again, standing on the top of a strangely shaped hill, looking down over long flatlands before me, mists creeping through them. A man standing beside me, he looked down at me, his black robes tattered and dusty, his staff blackened and burned. He seemed so tired. His hand sat on my head, as he said, “We are losing. You must help.” The sense of loss sweeping through the man, then into me made me whine.

I woke to darkness in a strange bed and felt sick. It took me a few minutes to realise I lay in Arthur’s bed in Camelot. “I can’t keep this up,” I muttered to myself, exhaustion made the world tilt.

“
I was about to wake you,” Arthur said from the darkened corner of his room.

“
Shit,” I sat up. “You startled me.” I squinted as he struck a light and a candle flared.

“
You were dreaming,” he said. I looked at him once I focused. His eyes were sunken dark pits. His flesh thin and drawn over his strong features. His colour grey.

“
You look like you needed to sleep,” I said trying to guess his mood.

He shook his head, “I needed to drink,” he held up a skin of wine. Oh, joy. “Kay asked me how I could forgive you so fast,” he said, the tone bitter once more. I remained silent, though the same thoughts occurred to me. “I told him about the dreams. He laughed.”

“
Kay has never understood your ties to other worlds, Arthur. He is a practical man, he has never understood signs and symbols. He has never understood our friendship,” I said carefully.

“
Our friendship,” Arthur echoed dully, hanging his head between his shoulders. His elbows on his knees. The shadows drew close to him and sucked at him deeply. The thought disturbed me on a level I didn’t understand. I felt drawn to him so strongly my legs moved before I’d realised I’d flung the blankets off. The cold air nipped at my bare skin. I walked to his side and knelt, gently taking the wine from his unresisting fingers.

I stroked the short blonde hair, “You need help, Arthur. Let me help you and we will bring Camelot back to you.”

“
You can’t bring Guinevere back,” he said.

I paused, “No, I can’t. I am sorry.”

“
You weren’t the only one,” he said quietly.

My breath hissed out of me, “I don’t believe that.”

He looked at me his eyes haunted once more, “You should. She never loved me, Lancelot she thinks I am deeply perverted. She thinks I love you too well. I have been so jealous of your time with her but I knew it was the closest I could come to loving you so I let it happen.”

I realised my mouth hung open. “Arthur, I don’t need to know this.”

His hand suddenly reached back behind my neck and held me fast. His blue eyes were bright with powerful emotions I only half understood. “I need you to know it.” The weight of his gaze and his hand became a crushing stone, trapping me.

I grabbed his forearm, more for security than any hope of disengaging us, “I will never leave you, Arthur.”

“
Promise me you will never betray me, Lancelot.”

“
I swear, my King, my brother, I will never betray you or give you cause to doubt me,” I almost tasted the wine on his lips we’d come so close together.

“
Am I wrong for loving you as I do?” Arthur asked.

“
I don’t know,” I replied as honestly as possible. I know what my body was saying but I had to think with more than my balls. “I do know you are deeply wounded, Arthur, and you need rest. You need to escape Camelot and you need time to heal. Ask me again when you are stronger and more certain of yourself. Until then,” I paused, hating myself for saying it, “we will wait.”

He closed his eyes, his face moved a feather’s breath toward mine and our lips touched. The lightest of movements, his stubble rubbed against my face for a heartbeat or two.

He pulled back more in control of his desires than I felt right then, he said, “As you wish, Lancelot. We will wait and I will heed your council.” He rose and walked away from me, yelling for his squire. The energy in him flipped so fast I found myself reeling.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

When it came to the final preparations, it didn’t take us long before we were ready to leave the city. Arthur regained control of his somewhat erratic behaviour and I received a pleasant surprise when I walked into the stable yard. Geraint sat on his big ugly roan gelding.

I laughed, “I thought you’d be here, protecting Arthur’s crown.”

“
What and let you have all the fun and all the glory, again?” Geraint said.

Else appeared, “You alright?”

I touched her face briefly and sighed, “I am now I’ve seen you, my love.”

We travelled with three packhorses, our horses and the four of us. Gone were the days when Else and I travelled with simple packs and just each other for company. Arthur finally appeared and grinned happily. He was drunk. The haze in his eyes clear under the light of the just brightening sky.

Geraint and I shared a look. This would stop the moment we were out of earshot of Camelot. Else frowned when Arthur patted her backside on the way to his horse but she held her tongue. I felt eyes in the back of my neck and turned in the saddle, Ash moved restlessly under me. I looked up and Guinevere stood at a window. Her beauty struck my heart like a dagger made from ice. As I stared up at her, I felt fear curl in my guts. She meant to hurt me and those I loved.

“
God, I bloody hope Kay can control that woman,” I muttered.

Geraint followed my gaze, his hand reaching for my arm, “Don’t, Lancelot, the woman is poison to you, always has been. Don’t let her rattle your cage.”

I pulled my eyes down and found Else staring at me. I smiled, a little shaken. She smiled back her eyes alive with the adventure and her regained freedom from Stephen de Clare.

Arthur naturally took the lead as we walked out of the stable yard and through another large gate over the moat. My body hurt and my face felt sore, but I’d survived and gained his trust. We had met our objective and remained whole. Now all we needed to do was sober him up and find Merlin so we could retake Camelot.

The trouble started even before we were out of earshot from the keep’s walls. I watched Arthur pull Willow up next to Mercury and engage Else in a quiet conversation. His hand snaked over to Else’s lower back and buried itself under her cloak. Arthur seemed to be rubbing the small of her back. I watched the tension in her shoulders ramp skyward. I pushed Ash forward only to have Geraint hold me back.

“
Not here, Lancelot, she can handle him and Arthur isn’t going to hurt her,” he spoke quietly, while watching our King.

“
What the hell is he playing at?” I snarled. Two things made me angry, one, he had his hands on my woman; two, he’d been trying to seduce me an hour previously. Did he say all that just to confuse me so he could move in on Else? And why would he want her? To hurt me, for revenge because he believed we were married.

“
Just wait until we are free of this damned city and we’ll tackle him together,” Geraint said.

So, I sat on Ash and seethed. We walked through the city, watching it rise to face another day of trading. The mighty commercial centre of our world. The noise levels gradually increased. The air smelt of bread and autumn frost, the tanners, soap makers, blacksmiths and candle makers were all up and about. Flower sellers roved through the streets looking for their favourite sites and others wove home muttering curses about daylight ending their night’s festivities. Arthur wore a hood over his blonde hair, to hide his appearance making certain we were not mobbed leaving the city. Finally, the city dwindled and we passed through a gate, which officially indicated the edge but always seemed a little arbitrary to me.

We pushed the horses to an easy canter and began to ride into the morning while dawn finally broke the night’s hold. The day came to us cold and fresh, as though the weather wanted to begin again just as we did, wiping the slate clean. Else fell back and rode next to me, we were silent but she relaxed when I smiled at her.

Riding south for an hour, we passed through the hills surrounding Camelot and into the woods. Geraint pulled up his big roan, Pepper, “Right, time for breakfast.”

“
We don’t need to stop until lunch,” Arthur said, holding Willow on a tight rein to prevent him dancing with excitement. I wondered when the great stallion last left Camelot. Ash looked odd in the dawn light, they tried to wash the colour out of his coat but he’d obviously made it almost impossible for them because he now had faded black patches, pitch black patches and the occasional white splodge.

“
Well, I need to stop and Lancelot needs to stop. We can’t push him today or he’ll become sick. He’s been put under too much pressure,” Geraint snapped. I’d never seen him angry with Arthur. Geraint didn’t become angry.

Arthur looked at me, “Do you need to stop?”

“
I think we need to talk. I need to know how we are going to find Merlin,” I said.

“
There’s dry wood,” Else dismounted and started to gather wood for a small fire. “I’ll have something warm brewing in moments.”

I dismounted without another word and Arthur harrumphed but finally followed suit. I watched him carefully. He burrowed into a pack on the horse Geraint led. He came out with a small flask. I glanced at Geraint, he nodded and we both approached Arthur. Else rose and circled around the other way.

Why so sneaky? Arthur is a dangerous man to cross. He’s a damned fine warrior and I’d seen no hint of the stable, sensible man I loved inside this shell. I had no idea how bad he’d been or for how long. For Geraint to be this angry it must have been months, therefore we were not taking any chances.

Geraint and I grabbed Arthur in the same moment. Geraint took hold of his left arm and shoulder, I his right. Else appeared and took the flask from Arthur’s surprised hands.

“
What the hell are you doing?” he cried out.

“
Stopping you from killing yourself or us,” Geraint said. Arthur tried to pull himself free.

“
Let go you damned fools.”

“
No, Arthur,” I said. “We are going to dry you out. Else,” I said to her as Arthur really began to fight and curse, “find all the drink in every pack and start pouring it away.”

Arthur finally realised we were serious when Else emptied the flask in her hand onto the ground in front of him. Our King became inarticulate with anger. He fought so hard I started to lose control. Geraint and I lifted him off his feet and lowered him backward onto the ground. We neatly rolled him and Geraint tied his hands with a piece of rope he’d been holding in his padded gambeson. Arthur cursed and thrashed. I kept my knee on his back until Geraint finished. Neither of us spoke. As soon as we were done, we neatly stepped back out of reach of Arthur’s legs and left him on the ground. He flipped onto his back, his face puce with rage.

“
I’ll have your fucking heads for this,” he finally said. The first actual sentence for a while.

Geraint and I stared at him. The irony of the situation didn’t escape me, a few weeks before it could have been me on the floor ready to kill for a drink. Else lived with me while I found my own way out of my depression. We were going to force Arthur out of his. Geraint just turned and walked away to help Else raid the packs. He seemed unable to deal with Arthur on any level. I wondered what had happened to my friends while I’d been away.

I crouched down. Arthur struggled upright, “You fucking prick. You vowed to follow me anywhere or was that another lie?” he spat toward me.

“
I will follow you anywhere, Arthur, but only if you are sober,” I told him.

Arthur tried to wriggle his hands free, “My circulation is being cut off.”