Lancelot and the Wolf (25 page)

We exploded through the inn’s door, fire racing over the ceiling and floor trying to cut us off from our escape. Our horses were in the street, tack thrown into the yard, Else relying on the warhorses’ commonsense to keep them close. A wet blanket covered me and Arthur. I stumbled to the ground and dropped him, turned and vomited.

Voices surrounded me in a muddle. I must have passed out briefly. “Get him moving, Geraint or we will all die,” Else screamed.

I struggled out from under the damp blanket, “Me here,” I gasped. My eyes focused and I realised the fire raged out of control and more golem loomed from the red tinged fog. Arthur sat upright, his head in his hands. I stood on wobbly legs and grabbed him under his arms. He wore his shirt, hose, doublet but his gambeson and cloak must be in his room. I lifted him to his feet, “We need to defend ourselves and we need to leave.”

He nodded and reached for his sword, it did not hang from his belt. “Fuck.”

“
Take mine, Sire,” I said pulling my beloved blade and handing it over.

Arthur looked at me, “You saved my life.”

I grinned, “My job. Take the blade, Arthur.”

He did as instructed and we moved toward Geraint. The big man nodded, “Think we’ll be fighting our way out of the town. Else is trying to tack up the horses.”

I turned back. She wrestled with the beasts needing to convince them to fight their instincts for running. “Else,” I yelled, “just the bridles we need to move fast.”

“
All very well for you to say,” she cursed me and Ash roundly.

“
Focus, Lancelot,” Arthur said firmly. The townsfolk descended on us, jaws snapping, hands grabbing and some managing crude weapons. We went to the slaughter and it was a slaughter. Even fire damaged, as the three of us were, we out matched each and every one of our enemies. The horses were soon under control and we mounted one at a time, the other two holding our position at the front of the stable yard. Once all four of us were mounted we began the slow horror of carving our way through the town and out onto the Levels. We were as silent as those we fought, marching the horses forward grimly, protecting Mercury and Else.

When we reached the edge of the town and fought our way through the last of the mobilised dead, we raced the horses into the fog. They ran, deeply relieved to be free of the clawing hands, stink and fire. We covered nearly a league before stopping and turning back. The fog glowed deep red, the town burning to the ground.

“
What the hell just happened?” Arthur asked.

Else stroked Mercury’s sweaty neck trying to calm his nerves. The whites of his eyes betrayed his thin veneer of calm. “Whatever has the power to create those things is not stopping their pursuit. They want you dead, Arthur. To destroy a town, even a small one, is a feat unimaginable. We should press on to Avalon and find Merlin.”

“
This fog is too thick to move safely on these Level’s,” Arthur said. “The road will peter out and the floodplains are too dangerous at night. I’ll not risk any of you to a boggy grave.”

“
Just one at the hands of the living dead,” Geraint muttered.

We walked on in silence, Else choosing to ride as far from me or Arthur as possible. He eventually spoke, “Interesting night.”

I studied Ash’s ears for a few moments, “I owe you an apology. I’m a coward, Arthur.”

He laughed, “Of all the ways I’d chose to describe you, my friend, I don’t think that one comes among them.”

I watched my hands, fiddling with my reins, “I am sorry. I lack the courage I need to give you what you want.” Those words shot through me as though I pierced myself with arrows.

“
Forget it, Lancelot. Forget everything. I was wrong to do this to you. We are different and I need to stop pushing. It won’t happen again.”

I glanced at him, shocked by his words. His tone hardened. The decision clear in the set of his shoulders and back. Arthur Pendragon was cutting me out of his heart. A huge chasm opened before me. A life without Arthur’s kisses or his hot skin rubbing against mine. But it did leave me free to pursue Else, to marry without complications and to work for him as every other one of his knights did. His blue eyes were shadowed, his face stained by smoke and soot.

The fog shrouded me, blinded me and swallowed all of me. I wanted, in that moment to push Ash into the white mists and never return to Arthur’s side. A future without him looked so simple and yet so fucking empty and pointless.

The road itself remained quiet. Occasionally we would walk through soft land, almost bog but not quite. Other times we would walk on layers of willow which had been laid down and tied, almost rafts in the mud. Other times we rode on stone, the old Roman road apparently. Trees appeared, clawing at the mists with hundreds of naked fingers. Willow the most common, looked like manic pixies, with thick trunks and wild hair. I wished I could see the Tor of Avalon, so I knew we were heading in the right direction.

“
Arthur,” Geraint interrupted my thoughts. “We should stop, the horses are exhausted and we need to sleep sometime tonight.”

“
We’ll stop there then. I dare not take us off the road. We’ll set watch and I suggest we sleep armed,” he said sliding off Willow.

I dismounted from Ash and took Willow from Arthur’s hands. He allowed me possession without comment. I walked the horses a short way from our position, toward a tree, overhanging the road we followed. Else brought Pepper and Mercury, the gelding finally calm. Willow and Pepper were the only two with saddles. We loosened their girths and allowed them all long rein, so they’d find their own food. Else touched my arm and before I knew what happened we were hugging each other tight.

“
You should talk to him,” she told me. “It’s not too late. If you want him, tell him but explain how hard it is.”

“
Let sleeping dogs,” I said. “I don’t want to cause any more problems. We only just escaped with our lives. I need to stay focused on my job, not my dick.”

She sighed and I heard the frustration. “Lancelot, sometimes they are the same thing.” Else walked away, kicking clumps of mud into the distance of the fog bound land. I returned to the others just as they tried to make a fire in the middle of the road without moving far to seek wood.

Else chose to settle a long way from the fire. I didn’t like her being so far from us. I walked to her and sat. “You need to sleep with us,” I stated.

“
All of you? My, isn’t that asking a little much?” she asked. The sarcasm didn’t escape me.

“
Else, please, if you are angry I understand but we need to stick together. Don’t make yourself vulnerable because I won’t play whatever game you require,” I realised my mistake as soon as the words dropped to the soil under our feet.

“
Game,” her voice dropped. “I have tried to make you understand, Lancelot.” Her hand rose toward Arthur in a casual gesture. Her voice resonated strangely and her eyes took on an amber light I’d never seen. We were out of earshot from the others and I could hardly see the fire.

The tension rose. I reined back my temper, “Really, love. We need to talk. I don’t want to fight, Else.” I glanced over at Arthur, so far so good. Nothing had happened to him.

She sighed, “You understand nothing, stupid man. It could have been so much easier for you. I can give you the world.”

“
Else?” I asked. My scalp prickled and my instincts writhed in fear.

“
I can give you everything Arthur has stolen from you, love. I can give you so much power.” She smiled and it twisted into something I’d never seen. She walked to me, her hips swaying in a way I’d never witnessed in my companion.

“
And what exactly is that, Else?” I asked backing off slightly.

She just looked at me, “Albion, Lancelot. Your land and mine. England combined with my own world, united under your leadership.”

“
Lancelot, I,” I heard Arthur call. I turned my head and began to walk to reach him. I watched as he fell forward, crumpling like a great golden statue. Geraint groaned loudly and just folded over where he sat, bread and cheese still in hand.

“
Arthur,” I called. My legs turned to ice water under me. I felt my knees sink into soft wet earth. “Fuck,” I cried out. I twisted, fighting the great blackness trying to sweep through my mind, “Else, help us. I beg you don’t let this happen.” I reached for her, dragging my slow body upright. She just stood, impassive, watching in silence. “Arthur,” I tried to scream but it came out as a whimper. I turned back toward him and pulled myself forward, my arms becoming as frozen as my legs. The mists swirled in eccentric patterns around my head, suddenly bursting into colours, reds, greens, purples and dull orange. I hauled myself another foot closer to my King. I reached for his outstretched hand. Our fingers touched as my limbs lost all power and my vision grew so dark not even the mist could penetrate my mind.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

The wet ground oozed through my bare feet, my toes wriggled into the damp cold soil and spongy moss. For the few feet in front of my nose I could see tufty marsh grass and a wall of white. No breeze blew but the mists shifted. I realised it brushed my naked skin as though begging for the right to caress me.

“
Arthur,” I called into the fog. “Geraint.” I waited for a reply. Nothing. Just a sigh from the mist, or had that been my own sigh reflected back? I took a step forward, half expecting the world to shift under me and vanish for good. The marshy ground stayed with me. I started to walk. Nothing changed. I began to run. As I ran, I thought about the white hart, between one pace and the next I moved from biped to quadruped. The ground now raced past under pads and claws, my speed increasing until my black fur became a blur.

I travelled for some miles before I stopped. I lifted my head and howled, knowing Arthur must be out here somewhere. The lonely cry shot through the mists more swiftly than I could run but no answering bark from the stag returned. I paced a full circle, sniffing the air, praying for a scent to tell me where I needed to go. The air smelt wet, earthy, full of winter death. I walked forward trying to gauge the presence of the sun or moon. The world appeared to be one huge amorphous blob of white.

I howled once more, confused and deeply afraid, still nothing. I drew in my breath for another cry, begging for help and a scent hit my sensitive nose. I froze and sniffed. Summer herbs? Why could I smell lavender? I followed the scent on silent paws. It grew stronger. My body tensed and lowered to the ground, my belly brushed the short spongy grass. The power in my hindquarters gathered, ready to attack at any moment.

A dark shape loomed suddenly before me. I froze, assessing the danger.

“
Ah, my wolf, there you are,” came a strong male voice.

I whined and rose, the tension in my body vanishing. I jumped toward the dark figure. The man crouched and laughed. I stuck my face into his and licked him, behaving like a huge black dog.

“
Oh, for goodness sake, Lancelot, calm down. I know you are pleased to see me, my old friend, but please stop. Your tail is wagging so hard you are going to fall over.” He buried his hands in my ruff and pulled my head back. I stared into the greenest eyes I’d ever known. He still appeared to be twenty years my senior, but who knew for sure. Those intense eyes were crinkling with joy, his smile spreading. A shock of silver hair, long and flowing down his back, with a black streak over his right eye, smelt of herbs. His broad shoulders and strong arms helped make Merlin a great swordsman, not just a wizard.

“
I take it you’ve been looking for me?” he said.

I desperately wanted my mortal form, then I’d be able to jibber at him about Arthur. Beg his help to save my King. I whined piteously.

“
Oh, my Wolf, you can’t change with me here. I am in your dream and I shouldn’t be. There is only so much we can both do under the circumstances. I’m afraid you will have to listen. I am not strong and we are not as close as I am to Arthur, though your own love for him bridges the gap well enough, that and your power of course. You will be able to help him far more than I can help you,” he said kindly. Merlin’s mercurial nature meant he changed like a coin spinning in the air to land on a gambler’s hand. Right now, he appeared happy. I’d seen him angry, I never wanted him to be angry with me, he is the only man who will make me feel fear.

I promptly sat, showing him I was ready for a lesson, panting slightly to enjoy the scent of a friend.

He chuckled, “Right, my Wolf is now paying attention.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, “Arthur is in terrible danger and has been for years. Separating him from you was their greatest victory. Capturing me their other great victory. Never chase a bit of skirt which has as many brains as you have yourself,” he sounded so mournful. My tongue lolled out of my mouth further and I wished I could laugh. Merlin frowned, “Hmm, well, regardless. This is why I can’t reach Arthur, I am held captive. I can only reach you in your dreams because of who you are.”

I whined, trying to ask, ‘Who am I?’ but he ignored me and carried on. “Therefore, you are the only person I can trust to help both me and Arthur. You must save him, his soul is the sacrifice they need to control Camelot and they will take it while leaving him there as the puppet. If they don’t take his soul they will try to take his life. My daughter is being tricked. The family who spawned her are using her, not helping her and she won’t welcome your interference. It is the reason I took her away. What I didn’t realise is the de Clare’s are under the influence of fey as well, which is how I have been trapped.”