Knight of Darkness (17 page)

“I would be your friend, Varian. If you’d let me.”

He clenched his teeth in anger before he stepped back, out of her reach. “Friends are only enemies who are able to come at your back. No offense, I’d rather keep my enemies in front of me so that I can watch them.”

Her gaze turned sad, but there was no pity there as she lowered her hand to her side. “When you’re ready to trust—”

“I won’t be. Ever. You’ve already told me that you would bleed for nothing.”

She gave him a wry smile. “And you think of yourself as nothing.”

Her words confused him as did her tone of voice. “So what are you saying? That you would bleed for me?”

“Yes.”

Varian laughed at the idea and at the sincerity she showed him. He was used to actors who could lie with the utmost conviction. He could even do it himself. “Just because you play in my hair and bring me food doesn’t mean you’d suffer to do so.”

Still, she held earnestness in her gaze. “I don’t speak lightly, Varian. I know very well what true suffering is and what I’m offering you. You
are
a noble knight and you are worth such sacrifice.”

Those words burned him. He hated the very thought of being in the same league as his father…his brother. “And you are delusional.
It’s never worth bleeding for someone who will only turn on you in the end. My only allegiance is to myself.”

“Then why did you let your mother beat you instead of joining their cause?”

“Because it pisses her off and may the gods forbid that I ever do
anything
to please that bitch.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe you would have suffered that much just to make her angry. You are noble, Varian, I know it.”

“There is nothing noble in me. There never was.”

“Then why am I here? You’ve carried me when an ignoble man would have fled so that he could save himself. You’ve tended me when others have left me to my own defenses. If that’s not noble, tell me what is?”

Merrick snarled from the other side of the fire. “Letting the rest of us get some friggin’ sleep!”

Varian glared at the man, then let all of his emotions pour out of him until he felt nothing but the deep emptiness that made up his life. This discussion was over. He had no interest in revisiting it. He was what he was, and she was a fool to put any faith in him. “You should sleep, too.”

“What of you?”

He moved toward the fire. “I was getting food.”

“And after you’ve eaten?”

Varian looked away from her, unable to face the invitation that was there. She was his for the taking, and he wasn’t sure how long he could deny
the part of himself that only wanted to claim her. “Go back to bed, Merewyn.”

Merewyn let out a tired breath. That was the last thing she wanted, but she could tell by the sound of his voice that he was no longer hearing her. He’d already withdrawn back into himself. There was nothing more she could do or say to sway him.

Lying back down, she watched as he walked over to where she’d left the meat, wrapped in cloth that Blaise had provided. Varian sat down beside the fire and ate silently in the darkness. She watched as the dancing light cast shadows over his long, muscular body. The way his jaw flexed as he ate and the way he avoided looking in her direction as if afraid of what he might find. He was troubled, but whether by their conversation or their predicament, she couldn’t be sure.

All she wanted to do was soothe him. If only he’d allow it. But Varian wasn’t that kind of man. She wasn’t sure if he’d tolerate anyone to comfort him. Ever.

When he was finished eating, he glanced over at her. She didn’t know why, but she immediately closed her eyes and feigned sleep. He wrapped the leftover hare in the cloth again. Brushing his hands against his breeches, he got up a moment later and left the cloth by the fire before he vanished into the forest.

Thinking he’d gone to relieve himself, she waited for his return.

Only he didn’t come back.

Merewyn sat up after a while and looked about. But Varian was nowhere to be seen. Scared something might have happened to him, she got up and went to the edge of the forest where he’d vanished. She gazed into the darkness, but there was no sign of him.

“Varian?” she whispered loudly.

No answer.

Merewyn chewed her lip in indecision. Should she wake the others to search? She looked back to where they slept so peacefully and remembered how they’d growled at them to be silent. They wanted and needed their rest.

Maybe she should search on her own…

She returned to the fire to retrieve the dagger Blaise had left there for cooking. It wasn’t a particularly large weapon, but at least it was something.

Her heart pounding in trepidation, she headed off in the direction Varian had gone.

You’re going to get lost…

Ignoring her inner voice, she pressed onward. If she didn’t see him shortly, she’d head straight back and wake the others to help search for him. As long as she kept in a straight line, she was fine.

She hoped.

But after a few minutes, she realized it was futile. There was no sign of him. No sound anywhere. The forest was so quiet all she could hear
was the pounding of her heart and her sharp, quick breaths.

Deciding this was total folly, she was ready to head back for the others when she finally heard something…

She tilted her head to listen as it was repeated. It sounded like splashing water. But nothing else could be heard. No humming, no voices. No whispering of the wind. Nothing.

She took three more steps forward. The forest was thicker here. The vines overgrown. She had to use the dagger to cut through them, but once she’d cleared the way, she froze where she stood.

The light of the full moon fell down on a narrow river where the moon’s shadow rippled and brightened the whole area. Varian’s clothes and sword lay just before her on the bank while he stood waist deep in the water, bathing. Merewyn couldn’t breathe as she saw him there, sleek and wet. The water ran in rivulets over muscles that were well carved and-defined. She drank in the sight of his beautiful naked body like a parched desert beggar who’d stumbled onto a well.

There had never been a better-looking man created, and it was all she could do not to close the distance between them and touch him to make sure he was real.

At least until her gaze fell to the sight of the scar on his shoulder of the grail with a dragon rising out of it. She’d seen that mark before on the
shoulder of the knight they’d killed and on Blaise. It was the mark of a grail knight, and it was from Lancelot’s cruelty to his son.

Her stomach shrank. How could any man have done such a thing?

Poor Varian. And it wasn’t his only scar. His body was riddled with them. One particularly nasty scar even bisected his left nipple. Accustomed to the Adoni who seldom fought with weapons, she wasn’t used to seeing a form so perfect with so much damage. His was a body that told of countless battles and fights. Of pain and war. Not that she hadn’t known that already, but to see it like this…

It broke her heart.

While she watched, he ducked himself beneath the water and stayed there for several seconds. She waited for him to break the surface, but he didn’t. Just when she was sure he was drowning, he finally stood up, this time with his back to her.

He slung his black hair over his broad shoulders and she watched as it slapped against his bare flesh—as it struck another mark on his back.

And in that instant, her world shattered.

On his left shoulder blade was the last thing she’d expected to see.

Varian duFey, evil incarnate. The man who was hated by both the good and the bad. The son of Morgen’s right hand was…

A grail knight.

Merewyn stumbled back into the forest, away from
Varian and the lush sight he’d made in the moonlight. Fear and apprehension filled her as the foliage swallowed all traces of her.

He was a grail knight…

She could still hear Morgen and Narishka scheming to find the six knights so that they could locate the grail. What would Narishka say if she knew one of the men she sought was her own son? How ironic. Narishka had tried to breed a tool for evil, and instead he was firmly entrenched on the side of good.

Or was he?

“
Varian was born of light and dark. Those two parts of him are at war with each other, and they won’t let him walk purely on either side. He’s too dark to be true to the light and too pure to walk solely in darkness. It’s his hell to be caught between the two forever.
”

And still he’d been chosen to protect the grail. How odd that his father had been judged unworthy while Varian hadn’t.

No wonder Varian didn’t sleep with women he knew. He most likely went to time periods where they knew nothing of Arthur and his Merlins. A place where women wouldn’t understand the significance of that mark.

But she knew. She understood.

She could destroy him with a handful of words. If he ever discovered what she’d learned this night, she was sure he’d kill her. She couldn’t even blame him for it. This was a secret to be taken to his grave.

Terrified of what he’d do to her if he caught her, she rushed back to the camp and lay down where she’d been. Her heart continued to pound in a frantic beat as images of him torturing her filled her mind.

I can’t let him know, I can’t let him know
…The words chased each other around in her head. Closing her eyes, she tried her best to relax, but that was impossible. Varian was his mother’s son, and she knew well what Narishka would do in his place.

If she were lucky, he’d just kill her quickly.

Varian waded out of the water to the bank where he’d left his clothes. The air was so still it felt unnatural against his naked skin. Hot. Heavy. But at
least he was clean now. He’d never been able to stand dirt on his body.

He wrung his hair out and used his bit of powers to manifest a towel. After drying his face, he slung it over his right shoulder as he stared at the bracelet with malice. There had to be some way to get it off so that he could use the full strength of his magick again. It pissed him off not to have access to the very thing he’d spent his life building.

Putting that thought out of his mind since there was nothing he could do, he quickly toweled himself off and dressed. But as he did so, he caught the flash of something on the forest floor. It glinted eerily in the moonlight. Curious, he buckled his sword to his hips, then went to investigate.

The silver flash turned out to be a small dagger hidden in the weeds.

Varian picked it up and frowned as he recognized the dagger Blaise had loaned him for hunting. The same dagger he’d returned to Blaise so that the mandrake could cook.

How had it come to be here?

Closing his eyes, he was grateful he had enough powers left to feel for its last user’s essence. But it wasn’t a man he saw holding it.

It was Merewyn.

A chill went down his spine as he saw her dropping it and scooting back into the woods. Had she come to spy on him while he bathed? He didn’t know why, but that thought sent a wave of heat
straight to his groin. It amused him to think that she’d have hidden here to watch him.

Had it turned her on?

That thought only excited him more until he realized what she could have seen…his mark.

She was one of the few women who would know what it was and what it signified. He curled his fingers around the hilt of the dagger as anger swept through him. Was his mark what had sent her scurrying off?

And before he could stop it, his memories surged straight to the past.

After the battle of Camlann, and once the surviving knights of the Round Table had withdrawn to the shores of Avalon, Aquila Penmerlin had gathered together the thirteen magical objects Emrys Penmerlin had assembled to help Arthur rule over Britain.

Even though he’d refused to fight, Varian had come at her summoning and borne the insults and hostility of the survivors. Like them, he’d stood in the hall of the Penmerlin’s castle and listened to Aquila’s wisdom.

“We have lost Camelot. We have lost Arthur. Morgen is at our borders and will come here to attack us at dawn and claim Arthur’s treasure. We cannot allow this. Should Morgen possess Arthur’s gifts, there will be no stopping her. Her evil will pour out over the land until she has destroyed everything. No one, human or otherwise, will be safe from her.”

“We have enough Merlins to hold her,” Galahad had boasted. “She won’t take Avalon.”

Varian had scoffed at his brother. “And they kicked your asses at Camlann, Merlins and all. With Arthur and his sons at your helm. What makes you think she can’t defeat you here?”

The words were out before he realized he should have stayed silent.

“Adoni traitor!” Ademar had drawn his sword and headed for him. “I say we should start by sacrificing the cowards who refused to fight with us.”

Merlin had placed herself between them. “Varian did what he felt was necessary to help us. You will not harm him on this soil or any other.”

Ademar had reluctantly withdrawn, but his eyes had promised a quiet murder should he ever happen upon Varian’s back.

At the time, Varian had had no idea why Aquila had wanted him there. Why she’d summoned him.

All he knew was that he’d found himself among his enemies yet again.

Merlin had pushed Ademar back before she’d addressed the others. “I want the Merlins to take their objects out into the world of man to hide them far away from Morgen and her army. Do whatever it takes to preserve them from evil. Protect yourselves, but guard your charges as if the fate of the world hinges on them, because it does.”

Percival had stepped forward then. “I’ll hide the grail at once.”

“No,” she said quickly. “As powerful as the other twelve are, that one object alone overrules them all. It’s too much of a burden for one man to carry. We will have six chosen ones who will hold a piece of the puzzle that will allow Arthur’s son to find it when the time is right.”

Percival had frowned at her. “But who will hide it?”

“I will.”

All eyes had turned to Guinevere as she pushed her way through the angry and perplexed crowd. Tall and proud, she’d been one of the most beautiful women ever to live. Her long, curly black hair had been pulled back in a braid, with small tendrils of it escaping to frame her lovely face. Her blue eyes had been honest and sweet, her mouth a perfect Cupid’s bow.

Gawain and Agravain, who’d carried the lie of her infidelity to Arthur, looked away, shamefaced. With the full grace and dignity of her position as Arthur’s queen and consort, she’d turned to address the gathered knights.

“My most noble husband is dead. My youngest son slain by his side. My eldest asleep to await the day when Morgen raises Mordred to fight again.” She turned a sympathetic eye toward her accusers. “Tongues have borne the lies and mischief of others, and now Lancelot is in the hands of Morgen. There is no hope for him as I’m sure he will tell her nothing. Save him if you can so that mayhap he will forgive those of you who turned against him.
As for myself, I loved Arthur with all my heart, and I know better than anyone the love he gave this land. I will not see his work and death go for naught. I will take the grail and carry it to a place where no one will find it. Ever. Once I’m sure it’s safe, I’ll do what my husband and children have done. I will send clues back to Merlin so that Draig may one day find it. Then I will give my life for the security of our people. Morgen’s treachery and evil will not win.”

The crowd began shouting in protest until Merlin held her hand up to silence them. “It’s been decided that this is how it will be. There’s no other way to protect that which cannot fall into Morgen’s hands. It must be done. And when midnight strikes tonight, everyone is to be here in Avalon. I, and the Merlins who remain, are going to raise a shield to limit the reach of Morgen and her people. Avalon and Camelot are going to be removed from the realm of man and will from this day forward be hidden behind a veil so that none of them will even know we exist. So long as a Penmerlin reigns here at Avalon, the veil will remain, and the world of man will be protected from Morgen and her army. We will hold the line here for eternity or until the day Morgen draws her last breath.”

Cries for and against Merlin’s plan had rung out.

Unable to stand any more of their fighting, Varian had left the hall and passed the black serge that marked the walls, reminding them all that
the king and his sons had fallen. The Camelot of old was gone. Arthur would never be here again to lead them. Tomorrow was completely uncertain, except for one thing. They would have a long, hard battle against Morgen and her evil. No one here would ever be safe again.

Varian had felt ill with his sadness.

As he reached the door to the bailey, he’d been shoved hard from behind. Angry, he’d turned to find Bors standing there. The knight still had blood on his armor as he glared his hatred at Varian.

“Are you not going to save your father?”

“No.”

Bors had shoved him again. “Coward! Bastard! How could you care so little as to leave him to Morgen?”

Varian said nothing because he knew the one thing Bors didn’t. He was too young to fight his mother. His powers too green. If he were to go to Camelot for his father, he wouldn’t return. At least not to fight with this army.

Even now, he could hear his mother calling to him, promising him his heart’s delight to serve her. The Adoni were dark in their ways, but when it came to his mother…

She knew what brewed inside him, and she knew how to twist it to make him join her. If she gained control of his burgeoning powers, there would be no one to stand against him. No one except Arthur’s son Draig, who was locked in stasis.
If Varian fell under his mother’s spell, he would use the years of buried hatred and knowledge he had for Arthur’s knights to destroy them all.

As he remained silent, more knights joined Bors. Together, they moved to attack him.

“Enough!” Varian had roared, sending toward them a sorcerer’s blast that rolled out from him in a wave that knocked them off their feet. He felt a silent wind whip around him, as it blew dust all over the others. There was fear in their eyes as they realized the exact extent of his immature powers.

It was why he wouldn’t be here tonight when Merlin worked her magick. He would go where he couldn’t hurt anyone. Where he wouldn’t have to choose sides or be used as a pawn. Where he’d be a danger to no one.

He’d spend the night in Glastonbury…with Dafyn and the others, and in the morning, he’d wander off and never be a part of this world again.

If only Varian had known then that it was his destiny to be a Merlin. By his going to Glastonbury, it had drawn the dark powers Merlin had tapped into toward that town and caused it to be sucked into the veil along with Camelot and Avalon.

It was his fault alone that Dafyn and the others were cursed, and it was a burden he’d carried ever since. He had destroyed the lives of every person there. But for him, they would have been as ignorant to the veil as everyone else on earth.

His heart heavy, Varian tried to banish the memories. But they refused to go. And this time they settled on the last time he’d seen Guinevere. It’d been at Fey Hollow. That nether time between night and dawn when the doorway to the Adoni world was open and thin.

Guinevere had sent word to him to meet her there at that time. The sky had just been lightening with the dawn when he’d seen her climbing the hill to join him. Pink and orange had laced the dark clouds above as the wind whipped her long, unbound hair around her shoulders. She’d been dressed all in white, her eyes tinged by dark circles that told of her long, hard journey and sacrifice.

Her face stern, she’d stopped just before him. “Your father is dead.”

“I know.” He’d felt Lancelot’s passing earlier that night.

Guinevere’s eyes had betrayed her own grief as she patted his arm affectionately. “He was a noble soul who wasn’t always good, Varian. None of us are. But he wasn’t as bad as you believe him to be either.”

Unwilling to hear her at that time, he’d snapped at his queen. “Why am I here?”

“Because I trust you with the most sacred of all secrets.” Guinevere had held out a small, tan scroll toward him. “I did as I promised. I’ve hidden the grail where it can’t be found, and here are the
clues for my Draig. Clues that will only make sense to my son.”

He’d frowned at her. “Why give it to me?”

“Because Narishka would never think I’d be foolish enough to hand this over to one of her bloodline. But I know you, Varian, born of the fey. You won’t betray Arthur any more than your father did.”

She’d stumbled then, and would have fallen had he not caught her against him.

“Your majesty?”

“It’s the poison,” she’d whispered in a shaking voice. “I was hoping it wouldn’t spread so quickly.” She placed his hand around the scroll. “See this to Merlin. All our fates are in your hands now.” She started shivering uncontrollably.

Varian had removed his own cloak and wrapped it around her.

“Take me home, Varian,” she’d whispered. “Let me die beside Arthur’s tomb.”

He’d nodded quietly before he did what she asked. Using his powers, he’d taken her straight to Arthur’s final resting place under the castle at Avalon. Her face had lit up the moment she’d seen his gilded image on his sarcophagus.

Two heartbeats later, she’d died in Varian’s arms.

Varian had held her there for the longest time as grief overwhelmed him. He’d wanted to cry at the loss, but the tears never came. Only a thick
sadness that seeped through his body and permeated every part of his soul.

He’d wanted to change the way things had turned out, but of all men he knew that he couldn’t.