Knight of Darkness (8 page)

And right now, with her touching him, it was all he could do not to dip his head and seize those moist, sweet lips.

Her brow furrowed, Merewyn tugged at the bracelet until she had no choice but to admit defeat. “I truly hate your mother.”

He actually felt her withdrawal from his arm like a physical ache. “If you were looking for me to defend her, you’d be sadly disappointed. At the moment she doesn’t rank high on my list of favorite people either.” He moved farther away from her so that he could clear his head. “C’mon, we need to get going before they find us.”

Merewyn took a moment to close her eyes and get her bearings before she followed after him. Why was she putting her life in his hands? He was the son of her worst enemy, and he bore a reputation for cruelty that was only surpassed by his mother and Morgen. They were being chased by
an army of dragons and gargoyles who wouldn’t hesitate to kill them…well, her they would kill. Him, they’d just capture.

I am the greatest idiot ever born.
But there was no way back from this. She’d cast her dice, and now she had to live with the consequences whatever they might be.

And that terrified her.

“What do you think is in the valley?” she asked Varian, as they trudged through the thick woods.

“My guess is a lot of pissed off men.”

She rolled her eyes at his acerbic tone. It was a well-known fact that Morgen banished all of her old lovers to the valley once they ceased to please her. “Why do you think she does that?”

“Does what?”

“Banishes her lovers there. Why not just kill them?”

He gave a cold laugh. “She’s twisted. No doubt she sees it as a fate worse than death for them.”

That still didn’t make sense to her. “Yes, but wouldn’t she be afraid they might find a way out of their prison and come for her?”

He paused to look at her. “I don’t think Morgen truly fears anything, do you?”

“No. She is a bit arrogant that way.”

Merewyn watched as Varian held a branch out of her way so that she could pass quickly through the overgrown path. And as she did so, she wondered about this man she’d joined her fate to. What made him so different from his mother? From the
rest of the Adoni she’d met? Unlike them, and unlike what she’d heard of him, he didn’t seem to take pleasure in hurting others.

Rather he seemed much more quiet and sedate—something that was completely at odds with the aura of power that clung to him.

“Were you one of the knights who quested for the grail?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged as he led her through the forest. “Only the pure of heart could touch it. I knew that wasn’t me, so I stayed behind where I could help protect Arthur’s throne from Mordred and Morgen.”

That made sense to her. “Your brother Galahad is the one who found it, yes?”

His expression froze for the tiniest bit of a heartbeat, but it was long enough to let her know that she’d struck a nerve with that question. “Galahad started for it, but Percival beat him to it. He was the one who brought the grail to Arthur.”

Merewyn’s breath faltered as she tried to imagine that moment when they’d first seen it. Like everyone else, she had no idea what it looked like, but she would love to know. “Did you get to see the grail?”

He didn’t answer.

“Varian?”

His entire body was tense, but not angry. “The Lords of Avalon never speak of the grail. Its power
is too great for that. But to answer your question, no. I only saw the container that Percival put it into as he carried it through the hall to Arthur’s throne.”

She could just imagine the applause and joy that had greeted Percival and Galahad when they returned with their precious charge. From Narishka and others at court, she knew the legends of the two men only because they would often read the tales of Arthur’s knights, then mock them.

Still, she believed what was written. Surely they were everything they were supposed to be. Golden and fair, seeking only to help those who needed it. Men who fought for a noble cause. Men who knew nothing of cruelty or maliciousness. How she would love to meet someone like that. Just once.

“Are Percival and Galahad as glorious as everyone proclaims?”

“They are good and decent men.” But there was something in his tone that belied his words.

“You don’t like them.”

“I liked Percival a lot more before he touched the grail and was changed by it.”

“And your brother?”

He ducked under a branch. “We need to move faster.”

Merewyn frowned at his admonition. There was something almost angry underlying his demeanor now. “You’re changing the subject. Why?”

He paused to give her a heated stare. “I don’t discuss my family with strangers. No offense.”

“You certainly haven’t hesitated to discuss your mother with me.”

“That’s because you personally know the great evil herself. The rest are off-limits.”

She opened her mouth to respond, only to have him grab her roughly by the arms and push her to the ground. She was angry until she realized he was covering her with his body at the same time a large shadow passed overhead.

The mandrakes were circling again.

“Not a sound,” he breathed in her ear.

Grateful he’d seen them before they’d been spotted, Merewyn held her breath as she waited for the mandrakes to discover their location. Varian’s weight was oppressive against her body, but she didn’t dare move even the slightest bit for fear of giving their position away. He shifted ever so slightly on top of her as if he realized he was hurting her.

That action, coupled with his newfound position, sent an odd wave of heat through her. There was something extremely intimate about this even though they weren’t being tender with one another. And as she lay there, looking up at him, she wondered what it would be like to have a kiss from him.

Even though she was a virgin, she’d been in Camelot long enough to know every sexual position ever invented. The men and women there didn’t really care who watched them while they sought to please themselves. Sometimes, they
didn’t even bother to find a partner. Rather, they’d touch themselves and smile wickedly while others watched.

It was something she’d only tried once, but like everyone else, her twisted body had repelled her so much that she’d figured either it was overrated or she was too inexperienced to understand how she was supposed to touch herself for pleasure.

Now she wondered what it would be like to share her body with Varian. If he were anything like the rest of his mother’s people, he would be not only an experienced lover but an extremely skilled one, too.

Biting her lip, it was all she could do not to rub herself against him.

Their gazes met, and time seemed to be suspended as they stared at one another. She saw a deep hunger in those green eyes, and she wondered if her own eyes betrayed her lust. Did he know what she was thinking?

He shifted ever so slightly, and as he did so, his cold armor brushed against her swollen breasts, wringing a low moan from her. She wasn’t sure which one of them was the most surprised by the sound. Heat scalded her cheeks, but he didn’t say anything as he broke away from her gaze to search the sky above them.

I am so embarrassed. Just let them find me and kill me.

She wasn’t that fortunate. Instead, she was tortured more by his close proximity.

By the time he moved from her completely, her legs were numb from his weight. Even so, she didn’t mind. There was a part of her that missed the sensation of him pressing against her.

He helped her to her feet.

They’d only taken two steps when something very soft grazed against her cheek. It was as if something had kissed her. She’d never felt anything like it before.

“Stun darts,” Varian snarled, pulling her against a tree with him. He shielded her body with his as the feathered darts began raining down all around them. They came so fiercely that they made a loud swishing noise as they shot through the trees and foliage.

She bit back a cry as one of them landed in her arm. Pain shot from her shoulder to her wrist as it rendered the limb completely numb almost instantly. The toxin spread through her entire body in only a few seconds, numbing every part of her.

Her arms hung limply at her sides, and her legs buckled while she struggled to breathe. It felt like something huge was lying on her chest, preventing her from breathing. Panic seized her as she feared her lungs and heart would freeze, too.

“Calm down,” Varian said as he scooped her up in his arms. “Stop trying to fight it and just breathe normally.”

She did as he said, and it did become a bit easier.

In all honesty, she expected Varian to leave her
on the ground and escape them. She would have done that to him.

Instead, he cradled her to his chest before a helm appeared on his head, completely obscuring his face and shielding him from the darts. He held her close as if she were precious to him before he started forward again.

It was so strange to be completely cognizant of everything around her and yet be unable to move even the slightest bit. She was utterly helpless. She couldn’t even speak.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice muffled by the helm. “They’re just trying to slow us down.”

Trying? From where she was sitting, they seemed to be succeeding.

Varian cut around a tree, then came to an abrupt stop. It wasn’t until he set her down to lie on the ground and her head lolled sideways that she saw why. There was a short, round kobold eyeing them through the trees. A cursed race of fey, the kobolds were more akin to trolls than their more fair cousins. Hairy, twisted creatures who could be kind or evil depending on their moods, the kobolds were best avoided.

Merewyn couldn’t tell if the creature was male or female. But it had bright blue eyes that were large in its round face. Unmoving, it stared at Varian.

“Friend or foe?” Varian asked.

The kobold licked its lips as if it were eyeing a
piece of meat it intended to devour. “That depends.”

“On?”

“What ye be looking like without that helm. If ye be a fair creature, the Rosebold means you no harm. But if you’re not, you’ll…” Her words broke off as three darts struck her. She fell to the ground, every bit as frozen as Merewyn was.

Varian wasted no time pulling the sword from the kobold’s body and strapping it to his side. “Sorry,” he said in a tone that belied his words. “But I appreciate the sword.”

He turned and picked Merewyn up from the ground before he started forward again. “We don’t have much farther,” he assured her. “Over the next hill and we’ll be at the opening of the valley.”

Merewyn helplessly watched as more darts rained down from the sky. Luckily they glanced off Varian’s armor. She, on the other hand, wasn’t so fortunate, as several more found her. At the rate she was going, she would be a permanent pincushion. Something that wasn’t helped by the fact that she was starting to drool on herself.

I might as well be cursed again!

How she hated this. But Varian didn’t comment on the fact she was disgusting as he struggled to save both their lives. There was no scorn in his eyes as he looked down from time to time to assure himself that she was still breathing.

The only part of this that remained in their favor
was the fact that the mandrakes were still airborne, though to be honest, she wasn’t sure why.

That changed when they topped the hill he’d spoken of and she saw the open meadow that separated the forest from the valley.

That was bad. Worse was the black, boiling water in the moat that surrounded the valley, and worst of all, there had to be at least fifteen mandrakes in the air, circling above the meadow as if they knew what Varian planned.

Varian paused as he surveyed the distance over the exposed ground and the dark water that lapped angrily against jagged gray rocks. He’d never been to the Val Sans Retour before. Now he understood why no one came back from it.

Just getting into it would probably kill them. But what choice did they have? Either Camelot or Glastonbury was certain death for them both.

The valley was only probable death.

Panting from his sprinting, he could feel the sweat streaming down his back and face. Taste it on his lips. His muscles strained from the effort of carrying Merewyn. Even though she was slight of frame, he didn’t possess his full strength. True, Blaise had healed his injuries, but he hadn’t been able to take away Varian’s exhaustion. Or the fact that it’d been countless days since Varian had been able to sit down and rest.

Now his exhaustion hit him full force. All he wanted to do was find a nice, quiet place to sleep until his head and body ceased to ache.

He looked down at Merewyn and considered leaving her here for the others. If he could run uninhibited, he might be able to make it to the moat…

“
We are the champions of the weak. Because we are strong, we fight for those who can’t.
” Arthur’s words haunted him. His king had drilled morals into his head at every turn.

Merewyn had trusted him to see her to safety. She’d exposed herself to his mother’s cruelty to free him.

Now it all looked to be in vain.

Think Varian, think
…

They were so close he could taste it. If only he had his magick. Then it would be easy to summon cover or shield. Hell, he’d be able to flash them into the valley or better yet, home to Avalon. But he didn’t have it…

Suddenly, there was a loud thrashing behind him. He turned to see the gargoyles stomping through the brush, looking for them. They were getting closer by the second. He looked up and saw the dragons eyeing the meadow, waiting for him to break cover and cross it.

He couldn’t go back.

He couldn’t go forward.

What was left?

“We are so screwed.”

Merewyn saw the panic in Varian’s eyes through the slit in his helm as she heard his whispered words. She had to give him credit, he was still
trying to save her. It wasn’t his fault it was hopeless.

At least he’d tried. It was more than anyone else had ever done for her.