The Legend of the King (15 page)

He was awakened by Mordred's voice. Not ten feet from where he lay, Mordred was talking quietly with a dark figure. Terence froze, at any second expecting the flashing blow that would end his life, but the voice went on, as if Mordred was unaware of his presence. Turning his eyes to the sky, Terence saw by the moon's position that he had slept without moving for at least six hours.

Mordred said, "She promised she'd send word soon. How much longer am I to wait?"

"Has our Good Lady ever let you down before?" wheezed a dusty voice. It was the crone who had been with Mordred before, Hag Karnis, but her voice sounded weaker and more querulous than Terence remembered.

"Let me down? You don't want to get me started," Mordred said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Oh, I'll grant you, she's always done her part in one of her own plots, but she was a damned bad mother, you know."

"Your Highness!" gasped the hag. "Never have I heard you say such a thing about our Good Lady!"

"Yes, well, it never occurred to me until just now, but it's true. She never did one thing for me that wasn't really for her own benefit, and so I'll tell her when I see her next. I'm tired of jumping to her command."

"Sire, please! She has ways of hearing what others say! You mustn't even
think
such thoughts!"

"In all my years I never have," Mordred said. "And now I can hardly think of anything else."

"You are bewitched! Some evil sorcerer is ... planting these rebellious thoughts in your head by magic!"

Mordred grunted. "Hmm. I wonder. Or, to look at it another way, maybe there was an evil sorceress using magic to
keep
these thoughts from my head." Hag Karnis didn't reply, but her outline against the sky shifted uncomfortably. Mordred went on. "That's it, isn't it? Mother's had me in a spell to keep me from questioning her. Well, it isn't working anymore."

"Please, Your Highness," the hag said. She definitely sounded frail now. "Do not be restless. Your mother wishes to make you king! Give her time. Wait a few more days. You'll see. There is no one who can stop our Good Lady now."

Mordred hesitated, then said, "All right. It won't hurt to let Arthur besiege Joyous Garde a few more days. I'll wait until the full moon, then march—whether Mother has contacted us or not! And, yes, my dear cringing crone, you're coming with us. Back to camp now. You go first."

The hag began to shuffle away, and as soon as her back was turned, Mordred calmly drew his long dagger and sank it into the crone's back. She shrieked with pain, and then again with what seemed like amazement. "You've ... you've killed me!"

"So?" Mordred replied indifferently. "You looked more than half dead anyway. But since I knew you were planning to send a message to Mother, yes, I've killed you."

"But ... I
can't
die! I've tied my life to hers ... it's impossible! She's immortal! Oh, my Lady, what has ... you said you could never die and ... oh, my Lady!"

The hag collapsed, and Mordred, having retrieved his knife from her back and wiped it on her robe, stepped over her. "It's fitting, really," he murmured, "that you should be as incoherent in death as you always were in life."

He disappeared into the bushes, and Terence slowly rose from his spot. A quick check confirmed that the hag was indeed dead, and then he took a deep breath and thought. He didn't understand all that he had just heard—the hag's last words were as incomprehensible to him as they had been to Mordred—but he had learned a few things. First, Mordred seemed to have lost his supernatural awareness of Terence's presence, which might mean that Morgause's power was cracking. Second, Arthur was at Joyous Garde—although why he should be besieging Lancelot's English home was beyond Terence's imagination. And third, Mordred would be marching on Arthur at the full moon. Terence brushed himself off, took his bearings from the stars, and headed north, toward Lancelot's castle.

Dodging Mordred's patrols and once trapped for four days in a cave with the White Horsemen camped outside, it took Terence nearly two weeks to make his way to Arthur's siege camp at Joyous Garde. It was worth it, though, because the first person Terence saw upon arriving was Gawain. Terence's relief at seeing his friend alive was quickly tempered with concern, however. If he hadn't known every line of his friend's face and every inch of his armor, he might not have recognized him. Gawain's expression was entirely changed. He sat staring bleakly into a campfire, his face drawn and bitter and his eyes somehow both empty and wild. "Milord!" Terence called.

Gawain turned, and for a second the savage emptiness of his face abated, and he said, "Thank God. At least I still have you."

"What is it, Gawain? Where have you been? What have you seen?" Terence demanded urgently.

"Gary and Lynet are dead," Gawain said dully. "And Gareth and Agrivaine, too, for that matter."

"Gaheris and Lynet?" Terence whispered.

"Lamorak killed Gary. I was there. I killed Lamorak, but I was too slow to save Gary."

"Lamorak?" Terence repeated blankly. "But why?"

"He was my mother's new consort and was protecting her. But Gary killed her."

"Morgause is dead?" Terence demanded.

Gawain nodded. "Ay."

Terence took his friend's arm and led him away from the rest of the camp. "Tell me," he said. "Every detail."

In a voice nearly devoid of expression, Gawain told Terence all that had taken place since they had parted in front of Camelot. First he summarized the events that had divided Arthur and Lancelot and had led to the siege of Joyous Garde; then he recounted his own experiences, from the siege of Orkney Hall and Gaheris's faked death to the moment when Gaheris and Lynet had died together beside the Enchantress.

"And this would have been the night of the half-moon?" Terence asked when Gawain had finished.

Gawain shrugged. "Ay, somewhere about then."

Terence nodded, murmuring half to himself, "That's it, then. Gaheris broke all of Morgause's spells when he killed her. That's why Mordred didn't feel my presence." He saw that Gawain was no longer listening, but only staring unfocused at the ground. "Milord, Gaheris saved my life."

Gawain glanced at Terence, a flicker of interest in his eyes.

It wasn't much, but it was enough for Terence. Holding Gawain's eyes in his own gaze to keep him from turning away again, Terence said, "You see, Mordred had a magical ability to sense people's presence, even at a distance. When I got close to his camp, he knew it, and I was captured."

"Captured?" Gawain repeated.

"But I escaped. Say, remember that knife you gave me before we fought the five kings? Where did you get that knife?"

But Gawain's attention turned within again. Terence repeated the question, and finally Gawain said, "Oh, Mother gave that to Father. I got it after he died."

Terence nodded and continued, "Anyway, I escaped but stayed nearby to watch Mordred's armies. Then, the night of the half-moon, I fell asleep and would have been captured again, but Mordred had lost his powers. So Gaheris saved my life."

Gawain nodded. "I'm glad of that, anyway."

"But Mordred is on his way here. We need to tell Arthur to forget Joyous Garde and start preparing for the real enemy."

Gawain said nothing.

"Well?" Terence asked. "Don't you agree?"

"I don't care who we fight," Gawain said after a moment. "I just want to fight someone. I think Arthur feels the same. Arthur's not the man he was a month ago. Neither of us are."

"Let me talk to him," Terence said calmly. He tried to sound confident, but his heart sank. If Arthur had changed as much in the past few weeks as Gawain had, there was no knowing whether he would listen. "Come on, milord."

To Terence's dismay, Arthur was even more changed than Gawain. His face was haggard, and the spark of humor and compassion that always lurked in his eyes was utterly absent. Terence reported Mordred's plans, but the king barely seemed to notice. After a moment, Terence said, "My liege, tomorrow night is the full moon. If Mordred leaves Abingdon then, he should arrive in a week. We can set a trap."

At last Arthur spoke. "I have no troops to spare."

Terence hesitated, then said, "You could withdraw from Joyous Garde." Arthur's eyes flashed, the first sign of energy that Terence had seen. Terence went on, "I don't know why you are besieging Lancelot, but—"

"Don't you?" Arthur asked grimly. "You haven't heard Lancelot's been betraying me with my wife all these years and now has joined with Mordred to steal my throne?"

"I don't believe it," Terence said calmly.

"You don't want to believe it, and so you don't," Arthur said bitterly. "As king, I don't have that luxury. I have to believe the facts."

"Belief isn't about facts," Terence said. "That's knowledge. Belief is what you know without facts, and I believe in Lancelot. He's a man of honor, and he's loyal to you."

"You don't believe he had an affair with my queen?"

"Yes, sire. He did that, and it stained his honor. But he ended it and gave up his knighthood. Only when he had restored his honor—by rescuing the queen and restoring her to you—did he return. Since then, he has been faithful."

"That's what I thought, too," replied the king dully. "I was even willing to believe Guinevere when she said she had been
tricked
into meeting Lancelot in her chambers at midnight."

"What?"

"Oh, haven't you heard that bit? They were found together in the queen's chambers. Guinevere claimed they'd both received forged letters asking the other to meet—but of course neither letter was ever found. Lancelot fled, killing Agrivaine and four other knights on his way out. Even then, I tried to excuse those murders as self-defense. But when he rode into Camelot to steal Guinevere away one more time, I had to face the truth. Lancelot's turned against me, and I won't stop until he's crushed."

The king's voice was quiet but implacable. Bowing, Terence turned on his heels and left the king's tent. He knew when there was nothing left to say.

"Any luck?" growled a gruff voice. Terence looked up into Kai's black eyes. He shook his head. Kai swore softly and said, "Then it's over. He won't listen to me or Parsifal. Gawain won't even try. Bedivere's gone. There's no one else he might listen to."

"You don't believe Lancelot's a traitor?"

"Do you take me for an ass? Of course not. Lancelot would die before he'd betray the king. And if it didn't involve Gwen, Arthur would know that, too. But when it comes to her, he can't see around that old blasted affair."

"I didn't know he still carried that with him."

"No more did I," said Kai, nodding. "But it was there all the same."

"We can't give up," Terence said. "Mordred's on the march, and he knows where we are. A week and he'll be here."

"Who's giving up?" Kai snapped. "I've sent for a mediator—Bishop Nacien from Glastonbury—and I've been trying for two days to call a parley with Lancelot. But so far no response either way. You told Arthur about Mordred?"

Terence nodded. "He didn't seem interested. At any rate, he refused to pull troops off to set a trap."

"At least we can warn everyone," Kai said. "Which direction?"

"He's been at Abingdon, by Oxford," Terence said. "But who knows which direction he'll attack from."

Just then a young man in chain mail came hurrying up. "Sir Kai," he said quickly.

"Yes?" Kai said.

"You told me to report as soon as anything happened at the wall."

"Yes?"

"A knight hails us."

"Who is it?"

"They say it's Lancelot himself."

Terence suddenly recognized the youth. "Bede?" he asked.

The young man turned and looked at Terence for the first time. "Sir Terence!" he said. Kai disappeared into the king's tent to report to him.

Terence said, "I'm glad you made it to Camelot."

Bede replied, "I didn't, actually. The army was already on the march when I joined them. The king didn't seem interested in my report." Then Bede added, "Sir? I've kept your sword and armor. They're in my tent. Sir Kai gave me gear of my own."

"And my horse?"

"Yes, sir. I'm glad you're alive, sir."

Kai and Arthur emerged from the tent, the king's face harsh and set in rigid lines. In the daylight, Terence was surprised to see how anger had aged him in just a few weeks. Arthur led the way toward the castle walls; there, on the battlements over the main gate, stood Lancelot.

"My liege!" Lancelot called, bowing his head respectfully.

"Liege?" Arthur demanded. "If I am indeed your liege lord, then you would obey me!"

Lancelot nodded. "Command me, sire."

"Give me my wife!"

Lancelot bowed his head again. After a moment, he looked up. "So you can execute her? I am sorry, sire. Though I die for it, that I cannot do."

For a long moment the king and his knight looked at each other. Then Arthur said, "Then I shall tear down your castle, stone by stone, and take her."

Lancelot was silent.

"Do you mean to stay there forever?" Arthur demanded. "Eventually, you'll have to fight."

"Yes," Lancelot said. "But I will not until I must. I will never raise my sword against you, or let the knights who are with me do so, until we have no other choice."

"That time is now," Arthur said. "You can't hold out against us, and when the fight begins, you can't win. Do you want your knights to be killed?"

"Do you want to kill them?" Lancelot replied immediately. "Bors? Lionel? Ector de Maris? They have ever been faithful to you. Which of them do you wish to kill?"

Now it was Arthur who was silent. Terence's gut felt heavy as he imagined fighting against these old friends—calm, dependable Bors; laughing, mercurial Lionel.

"I want to kill no one," the king said. "But I will have my queen, though I have to kill everyone standing in my way."

"That is I. No one else," Lancelot said calmly.

The king looked up, his eyes aflame. "Then I challenge you to single combat, Lancelot, to the death! If you win, you take her. If I win, she is mine!"

Lancelot shook his head. "I will never lift my sword against you. Never."