The Darkest Knight (Guardians of Camelot #3) - Victoria Sue Page 0,39
“You’re the one that came into contact with Mordred’s fists, but no. They are assuming I am a page, and obviously much younger. Davidas has adopted me.” He shook his head as if that thought was ridiculous and scooped up a little stew with a piece of bread and offered it. Charles took it, chewed, and swallowed, trying not to wince at the cut on his lip. He wasn’t especially hungry, but he would do anything to keep Kay here a little while, and if the guard saw him not eating, he might make Kay leave.
“Is this the battle Lance spoke of? We are fortunate no one would recognize you,” Charles asked between mouthfuls.
“And I don’t think Galahad would risk the others being here.”
It was a sober thought that any mistake could cause a ripple of change that would affect history for a long time, and not necessarily for the better.
Kay offered Charles more food, and they worked out Charles had appeared a good four or five hours before Kay. They didn’t know how the magic worked, but they weren’t surprised the timings had been a little apart. Kay told him what he knew including where they were. “They think the Saxons may attack tonight under cover of darkness. The difficulty is going to be how to get you free so you can make sure the sword isn’t taken.”
“You will have to do that.” Charles pressed on when Kay looked unsure. “I mean it. If you can stop the sword being taken, do it. I’ll worry about getting out of here.”
“No.” Kay shook his head stubbornly. “We’re doing this together.” He looked up when Charles didn’t answer him. “I’m not returning without you.”
“That’s assuming we know how to return or if we have any choice. I hope it will happen when our task is completed, but we can’t be sure.” Charles wished he could touch Kay’s cheek and smooth a little of the worry lining his eyes away. “The important thing is to stop the sword being taken tomorrow by Mordred. Nothing else matters, and certainly not me. Don’t get yourself caught. If we are both trapped, the sword will be lost.”
“No, I—”
“Please,” Charles whispered. “And don’t think for one second I’m not glad you want to see me safe, especially…” But Charles trailed off. Especially what? Especially because Kay wanted them to be together forever and Charles had rejected him? Kay reached out gently and touched Charles’s swollen face, and for a brief moment, Charles reveled in the touch of those warm fingers and remembered them on his skin.
“I won’t stop trying.” Charles nodded but knew Kay wasn’t talking about their mission. He meant with him.
“Go, before you raise suspicions.”
Kay opened his mouth to object, but the tent flap opened. “Hurry up,” the guard said and let it fall again.
“I haven’t worked out what to do, but I will.” Kay held out the last piece of bread, and Charles opened his mouth but gently trapped Kay’s fingers when he would have withdrawn them. Kay stared for a second before Charles let go and swallowed, offering some more wine.
“Kay,” Charles urged. “I mean it. The important thing is the sword.”
“I can’t—”
“You may have to,” Charles said gently. The guard stuck his head in, and Kay left without looking back. Charles listened to the sound of the camp quietening and was very grateful when a guard came and allowed him to pee in a pot. He wouldn’t untie him, and the whole exercise was humiliating. That time, he had been glad it wasn’t Kay.
Charles was dozing the next time he heard the tent open and eagerly opened his eyes in case it was Kay. Charles’s breath hitched in his throat as Merlin came to stand in front of him. It was strange seeing someone else with the same eyes.
“Magic has touched you many times, but you don’t wield it yourself.” Merlin smiled after that ominous pronouncement and then perched on the edge of a chest about six feet away from him.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Charles said, feigning bemusement. “You make no sense.”
“You are not native to Damascus,” Merlin said with conviction.
Charles shrugged. “I have no way of proving to you where I come from.”
“And yet no matter what you say I don’t get the sense you have a home at all.” It was so close to the truth, Charles had difficulty containing the wince, suddenly wanting a home with a longing that took everything in him to contain.