The Darkest Knight (Guardians of Camelot #3) - Victoria Sue Page 0,40
you?” Charles deflected. Merlin smiled.
“I think you know.” Then he tilted his head in consideration. “I don’t think you mean our king any harm.”
Charles just rattled his bound wrists. “Maybe you could have a word with the guard, then, and get them to let me go?”
Merlin just gazed at him. Charles looked back. He had nothing to hide—well—except the obvious.
“Why do you hold the boy’s interest?”
Charles didn’t so much as breathe, then painted a confused expression on his face. “The boy?”
“You know of whom I speak. I don’t think you both appearing on the same day is a coincidence.”
Charles was tempted, but he had to be so careful. He was more worried if he didn’t find a way to free himself, Kay would do something reckless and they would both be caught. Merlin’s help might tip the balance. “You’re right. I wish no ill to Camelot or Arthur, but you have to let me go.”
“Don’t you mean Uther?”
Charles let out a huff in exasperation. “Uther, Arthur, both of them.”
“Then why did you name Arthur?” Merlin pushed. “Uther is king—”
“For God’s sake, Mel,” Charles hissed, losing patience. “The point is I don’t want to kill any of you.”
There was a small silence, and Merlin gazed at Charles quizzically. “What did you call me?”
Charles froze, then waved the name off. “You are the wizard, are you not?”
“I am Merlin. Why did you call me Mel?”
Charles shrugged, trying desperately to play his mistake down. “I must have heard one of the guards call you that.”
“No one calls me that,” Merlin said with authority.
“I really think you don’t understand what’s important here.” But Mel—Merlin—shook his head.
“I’m in no rush to do anything.” He crossed his legs and looked like he was settling in. “I want to know who Mel is?”
Charles grabbed the excuse. “A friend.”
“From home?”
Charles nodded a touch miserably.
I don’t get the sense you have a home at all.
Did he? He wanted one desperately, and for the first time his noble cause didn’t seem as vital. For the first time he wanted something—someone—else. And knew the home he was thinking of wasn’t a building. It was a person. He gazed at Merlin. How did he convince him without revealing secrets?
“I am prepared to be convinced,” Merlin said as if Charles had spoken the thought aloud. “But tell me first who Mel is.”
Charles looked into the bright blue eyes and imagined them easily in another face. “Mel is a friend. He is clever and brave and sees the good in everyone.” Merlin listened carefully.
Charles took a huge risk. “He loves another man.”
“And is that forbidden where you are from?” Merlin asked with a hitch to his breath.
“Actually no, or not where I live, and the man he loves returns that affection a hundredfold. He is called Lance.”
Merlin stilled. “Lance?” Charles watched as Merlin’s eyes became overbright. He was silent a moment. “That name feels so familiar. Who are you?” he whispered.
“I cannot say, but I don’t wish to take the sword. I was returning it to its rightful owner, and tomorrow during the battle I have to make sure it isn’t lost.”
“Why?”
Charles remained silent.
“You have to tell me something, or I cannot persuade them to free you.”
Charles thought quickly. “Uther’s greatest enemy isn’t the Saxons. It’s someone who is jealous and vindictive, and much, much, closer to home. You are uneasy now, but you have no proof.”
“You remind me of someone,” Merlin said after another few seconds. “Have we met before? Perhaps your family?”
Charles shook his head. “I have no family.”
“That’s not true,” Merlin said. “I am sure we have met, but I cannot place you at the moment.”
“My friend would say strangers are friends we simply haven’t met yet.”
Merlin smiled. “Your friend sounds very wise.”
Charles huffed. “I think he got it from a fortune cookie.”
“He is a soothsayer?” Merlin’s eyes widened. “And what is a cookie?”
Charles banged his head lightly on the tent post. If today wasn’t so screwed up, that would have been funny. “I think he is someone you will meet in the future,” he said carefully, “and you’re right, I’m not from Damascus.”
“But you’re not from here either.” Merlin didn’t say it unkindly or even challengingly, and it wasn’t a question. For a long moment Merlin gazed at him, and Charles met his eyes. Then as if he had made a decision, he stood. “Guards?” Charles froze. What was Merlin going to do? “I think the prisoner is trying to loosen his chains. Can you check?”