19. Arthur
Chapter nineteen
Arthur
Forgive me. Please, please forgive me
S t. Nectan’s Glen was located in a little woodland just a 10-minute drive from Tintagel.
Since we still didn’t know how to make the Chariot work, we packed ourselves into our small rental car, which was looking the worse for wear.
Will sat close to me on the two-hour drive there, and I struggled to focus on anything but the feel of him pressed against my side.
The last couple of weeks had been stressful, not just because Will had almost died, but because I’d been struggling to keep my beast chained. It was hungry and agitated, wanting to be freed from my skin.
Will and his family had worked on different ways to help me push the demon back. I’d gulped down nasty tonics tasting of rotten meat, eaten ground up herbs that made my stomach revolt, and had even let them perform several incantations from some spellbooks they’d brought from back home. None of them worked well or for very long, and one of the spells conducted on me caused the strands of my hair to move as if they were alive. Which was not ideal. Even though I loved my hair, I gave serious consideration to shaving it all off. But Dorothy managed to make the locks stop writhing, and I hadn’t needed to remove it, after all.
There were a few times where the beast had managed it, usually when I’d lost myself to my thoughts and dropped my guard without realizing. But in those times where the demon surfaced, Will and his family were there to ground me once more. It worked, for the most part, but I saw the fear in their eyes when they realized how often the fiend was taking control.
But the past several weeks hadn’t been all bad.
I’d gotten to spend so much more time with Will and his family. Vincent had taught me some of his family’s recipes for all sorts of dishes, like spaghetti. Like, wow . When this was over, I wanted to eat spaghetti every day for the rest of my life.
Otto showed me how to navigate around on his phone, though all the letters and symbols overwhelmed me. I was pretty sure he knew I couldn’t read, even though neither Will nor I had told him. Not only did Otto teach me how to use his phone, he also showed me how to use the television, or TV, for short. I could have spent weeks becoming one with the couch if it meant I got to watch movies and TV shows. Because, whoa . A remote was just as magical as a credit card.
When Will thought I’d had enough screen time, Nana Joanne taught me some card games. I really liked go fish, though Nana Joanne always seemed to win, which made me think I was either really bad at the card game or that she was cheating somehow.
When she wasn’t busy brewing healing tonics or hair growth elixirs to keep on hand, Dorothy instructed me on how to wash laundry, though she’d tried to insist that I didn’t need to do it. But, I wanted to. I wanted to learn every single thing this new world had to offer. Because I was done grieving the world I’d lost, well, sort of, and was ready to find my place. I wanted to know I belonged here.
But that wasn’t the only thing I wanted.
Each day, I’d found it harder to keep my gaze off of Will. My eyes tracked him, unbidden, wherever he went; they latched onto every miniscule thing he did, every word he spoke from that snarky mouth. There was a need within me, a need that had festered for the last 1,500 years since Fate had gifted me visions of Will, and I was finding it difficult not to act on it.
Because I ached for Will. For this man I hardly knew.
Though, that wasn’t exactly true. And not just because Fate had gifted me glimpses into Will’s life and the kind of person he was. But because I’d been observing.
That was why I knew he liked squirty cheese straight from the can, and spicy cat puff snacks dusted in an unnaturally red color called Flaming Cheetah Toes. It was how I discovered he didn’t like waking up in the morning but loved the sunrise.
It was through watching that I learned his dreams were plagued by nightmares, both of the past and of days yet to come.
It was how I knew he secretly enjoyed his family’s ridiculousness, even when it cost one of them their eyebrows. That he appreciated the way his dad prepared snacks and water for everyone after a long day of training. How I realized he adored the way Dorothy kissed his cheek when she passed him by. Knew he looked forward to bantering with Otto; loved listening to Nana Joanne’s stories, including the incredibly intimate ones; acted like Gerry was a nuisance, but secretly liked his company; and I knew he liked me as more than a friend.
I knew he liked the way I watched him.
I knew the sound of his moans, the way those blue eyes rolled back in his head, and the way he stroked himself as he climaxed.
I knew he acted like nothing phased him, but he was scared of not reaching his goals. Of failing me, his family, and himself.
I knew he had a good heart. One I’d never be worthy of.
Yet one I craved, nonetheless.
So while it hadn’t been long since Will had rescued me, that didn’t mean I didn’t know him. I’d known him for nearly my entire life, and now, I was finally able to put the pieces of Will together to solve the puzzle of who he truly was.
The answer? Beautiful.
We parked in a small lot, mostly empty due to the rain, just down the road and headed out, following signs for the glen. Nana Joanne muttered the entire time about how old hips and hiking didn’t go together, and we had to slow our pace as we trekked up a path.
We passed a quaint church along the way, though we didn’t stop to look inside.
Instead, we followed a path up into some denser woodland. The walk itself wasn’t difficult, despite what Nana Joanne claimed, and we soon came across the most peculiar trees lying on their sides along the side of the trail.
Squatting low enough that Excalibur, sheathed on my belt but hidden by the rune, brushed the ground, I inspected the strange coins people over time had pressed into the bark of the dead trees.
There was something quite beautiful about it. Taking something most would have forgotten about and creating art from its deterioration.
Nana Joanne seemed quite taken with the trees, too, and I spotted her stealing a few coins when she thought no one was watching.
As we continued on, Will slowed to a walk beside me, sending a small smile my way.
We crossed a small river and delved deeper into the copse of trees. There were a couple times where I had to pull Will back by the fabric of his shirt when he almost toppled over the side of some narrow bridges, and I wondered how he was still alive with his luck.
Though, that thought left a sour taste in my mouth.
It didn’t help that the path was muddy and slippery, and while the others made sure to help Nana Joanne hike, I did the same for Will since he kept tripping and almost falling on his rump.
What should have been a short hike to the waterfall ended up taking us far longer than expected, and by the time Will paid for all of us to enter, I was about ready to toss him over my shoulder and carry him the rest of the way.
But as soon as the waterfall appeared, Will’s demeanor changed.
He got that look in his eyes that he’d had with the other Treasures. This far-off, hazy look, almost as if in a trance.
He swallowed harshly before meeting my gaze, and like he could see the question in my eyes, he nodded once.
A Treasure, maybe more, was nearby.
Because of the rain, we seemed to be the only ones here. Something I was grateful for, since the last couple of times we’d had an audience to retrieve the Treasures had been chaotic or stressful.
There was a little shed with wellies available for those who didn’t want to get their shoes wet, and Gerry, human today, raced forward to find ones in his size.
A gust of wind brushed against my neck, and I rubbed my nape as goose bumps raced over my skin.
Will didn’t join the others, instead stumbling across the rocks leading to the magnificent waterfall. When he reached the edge where a pool settled at the base of it, he stripped off his shoes and socks.
I followed after him, wondering what he was up to. “Going for a swim?”
Will glanced up at the sound of my voice, and I hesitated when I noticed how dark his eyes looked. Almost like his pupils were swallowing his irises. “Something’s down there,” he said, pointing to the shallow pool.
“Are you sure?” I asked, not meaning to doubt him but not delighting in the thought of taking a dip in the cold water.
He nodded, turning back to the water. “I’m sure. I think it’s the Knife of Llawfrodedd Farchog or the Whetstone of Tudwal Tudglyd.”
I knew the Knife was supposed to be incredibly sharp. Enough so that it could carve through meat and flesh with deadly ease. But my brows creased as I struggled to recall the Whetstone’s purpose. “What can the Whetstone do again?”
“If someone with a brave heart sharpens their blade upon it, then the weapon will kill anyone it draws blood from.”
“And if you accidentally nick yourself?”
Will opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated. He frowned as he mulled that over. “I think you’d die.”
I didn’t think I liked that answer.
Another whisper of wind blew over the back of my neck, and I shuddered, scanning my surroundings. But there was no one here, only the rustle of the breeze tousling some ribbons and charms tied to some nearby trees.
“ Arthur. ”
“What?” I asked Will, still looking around, wondering why I felt so strange.
When I set my attention back on Will, I found him frowning at me.
“I didn’t say anything,” he said, still eyeing me.
It was my turn to frown, “I thought you said my name?”
Will looked ready to respond when the others came clambering over, looking absolutely ridiculous in boots much too large for them, even Vincent.
Taking in his family, Will smirked. “What the hell are you guys doing?”
Dorothy’s entire foot slipped out of one of hers, and she sighed as she put it back on again.
“They didn’t have our sizes,” Nana Joanne said, leaning heavily on Otto as they crossed the rocks.
Will smirked, “I can see that.”
“So what’s the plan?” Gerry asked, wearing wellies on his feet and his hands.
“I’m going to feel around for the Treasures,” he said simply.
Gerry frowned. “Like, with your toes?”
“I told you we should have brought the scuba mask, but no one ever listens to me,” Nana Joanne grumbled.
“I thought it wouldn’t be necessary,” Will said, frowning at the pool. “Apparently, I was wrong. But I should still be able to do this without scuba gear.”
Nana Joanne sighed, “Let’s hope so. Because if we need to come back up here again another day, I’m waiting in the car.”
I thought I heard my name once again, and I started to look around when Will moved to strip out of his pants.
And whoa, he was... Ungh .
When he was down to his undergarments, these tiny black scraps that barely covered anything, he took a deep breath and entered the water.
It must have been cold because Will muttered curses the entire way until he reached the center. The water lapped at his hips as he walked around the shallow pool, shivering slightly. Rain continued to pour overhead, and though we had umbrellas, Will was left to suffer each drop.
When Will reached where the waterfall filled the pool, he stilled.
A resounding pulse echoed through the air, causing the water to ripple. The next thing we knew Will was diving beneath the water.
But through the buzz of nerves came the distinct sound of voices.
They were muffled and undistinguishable, but when I looked around to see if others had decided to brave the rain and venture up here to the waterfall, I found the area deserted still.
“ Arthur ...”
A prickle ran along my spine as I heard my name again, and the beast’s ears twitched as if sensing something was off.
Will resurfaced with a gasp, and a wide grin spread across his face.
“There’s a chest or something down there,” he said, shaking water from his hair. He met my gaze, and I already knew I wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “I think it’s a casket.”
“Ah, more dead bodies, huh?” Gerry asked, placing his wellie-covered hands on his hips.
“Otto, can you help me? I managed to shift aside the rocks and dirt covering it, but my magic won’t allow me to lift it. I think there’s some sort of spell on it that nullifies magic, and probably some kind of preservation spell as well.”
“Sure,” Otto said, yanking off his shirt and tossing it aside.
Gerry was in front of him in an instant, shaking off the boots on his hands and reaching for the button of Otto’s jeans. “Ooh, I can help! Gerry is very efficient at removing clothes.”
Otto stumbled back a step in his haste to get away from the demon and nearly tripped over a rock. His face burned bright red as he fended off Gerry’s assistance. “No, no. I’m good. Thanks for the offer, though.”
With a pout, Gerry dropped his hands and watched Otto finish stripping down to his underwear.
While Will and Otto retrieved the casket, the others and I remained along the pool’s edge. But I struggled to focus on the task at hand because those voices returned once again, still so soft.
“Do you hear that?” I asked, straining to hear the sound again.
Dorothy eyed me curiously. “Hear what?”
But then Will and Otto reappeared from the water, the two of them grunting as they worked to heave a large, wooden box from the water. Vincent and Dorothy rushed forward to help them drag it onto the bank, and the whispering intensified.
When I glanced at the box, I noticed Merlin’s mark carved into its lid.
As I stood there, the whispering voices only grew louder and louder until it sounded as though they were shouting. I slapped my hands over my ears to block them out, but it didn’t seem to help.
Vincent seemed to notice my distress first, and he grabbed Will’s arm. “Will!” he said, voice nearly lost to the earsplitting chanting in my ears. “Will, something’s wrong!”
I cried out as the yelling deafened me, and I collapsed to the stones, barely registering the pain in my knees as rocks cut into my skin. “Make it stop!” I shouted, shaking my head in a vain hope to end the thunderous din.
Cold hands cupped my face, and I stared up into Will’s concerned gaze, where he knelt before me.
Water dripped down his face, trickling off his nose and reminding me of when he’d rescued me from Avalon.
His lips formed words, but I couldn’t hear him over the chorus. But as he stroked my cheeks with his thumbs, the voices slowly receded until only echoes of words remained.
Slowly, hesitantly, I dropped my hands from my ears. But when no more clamor began, I released a shuddering sigh of relief.
“Arthur, are you okay?” Will asked, still holding my face.
“There were voices,” I said, wondering if this was it and I’d finally lost my mind. “Chanting.”
“The voices were chanting?” he asked, sweeping his gaze over our surroundings. When his attention slid my way again, he frowned. “Do you still hear them?”
I shook my head.
Will’s lips pursed, seeming unsure what to do.
“Will, is this the Whetstone?” Otto called, leaning over the lid of the box.
Reaching out, he brushed his fingers over something small and rectangular placed in the lid. At first glance it looked like an embedded plaque, but Otto was easily able to slide the narrow slab of stone free.
Otto lifted it up in triumph, turning toward us with a grin. “Will, look!”
But then Otto yelped, staggering back as a loud bang came from the box.
Releasing my face, Will hurried over with the others as several more bangs sounded. A splitting sound cracked through the air, and a mummified hand appeared from the space where the box had been sealed. It gripped the lid of the box with gnarled, decayed fingers and slowly shoved it open.
And when a headless body sat up from the box, Dorothy screamed.
We watched in horror as the body reached into the casket and grabbed its severed head before stuffing it back on with an awful, loud snapping sound. Then the body stood, and that’s when I spotted what it held in its hand.
A knife.
Will’s gaze locked onto the blade with sharp focus, and he sucked in a breath. “It’s the Knife.”
Otto grabbed onto Will’s arm when the body of whom I could only guess to be Saint Nectan turned toward him. He released a whimper as the holy hermit raised the Knife and pointed it toward him.
“Return the Treasure,” Nectan moaned, and Will and Otto stumbled back together.
Will raised his hands and sent a blast of his magic toward Saint Nectan, but instead of sending the dead man flying backward, Will’s magic seemed to bounce right off of him. The spell instead flew straight toward Vincent and me, and we dove out of the way just in time.
Rocks went sailing as the blast hit them, and I barely had time to catch my breath before that sweep of air tickled my neck again.
This time when I looked around, I gasped in horror. Standing all around us were armored men, their swords drawn and shields held at the ready.
But these weren’t just any men. These were my men. My knights. Those I’d sworn to protect and had failed.
Among the masses were Lancelot and Kay. Gawain and Galahad. Tristan and Bors and many others including Percival and Lamorak.
But there, front and center, stood my son.
My Knights of the Round Table stared with stoic expressions, and through my fear and confusion, I realized there was something very wrong here.
Because their skin was too pale, their gazes too unseeing.
Like ghosts.
“Arthur?” Will called, his eyes fastened on the men encircling us. The symbol of a roaring dragon on the pin fastening their cloaks on each of their shoulders.
“Yes?”
“Are these the Knights of the Round Table?”
I swallowed as Mordred turned his face to look directly at me. But it was all wrong. There was no sneer or glare. He was just... blank.
“Yes.”
He nodded, obviously having expected that answer.
Saint Nectan stood before them, the Knife still clutched in his grasp. But his yellowed, shriveled eyes were locked on Otto who still held the Whetstone.
“I guess it’s time to test our fighting skills, huh?” Vincent said, and magic curled around his fingers as he eyed the knights.
“I told you we should have brought weapons,” Nana Joanne muttered, hobbling closer to Dorothy. “But you all told me it was impractical to hike with a machete!”
“That’s because it is impractical!” Will called over his shoulder.
“But Arthur hiked with Excalibur,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but Arthur’s not eighty years old!”
“You’re right. He’s a helluva lot older!”
“That’s a technicality!”
“Guys,” Otto called, “maybe we should—”
But we never got to hear what Otto planned to say. Because in the next moment, Saint Nectan rushed him, my knights following suit.
Will released a slew of curses as he blasted the knights with magic. I was relieved when his power worked against them and sent them flying backward, unlike Saint Nectan. But no matter how many he sent shooting away, another one took his place.
I was so distracted watching Will that I barely managed to pull Excalibur from its sheath before Lancelot’s sword swung for my neck. I stopped the blow with the enchanted blade, and a loud clang echoed in the air as pain ricocheted up my arm from the force. Which really shouldn’t have been possible. Because they were ghosts, weren’t they?
“I thought you were dead,” I choked out, barely bringing up Excalibur to block another attack from behind as Gawain joined the fight.
Lancelot’s voice grated on my ears as he spoke, guttural and distorted. “We are. Because of you.”
I sucked in a breath as Gawain’s sword nicked my arm, but no blood oozed from the wound, thanks to my sheath and its magical ability. Gawain grinned a fierce and terrible smile, one with far too many teeth, and I retreated several steps as I calculated my next move.
My gaze landed on Will and the others who were being swarmed by the ghosts of my past, using the skills they spent the last couple of weeks honing to fight my knights who had a lifetime’s worth of training.
Nana Joanne held onto Dorothy’s hand as the two of them chanted, joining their magic together with bleeding palms. Something like white sand glittered and formed a large circle around them as they chanted, though I didn’t understand why.
I just knew I needed to get to Will and the others, but Lancelot and Gawain weren’t making it easy for me.
Gritting my teeth so hard they ached, I swung again and again, pushing them back enough so I could dart past them. When I reached the others, we gathered within the white circle, watching as it began to melt into the wet rocks.
“Shit, the salt circle won’t last forever,” Nana Joanne muttered.
“What do they want?” Dorothy asked, staring at Tristan’s angry face as he slammed his sword against an invisible barrier.
Each time one of my knights tried to pass the salt, they were forced backward. But we were rapidly running out of time as our protective barrier continued to dissolve.
We stared out at the crowd of ghosts glaring in at me, shouting at me, and my heart raced, not knowing what to do.
How did you kill someone who was already dead?
Their shouting grew louder and louder, each of them blaming me for their ruination, their death.
Tears welled in my eyes as I looked around at these men I cared so deeply for, who had suffered because of my choices. All because I let my anger control me.
Firm fingers gripped my shoulder, and a rush of calming energy wrapped around me, though not enough to fully ease my distress.
Will eyed me with a knowing gaze as he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Do you remember what I told you about curses?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
But he didn’t need me to. “Remember that there’s a reason something’s called a curse, Arthur. It’s because we don’t want its effects. You hurt people, people you cared about, but it wasn’t something you wanted to do.”
Vincent grabbed my free hand, slipping his fingers between my own. “The only way to move on is to forgive yourself for your past mistakes. You’ve lived far too long haunted by something out of your control, son.”
“Are they real?” I asked.
“Does it matter?” Another squeeze of my shoulder had me glancing back at Will who smiled sadly. “I think you’ve waited a long time to speak with them, either way. Don’t you think?”
He was right. They both were. I’d been plagued with my wrongs for so long, but unable to do anything about it.
I met each of their eyes as I released Vincent’s hand, dropping to my knees before my knights. “I failed you. All of you,” I whispered, my voice catching. Because it hurt to see them. To remember how I’d failed them all. “And I’m so sorry. So terribly sorry. I never wanted any of you to die because of me. Each of you has served me honorably and diligently, and though I know you’re tired, I must ask of you one more thing.” I wet my lips as I looked around once more at my men. “Forgive me. Please, please forgive me.”
A warm glow settled over the glen, and the salt keeping them at bay finally dissolved. But instead of attacking, we watched as one by one, my knights bowed, placing their hands over their hearts in respect.
Respect... for me.
Then, individually, they began to fade away.
When it was down to Mordred, my son walked forward to stand before me.
I braced myself as he reached for me. But instead of trying to hurt me, he cupped my cheek with cold fingers and leaned forward to press his forehead to mine. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to.
He radiated relief and peace, and when he stepped back, his body beginning to fade, I caught the slightest tilt of a smile.
With every last knight gone, our little group heaved a collective sigh.
But I couldn’t move from where I knelt upon the rocks, the memory of my son’s forgiveness still wrapping around my aching heart.
And Will was right. It hadn’t mattered whether they were real or not. Because I’d felt relief at finally being able to ask forgiveness from my knights, even though the knowledge that they were truly gone left me feeling bittersweet.
“You did it,” Will said, coming to kneel beside me. He was smiling, and my gaze caught on his dimples.
Vincent’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I gazed up and found him grinning. “Asking for forgiveness is never easy. You were very brave.”
Dorothy came up behind me and wrapped her arms tenderly around me. “We’re so proud of you.”
My tears spilled down my cheeks at their words, but while we’d all been distracted, Saint Nectan rose from the water, dove toward Otto, and knocked the Whetstone away and to the ground.
Otto shouted in alarm as the saint tried to grab for the Treasure behind him, and he managed to smack the Knife out of Nectan’s hand.
Vincent rushed forward to snatch the Treasures from the rocks, and the walking corpse’s attention turned to him. But I didn’t know how we were going to kill a dead man. I doubted asking him to forgive us would work like it had with the ghosts of my knights.
“Dad, use the Knife!” Will shouted as Saint Nectan clawed at Vincent.
Shoving the undead body off of him, Vincent slid the blade of the Knife across the Whetstone, determination in his gaze as the dead man rose to his feet.
With a warrior’s cry, Vincent lunged for Saint Nectan, knocking him back against his casket. The two of them grappled upon the rocks, but before anyone could offer Vincent aid, he slammed the Knife into Nectan’s chest.
Saint Nectan stilled, staring down at the blade. And when Vincent, lost to his desire to protect his son, yanked the Knife free and raised it to attack again, Dorothy called out to him.
“Vin, stop!”
Because as we watched, the magic that must have bound him here waned. Saint Nectan’s skin began to dissolve, and he smiled up at the sky with so much relief it hurt my heart, and I wondered if he’d been stuck here protecting the Treasures, unable to truly rest all this time.
The magical enchantment around him continued to cease until only bones and scraps of clothes remained.
Will was breathing heavily beside me as we continued to stare at the pile of bones, needing to make sure this wasn’t a trick and he wouldn’t somehow come back and attack us again.
But as the minutes ticked by, we knew it was over.
Otto dropped down on a larger rock, his face drawn as he stared out over the quiet, unassuming area where moments before we’d nearly died.
Vincent dropped the Knife like it had burned him, staring down at his hands as if he’d never seen them before.
And I recognized that look in his eyes. The lost look after taking someone’s life for the first time.
Dorothy rushed forward to wrap her arms around Vincent, and he buried his face in her neck as a sob ripped from his throat.
Gerry sniffed at the remains, and he frowned. “What do we do with the bones?”
“I’ll take care of them,” Will said, stepping forward with his hands raised. But then he seemed to think better of it and went to work scooping the bones up with his hands instead.
Once Saint Nectan was back in his casket, Dorothy and Otto used their magic to help lower him back beneath the pool. Their magic shifted the rocks and dirt back in place so that no one would accidentally stumble upon his remains.
We wanted the man to finally rest.
After the others put their shoes back on and Will and Otto dressed once more, we made our way back to the car. We were silent as we walked, the events of today weighing on each of us.
And even though I’d said goodbye to my knights, as I looked around at these brave men and women who’d fought at my side, I wondered if I’d gained a new Round Table.