Chapter Twelve
“ I know who you are,” the words slipped out of my mouth before I could catch them.
Leodegrance and the younger man looked at me with surprise.
“Arthur pointed you out to me,” I hurried to say, my face warming as soft blue eyes stared at me.
Where Arthur’s eyes were the blue of the sky—this younger knight’s eyes were like the fresh, deep blue of cornflowers as they shifted between me and my father. Everything about the man seemed soft compared to the other three alphas I had seen the night of my arrival in the past.
“Gawain is one of King Arthur’s most trusted knights,” Leodegrance explained to me, seeming to shake off my odd behavior as he usually did. “He will care for you well, is that not so, Sir Gawain?”
I had to hold back the dry laugh that threatened to erupt out of me and instead pressed a hand to my mouth as if I was holding back a sneeze.
“Of course, your majesty,” Gawain hurried to say, his blue eyes growing big and round once he realized I wasn’t going to help with the king. “I will personally make sure that her majesty is safe and cared for.”
Leodegrance looked the younger alpha up and down, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to be trying to find some fault with Gawain, but the knight stood with a straight spine and as neutral of an expression as he could manage. Finding him unimpeachable, my father sighed.
“My dearest,” he finally said as he turned to pull me into another firm embrace that smelled faintly of lavender—my mother’s favorite scent. Yet another oddity when it came to this man.
The first time Leodegrance had hugged me I couldn’t help but stiffen, unfamiliar with the hug that a father could give, but now I settled easily into it and even wrapped my own arms around him and practically melted into the embrace. It was comforting to have a parent again—even if it was thanks to magic.
“Remember,” he told me softly, his face suddenly serious, “if you have need of me, I will tear this land apart for you.”
I nodded, feeling like I’d swallowed a rock as I pulled away. “Thank you, father.”
The name rolled easily off of my tongue now and I watched him turn to leave with a bittersweet feeling in my chest.
“Your majesty?” Gawain’s voice cut through my sudden melancholy and I remembered that the alpha was still standing next to me, watching the interaction. “Are you ready to leave?”
I glanced back at the castle one last time before nodding. “Yes, though I’ll have you know I’ve never been on a horse before.”
Gawain’s brows rose as he looked from his horse to me and back to the horse again. “Never? What did you use to travel distances?”
“Cars, trains, and planes?” I answered unhelpfully, not sure how to explain a great metal machine on four wheels that runs on gasoline. Would he even know what gasoline was? I highly doubted it. “Just show me how to get on and I’ll figure it out from there.”
Gawain shuffled uncomfortably, looking down at his boots as his ears, which were peeking out from underneath his curly brown hair, started to turn red.
“What?” I asked ducking so I could get a better look at his face. “Is it that embarrassing to help me?”
“No, your majesty,” Gawain hurried to say, straightening as he seemed to make an internal decision. “It is just—”
He stopped and sighed once before reaching out for my hips and lifting me off of the ground in one swift motion.
Swallowing the squeal that was bubbling up in my throat, I was suddenly placed at the front of the leather saddle. Reaching out, I held onto the little horn at the top to keep myself from falling backwards and glared down at the man who was still holding onto my waist. “Some warning would have been nice.”
“Apologies, your majesty,” Gawain said, though I could see a little sparkle of mischief in the man’s blue eyes that told me that he’d enjoyed my discomfort.
“Call me Gwen,” I told him, not liking all of the ‘your majesties’ being thrown my way.
I had barely gotten used to the ‘your highnesses’ and now I had a new title and a new reverence.
Queen of Camelot.
I snorted inwardly at that. It was more like the queen of a fate doomed to watch everyone around me die. Again.
I wasn’t sure who I had pissed off so much in another life, but it was getting ridiculous at this point.
At the flicker of unease that I was suddenly filled with, I felt something brush along the edges of my mind and the bondmark on my neck started to throb.
I vaguely remembered Arthur placing it there before I fell asleep last night. At the time, I’d been totally content with it. It felt like I finally belonged somewhere and the bite that he’d nursed with the flat of his tongue was proof of that.
But in the cold light of day I realized exactly what he’d done and the anger came after that.
Clamping down on my end of the bond, I cut Arthur off and watched as the man flinched in the distance where he’d been fiddling with the saddle of the great black horse he told me was called Llamrei.
I ignored his gaze and turned to find a suddenly bashful Gawain whose entire face had turned red at this point.
It was sort of cute the way he seemed to get flustered at the drop of a hat. As far as I knew Gawain was a warrior just as the more stoic Bedivere and the ever-broody Lancelot were—but everything about the man seemed softer and more… sensitive almost? It was endearing right off of the bat and it reminded me of the boys I used to date in college. The sort that would read you poetry and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
“I am not allowed to do so, your majesty, for I am just a loyal knight,” he hurried to say as he quickly put a foot in the stirrup of the saddle and slid in behind me.
We both knew that he wasn’t just a knight and the warmth of his chest on my back really drove that point home.
I was starting to think it was a mistake to ride with this alpha and wondered what the hell Arthur had been thinking.
While he’d been a few feet away, the smell of smoke from the early morning fires and wet dew on the grass around us had masked his scent, but now that he was right behind me and pressing up against me the scent of musky sage hit my nose and I couldn’t help but rest my entire body against him and let myself relax.
I wanted to remind him of what Merlin had said, but I still wanted to talk to Arthur again and try to figure out how all of this would work and if he even wanted it to work. Most alphas outside of a pack in my time weren’t keen on sharing either, so it wouldn’t surprise me if the alpha-iest man I had ever met didn’t want to either.
Gawain’s hands were soft on my shoulders as he gripped them, seemingly unsure of what he was supposed to do as he seemed to be smelling me just as much as I was smelling him right now.
I straightened suddenly, reminded of where I was. If I wasn’t careful I would end up being accused of adultery and put to death like the much darker iterations of the King Arthur myth had ended.
“Gawain,” a stern voice said from behind us as Bedivere trotted up on a gray mare, his silver eyes taking in our positions before Gawain also stiffened and sat up, grabbing the reins in front of me as if that was what he’d been meaning to do the entire time.
“Why is her majesty riding with you instead of with the king?” the older man asked.
Bedivere had obviously missed my very public argument with Arthur only moments ago and his eyes seemed to follow the line of Gawain’s arms as they bracketed me in on either side, keeping me on the horse.
I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn’t sure what the hell I could say that would explain our blushing faces. Guilt filled me at Gawain’s sudden stiffness and I knew that the coming reprimand from Bedivere would be hard, so I felt the need to defend him.
But thankfully, I wouldn’t need to say anything because Arthur’s voice boomed across the clearing.
“Sir Bedivere,” he called, his voice clipped and irritated.
Bedivere’s head swung around to where Arthur was gesturing for him to join him where he was talking with some of his other men and the older alpha shot us one last look before turning his horse and trotting off.
“Scary,” I muttered under my breath with a shake of my head.
I couldn’t understand how I was ever supposed to follow Merlin’s portent and create a pack with these men when two of the four seemed to hate me.
So many of the legends of King Arthur had featured an almost romantic edge to them as they spoke of the four alphas coming together to protect their queen and in turn she’d fallen in love with them easily.
Which is totally weird when you’re the said queen and you’re living through it all like it’s some kind of fucked up episode of Outlander .
Except at least Jamie was a hot Scottish alpha who was obsessed with Claire from the jump—and it didn’t hurt that I had a weakness for a man in a kilt.
Even now I could feel Lancelot’s cold stare from where he was standing with Arthur and when I turned my head to make eye contact those dark eyes were suddenly looking anywhere but at me.
No, definitely no hot Scottish men in kilts were going to come and sweep me off of my feet with their thick brogues and propensity to throw logs to show their strength. Sigh.
“Do not be frightened by him, Guinevere,” Gawain hurried to reassure me as he gently tugged on the reins and started heading towards the group in question. “Bedivere is just making certain that I am not acting out of turn, your majesty.”
“Gwen,” I reminded him absentmindedly as someone sounded a horn and the company of Arthur’s men started to move out.
I hadn’t realized it at the time, but now as I saw the entire entourage that Arthur had brought with him I could see that the king traveled with what amounted to a small army.
Which made sense seeing as there was no telling when the king may run into raiders, robbers, or the stray group of Saxons trying to move in on the tribal king’s territories.
This was a land at war, I realized with a jolt, and it was so different from the relatively peaceful hamlets surrounding the bustling city of London in the future.
London didn’t even exist yet.
I had been safely ensconced in Leodegrance’s castle for the last week, a place that looked like the very stereotypical castle that princesses lived in while dragons soared overhead. I hadn’t been afraid of anything.
But now as we rode down the winding path and the dense, green forest started to surround us, a sense of unease and foreboding filled me.
Do not worry, a voice whispered in my mind. It wasn’t the strange one that had echoed my mother’s words a week ago, but instead they were filled with a soft timber that could only belong to one person. No harm will come to you on this journey.
Wheeling around in the saddle and ignoring Gawain’s protests, I searched for the man suddenly talking in my head.
Merlin had continually made himself scarce to me—not giving me a chance to grill him about everything that he knew—and now he was whispering in my mind as if none of that had occurred.
The crowd of soldiers was thick and I was having trouble finding the wizard amongst all of the hustle and bustle.
Irritated, I replied back to him. Why were you avoiding me?
There was silence on the other end, and for a brief moment I was scared that I was just talking to myself, but then his sheepish voice filled my head again. The gods were not ready for me to speak with you.
His explanation was simple and yet it explained everything and nothing at all.
And do you listen to everything the gods say? I shot back, crossing my arms stubbornly over my chest, trusting instinctually that Gawain wouldn’t let me fall.
Merlin’s next pause seemed to create a distance between our minds, his words growing ever softer when he finally replied. Yes, why wouldn’t I?
I huffed an exasperated breath at that. Because you are a person with your own autonomy?
Wasn’t human free will the crux of most of the legends about the relationships between gods and their creation no matter the religion?
A soft chuckle rippled through my brain, sending an odd shiver down my spine. I am not human, Guinevere, have you not learned that by now?
And then he was gone and I was alone in my head again.
“Your majesty, are you well?” Gawain asked suddenly, shaking me out of my inner-reverie.
I turned to look at him over my shoulder, finding his brow wrinkled with concern.
“It’s Gwen,” I told him again.
Gawain pursed his lips, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
“Gwen,” he amended slowly, my name coming out awkward like it went against everything the knight stood for. “Are you well?”
I wondered how honest I could be with the man behind me.
Sure, some prophecy had foretold that we would become packmates and lovers—but I didn’t actually know anything about Gawain.
Combing through my memories, I tried to conjure up any information about the man that I had learned from my mother’s vast knowledge of King Arthur memorabilia and came up with a hazy blank.
Frowning, I tried to shake off the feeling of forgetting. I could recall everything else about the future with crisp clarity, but I’d started to notice when I would sit and try to think about the King Arthur myths the information was growing steadily more obscure to me.
“I’m…” I began, trying to snap myself out of my thoughts. “Anxious—I think.”
That was the only word that could maybe describe the swirl of odd emotions twisting around in my chest at the moment.
“Whatever for?”
I shrugged my shoulders, my fingers sliding along the shiny leather pommel in front of me. “I don’t know what to expect.”
“Do you not? You are from the future after all,” Gawain pointed out as if it was obvious.
The steady trot of Gawain’s horse was starting to make me feel drowsy and I yawned, covering my mouth with a hand as I tried to figure out how to explain that I didn’t know King Arthur’s story—at least not in any way that could help me.
I wasn’t sure, even if I could remember all of the iterations that my mother had been obsessed with, never mind which one was even the correct one.
“The story I know,” I said slowly, worried the gods would give me a gut-punch for revealing anything about Arthur’s story to one of the characters in it. “Might not be the one we are living currently.”
No gut punch came and I found myself yawning again like some unseen force wanted me badly to go to sleep.
I could almost feel Gawain frowning at the back of my head, but I was suddenly too tired to keep my eyes open anymore.
Gawain’s sigh was heavy against my back. “Get some rest, your majesty—”
I opened my mouth to correct him again but he was already hurrying to do it for me.
“Gwen. Get some rest, Gwen, I will wake you when it is time to make camp.”
I nodded and let myself slump back into his warm chest, the scent of musky sage filling my nose as I drifted off underneath the afternoon sunlight.
***
“She is not much to look at is she?” The booming voice of someone filled my ears, making me want to cover them to protect them from the sheer bass of it.
“Hush, Bran, she looks lovely,” another voice chastised the first. “Besides, it matters not what she looks like but whether or not she can fulfill her role.”
“Can she? She looks scrawny, and those alphas are not falling at her feet as that wizard of yours said they would.”
“Are you saying that my creation, formed of my own flesh, is incorrect, Bran?” A third, much cooler voice asked.
“Of course I would never, Arianhrod! Tell her, Rhiannon!” the first voice hurried to placate the third while calling on the second to back him up.
The names they were throwing about sounded familiar, as if I had known them my entire life. But where had I heard them before?
Many people believe this pantheon to be fake or an offshoot of Celtic lore, my mother’s voice echoed through my mind, but I believe they are very real, my little Guinevere .
“Oh look,” the second voice—Rhiannon—said as she ignored Bran completely before gasping, “all of your hemming and hawing seems to have started to wake her up.”
“Though he may be loud, it is not Bran who is responsible for the child’s awakening,” Arianhrod said, her voice so soft that, for some reason, I wanted to cry. “Child, it is time to wake up, your destiny awaits amongst the flames.”
I jerked upright with a ragged gasp, my eyes flying open into near darkness as hands steadied me.
“Gwen?” Gawain’s soft voice seemed to pull me completely back into the world of the living as the icy clutches of my dream still lingered in my shivering limbs.
“What time is it?” I asked groggily, wiping at my wet cheeks. Something had made me cry, I realized with a frown as I stared at my shining fingers in the dim light.
“Darkness has only just fallen, the king has decided for us to ride through the night rather than camp.”
I frowned. “Why? Is it usual for you guys to push through the night after an entire day of riding?”
I turned to face him and found his face to be grave—a far cry from the soft puppy-dog expression he’d worn before I went to sleep. The sweet Gawain seemed to have disappeared completely for the moment and in his place was a seasoned warrior who was on the alert.
“Gawain? Tell me what it is you’re trying to hide.”
Gawain let out a sigh of surrender before pointing over my shoulder to whatever was in front of us. I followed his gloved finger and gasped at what I saw.
We were no longer in the dense forest that surrounded Cameliard. Instead, Arthur’s entire company had lined up on the crest of a hill that overlooked a valley.
And in that valley there were several villages dotting the grassy hills, surrounded by farmland.
In any other circumstance I was sure they would look picturesque. Like something someone would make a puzzle out of or hang up in their farm-decorated kitchens.
But instead of looking adorable like that, the villages dotting the ancient English countryside in front of me were all on fire.
“Move forward!” Arthur’s booming voice made me jump as he spurred his massive horse forward.
“Are we going down there?” I asked, my voice squeaky with worry as I felt my stomach twist with sudden unease. My instincts were telling me that danger was afoot and that I wanted to be as far away from it as possible.
“We look for survivors, your majesty,” Gawain said, suddenly sounding far away from the sweet alpha that had been taking care of me all day. “And then we must bury the dead.”
I swallowed hard as he turned his horse in the direction of the first burning village, knowing I was about to see the true horrors that this time in history had to offer and I was about to witness them first hand.