Chapter 59
Camlann Plain was a strike of brilliant green under a golden sun, an ocean of grass that rippled like water in the breeze.
Ordes dragged his hand over his face.
It was over.
Only, it wasn’t.
The magic in his blood was a storm, surging through him like waves, one after the other, pushing ferociously against the cage of his flesh, wanting to get out.
As if it had a purpose.
Ordes exhaled sharply. There was a melody in his head, soft and powerful, a refrain playing over and over, a compulsion that left him restless. He knew what it was and had avoided admitting it to himself, but he couldn’t any longer.
The Grail was in this castle, and it wanted to be found. The magical vessel was calling out to be used, to do what it had been created to do – change the world. Ordes had hoped what they’d done would be enough, but he knew in the very depths of himself that it wasn’t.
They needed to complete the cycle.
His father had sacrificed his freedom to stop Niniane from destroying the world.
If he could do that… Jenyfer slipped her arm around Ordes’ middle and sighed.
They’d been given a simple room, but neither of them cared.
The bed was clean and comfortable, and they slept for two days.
Well, Jenyfer had. Ordes had spent most of the time watching her sleep.
A warm breeze gusted through the window, making inky streamers of her hair. The sunlight caught on the scales at her temples and the ones littered around her jawline. They sparkled like tiny jewels.
They stood in silence, heartbeats in sync, until Jenyfer sighed. ‘I’m worried about Lamorna. She isn’t… right.’
‘Are any of us?’ Ordes mumbled.
‘Aunt Tamora would know what to do for her,’ Jenyfer said. ‘When everything has settled, I might take Lamorna to Cruithea. I don’t think being here will be good for her in the long term.’
He nodded, ignoring the horrible pinching of his heart. ‘You should do that.’
‘You’ll come, right?’ Jen asked, hunting through the bundle of clothes someone had left for them. ‘I want to see if the lake you made me is still there.’
Ordes dragged a trembling hand through his hair. He couldn’t do this any longer. ‘I might not be coming with you, Jenyfer.’
She froze.
‘It isn’t over,’ he went on. ‘Mordred might be gone but the Old Ones are still free to meddle where they like… the world is out of balance. I can feel it. We need to find the Grail.’
Jenyfer shook her head. Her spine was rigid and she wouldn’t look at him. He saw her shoulders shake and hated that he was doing this, to her, to them, but he had to.
‘If we don’t do what we set out to do and reshape this world, who is to say all of this won’t happen again?’ Ordes asked. He took hold of Jenyfer’s arm gently and turned her to face him. Her face was frozen, as tight as he had ever seen it. He took her face between trembling hands.
She shook her head furiously. ‘No.’
‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘This is what needs to happen. It’s what was always going to happen. I know that now. We can’t escape it. This is my fate.’
Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. ‘I can’t lose you.’
‘You won’t ever lose me, Jen. I’ll always—’
‘But you won’t be! You won’t be with me. You’ll be dead, Ordes, and I can’t… I can’t… how am I supposed to live with that?’ she shouted, chest heaving as her eyes filled with tears.
‘You bullied the God of the Underworld into giving us an army that could not be defeated, so bully him into letting you see me from time to time,’ Ordes said.
He stroked her cheeks, trailed his fingers along her jaw.
Her lips shuddered. ‘It’s the right thing to do.
We’re part of a cycle, one that’s been going on for too long. This is a chance to end it.’
Jenyfer buried her face against his chest and sobbed.
Agravaine was in the cells, the wounded had been shifted into the Keep, and they’d discovered a horde of people sheltering in the storeroom beneath the kitchen – women, children, the elderly.
Refugees from Kernou. They’d asked after Ulrian, after Mordred, and Arthur hadn’t known what to say.
Calla had appeared and ordered them all out, sent them off to sleep and eat, and Arthur had never been more grateful.
Gaheris had told him to take everything one day at a time, let it unfold slowly, not to rush anything. He’d leave soon, get back to what he did best – sitting in taverns and talking to people, where he promised to tell the story of what had truly happened here.
Only, the story hadn’t ended yet.
Last night, as Arthur stood in the darkness of the Hall, Olwen had brought a Red Sister to him. Elaine the Seer had done her best to guide Mordred, and when she couldn’t, she let it all happen. The woman had turned her blind eyes on Arthur, and he hadn’t had the energy to be angry with her.
Now he was sitting in the hall, not on the throne that looked out over the room but at the long table, his head in his hands, shoulders sagging with exhaustion.
When Ordes and Jenyfer entered, whatever he had been about to say fell away as he took in their faces.
He shot to his feet, hands reaching for the sword at his hip.
‘What’s happened?’
‘We need to do what we set out to do,’ Ordes said. ‘We need to reshape the world.’
‘But,’ Arthur spluttered, ‘it’ll kill you!’
‘I know,’ Ordes replied. ‘If we don’t do this, how long do you think it will be before someone like my mother or Mordred tries again?
As long as the Old Ones remain free to walk in this world, they will continue to meddle in it.
If we’ve learnt one thing through all of this, it’s that power corrupts.
It doesn’t matter if one is a god or a mortal.
I can’t leave the world balancing on that edge – can you?
After everything, can you leave things as they are? ’
‘You don’t have to do this,’ Arthur said.
‘I do,’ Ordes replied. His hand stroked the length of Jenyfer’s back. She kept her chin up, but her eyes shimmered and her lower lip trembled.
‘Ordes—’
‘There is no point arguing with him,’ Jen said. ‘Believe me. He’s a selfless fool.’ She burst into tears, flinging her arms around Ordes’ neck and burying her wet face against his skin. Ordes met Arthur’s stricken gaze.
‘Tomorrow, we find the Grail,’ he said, his voice wobbling at the end. ‘And then we do this.’
Arthur nodded glumly. Jenyfer pulled free of Ordes’ arms and fled the room.
Ordes sighed and sat opposite Arthur, his head in his hands.
‘I don’t know what will happen. I’m scared to die, but I’m more scared at what will happen if I don’t.
The world needs you, Arthur Pendragon. That much I do know. ’
‘I don’t want to let you down,’ Arthur said.
‘You won’t,’ Ordes told him. ‘Will you make mistakes? Probably, but you’re human. Own them, learn from them and let them help you grow into the king my father foresaw.’
‘How am I going to get the people of Teyath to accept me as king?’ Arthur asked. ‘Just proclaim that’s what I am and hope for the best?’
Ordes smiled. ‘I think the Red Sisters will smooth the way for you.’
‘Like you already have. The people that have come from the south would not be here if you hadn’t delivered them the original version of the Word,’ Arthur said.
‘It’s only a slim volume.’ Ordes was gazing out at the brilliant flush of green that stretched from one side of Camlann to the other.
‘There’s a lot of space for you to fill, which I think was Ereshki’s intention all along.
People don’t need gods to tell them what to do or how to live – they need guidance, not rules.
And a leader who will listen to them, who won’t pass judgement, but who will offer compassion and understanding. ’
Arthur shook his head. ‘I listen to you speak like this and wonder whether Merlin made a mistake after all.’
Ordes huffed a laugh. ‘No. It’s not wisdom, Arthur.
I’m only speaking from experience. I grew up watching my father, my captain, lead his men.
He offered them a way to live where they could hold their own beliefs.
It didn’t matter who believed in Old Ones or if they believed in nothing at all.
Human, faery, Magic Wielder – it didn’t matter.
My father, for all his flaws, was a fair man.
He didn’t judge others for who or what they were but for how they acted towards their fellow man.
That’s what life on The Excalibur meant – acceptance, tolerance and empathy. ’
Arthur nodded. ‘Then that is what the world will be.’ He gazed out over Camlann Plain. ‘In honour of you, and of your father, I will keep the promise I made before we went into battle. The world I will create shall be as if The Excalibur and all she stood for had truly made her way to shore.’