Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
What are you doing here?”
Bagotta’s expression remained fixed, save for the quietest flare of her nostrils. She was standing by the fire with her arms crossed. Remnants of the feast lay scattered across the tables.
“Can’t a father visit his children?”
Galehaut looked Brunor up and down, trying to reconcile him with memory.
It had been years. His thick beard was patchier now, his long red hair graying at the temples.
In Galehaut’s recollection, Brunor was as tall as Bagotta, but he barely came up to her shoulders.
What shocked him the most, however, was the softness of his face.
Galehaut had long pictured Brunor with a heavy brow and gaunt cheeks, a beak-like scowl.
But the man before him had a rounder face, with bright green eyes, stuffed like seeds in dough—a face that could be mistaken for kind.
The discrepancy made him question his conviction, but Bagotta felt otherwise.
“You and your ships are not welcome,” she said.
“My ships are berthed in the bay,” Brunor replied. “The others won’t come ashore. Just us.”
He signaled to his two guards. They wore leather sandals, red tunics and belts across their shoulders. Galehaut noted their swords.
“The castle is at the ready if they try,” Bagotta warned.
A watchman had spotted the ships before Delice and Galehaut. The feast had cleared out by the time they’d returned.
“There is no need,” said Brunor. “I won’t be here long.” Turning to Galehaut, he said, “My son, look at you. You have become a man.”
Brunor seemed to be sizing him up, searching for traces of the boy he once was. Galehaut could smell his father’s sour breath, the oils of his skin. The light from the hearth reflected in his eyes.
“Why don’t you sit down, Father?” said Delice. “I’ll fetch some wine. And are these guards truly necessary? Let us have a modicum of privacy.”
“Very well,” Brunor said, and he waved his men into the hallway.
“I’m eager to hear about my son’s training.
Word of Galehaut’s prowess reached us as we passed through Sorelois.
” He roved about the room, admiring the tapestries on either side of the floor-length window.
Wood carvings hung above the granite mantel, along with a shark jaw and other relics from the ocean.
“I believe this was mine,” he said, trying to lift a piece of metalwork from the wall, but Bagotta gripped his wrist.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said, muscling his arm back to his side. His mouth curved into a smile.
“Years pass and you still can’t keep your hands off me. I’ve missed this.”
Bagotta tossed his arm away. Delice swept in just in time.
“Sorry to keep everyone waiting.” Delice handed Bagotta a chalice of wine from the tray.
“Here, Mother,” she said. “Drink up.”
They sat at the small square table by the hearth. Brunor began to pick his teeth with the tip of his knife.
“It’s been a long journey,” he said. “I wish to stay the night.”
“You’ll sleep on your ship,” said Bagotta.
“Do you know how far I’ve sailed? I’ve come all the way from Northumberland. I live in Castle Pendragon now.”
“Pendragon, as in Arthur?” Galehaut asked.
“The same Pendragons, though none have lived there for generations. It’s ruled by Sir Brian now.”
“And Sir Brian pays tribute to Rome,” Bagotta said.
Brunor took a long draw of wine. “Thus my guards,” he said, nodding to his men by the door.
“So you were rejected from the Round Table, only to move in with their sworn enemy. You are a traitor, Brunor. A traitor. And now you’re in the Distant Isles doing Rome’s bidding?”
“More or less,” he said.
“Move on, Brunor,” said Bagotta. “There’s nothing for you on Giant’s Island.”
His eyes flashed to Galehaut. “But there is.”
Galehaut’s skin went cold. Brunor’s intentions were suddenly clear. He was here, on Giant’s Island, to take him.
“Not a chance, Father,” Galehaut said.
“But think of it. You could rule an entire legionary command. It would be my honor to have you by my side.”
“There’s no way,” Delice said.
“I’ve missed you, Galehaut. I shouldn’t have left the way I did, but I see now that it was for the best. You’ve grown into a fine young man.”
Galehaut was running his fingers along the grooves of the table. He had always craved his father’s approval, and he hated that he felt himself softening.
“This is nonsense,” said Bagotta.
Brunor took another pull of wine. “I’m trying to be reasonable. This is why I came here. I’m hoping we can make an arrangement.”
Galehaut’s stomach dropped.
“Stand by my side,” said Brunor, “and I’ll call off the ships.”
“Absolutely not.” Bagotta rose to her feet, but Brunor didn’t flinch.
“My guards are right there,” he said.
“You think I can’t take your guards with my bare hands?” She was close to his face now, veins bulging across her forehead.
“Mother, stop.” Galehaut fought a wave of nausea.
He’d seen the ships, assessed their numbers.
Leaving with Brunor, he suddenly realized, was the one way to prevent bloodshed and keep his family safe.
He would have to break his pact with Lancelot.
There was no other choice. The thought destroyed him.
“I’ll go with him.”
“No, you won’t,” said Delice.
“Delice, I—”
“No,” she shouted. “Father, you’ll gather your guards and vacate our island immediately.”
“I’m afraid I cannot—”
“Oh, but you can,” said Delice. “In fact, your very life depends on it.”
She produced a blue pouch from her bosom. Untying its gold string, she revealed a jar filled with a fine topaz powder.
“Henbane,” she said. “I dusted some of it into your wine. It’s tasteless. Soon you’ll have chest palpitations. Your breathing will grow constricted. Within an hour, I am sorry to say, your heart will stop.”
“You would kill your own father?” he asked.
“You are no longer my father.”
“My men will destroy this island.”
“Listen to me,” Delice barked. “Every poison has an antidote. If you tell your men to vacate Giant’s Island right away, I’ll give it to you.
All you have to do is pack up your ships and leave the Distant Isles.
You can head to Ireland, to Cornwall, back to Northumberland, it doesn’t matter to us.
But you will never sail through this bay again. ”
“Then I choose death,” Brunor said.
“Oh please,” said Bagotta. “No, you don’t. Think of that creature you call your new wife. Do you wish to make a widow of her? Stop this nonsense now, Brunor. Call off your men. Even I don’t want to see you die.”
Brunor ran a thumb down his sternum. His face was starting to twist.
“So, is that a yes?” asked Delice.
Brunor rose, panged already by the effects of the poison slowly circulating through his veins.
“You say I have an hour?” he asked. “I feel it now.”
“You have enough time to call your men away.”
Brunor started hobbling towards the door, then staggered, falling to his knees.
Bagotta looked to Delice. “Are you sure it won’t kill him quicker?”
“I’m certain.”
Bagotta knelt down to help Brunor to his feet. But as she did so, he slashed his dagger across her chest. It was not a fatal blow but it was enough to stun her. He pressed the dagger against her neck and slowly forced her to stand.
“I’ll take that antidote right now.”