Believe (21 page)

“Wise move.”

“—but you have earned my confidence and my loyalty. Now…” He reached over and took her hand. “I should like to hear more. Tell me, fair Tessa, of the future from which you come.”

“There’s a lot to tell.” She shook her head. “I don’t know…”

“Begin with the ball spinning through the heavens.”

“Okay.” She hesitated as if gathering her thoughts then launched into a saga too fantastic to be believed. Yet every word she uttered rang with the conviction of truth. She spun a tale of seafaring adventurers defying the wisdom of their day to travel ever onward in the same direction and at last reach the point where they’d begun. She spoke of carts and wagons moving without need of horses or oxen. She talked of fantastic devices to allow men to fly like birds through the sky and higher yet, beyond the clouds to the moon.

Minutes flowed to hours and they traveled on, hands clasped between their mounts, her voice bringing visions to his mind he didn’t dare accept. Yet, how could he not? He’d venture a query now and then but mostly he absorbed all she said like a parched man drinking at a spring. The wonders of her world enchanted him and cluttered his head with all he’d never dared to dream of. He marveled at her knowledge. Knowledge he grew more and more confident was indeed the truth. Knowledge of what was her past and would be his future.

And what of his fate?

The question hovered at the edge of his mind. She had not said a word about his destiny. Or his king’s.
Or his country’s. She had not commented on their quest. Would they decipher the riddle and meet its challenges? Would they find the Grail? Why, in all her discourse, had she said naught about that which concerned him most?

The sun drifted low in the western sky. They approached a small stream set in a clearing.

“Here, Tessa, we shall stay the night.” He slid off his horse and turned to help her dismount.

“What, no cave tonight?” she said lightly, reaching down to him. “Where’s a Hilton when you need one?” He set her on her feet and released her quickly.

“Wait a minute.” She studied his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I do not know what you mean.” His manner was curt. Why had she not told him what he most wanted—nay—needed to know? He pivoted on his heel and busied himself with preparations for the night. He pulled their bedding and bags from the horses, removed their saddles and hobbled them close to the stream, a short distance from where he would build a fire.

She stared at him silently for a long moment then turned to the bags with their provisions. Within minutes, he had a fire laid and sat before it, staring at the flicker of flame growing brighter. She settled beside him and handed him pieces of the bread and cheese they’d brought along.

“We didn’t bring much of this.” She eyed the meager meal with a skeptical smile. “But I’m actually starting to acquire a taste for it. Have I told you about pizza yet?”

He nodded absently but kept to himself. Did she not
know the answers to the questions raging in his mind? Would she keep such knowledge from him if he was to ask? A direct, forthright question? His mouth could not form the words. Why not?

Fear?
God’s blood, what nonsense. He was a knight. He had naught to fear from the truth.

Or was it truth itself that brought the rush of fear to his belly?

“I am not hungry.” He tossed the bread and cheese aside, pulled himself to his feet and strode to the stream. His mind was muddled with questions and accusations and confusion. Galahad leaned his shoulder against a gnarled oak and stared at the brook bubbling past until the sun slipped below the horizon and the moon shone bright as day on the waters.

Tessa came and stood silently by his side. “Time’s up. Spill it, Galahad, what’s the matter? What’s bothering you?”

“’Tis naught—”

“’Tis too! You’ve been here sulking or thinking or debating for a good hour now. What’s going on?”

“Very well.” He turned to face her. “Tell me the rest of your fable, Tessa.”

“What do you mean?” Caution edged her words.

“You have told me much about what will happen in the centuries to come. Yet you have not uttered a single word about tomorrow or next day or the day to follow.”

“I haven’t?”

“You know full well, on this alone you have remained silent.” He struggled to keep the anger out of his voice. Was he upset with her or himself?

She stepped back and raised her chin in the stub
born manner he knew all too well. “I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“Not a good idea? By the fires of Satan, Tessa, why not?”

“It might…” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Change things I guess.”

“I do not understand.”

Her words came slowly as if carefully chosen. “If I told you that you find the Grail, wouldn’t that affect how you acted from this point on? Wouldn’t you be more likely to take risks knowing everything will work out in the end?”

“Is that my destiny? Do I find the Grail?” He held his breath.

“Wait, I’m not done yet. What if I said you didn’t? Would you want to keep going or give up? What would be the point?”

He clenched his teeth. “Do I find the Grail?”

She stared him straight in the eye. “I can’t say.”

“You will say!” The words exploded from him. “By all that is holy, Tessa, tell me! Now!”

“No!” Her voice trembled. “Not now! Not ever! Besides, Merlin told me what happened once may not necessarily happen again. The major pieces of history, turning points, I suppose, can’t be changed. But smaller events, like your quest for the Grail, can.”

The truth of what she refused to say surged though him and settled in the pit of his stomach. “I did not succeed then.”

“I didn’t say that.” Denial rang in her words. “And whether you did or didn’t in some other version of this timeline doesn’t mean anything. Zip. Nada. All that matters is here and now.” She reached up with
both hands and grabbed his tunic. “Don’t you understand? We’re reliving these days, you and I. Together. Whatever might have happened before has been erased, the slate wiped clean. This is the opportunity you’ve waited for all your life. Don’t blow it because you think that, one way or another, it’s already determined. It’s not!”

“Are you to be my savior then, Tessa?” The words came out with a bitterness he did not intend and she jerked her hands away as if burned.

“It’s not like that!” She stepped back but he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look into his eyes.

“If you will not tell me of my fate, tell me this then: what becomes of my king and my country?”

“I can’t—”

He shook her sharply. “Tell me! If it is as you say and Arthur’s destiny cannot be changed by finding the Grail, ’twill make no difference to know. What does the future hold, Tessa? How does history speak of them? Of all of us? Are the deeds of Arthur and Lancelot remembered by man or is all lost in the mists of time that stretch betwixt your world and mine?”

“Stop it!” She wrenched out of his grasp. Her chest heaved with angry breaths and the moonlight reflected sparks of anguish in her eyes. “Why do you want to know? What difference does it make?”

“It makes a great deal of difference. To know my life and the lives of my king and my father have not been for naught. To know history has remembered us. To know my accomplishments and those of others I hold dear are not forgotten!”

“You’re not forgotten.” She shot the words at him like an arrow, unerring and straight for the target.
“Everyone knows the story of Arthur and Guinevere and Lancelot and Galahad and all the other Knights of the Round Table. Everyone knows all about Merlin and Camelot. There are vast libraries filled with books about nothing but your exploits. You’re a damned legend!”

“A legend?”

“A myth! A fairy tale! But you’re not history! History is real life and you and Arthur and all of it aren’t included!”

Her words slammed into him with the force of an unseen blow, knocking his breath away, chilling his soul. Shock coursed through him. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” She pushed her hair away from her face in a weary gesture. “In my time, nobody believes that you were real. That you ever existed.” She hugged her arms to her chest and refused to meet his eyes. “You’re a story in a children’s book.”

“How can this be?” he whispered.

“Merlin didn’t want your time spoiled by the scrutiny of history, so he made the world believe none of it was real.” Regret touched her voice and her gaze meshed with his. “I’m so sorry.”

He stared at her. ’Twas no doubt as to her words: the truth was revealed in her eyes. “’Tis no wonder you have questioned the reality of the world around you since our first meeting.”

“I didn’t want to tell you.”

He laughed softly. “As you have said, I am a stubborn man. I would not let the question pass unanswered.”

He leaned his back against the tree and stared at the
water. ’Twas a great deal to think about, this revelation of Tessa’s. “You have called me arrogant, as well.” An ache tore at his insides. “I have not thought of myself as such. Only as who I am for good or ill, yet I must be.”

He bent down and pulled a tuft of grass from the earth, crushing the blades in his hand. “’Tis an odd notion to learn you will live and die with naught to mark your passage on the earth save tales told in the night around a fire.” He opened his fist and sifted a few blades through his fingers. “Only an arrogant man would find such a fate distasteful.”

“You and Arthur and everything all of you did is remembered.” There was a desperate note in her voice.

“Aye, but not as real men.” He shook his head. “’Tis a difference.”

“Why?”

“’Tis better to be known for the fact, no matter how feeble, than the falsehood.” His hand dropped to his side and the last pieces of grass drifted to the ground.

“Do you hate me for telling you?” Fear shadowed her voice.

“Hate you?” He stared at her in the moonlight.
I could not hate you, Tessa. You may well be my soul.
“Did Merlin not say I could not find the Grail without you?” She nodded. “Then I was right.” He spoke more to himself than to her. “You are my savior.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want to talk or something?”

“I think not, but thank you.” He smiled wryly. “I do not find the same pleasure in speech as you do.” Even in the pale light, he could see the worry on her face. “Go to sleep, Tessa. It has been a long day. ’Twill be fine in the morning.”

She stared at him in the dark. “Promise?”

“You have my word.”

She nodded and walked back to the fire. He watched her for a moment or an eternity. He was right when he’d thought himself bewitched by her. Even now, stunned by the prospect of his fate, he could not help but wonder if her presence was worth any price. She did not believe in magic, yet did she believe in love? Surely not. She believed in only those things she could see and feel. ’Twas odd that he should wonder such a thing now. Still, wasn’t Tessa and the quest, the future and the past all entwined together like a vine climbing toward the sun?

He settled his back against the tree and stared at the sky. The moonlight had faded and the first wink of the stars appeared. Would it be so bad to have his life remembered as more than it was? The deeds of mortal men were never as good as the stories woven around them. He should not mind. He would not be around to witness it.

Would Tessa?

Would she return to her world when their quest was done? Would he lose her forever to a land so far away he could not truly imagine it? No. Resolve clenched his jaw. By the heavens he would not.

And he would not cease his quest for the Grail. Regardless of what may have happened in another time, another life, he would persevere. He would fulfill his destiny with the woman he loved by his side. And in the process, find a way to keep her beside him where she belonged.

He laughed bitterly to himself.

What else could a legend do?

What was he thinking?

Tessa pulled the blanket tighter around her and rolled over in a futile attempt to find comfort. Was the ground harder in the Middle Ages or was her twenty-first-century body just not used to sleeping on dirt and grass? Probably both.

Not that even a bed would make a difference right now. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have told him anything about his future, let alone that her world didn’t think he ever existed? She groaned to herself. His reaction was a classic case of shooting the messenger and she couldn’t blame him. She’d shoot herself if she had the chance.

Still, she’d managed to keep her mouth shut about his quest. She didn’t tell him he failed in reality but succeeded as a legend. Oh, he’d love to hear that.

She sighed and gazed up at the heavens. Weird to think these were the same stars she’d stared at all her life. Everything would change through the centuries but aside from a minor alteration here and there, the night sky would remain the same. She rolled to her side, wrapped her arms around the leather saddlebag she used as a pillow, closed her eyes and wished for sleep. Everything would be fine in the morning. Galahad had given his word and, just like the stars, that she could count on.

Minutes or hours passed and she felt him settle beside her. She opened her eyes and glanced at him. He lay on his back with his arms folded under his head, gazing upward. She ached to cuddle up next to him and offer what little comfort she could but what could she say?
It’s all right, Big Guy. Better a legend than
nothing at all.
No. He’d let her know when he needed her. If he needed her.

“Tessa?”

“Yes?”

“Is it a good children’s story?”

She smiled. He was all right. “It’s a great story.”

“Does it tell of honor and courage?”

“And loyalty and love.”

“And magic, Tessa? In this world of yours that does not know magic, does the tale tell of that?”

“Yes, and so much more.”

“’Tis not so bad then,” he said softly, “to be part of such a saga, real or not.”

“Not at all.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

He paused as if pulling together his thoughts. “Tessa, was this the truth revealed?”