Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) (28 page)

             
“This is madness,” he suddenly burst out angrily, sweeping his hand forward. “She had the sword
and
the emerald to begin with. Why go through the bother of giving it to me in the first place? Why would she want me to… to…” He shook his head turning away from me. “Why would they not simply hand it to Arthur instead of going through the trouble of putting on a mock tournament and entrusting
me
with it?”

             
He was right.

“You’re connected,” I said quietly, watching his face contort. “They need
you
for something; you even said you felt bound to it,” I pointed out. “Everything you did was for the sword.”

“No,” he said firmly. “She only used me because I was the on
e her black magic could work on.” 

His eyes were black and terrifying
, but he was wrong.

“Then why would she make sure you returned to the sword? She knew you weren’t going to give it to Arthur.” He rolled his eyes at me
, but there was no argument to be made.

“She didn’t need you to find it, so wouldn’t she have kept the emerald and just left you wherever you ended up?”

He clenched is fist as the muscles in his jaw physically tensed. “I have
nothing
to do with this,” he growled.

             
“You said so yourself, it would have been easier to just give Arthur the sword. It’s the same reason Theol wanted to take you to Cadvic’s, and the same reason Bolvyn was waiting for you even after they had the sword. They
need
you! That’s why she wanted to make sure
you
had the emerald and that
you
returned to the sword!”

             
He chewed on his thumbnail, rancorous black eyes flashing, he shook his head. “No, Bolvyn was waiting to take the emerald,” he said stubbornly, “and now we know the emerald is what opened the vortex, not the bracelet. We are going back to where we were transported to send you home.”

             
“That’s not right,” I argued. “Otherwise she never would have put the emerald into the frame!”

             
He shook his head. “It matters not. We have the emerald and once you return with it, all will be lost to them.” 

             
I felt my heart drop, I wanted to argue but he was right; not only did it return me but it would keep Arthur safe, and Arthur was the one he loved, not me. I tried to not look upset, but he read my face like a book and his expression softened into pity. I lowered my eyes, not brave enough to look up to his face.

             
“You should never have been here, Katarina,” he said softly. 

             
I kept my eyes down; too vulnerable to look up, too afraid I would tear up at what I saw. “But you were bound to me… I think I was supposed to be here…” I said quietly.

             
“No, Katarina. I was bound to the bracelet.” The words cut deep. “It could have been anyone who freed me.”

             
But it wasn’t anyone, was it? No, it was
me
. For nearly a thousand years nobody freed him. It was always suppose to be me, but I didn’t have the courage to say that. So I nodded my head instead and like the coward I was, I kept my eyes down, feeling dejected and unwanted. If he had any feelings for me, he would fight to keep me, but it had only been me floundering after him and it was time I stopped. I was stupid to think last night had meant anything, but I couldn’t help but to be swayed by the closeness of his body, the comfort of his touch, and his uninhibited confessions. I had to remind myself he didn’t feel the same as I felt. He had warned me numerous times to not fall for him and that he only felt indebted to me. These moments of kindness were out of pity, pity for putting me in danger, and I was finally beginning to understand why he hated the way his friends looked at him so much. 

He doubled over in laughter as he watched his red-haired giant of a friend hanging upside down from a trap in a tree.

The red-haired one
crossed his arms, growling deep in his throat. “Get me down from here!” he roared.

The mischievous young man
gripped his jaw to stop the pain from laughing so hard as he moved towards the base of the tree-trunk to cut the rope; he unsheathed his sword as his friend’s hazel eyes widened.

“Do not just slice it!” he shouted, fearful of the fall
, but his friend grinned wickedly, pulling the sword back dramatically for emphasis.

“No!” shouted the g
iant and right before his raven-haired friend could bring the sword across the rope, he was suddenly catapulted up, hanging upside down just as he was.

The red-
haired giant roared in laughter. “Not so smart are you!” he ridiculed but without a moment even between, his friend pushed off the base of the tree, swinging his sword in an arc across the rope that held the giant’s feet and down he went, unexpectedly, head first to the ground. Then he pulled his body up by the muscles of his stomach and quickly sliced through his own rope as he tumbled downward landing hard on his back.

They both groaned at
the impact; the red-haired young man having it worse than the dark-haired one. He rolled over. “You damn impatient swine!” he hollered, rubbing his knotted head. “You could have broken my neck!” But all his raven-haired friend did was laugh.

“I gave you your freedom; do not be in so sore a mood!”

“It is not my mood that is sore, you fool! This is the last time I go on any adventures with YOU,” he huffed out angrily.

A soft whimperi
ng sounded throughout the trees. “Shhh!” he said, turning his body and sitting up on his knees, as he listened carefully. “Do you hear that?” he asked.

The red-haired giant listened;
he heard it too. They slowly rose and moved closer to the sound, peaking over the tall brushes into a small flat landing. There with her foot bound in a trap was a beautiful dainty young girl. The two young men pulled out their swords, scoping the area for danger, but it seemed clear.

Her eyes widened as she saw them approach and she began to move frantically
, but her foot was caught in rope that squeezed too tightly to be released.

“Be still lady,” the raven-haired one commanded as he glanced around. The red-haired young man tilted his head gaping at her. She snarled at his expression
, but it only made him laugh.

“Free me and I will give a gift,” she promised as she looked around fearfully.

The red-haired giant boomed out a boorish laugh. “Any gift?” he asked, raising his eyebrow seductively. His raven-haired friend sighed in irritation, and in one swift motion, hacked through the trap that bound her.

“D
amn it all!” roared the giant. “It was supposed to be MY gift!”

The
raven-haired one pushed him. “Look at her forehead you fool. She is of the fairies. You want nothing to do with her, trust me.”

The girl stood, she was tiny and dressed in different kinds
of furs. “My name is Elenora,” she said, looking around her, on guard. “Be weary of the forest there are evils lurking about. They are searching for something.”

“Who?
And searching for what?” asked the red-haired giant, curiosity overcoming his disconcertment.

She turned her gaze to the two young men and suddenly her eyes widened at the sight of the raven-haired one. It was not because she s
uddenly noticed his beauty, but it was because she suddenly realized who he was: nephew of the Pendragon. He was the one The Lady of the Lake had warned her about; the one who could destroy them all. She thought of the gem safely hidden in the forest, wondering if it was what had lured him here. Vivian had been smart to remove it, and now she had to make sure to protect it.

She stared
into his emerald eyes. She should take his life and be done with this, but the thought of destroying something so beautiful seemed rather tragic. She would spare his life, as he did hers. “I will keep my promise,” she said as she reached into the pocket of her furs. Then she raised her tiny fist to her mouth and blew as hard as she could. A puff of white powder filled the small open landing, and the two young men fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for breaths. When it finally cleared she was gone, and they were left with only one desire: to return to Caerleon.

The land was beautiful with rolling green hills everywhere I looked, but it was easy to get lost because suddenly out of nowhere there would be mazes of trees that seemed endless, and it seemed that only a short distance off would be the shoreline. I had never seen so many different kinds of habitats so close to one another. Brendelon tried to explain the layout of the land; it was pretty much divided into northern and southern territories, but Arthur would be king of them all. At the southern half, Caerleon was at the northwestern point of a scalene-like triangular form, with Mordegrant’s castle and Cadvic’s castle as the two end points and William Cole’s estate somewhat in the center.

Nearly parallel to
William’s estate, but closer to the shoreline, was Mordegrant’s castle, which held good battle ground as it would be difficult for enemies to attack from the backside, which sat above high rocky cliffs and was lined up against the ocean. However, being that the Saxons were coming from ships, he was now in the most immediate danger. More inland and further south from Mordegrant’s was Cadvic’s castle, which I had yet to see, but the open field in which we were transported lay somewhere in the middle of the two castles, which were so close to each other, one kingdom could not be invaded by an enemy without the other feeling the repercussions—a notion that hadn’t gone unnoticed with Arthur’s knights. Brendelon had explained that King Lot had put Mordegrant into that fortress, which didn’t sit well with Cadvic at first, as he had been the only one to rule the surrounding lands after the death of Gorlois, and now they had to share everything, including taxes and the vegetation. He believed part of Cadvic’s motive was to remove Mordegrant from the land completely.              

             
I listened carefully as we rode south close to the shoreline, and the ocean breeze was comforting, but I wasn’t in the mood for talking. My heart felt as though it were ripped out of my chest and left somewhere in the dark forest. Brendelon seemed to take notice, trying to be friendlier than usual, but it meant nothing.

             
We were near the shoreline, and Mordegrant’s castle was in the distance, resting on high cliffs, and safe from the angry ocean waves that smacked against the jagged rock walls that defended the shore line. But suddenly, in one swift moment, Brendelon’s horse reared up, standing tall on his two hind legs. Brendelon clung to its mane holding on as the horse continued to rear. He yanked on the reins bringing it under control, patting his neck to calm him.

             
“What spooked him?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

             
He shrugged his shoulders as my mare began whining and trotting around in circles.

             
“Get off the horse, Katarina,” he commanded, dismounting his horse and walking slowly towards my mare.

             
I did as I was told, not wanting to be flung off if she reared up the way his horse had. He grabbed the reins bringing her to calm.

             
He looked around, features giving away his hesitance to move forward, and I didn’t blame him. He looked up towards a high cliff that blocked our view.

“Let us go up there to see if we can spot anything,” he said, grabbing my hand as he pulled me towards the dark gray rock. It was steep but we were able to climb up the cliff side
, and as we got closer to the top, he motioned for me to squat down as he peered over the top. “Look,” he said pointing in the distance. “It is the Black Army forming.”

I looked over the large, sharp boulder, seeing an endless line of black ants marchi
ng up the shoreline. “Where are the Saxon ships?”

He shook his head. “D
elayed, I suppose.” But before I could look any longer at the terrifying forces rallying up, he was pulling me away. “Come on,” he said brusquely, backing down the cliff side. I followed him careful with my steps, keeping my eyes focused on the loose rocks in front of me when I almost slammed right into him. I heard him curse under his breath as he ducked behind a large boulder and pulled me close to his side.

“What?” I whispered but all he gave me was a deadly look and put one finger up to his lips. I listened carefully.

“They are around here somewhere,” a voice grunted.

“Yes, search the surrounding areas; they could not have gotten far on foot.”

“Are you sure it is him?” another voice questioned.

“It has to be,” replied the first. 

He pointed upward, and I carefully made my way back to the top of the cliffs careful to stay hidden between the long protruding boulders. We crossed over onto the side that faced the ocean and worked our way across the rocky terrain back north, far away from the Black army as we could. He moved slower than I am sure he would have wanted, but he was extra cautious with me, one slip would surely mean death. We got closer to a small flat area, where he pulled me into a crevice allowing a moment of rest.

He peeped around the corner, checking to see if anyone was on our tails then turned to
me with hard cold serious eyes. “Promise me that no matter what happens you will run, Katarina. Do not stay behind with me.”

“What? No,” I whim
pered, afraid to be alone again. “I can’t. Please, I can’t.”

He grabbed m
y face between his hands. “Promise me, Katarina! The things they would do to you are unspeakable. Promise me you will run.”

I thought of Theol and shuddered
, but it was nothing to the thought of losing him, my heart twisted. “But what about you?” I moaned.

“They will not hurt me.” H
e gave me a beseeching look. “Promise me, Katarina.”

I nodded;
weak against his pleading. He searched my eyes. “I promise,” I added to comfort him, but I felt sick.

He pointed.
“Stay near the coast and head north. Stay on the main roads, if you hear anyone come, hide in the brushes. Get back to Caerleon as quickly and safely as you can. Do not go south; Mordegrant’s castle will be under siege.”

I nodded and at that same moment I heard a large rock crash to the ground. He looked back out from the crevice. He cursed under his breath
again, so I tilted my body to look around him, and I saw up above the same dark bird soaring above us.

“The raven,” I whispered. He whipped around to face me eyes wide and confused.

“Raven?” he questioned and suddenly above him was a large dark shadow, by reflex I crouched down, covering my head. He hovered his body to cover mine, pushing me up against the rock, but I could see around him, and it wasn’t the raven that had come to pay us a visit. It was a huge dragon with dark burnt amber scales and glowing red eyes; it was at least five times bigger than the one in the warehouse.

“There’s a…a—” I stammered, fearfully.

“Shhhh,” he hissed. “Do not move,” he whispered slowly, staying very still, but there was no reason for it because I was positive the beast already saw us. I shook my head, and his eyes went slightly wide as he carefully looked over his shoulder, and in that same instant the dragon wheeled its body around, and swung its huge pointed tail right into the cliffs. He ducked down covering me with his body as large rocks crumbled down. The dragon dove down, barely touching the water as it turned its body around into a back loop.

“We are going to have to jump,” he yelled.

I stood outside on the cliff watching the waves crash mercilessly against the rocks that reared their ugly heads out of the ocean. “What!” I exclaimed, watching the hungry waves swallow up the stationary beasts. “We’ll die!”

The dragon came back around, smashing its tail into the cliffs again as it scr
eeched menacingly, flapping its ferocious wings upward.

“We will die if we stay here,” he said, a little too calmly. He pulled off the heavy shoulder plates and chainmail from his body.
“Dragons do not see well, they hunt by sound and smell, our best chance is the sea.”

“Maybe it won’t hurt us?” I questioned pathetically.

“They are shadows of the dark ones,” he said, as he pulled off the gray padded shirt, only donning the white linen shirt and metal forearm guards. “It means to destroy us.” The loud ruckus sounded behind us as more of the rocks crashed down the slope. He looked upwards and I followed his gaze. The dragon was getting closer. He threw the chainmail as far as he could to our right and as it smashed loudly against the rocks, the dragon—lured by the bait, swooped down to the sound. He lowered his brilliant green eyes, keeping them intently locked into mine as he held out his hand. “Trust me!” His words were my undoing; I placed my delicate hand into his big bear paw and he leapt, pulling me along with him.