Believe (12 page)

Arthur cast him an impatient look. “’Tis no secret. The table is round—”

“I know this one.” She grinned at the king. “It’s round so that there’s no head or foot, no one is above or below anyone else. Everybody who sits here sits as an equal.”

Arthur’s brows pulled together and he stared at her. “What an interesting concept. I hadn’t thought of that. I quite like the idea.”

“Thanks.” Pleasure flushed through her.

“Very good indeed. I shall have to use that.” Wry amusement glittered in his eye. “In truth, my lady, the table is round because a king, above all men, needs to be able to see the faces and the eyes of those seeking to give him counsel to know the veracity of their words and the intention in their hearts.”

“Oh. Right.” A vague feeling of disappointment touched her. The common-sense reason for the shape of the most famous table in history wasn’t nearly as impressive as the myth.

Arthur dismissed the servant with a nod and waited until he left, the door thudding shut behind him. The king stood a bit taller than she’d expected with a noble bearing that left no doubt this was someone special. You could see it in his eyes, clear and as crystal blue as the water of a mountain lake. And the man practically reeked of charisma. He’d make one hell of a politician. Americans would elect him president on the basis of his charm alone. Or maybe on just the square set of his jaw.

“Tessa,” Merlin growled.

“Sorry.” She smiled in apology. This was not the time to consider the bizarre implications of this particular President Arthur.

Arthur drew a deep breath. “Galahad, my boy, I know this is not as you envisioned it.”

“Sire.” Galahad stepped forward. “I cannot take a woman with me. ’Twould be folly of the highest order.”

“Exactly what I said when Merlin first approached me with this.” Arthur glanced at the magician. “Merlin?”

Merlin shook his head. “It cannot be helped. Galahad, I see things others can only dream of. I know much of what the fates have in store for all of us. Do not doubt me when I say without Lady Tessa by your side, you cannot be successful.”

“I do not believe that!”

“You must believe,” Merlin said sharply.

“And you must succeed.” Arthur paced the room. “When last I sent knights, many years ago, to find the Grail, ’twas not much more serious than a lark. An adventure eagerly sought after by men of courage. Oh certainly, it cost many their lives but ’tis a hard, cruel world beyond the gates of Camelot. I have to admit, I rather envied them their demise coming as it did in the pursuit of the most honorable of quests.

“Now, all is different.” The king paused as if saying the words out loud gave them a reality he preferred not to face. “The country is at a crossroads, Galahad. Unrest is brewing in the land. Mordred has as much as admitted his hand in it.”

“But you had him here in your grasp, sire.” Galahad’s voice rang with disbelief. “Yet you let him go free.”

“He is the heir to this kingdom and to all I hold dear.” Arthur shook his head. “His words were at once threatening and vague. As yet, I have no real proof. And while he can stir up the caldron of dissent, I doubt he has enough followers to unseat me.”

“Your Majesty.” Galahad’s jaw clenched. “Say but the word and I would gladly lead your army against him.”

“No. He is still my son.” A note of anguish, quiet and intense, underlaid the simple statement. Tessa’s heart twisted for the pain of a king and a father. Arthur
heaved a resigned sigh. “Besides, ’tis no longer enough. This land and its people have always put a great deal of trust in what cannot be seen. Magic, prophecy and the like. Once, I alone was able to give them something to believe in but it appears with familiarity grows dissatisfaction.”

His gaze drifted up to linger on the tapestry. He spoke as much to himself as to them. “All I ever wanted was peace and prosperity. A good life for all in a good land. And it has been thus for a very long time. Perhaps ’tis only in the next world where such things last forever.”

Arthur rubbed his temple in a gesture of weariness then raised his chin, his voice brisk. “The people need a cause to pull their hearts together, to forge us once again into a country proud and strong. There is no cause more powerful than the quest for the Grail. Although the legend decreeing whosoever finds the Grail shall become its guardian has yet to be tested, should it prove true, the mere knowledge of your success,” he glanced at Merlin, “and I assume we shall receive such confirmation?”

The magician nodded.

“The news of your accomplishment will instill pride in every man, woman and child and unify the country once again. And even Mordred’s influence will be for naught.”

“I vow to you, sire, I will not fail.” Galahad’s eyes burned with fervor.

“And what of you, Lady Tessa?” Arthur raised a regal brow. “Do you give your promise as well?”

Three sets of eyes pinned her. What would happen if she said no right here in front of the king? Arthur
seemed like a good guy. Given chivalry and all that, he’d never make her do something this dangerous if she didn’t want to. Merlin’s eyes narrowed. Right. She’d be a toad or dinosaur lunch faster than you could whistle the theme to
The Twilight Zone
. She smiled weakly. “I’m in.”

Galahad’s jaw clenched as if he’d hoped she’d decline.

“Excellent.” Merlin beamed.

“Thank you, my dear,” Arthur’s voice was solemn. He stepped toward her, took her hand and raised it to his lips. His gaze met hers and her breath caught at the look of regret in his eye. The man knew exactly what he was asking of them and she suspected he wished wholeheartedly he didn’t have to. “God be with you, my lady. I will pray for your success and the safety of your journey.”

“Thank you.” She turned to Merlin. “Now that everything’s out in the open, I have a few more questions. First of all, what is this riddle business?”

“’Tis a guide, to lead you to the Grail,” Merlin said.

“Don’t give me that,” she said with exasperation. “It’s a riddle. A lousy, confusing riddle. I hate riddles and I don’t want to bet my life on figuring one out.”

Arthur smiled in a wry manner. “Merlin, are you certain of this?”

Merlin nodded. “Quite, sire.”

“And she will not drive him mad in the bargain?”

Merlin spread his hands in an exaggerated gesture of resignation. “One of many challenges that lie ahead for them both.”

“Excuse me?” Tessa glared with indignation.

A skeptical chuckle slipped from the king’s lips.
“Very well. As always, I defer to your counsel.” The king strode toward the door. “Now, I have other matters to attend to, therefore I shall take my leave. You have much to discuss, plans to make and it would be best if it were begun without delay.”

He pulled open the door, then stopped and turned to Tessa. “’Tis not difficult to see Merlin was right about you. You have a great deal of courage, my lady, although I suspect you do not know it yet. And while I am certain he does not know it yet, Galahad is indeed a lucky man. I leave him in your care.”

Her throat tightened. “I’ll do my best.”

“As for you, Galahad, ’tis a sad truth but I fear we will not meet in this world again. I shall miss you, my boy.” Arthur considered him silently. “And I envy you. Were it possible, I would go in your place. But my duty lies here. If you fail, I am all that remains between the people and turmoil. ’Tis little enough to offer them but ’tis all I have.”

“I beg to differ, Your Majesty.” Admiration shone in the younger man’s eyes. “’Tis a great deal.”

Arthur acknowledged the compliment with a terse nod and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Wow,” Tessa breathed, “now that’s a king.”

“I have always thought so.” A note of sorrow sounded in Merlin’s voice.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” she said softly.

“Knows what?” Galahad glanced from Tessa to Merlin.

Merlin nodded. “He suspects.”

Understanding, abrupt and complete, surged through her. “And nothing we do will change that, will it?”

“Change what?” Galahad snapped.

The wizard sighed. “Only the details can change. The overall picture remains the same.”

“What remains?” Galahad’s voice rose.

She widened her eyes and stared at him. “Holy shi—” Tessa’s gaze snapped to Merlin’s. “He didn’t make it, did he? In real life, the first time this little story played out, he failed, didn’t he? Why didn’t I realize this before?” She smacked her hand to her forehead. “It makes perfect sense.”

“Nothing makes sense to me!” Galahad’s bellow filled the room.

Tessa ignored him. “There are so many little things here that don’t mesh with the legend. This is one of them, isn’t it?”

“You are astute,” Merlin said calmly.

“What legend?” Galahad roared.

“Would you do something about him? That between one second and the next thing?” Tessa waved an impatient hand at the knight. “Freeze-frame him.”

“That’s probably best.”

Galahad froze as if a pause button had just been pushed. The man made a great-looking statue.

“That’s a handy trick,” Tessa said with admiration.

“I enjoy it.” Merlin’s manner was casual. “I could teach it to you, if you’d like.”

“Really?” She glanced at Galahad. “You think I could do that?”

“Perhaps.”

“That would be great.” Tessa grinned. “I could just see a couple of people I know frozen in time while I rearranged furniture and strategically positioned buckets of water and—”

Merlin raised a brow.

“—and we can discuss it later,” she said quickly. “When this is wrapped up. Right now, we have to talk.”

At once her father’s recliner and its mate appeared in the room. “Nice touch but I’m not in the mood to be comfortable.”

“Your loss.” The recliners disappeared. “I rather think you should enjoy any modicum of comfort available.” Merlin grinned wickedly. “While you still can.”

“I want to know what really happened. I know the legend. Now, I want the truth.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. I need to know what to expect.”

“I believe I have already explained that what was true once may not necessarily be so again.”

“I know, I know.” Impatience edged her voice. “You said it before. Chance and probability. The spinning wheel and all that.”

“The outcome may well change with every spin of the wheel.”

“But you said nothing could change Arthur’s fate.”

“Arthur’s fate is the fate of his country. The how and the why can change but not the end result.”

“And Galahad?” She chose her words carefully, trying to work out the convoluted idea of what portions of history could change and what couldn’t. “He’s small potatoes in all this, isn’t he? Even if he succeeds this time, it won’t really matter will it? It won’t make a bit of difference?”

Merlin’s lips compressed into a grim line. His voice was low and filled with regret. “No.”

“Look. I know that what happened before doesn’t
have to happen again but it is possible, right? You can already see that Guinevere and Lancelot have something going.”

“Not as of yet.”

“Oh, come on. Maybe it hasn’t gotten to the point of an actual affair but anybody with an ounce of insight can see there’s a definite spark between them. It seems to me like a classic case of a busy husband, a wife left alone too much and a best friend.”

Merlin shook his head. “The frailty of man’s own makeup will always spell his ruin.”

“No kidding.” The last thing she wanted was to get into a debate about the deficiencies of mankind, especially when it came to sex. “So history, their history, Galahad’s can repeat itself exactly, can’t it?”

“Correct.”

“Don’t you think I need to know what mistakes he made? What problems he ran into?” Merlin seemed to consider her words and she pressed her point. “How can it hurt? I already agreed to go with him. I promised. I gave my word.”

Merlin eyed her as if debating how much to reveal.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” A cold hand squeezed her heart. “He was killed, wasn’t he? He never found the Grail because he died, didn’t he?”

“All men die, Tessa, sooner or later. Some breathe their last in service to king and country and some pass quietly to the next world in their beds, their last thoughts filled with the sum total of their lives. Satisfaction or self-loathing. Contentment or bitterness.” Merlin paused. “Galahad lived a very long life.”

“Thank God.” Relief washed through her and she exhaled a long breath. “I thought for sure—”

“He died an old man, Tessa, alone and filled with self-loathing.” The wizard stopped for a moment as if gathering unpleasant memories. “Britain was in disarray, Arthur and Lancelot long dead, the world Galahad cherished fading to a distant memory. Forgotten were the triumphs of his youth. He could not put his failure to find the Grail to rest and spent the last years of his life wondering if he had done this differently or that better, would it have made a difference. In many ways he felt responsible for the end of it all.”

Tessa gazed at Galahad, frozen in his anger. Even motionless he was a powerful figure exuding strength and confidence. The idea of him spending his last days as a broken old man was more than she could bear. “There’s a chance we won’t find it, isn’t there?”

“A very good chance.”

She glanced at the wizard. “Does it even exist?”

“You must believe, my dear.”

She stepped closer to Galahad’s suspended figure and stared. She’d never met a man like this and wondered if anyone comparable had lived before or since. Probably not. He was one of a kind. “I’ve always had a hard time believing in anything you can’t see or touch. I’ve always needed proof to believe.”

“I know.” Merlin sighed. “It’s one of your more annoying qualities. However, it’s quite entertaining to watch you change your mind.”

She wanted to reach up and run her hand along the side of his face. Just to make certain he was real, of course. Not out of any weird need to touch him. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

Merlin chuckled. “You did not believe in any of this
before we met. Now, you do. There is much more you have to learn about belief and faith and what is and isn’t real before your days here are finished.”