Knight of Darkness (18 page)

After a time, he’d laid his queen down beside her beloved husband and looked at the parchment he held. All he had to do was open it and he would know the most valuable secret in all the world. He could claim the grail and use its powers for himself.

He could make everyone who’d ever insulted or abused him pay…

And by doing so, he would disgrace the lives of the only two people who’d ever meant anything to him. It would invalidate the sacrifices Arthur and Guinevere had made.

So he’d tucked the parchment into his pouch and taken Guinevere’s body to her favorite place. The hill in Cornwall where she’d played as a girl.

When he was a boy serving in Arthur’s house, she’d told him of this place and of the happiness she’d shared there with her sisters. If she couldn’t be buried beside Arthur because of the cruelty of others, then he could think of no better place for her to rest.

He didn’t use his magick to dig her grave. He’d done it by the sweat of his brow to honor a decent and kind woman who had given everything she had to save her people. It wasn’t until he’d finished burying her that he happened to look up at
the oak tree that shaded her grave. There in the bark was an old jagged carving that had been distorted by the years.

Forever Guinvere’s Arthur.

Those words had burned in his mind as he’d traced the runic letters while pain washed through him. He would never in his lifetime know the love the two of them shared. He would never even begin to comprehend it.

His heart broken, he’d returned to Avalon then and handed over the scroll, unread. Merlin had stared at him in wonder. Like him, she was new to her role and uncertain.

But there in the first hours of the day, she’d proclaimed him to be the first of the grail knights who would carry one of the sacred clues.

Varian had tried to argue. “I can’t do this, Merlin. I’m not—”

“You are of the bloodline. You might be born of Narishka, but you are also Lancelot’s son. I can think of no better protector than one with your strength and power.”

“I didn’t even fight with Arthur.”

“But you didn’t fight against him either. Half of anyone’s strength is knowing one’s limitations and weaknesses. You chose not to put yourself in a situation where you would be tempted to evil.”

He’d shaken his head. “I should have been strong enough to fight.”

“And you will be one day soon, Varian. That is why I’ve chosen you.”

Varian had bound himself to her then. To be her tool. To be the one who would carry out her orders without question and to use his connection to his mother to find the traitors who would betray Merlin and the others.

He’d spent centuries wondering if he’d chosen correctly that day. He knew full well what would happen should his mother or Morgen ever learn of the symbol he bore in secret.

Now his mother’s servant most likely knew the truth of him. Merewyn had already told him that she would bleed for nothing. That she would sacrifice anything for her freedom.

She would sell him out without a single thought.

Kill her.

It would be the safest course of action. It would save both him and the others.

Gripping the dagger in a tight fist, Varian made his way slowly back to camp.

Merewyn was doing her best to feign sleep when she felt
Varian standing over her. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel his sharp, penetrating stare like a tangible touch. The scent of leather and man filled her senses, overwhelming her with the power of his presence.

What was he going to do?

Would he kill her?

Her heartbeat sped up as her panic rose. Refusing to be a coward and allow him to strike while she lay there, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. If he intended to kill her, then she wanted to see the deathblow coming. The darkness cast his entire face in shadows so that she had no clue to his mood or thoughts. He stood over her like a giant dark malevolent specter. The only thing she could see clearly was the dagger he held in a tight fist at his side.

He held it like a man bent on slaughter…

Her mouth dry, she licked her lips, waiting for him to lunge at her with the weapon.

When he moved, she would have screamed but for the fact that fear lodged itself in her throat and kept her soundless.

And before she could move, he pulled the cloak from his shoulders and laid it out over her. The weight and warmth of the black leather banished the chills on her body as he laid himself down by her side. His spicy scent clung to the material, making her heart pound even more.

He placed the dagger and his sword on the ground beside him, with his hand resting on the sword’s hilt.

Did he know she’d seen him while he’d bathed? If he did, he gave no clue.

“Good night, Merewyn.”

Still unsure if he intended to strike her or not, she whispered her reply. “Good night.”

To her complete shock, he closed his eyes. Bemused by his actions, she crept closer to see if he were merely toying with her before he struck. It was something his mother would have done. Narishka loved to lull her victims into a feeling of comfort before she viciously cut them down. The evil Adoni lived to see the look of shock on her victims’ faces before they died at her feet. Merewyn had no intention of giving Varian that satisfaction if such a thing was his intent.

She snuggled a bit closer.

Opening his eyes, he pinned her with a suspicious glare.

“It’s cold,” she said truthfully. “I was thinking we should share your cloak so as not to give you a chill. After all, your hair is soaking wet.”

Varian frowned at her words. Truthfully, he had enough magick to summon another cloak. But before he could tell her that, she scooted over to him and covered their bodies with the heavy leather.

Then she did the strangest thing of all.

She laid her head on his shoulder and settled down to sleep.

He couldn’t move as he felt her there, like a lover, by his side, with her hand resting gently at his ribs. The scent of heather was strong from her hair, and her soft breath tickled the skin of his neck. He’d never lain with a woman like this. Never trusted anyone enough to sleep beside him.

And she knew his secret…

If he were smart, he’d shove her away from him and rid himself of her threat, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Trust was an alien concept in his life. Yet what choice did he have at present? They were tied together until the end of this journey. Not to mention that there was no one for her to tell his secret to here except for Blaise, who also shared his cursed status…

With no one else around for her to tell about his mark, he should be safe for the time being.

Even so, he slid the dagger beneath his thigh so
that she couldn’t reach it without his knowledge. Then he moved his hand to his sword.

Just in case.

After a few minutes, he felt her relax against him as she fell asleep. He didn’t move; hell, he barely breathed for several seconds as he waited for her to open her eyes and betray him.

She didn’t. She merely slept as if all were right in the world.

Could it be she truly intended no malice toward him?

She shifted in her sleep, raising one leg to rest over his thighs as her arm spread out over his chest, and in that instant he realized that her malice on him was far more insidious.

She was going to kill him with lust.

Desire speared him sharply at her actions. The weight of her body, combined with the peaceful look on her beautiful face, was unbearable.

Now how the hell was he supposed to sleep like this?

Unable to take it, he rolled to his side, away from her.

She snuggled up against his spine, spooning her body to his. Yeah, good move. Now all he could feel were her breasts against his back and her thighs against his buttocks. Even worse, her breath was falling against the nape of his neck, sending heat straight to his groin.

Unable to stand it, he pressed his hand to his cock in an effort to alleviate some of the pain. He
considered taking matters into his own hand, but then decided against it. He wasn’t some callow youth who needed to masturbate in bed. He was a man full grown, and the last thing he wanted was to have Blaise and the others wake up and know what he’d done. Not to mention he didn’t feel like taking another bath in the freezing river.

No, he could control himself.

He raised his leg to get more comfortable. At least that had been his plan, but when her hand fell down to touch the skin that was bared by his jerkin riding up, he learned what true torture was. All he could think of was having that small, delicate hand cupping the part of him that was desperate for her.

Grinding his teeth, he could already feel himself sliding slowly between her fingers. Feel her cupping his sac as he feasted on her breasts…

Stop it!

He had to put it out of his mind. He was acting like one of the sex-starved triplets. If he didn’t get control soon, he’d toss her over his shoulder and run off with her himself.

Then again, given how long the triplets had gone without sex, he honestly felt sorry for them. If they were in as much pain as he was at present, it was a wonder they hadn’t killed themselves.

“
Varian?
”

He cringed at the sound of his mother’s voice in his head and knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep the rest of the night. Asleep, he was weak against
her, and she might be able to manipulate his subconscious into telling her what they had planned or where they were.

Resigned to the fact that his life was seriously sucking at the moment, he rolled again to his back. Merewyn’s hand dipped to just below his waistband to touch the tender spot on his lower abdomen. Sucking his breath in between his teeth, he was grateful she was asleep. Little did she know that if she were awake and touched him there, he’d have no resistance to her.

Not that he had much as it was.

Especially now that she knew about his mark. The fact that she might see it while they were having sex was no longer a deterrent. In fact, he held a delectable image right now of her nibbling said mark…

He clenched his teeth at the thought.

Merlin had been a fool to choose him as a grail knight. He might yet prove his father right by switching his allegiance to the Adoni. Morgen would reward him well for such a thing, and he knew it.

So long as he bore that mark, he’d be able to control and channel the power of the grail. He could unleash a magick so raw that no one would be able to stand in her way or his. It was why he didn’t want to know the names of the other knights and why he hadn’t looked at the clues that could lead him to where Guinevere had hidden it. He didn’t want the temptation of betraying them. He
was already afraid of what he might do one day should Bors and the others anger him past his control.

And yet as he lay here with Merewyn snuggled against him, he couldn’t imagine ever betraying people like her. They were the ones who would suffer most if he turned. They had no power to negotiate. Nothing Morgen could make use of. They would simply be fodder or pawns for her to abuse and kill for no other reason than she was having a bad hair day.

He felt his eyelids getting heavy. Blinking them open, he reminded himself that he couldn’t go to sleep. He couldn’t afford to give his mother anything she could use against them.

Merewyn came awake slowly to find herself incredibly warm. She smelled the scent of leather and pleasant musk…Varian. It was so comforting that it was all she could do not to burrow her nose against his neck and just inhale him. As it was, she felt the heat of his body, the strength of him pressed against her. But what startled her was the fact that her hand rested against his naked skin. She could feel the short, crisp hairs that ran from his navel down to a thicker pelt where her fingers rested.

Slitting her eyes open, she realized he was still asleep, facing her while her left leg was buried between both of his. Her head was cushioned against his shoulder, and his cloak still covered them both.
Her heart pounded at their intimate position. Every inch of her was pressed up against him, with her face literally buried against his neck.

There was no way to pull away without waking him. Bracing herself, she moved back as slowly as possible.

Just as she thought, he woke up immediately. She froze the instant those green eyes met hers.

“Sorry to wake you,” she whispered.

He blinked as if he didn’t understand her. And before she could think to remove her leg from his, she felt him harden against her thigh. Heat scalded her face.

But he didn’t seem to feel any embarrassment. Instead, he closed his eyes and nuzzled her gently before he withdrew from her. Merewyn was baffled by that. For a man who didn’t want to sleep with her, he was strangely tender.

He stretched languidly. “I can’t believe I slept.” There was an odd note in his voice that she didn’t understand, but it sounded like he thought sleeping was a mistake.

She tried her best not to notice the way his jerkin pulled against his body, emphasizing the taut muscles that flexed as he moved. It was a most tempting sight he made lying there, and it made her wonder what it would be like to lick that inviting skin the way Narishka did her lovers.

What would he taste like?

Trying to distract herself, she cleared her throat
and went back to the topic at hand. “You were tired.”

Before he could respond, she heard the others stirring awake.

Merewyn got up immediately, before any of them saw the way she and Varian were cuddled, and straightened her gown. She frowned as she looked down at the hem. Had the dress stretched out of shape? It appeared to be longer than it’d been before.

It was as if she’d shrunk during the night…

At that thought, a wave of icy trepidation went through her as she turned toward Varian, who was standing beside her.

“Do I…?” The words caught on her tongue as fear seized her completely. Please, please don’t let her be right in this.

“Do you what?”

“Am I…” She had to force the word out of her paranoid throat. “Normal?”

He frowned at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Should you not be?”

Merewyn placed her hands over her face, trying to see if Narishka had turned her back into the ogress. To her relief, her skin was still smooth. There were no scars, no bulbous lips. Her face seemed to be as it was.

She gave a nervous laugh. “I must be imagining things. Sorry.”

He picked his cloak up from the ground and
fastened it back around his neck by a silver dragon clip. “No need to apologize.”

Still she had a bad feeling, as if something about her was different. As if Narishka was somehow here with them. Her mistress’s presence hung in the air like a bitter-smelling pall and it made the hair on the back of her neck rise. She continually looked about, half-expecting to find Narishka or one of her minions hiding to spy on them.

The group was mostly silent as they packed up camp, then ate a bit of meat to break their fast.

Beau seemed to be a tad taller, and his arms were a bit more formed as he clung to Merewyn’s side while she ate in silence. The strangest thing was that he seemed to be smacking his lips…only he didn’t have lips yet.

Once they were ready to resume their trek, Derrick audibly gulped. “I guess it’s time to cross the bridge.”

Erik chittered nervously before he ran up Merrick’s arm and hid his small head under his brother’s collar.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “What is the deal with the damn bridge?” He exchanged a bemused look with Varian. “I mean really, how scary can it be?”

“You’ll see,” Merrick said, leading them north once more.

“We’ll see,” Varian mocked in a feigned spooky tone.

Merewyn shoved playfully at him for picking on the triplets that way.

But that playfulness died a short time later when they approached the old wooden bridge that stretched over a fiery pit—one made of burning dragon scales that shimmered like iridescent jewels below them. Every so often one of the scales would launch itself into the air, then burst into flames. The bursting was bad enough, but the real danger in dragon scales came from the fact that they were razor-sharp and could carve through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter.

Even so, Varian and Blaise didn’t seem to notice the pit at all. It was the bridge that made them pale drastically.

“What?” she asked the men, worried that they knew something she didn’t.

They didn’t respond to her.

“How is this here?” Varian asked Derrick, his voice low and filled with awe. It was obvious the bridge held some major significance to him that she was unaware of.

Derrick shrugged. “We don’t know. It was here when we arrived and has been here ever since.”

Merewyn scowled at Varan’s dire tone. “What is it?”

“Slaughter Bridge.”

It still meant nothing to her. “Should I know that?”

Blaise let out a deep breath before he answered. “It’s where Arthur and Mordred fought their last battle.”

Merrick nodded. “Arthur’s blood marks it still.
And we have to cross it to get to Merlin’s. There’s no other way into the valley proper.”

Looking back at the old wooden-and-stone bridge that arced gracefully over the river of fire, Merewyn swallowed as a chill went down her spine. She could only imagine what must be going through Blaise’s and Varian’s minds as they stood before the very thing that had brought all of them to this point.