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I turned to Lancelet.
My friend’s eyes were focused on the blade in my hand. The gleaming heat was already dying down.
“What... was that?”
I opened my mouth to start to explain, but a scream coming from the gap in the door cut me off.
“They’re under attack!” Lancelet moved forward as if she would pass me.
But I grasped her by the arm, holding her in place. “If we go in there, will you be all right?”
She met my gaze, her blue eyes filled with shame. “I froze.”
“Yes. Will it happen again?”
“They need us.” The words were a strained whisper.
“Guinevere needs you,” I said firmly. “Will you freeze or will you fight for her?”
The words were cruel, but they did the trick.
Lancelet pulled out of my grip and squared her shoulders. “I’ll fight. Let me go. I have to go to her.”
I nodded tersely. “Carefully, then.”
We pulled the door open, peering inside the temple corridor from our shadowy recess.
A long hall stretched out before us. Reliefs along the walls depicted scenes of peace and worship before the Three. But now, the tranquility of the temple had fallen into turmoil.
Torches that usually lined the corridor walls had been extinguished or knocked to the ground. The sputtering flames cast uncanny light.
The air was filled with the acrid scent of smoke and burning wood. Somewhere within the sanctuary, fires raged.
Off in the distance came the jarring sounds of battle. A clash of weapons. Frantic cries.
Just ahead of us, amidst the flickering torches, lay the fallen bodies of acolytes, priests, and priestesses sprawled across the cold, stone floor. Their tattered robes, symbols of purity and devotion, were now stained with blood and dirt.
I swallowed hard, filled with a sense of foreboding. I had not sheathed my rapier. Lancelet seemed to have had the same thought. Her daggers remained in her palms. I watched as she loosened her grip then tightened it again. Were her palms as clammy as mine? Quickly, I wiped mine on my cloak.
A clattering sound came from down the hall. A young priestess, her once-pristine white robes now torn, ran into the corridor, terror written across her face. She scanned the hall, obviously looking for shelter. Then her eyes took in the sight of her fallen friends. Before I could even call out to her, she darted away, disappearing back into the depths of the temple with a smothered scream and a sob.
“We need to find Merlin,” I said aloud. I stepped out into the corridor.
“Guinevere.” Lancelet’s jaw was clenched.
“Her, too. Did they have a plan for this?”
She swallowed. “For the temple to be attacked by the king?”
I ground my teeth. There was no point in saying this wasn’t Arthur’s doing.
Who else would stoop to murdering innocent devotees? Who else would commit murder in the Three’s own house, staining their walls with blood?
At least those who had fallen here had died believing they were going to the goddesses’ embrace.
We moved forward into the corridor, quickly checking each fallen figure on the floor for signs of life before moving on. It was a grisly task. But even worse would have been leaving someone behind to slowly die alone.
We found no survivors. Not until we reached the end of the hall, turned a corner, and began to approach one of the courtyard gardens.
