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“As shall we,” Niva said, her voice resembling reeds brushing on each other in the wind. It was a whisper of a thousand sounds, not one. “We shall see him brought to justice.”
Smiling, Lancelot bowed.
“We rally at the keep in five days. We will march upon him at dawn.”
* * *
“I thought I wasn’t allowed out of my room.” Gwen wasn’t sure why she was giving Mordred shit for asking her to go on a walk with him. She should be thankful to get out of the keep, and to give the bored-ass dog a chance to stretch his long legs and go for a run.
Mordred was silent for a long moment. “I thought perhaps you should understand the seriousness of what is about to occur.”
Oh, great. Just great. She was in for a guilt trip. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to ignore the presence of the three-foot chain that connected her wrists. It was another fantastic reminder of the trouble she had gotten herself into.
“There will be death. It is inevitable in war,” he explained, as they walked from the keep out into the open area before the walls.
She blinked. It looked a lot different than the last time she had seen it. Giant, trebuchet-looking things were set up and aimed out at the field. Guards were carrying large, spiked spheres made of rusted iron in buckets—clearly what the trebuchets were meant to launch. She cringed, picturing the spiked wrecking balls coming down on some poor elemental. As they were all vulnerable to iron, she figured it would be instant death, regardless of how big they were or what they were made of.
It was horrifying to think about.
The ramparts were being set up with spears and cauldrons. Gwen furrowed her brow. They looked more like forges with the way they were set up. “What’re the cauldrons for?”
“Molten iron. If we are beaten back to the walls, and the attackers attempt to climb them, my soldiers will dump the iron on them.” Mordred’s tone was flat and matter-of-fact. As if nothing about that disgusting image was out of the ordinary.
“Holy shit.”
“You have never seen war, firefly.” He began to walk up the stairs to the ramparts. “I am simply trying to prepare you for what you may witness.”
Following, Gwen had to step around soldiers and guards who were setting up, readying for a siege that may or may not come any day. “You’re going to let me out?”
“No. But should the keep fall—should I be killed—you will need to defend yourself.” Again, Mordred was talking about dying like it was no big deal.
“I…I really don’t want you to die, Mordred.” She reached out and took his elbow, perpetually covered in the armor he wore up to his shoulders. “You know that, right?”
“Yes. I do.” He smiled down at her, a bit mournfully. “Yet you are not on my side either.”
“I—” She wanted to say that she was. She really did. But she couldn’t say it with a straight face when she was still hiding the truth of her connection to Grinn. “I don’t want anybody to die.” That much was true. Even for as much as Grinn was a total ass to her, she didn’t think he deserved to be executed over it.
“You are young. Naive. You come from a world that has been spared this level of destruction and mayhem.” He stroked a clawed gauntlet over her hair gently. “I wish I could spare you the reality of our situation, but I cannot. You are protecting those who will, in short order, attempt to kill me. My soldiers will certainly fall in battle, their magic and their souls shattered. My knights are at risk—some may die, but they all will if I fall. And as for me, well. I am obviously their target.” He shook his head. “I will fight upon the front lines in hopes of minimizing the risk to you and those within the keep.”
Gwen knew better than to try to argue with him. She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Tears were threatening to build. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”
“No, firefly. It is not your fault.” He brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. “This has been inevitable, I suppose. The Crystal would not have lasted forever, and when it finally broke apart, the reckoning for my actions would come. The others are not likely to see the sense in my choices. Some may—but enough will rise against me to see me undone. You may have been the catalyst for these events, but they were bound to come in time.”
That didn’t make her feel better in the slightest. Looking out at the field, she tried to picture it filled with bodies, and mud, and blood.
As if knowing what she was doing, he stepped in closer and rested his clawed hand on her shoulder. “It is not the sight that will haunt you, firefly. It is the sound that will linger with you.”
“You’re not making me feel any better.”
“It was not my intention to upset you. My intention was to prepare you.”
She laughed weakly and rested her forehead against his chest. He was wearing a black linen shirt, so at least she didn’t thwack her head on his armor. “I just wish…I just wish everything could be peaceful.”
“As do I. Believe me, that has been my only goal in all this. But it is not the way of Avalon.” He pulled her into his arms. “And I grieve the uncertainty of our future.”
She believed him. Sniffling, she let out a wavering sigh. “I’m just so sorry, Mordred. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I really didn’t.”
“Gwendolyn, I must know the nature of your relationship to the demon. It is crucial before I enter the fray to know what I am up against. Please.” Despite his words, his embrace stayed the same—tender and caring.
