Page 33 of Queen Takes Camelot: Gwen
The legends differed about my role in King Arthur’s tale, but one thing remained the same. When it came time to battle him at Camlann, I was alone.
Lancelot and Bors had galloped toward the burning tower. They’d gone to save her, even knowing it was too late. We’d heard her screams in our heads long after she died. Felt her pain searing our flesh. Her agony etched in our bones. Inconsolable grief and rage had driven Lance toward madness, and he’d been unable to return to exact his revenge on Arthur.
He’d left that honor to me. And I’d failed.
Oh, sure, the legends said that I had been the one to deal him the mortal blow, and I’d certainly tried to rip his black heart out of his chest with my talons, but I couldn’t pierce dragon hide.
When my queen died, I was nothing. I had no power. My golden eagle was caged. I lost all hope. My love died. My brethren were lost, and the hope of the Round Table and shining were Camelot destroyed.
I’d crumpled to my knees with Guinevere’s last wail. I’d sobbed with her. I’d begged our Lady to spare her. To take me instead.
I didn’t want to be left behind. I didn’t want to live without her. Alone. Lost.
Arthur had stood over me and laughed. He laughed as our queen burned. As she screamed in our heads. Begging us to save her, and failing that, to avenge her.
With what? Our bare hands?
“Ah, Mordred,” a familiar voice echoed down the passageway toward me. A voice that blasted my innards with blistering hatred. “So we meet again, at last, at last. Are you going to come out and face your rightful king, sir knight? Or will you cower on your knees again crying for your lost queen?”
My bond was gone. I couldn’t feel even a hint of Gwen or her Blood. But I had to warn them. Somehow.
My mighty eagle screamed with fury, but I didn’t shift. Not yet, at least. I’d have to choose the moment I called forth my talons and beak carefully, because if he was already a dragon, I’d only be a tasty morsel.
Gwen would be lucky to find a single remnant of a tail feather on the ground.
In this day and age, I wasn’t a knight. I had no armor. No sword. But I would never go into any dangerous situation without being prepared. I pulled out my satellite phone and texted Gwen’s assistant, Kevin Bloom, who’d been left in charge at the tower.
We have a situation. Gwen, L and B passed to Avalon. I’m at Newgrange and Arthur’s here. Alert the Isador queen and see if she can reach Gwen to warn her.
Kevin texted back.Shara will try to get a warning to her. Hold on a sec.
“Don’t make me tear this ancient monument apart to get to you, Mordred,” Arthur growled. He slammed against the outer wall, and some of the stones fell out of place. The whole structure rattled, thousands of pounds of stone and earth above my head.
“I’m coming. I’m unarmed. I’m alone.”
“I know.” I heard the sneer in his voice. “It’s only ever you and me in the end. But I assure you that this Camlann ends your miserable existence once and for all.”
I slowly walked back toward the entrance, waiting for Kevin’s text. “We heard you were busy in Turkey. How’d you convince the Mother of All Dragons to let you go?”
As I neared the entrance, I slowed my pace even more, watching Arthur pace back and forth. Agitated, he stomped and whirled the other direction. He raked a hand through his hair. He wore no clothes, which made sense if he’d flown here as the dragon. But how had he sensed where we were going? He didn’t have a bond with Gwen, and we’d neutralized Elaine.
For all his cocky words, his manner was off. He moved… gingerly. Almost as if he hurt deep inside.
I fought down the tender hope that sprouted. I had to assume that he was just as vicious and powerful as always. He was the once and future king for a reason.
No one had been able to fully defeat him and end his curse upon my queen in over a thousand years.
Though I could only gleefully hope that Tiamat had used him so hard and well that his dragon was a bit bruised and weakened.
Kevin’s text popped up.Shara says the bond is very thin, but she believes she was able to warn Gwen. The Morrígan sends Her regards.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but any help from the Phantom Queen would be welcome. We were in Ireland, and some accounts had Her married to the Dagda, so it made sense that She might wish to intervene, even if Gwen didn’t descend from Her house.
A gust of wind blew past me. Frominsidethe mound, behind me. The wind screeched so viciously that I clamped my hands over my ears. Wings fluttered around me, beating furiously, brushing past me in a flurry. The stream went on and on. Thousands of birds, a swirling black horde of crows that swarmed the man outside.
They pecked at his head and face, making him fling up his arms to shield his eyes. Talons raked his abdomen and chest. He howled with rage and the dragon exploded up out of him.
The red beast was massive. He grew and grew, his tale wrapping around the side of the mound. For all I knew, he was big enough to enclose the entire site in his bulk. The crows withdrew but lined up into a perfect black line that disappeared around the mound.
