Believe (14 page)

“Sure,” she said as if she were not certain she spoke the truth. “I trust you.”

“With your life?”

She paused then squared her shoulders and looked up at him. “With my life.”

At once he knew what to do. “I had planned to leave on the morrow at daybreak. ’Twill be the time then to put you to a test of my devising. Succeed or fail, we leave when the matter is concluded.”

She met his gaze with a steady, unflinching stare. “Let’s go for it.”

He looked down at her for a long moment. ’Twas not necessary to put her to any trial. That she was willing to submit to such a test was proof enough of her fortitude. Was it this aspect of her nature that called to him? That nudged at his heart and kept her always at the edge of his mind? He’d not known another woman like her. ’Twould be so easy to take her into his arms and his bed. As his woman. And perhaps as his equal as well. He vowed silently to do all in his power to keep her from harm and prayed he would not have to choose between her life and the pursuit of the Grail.

He stared into eyes deep and dark and timeless and realized he was no longer certain what that choice would be.

“Tomorrow then, Tessa.” Galahad reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. “And remember, my lady, courage is not of the body but of the spirit.”

“I’m gonna die. I know it. I’m dead meat.” Tessa paced across her room shaking her hands in front of her. She threw her head back and yelled. “Merlin!”

Oriana perched on the edge of the bed. “’Tis not the way to call a wizard, my lady.”

“Well, if he had a cell phone this wouldn’t be nec
essary.” She continued to stride back and forth across the room, Oriana’s gaze following like a fan at a tennis match. “I can’t believe what he’s gotten me into. This is it. I’m doomed before this damn quest even starts.”

“Doomed?”

“Galahad is going to kill me.”

Amusement colored Oriana’s face. “You jest, my lady. Galahad would not take your life.”

“Oh, not directly. It will be an accident. A horrible, horrible accident. Tragic but unavoidable. I might even not die. Sure. That’s his strategy. He wants me injured. Just enough to keep me here when he rides off into the sunset.” She pivoted and leveled an anxious gaze at the teen. “You should have seen him at dinner when Merlin and the king told him I was going with him. He was furious.”

“I did indeed see him but at a distance.” Oriana frowned thoughtfully. “I did not note a display of temper.”

“You had to be close to see it. Believe me, he was one big, angry knight.” She resumed her pacing. “And I can tell he’s still mad. He’s covering it up, trying to be all charming and considerate. Pretending to be worried about my safety. But he can’t fool me. There’s no way he wants to drag me along on this little trip. That’s why he’s come up with this ‘test’ nonsense.”

“But did you not say the test was your idea?”

“Hah! That just goes to show you how clever he is.”

Oriana raised a skeptical brow. “Surely you do not truly believe Sir Galahad means to do you harm?”

Tessa stopped and stared at the girl. Was it only this morning he’d kissed her senseless and she’d kissed him right back?

“Do you, my lady?”

“No.” Tessa groaned and collapsed on the bed. She stared up at the wooden ceiling high above them. “Of course not. It’s just the panic talking. Sheer, unadulterated fear. Besides, Galahad’s probably too good and noble for something like that.” She glanced at Oriana. “He is good and noble, isn’t he?”

“’Tis no finer man.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“And you are to accompany him.” Oriana sighed with obvious envy.

“You say that like I just got a hot date for the senior prom.”

Confusion crossed the girl’s face.

It was Tessa’s turn to sigh. Merlin could have made this a lot easier by providing them all with some kind of instant translator. On the other hand, she could probably watch her words a little closer. And maybe, just maybe it was time to start putting some legitimate effort into functioning in the Middle Ages.

“Sorry, sweetie. How about…an invitation to dance?”

The teen’s expression brightened. “’Tis much better than a mere dance. You and he shall be together for months, perhaps years.”

“Years?” A queasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “You’re kidding.”

“’Tis true, my lady,” Oriana said eagerly. “Quests have been known to last for years and years.”

“Years and years, huh?”

“’Tis impossible to predict how long such a venture can take.” Oriana studied her curiously. “Did you know you and he are the talk of the castle? ’Tis most
unusual for a knight to be accompanied on a quest by a lady. I know not of it happening before.”

“That’s me.” Tessa rolled on her side and propped her head in her hand. “I’m a pioneer.”

“Pioneer?”

“Sorry. A trailblazer? An explorer? Um…the first to do something?”

“Indeed.” The girl hesitated. “Still, ’tis not a thing most females would wish for.”

“Tell me about it. It wasn’t my first choice either but I guess I’m stuck with it.”

Oriana frowned. “You do not wish this?”

“No, I don’t wish this. Not even a little. But it’s the only way I can get Merlin to send me back home.”

“Where is ‘home’?”

“Home?” The well-manicured university campus came to mind and her small but pleasant apartment, followed by images of the Victorian house she’d grown up in, nestled in an older neighborhood in a nice all-American Midwestern city. And beyond that, thoughts of laptops and microwaves and flush toilets and every convenience she’d ever taken for granted crowded her thoughts. Along with Christmas trees and Christmas lights and Christmas carols sung in the cold under a starry December sky. “Home is very, very far away.”

“Do you miss it?”

At once her mother’s laughter at one of her father’s bad jokes rang in her ears and brought a rush of longing so strong she struggled against the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I miss it a lot.” She sniffed. “You have no idea.”

Oriana stretched out beside her. “Tell me of your home.”

Tessa laughed softly. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“’Tis said,” the teenager traced an invisible pattern on the coverlet, “you come from a place where there is much magic. ’Tis why Merlin brought you to assist Sir Galahad.” Her inquisitive gaze met Tessa’s. “Is it not the truth?”

“The truth?” Digital watches and cars and lights at the touch of a finger. She chose her words carefully. “I imagine anything that you don’t quite understand could be attributed to magic. In that respect, I suppose someone from Camelot would think there was a lot of magic in my world.”

“Will you need your magic on this journey? To find the Grail?”

“I’ll need something all right but my magic is in short supply. Nonexistent actually. Merlin did offer to teach me a really neat trick…” She shook her head. “I suppose magic, anybody’s magic, wouldn’t hurt. I think we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Magic would indeed help.”

Tessa considered the idea for a moment. “I’ve never believed in magic before now, you know. I don’t believe in anything until it’s actually been proved to me. I didn’t think Galahad or Arthur or any of this stuff was real until I came here.”

Disbelief shone in Oriana’s eyes. “’Tis indeed a strange land you come from not to have heard of Arthur, King of all the Britons.”

“Oh, I’d heard of him, I just didn’t believe in him.”

“’Twas faith you lacked then,” the teen said with a wisdom far beyond her years. “Everyone must have
faith. In God and in the king and in man and in yourself. And,” her eyes twinkled, “in love.”

Tessa laughed. “Why are you bringing up love?”

Oriana shrugged in an offhand manner. “No reason, my lady.”

“No, come on, tell me.”

Oriana narrowed her eyes and studied Tessa for a long moment. “I told you once, my lady, that I believed Galahad harbored feelings for you. Feelings he does not understand as of yet. Do you not wonder at his desire to keep you from harm?”

“He’s just afraid I’ll cramp his style. I mean, I’ll get in his way,” she said quickly.

“I believe that is not all.” A smug smile quirked the teenager’s lips. “And I believe you suspect the same.”

Tessa bit back a sharp denial, remembering the look in Galahad’s eyes this morning when they’d kissed. Hadn’t she wondered then if his feelings mirrored her own? If he felt the same connection with her that she did with him? A connection so deep it wouldn’t take much more than a tiny spark to explode into emotions too overwhelming to even consider? Or handle?

“I would not worry about whatever trial the good knight plans for you.” Oriana slid off the bed and started toward the door. “He will not allow you to come to any harm.”

“From your lips…” Tessa muttered.

“I would instead fear the damage not to your body but to your heart.”

“My heart?”

“Lack of faith is as blinding as a hood pulled over the eyes.” Oriana shook her head. “You are as stubborn as your knight.”

“He’s not my knight.”

“Is he not?”

“No.” Tessa ignored the abrupt realization that she very much wanted him to be her knight and hers alone. Her white knight. Her savior. Her hero. But what she wanted didn’t make any difference, not really. Nothing could come of it. Their worlds were too different and she was headed back to hers as soon as this Grail stuff was over. Besides, there was no way she could compete with the oh-so-perfect Dindrane. He’d adored his dead wife. Tessa simply drove him nuts. “He’s not my knight and he never will be.”

“As you say.” Oriana pulled open the door and stepped over the threshold.

“Oriana.” The teen turned back. “I just wanted to thank you. For being my friend.” Tessa stepped toward her. “We probably won’t see each other again.”

“I shall miss you, my lady. You are unlike anyone I have ever known.” An impish smile lit Oriana’s face. “’Tis not so bad to lose Galahad to one such as you.”

Tessa laughed.

Oriana grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I wish you God speed.” She started toward the door then stopped and studied Tessa thoughtfully. “But I do wonder, my lady, if there is more here beyond Camelot that you have not believed in.

“That you may soon discover to be true.”

“T
his has got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever gotten myself into,” Tessa muttered to herself.

She pushed open a wooden door and stepped out into the walled courtyard enclosing the castle. A
bailey
, she thought it was called. Or maybe it would be called a bailey someday. Life was certainly complicated when you didn’t know the basics—where and when you were. Regardless, this was where and when Galahad had said to meet him. It was barely past daybreak, not her favorite time of day in any era although it didn’t really matter. She hadn’t slept a wink all night. Whatever possessed her to agree—no—demand Galahad test her courage? She almost deserved whatever he came up with.

In spite of the early hour, the area bustled with activity. She’d quickly realized the castle was very much an independent, self-sustaining community with each and every resident playing a supportive role. It would make a fascinating sociological study when she went home. If she lived that long.

“Merlin,” she whispered with all the force she could muster. Yelling would have been much more satisfying
but the last thing she needed was to attract additional attention. She was already the talk of the court. Of course, she could probably scream her head off and not get an answer. Mr. Wizard was apparently leaving her on her own to sink or swim, and to provide him with a little entertainment.

She wandered through the bailey noting the details of everyday life and filing them away for future reference. It was an old study trick and, right now, served to get her mind off her upcoming test and the quest to follow. She’d been rather surprised to realize how much she already knew about the Middle Ages. Oh, she was nowhere near an expert but in spite of her general dislike of the period, she’d picked up a remarkable bit of information through the years, thanks to the osmosis that occurs naturally in the halls of academia and a lifetime of education. Too bad she hadn’t paid more attention. Who knew she’d actually need it some day?

The clothes alone would give her a good idea of the date if she’d studied costume at all. Sure, she’d read somewhere that chain mail predated armor but she had no idea of the specific timeline. Besides, she hadn’t seen Galahad or anyone in any kind of battle gear yet. All the men she’d met were wearing tunics and tights, or rather, leggings. As for the women, the dresses were simple, long and flowing and not unattractive. Except for the ugly colors that seemed to be assigned exclusively to her clothes. All she really knew from her own wardrobe was this was a time before zippers and legitimate underwear.

She searched the growing crowd for a sign of Galahad. Was he late or was this a reprieve? Had
Merlin helped her out after all and waylaid the Big Guy? She sighed. Probably not. That would spoil the wizard’s fun. The sadist. She’d bet the Grail itself Merlin was having a good laugh right about now.

Tessa surveyed the colorful scene. Exactly where did all this fit into recorded history? And how on earth had Merlin managed to hide it so thoroughly? Surely, memories of those who lived here would be passed down in families from father to son, mother to daughter until…Tessa smiled wryly. Wasn’t that how legends started anyway? And a little selective magic strategically placed to wipe out a bit of physical evidence here, change a too-accurate story there, erase the memories of an individual or an entire family, and Arthur and Camelot would be nothing more than a fairy tale. She had to admit—Merlin did one hell of a job.

Still, it would be nice to know, even in general terms, what the date was. To satisfy her own curiosity if for no other reason. Although, when it came right down to it, did the date really matter? What were a few years, give or take a century or two, in the scheme of her adventure?

Adventure? She skirted a pile of manure and wrinkled her nose. That was the word Merlin had used. What did he say? Something about her being in for the adventure of a lifetime? No, he’d said she was in for a remarkable adventure. It was her visit to Greece that she’d thought of as the adventure of a lifetime. What a laugh. Not even the most adventurous vacation could compare with undertaking a legendary quest with a mythical hero. An undertaking that was quite simply terrifying.

Then why did her blood shiver with anticipation?

She pulled up short and ignored the curious or casual or irritated stares of those forced to step around her. When had her fear turned to excitement? Her hesitation to eagerness? Her reserve to a restless need to get started? She groaned to herself. God help her, she wanted this so-called adventure. This quest. This journey into the unknown at the side of a man who had already touched a chord in her heart.

And if her heart was damaged in the process? Was that yet another of the dangers and challenges and risks that Merlin warned of? When it came right down to it, was that too high a price to pay for the adventure of a lifetime? Maybe not, but she’d just as soon avoid that particular risk, thank you very much.

A grin broke on her face. Let Galahad bring on his test. Adrenaline surged through her. She wasn’t one of his typical damsels in distress and she wasn’t a
mere
anything. She was a modern female and knew a woman could do damn near everything a man could do. Not that she’d ever tried, personally, but…what the heck. She’d lived a relatively low-key, completely normal life before now. Maybe it was her turn.

The refrain of
I Am Woman
echoed in her head. She was ready. No, she was more than ready. Ready for challenges and tests and whatever else lay ahead. And more than ready for him.

“’Twould give a king’s ransom to know your thoughts, my lady.” Galahad’s voice sounded close to her ear.

She spun around to find him right behind her. He grinned with a look of welcome that nearly took her breath away. She gazed up at navy eyes sparkling in the early-morning light and lips full and inviting and
wondered how she’d ever be able to resist him. And why she’d want to.

She laughed. “Good morning. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

He returned her smile. “’Tis a day unusually pleasant. As is your temperament.”

“I have been kind of bitchy—er—ill tempered since I got here and I apologize.” She tilted her head and caught his gaze with hers, a flirting technique she hadn’t used for years. Judging by the expression of mixed surprise and delight on his face she couldn’t quite remember why she’d given it up. “Do you think we could start over?”

Galahad cleared his throat. She’d obviously caught him off guard. Good. He beat her hands down when it came to all things physical but there was nothing in her equality rulebook that said she couldn’t use every weapon at her disposal to meet and best whatever came along. Including Galahad. As far as she was concerned, flirting was just another weapon.

He swept a low, graceful bow. “Indeed, my Lady Tessa, I am at your service.”

“Great.” She beamed at him, hooked her arm through his and they started off. She wasn’t sure exactly where and Galahad paid no attention to what direction they headed. Instead, he stared down at her with a bemused expression, as if she were a new species he’d just discovered.

“’Tis an interesting song. I’ve not heard it before.”

“What song?”

“That which you hum.”

“Oh that.” She hadn’t realized she’d been humming. “It’s kind of a hymn.”

“Indeed. Odd-sounding tune.”

“I’ll bet you won’t hear anything else like it.”
Not for centuries anyway
. “So, are you ready for my test?”

“Your test?” He shook his head as if to clear it. His brow furrowed. “Tessa, ’tis no longer necessary to go through with it. Willingness to attempt such a trial, one whose nature is unknown to you, is test enough.” He smiled. “I grant your courage to be unquestioned and concede defeat.”

“I appreciate that.” She squeezed his arm. “And I must admit it’s really tempting, but I believe part of all this worthiness stuff involves honor, doesn’t it? Keeping your promise, that sort of thing?”

“Aye, but—”

“No buts. I gave my word and that’s that. So.” She gazed up at him with her newfound confidence. “What have you got in mind?”

He looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Come on, out with it.”

His words came slowly. “Upon further consideration, I fear the test I have devised is not perhaps as fair as it should be.”

She laughed. “What do you mean?”

He heaved a heavy sigh. “’Twas meant as much to scare you as to prove your worth.”

“Scare me?” What had he come up with? After all she’d been through lately it would take a lot to scare her. “I can take it. It’s not like it could kill me.” All right, maybe not a lot. “Could it?”

“Nay.” He scoffed, then hesitated as if thinking about it. “’Tis a slim chance but…” He shook his head. “Nay.”

“Glad you sound so confident.” Maybe not much at all.

“’Twas conceived to test trust as well as courage.”

“Trust?” Did
I Am Woman
fade slightly in the background?

He steered her toward the outer gates. A bow and a quiver of arrows leaned against the wall next to a lumpy burlap bag. He slung the quiver over his arm and picked up the bow and the bag. Archery? At least this was something she could handle. Maybe. It might depend on what was in the bag.

“You swore you trusted me with your life.”

“Sure. What’s not to trust?” Did her voice sound a bit weaker to him too or was it the blood roaring in her ears that dampened the sound? And where did that damn music go?

“Aye.” He cast her an admiring gaze. “I am impressed, Tessa St. James. ’Tis not easy to trust your life to a man who is in many ways unfamiliar to you. You are indeed a woman of rare courage and faith.”

“There’s that word again,” she muttered.

They stepped through the castle gates and his long strides led them from the town and toward a meadow bordered by a distant band of trees. She had to practically run to keep up with him. Where was he taking her? Probably someplace to easily dispose of the body.

Ridiculous. She stared at his broad back and fought back the fear that rose in her throat. She did trust him, more or less. Not that her instincts when it came to men were always on target. Far from it. Still, aside from a little arrogance and male chauvinism that she should have expected anyway, he pretty much lived up
to his legend. And Oriana agreed he was a good guy. On the other hand, there were huge discrepancies between the myth and reality.

For one thing, according to some versions of the legend, Galahad was known as the virgin knight.

“What is this?” She stared at the object he pulled from the bag and handed her.

“’Tis a cabbage.” He quirked a brow. “Do you not recognize it?”

“It’s kind of small for a cabbage, isn’t it?” She hefted it in her hand. “It’s not much bigger than a softball.”

“’Tis a good size for our purpose.”

“You think so, do you?” Somehow, given the archery equipment, and the fact that they’d stopped at the only tree between the castle and the woods—add to that old scars on the bark—she was fairly certain they weren’t here for a picnic. “And what exactly is that purpose?”

“’Tis the test.” He picked up the bow and snapped the line with a sharp
twang
. “A test of courage and trust and skill.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” In fact, it sounded like a piece of cake. Good, she could breathe again. Not that she was an ace at archery. But at least she knew which end of the arrow to point. “I’ll give it a shot. I tried a little archery in school.”

“The good sisters,” he said absently, still checking out the bow.

“Yep. Sister Abigail was quite an athlete.” He looked up at her. “Sports? Games? Running, jumping, that sort of thing?”

“’Tis an odd activity for a nun,” he murmured,
apparently finding the bow to his satisfaction. He selected an arrow from his quiver and examined it.

She leaned back against the tree. “Not where I’m from. There are Sister Abigails at every Catholic girls’ school in the country. I think they breed them in some secret science lab deep in the sub-basement of a convent conveniently disguised as a Holiday Inn in Southern California.”

He glanced at her sharply and she laughed. “I’m kidding. Seriously, Sister Abigail was great. There was a hot rumor that, before she became a nun, she’d been picked to try out for the Olympic rowing team but didn’t make it. Something about a chromosome problem…”

Galahad didn’t question the term. In fact, he appeared to have tuned her out completely.

“So, how’s the Camelot soccer team doing? They’re the Knights, right? Heard they lost that last game to the Vikings.”

“What?” His head jerked up, his forehead furrowed with confusion.

“Nothing.” She smiled sweetly.

Galahad narrowed his eyes suspiciously then turned his attention back to the arrow. Poor guy. Did he understand even half of what she said?

He nodded to himself then glanced at her. “Ready, my lady?”

“Sure.” Her confidence had faltered but was definitely back. It made absolutely no difference how good or bad she shot, he’d already said the test was a moot point. It was only important that she was willing to do it. “Who’s first?”

Galahad ran his hand along the bark of the tree, his
fingers stopping at a point about level with her chin. “Hold the cabbage here against the tree, above this notch.”

“Okay.” Of course. He planned on skewering the veggie to the oak to use as a target. It was a rather small target but—what the hell. This might be fun.

“Hold it thus.” He positioned her hand. “Excellent.” He picked up the bow. “Now, keep your hand steady.” He turned and started off.

“Where are you going?”

“I cannot shoot at this range,” he called over his shoulder.

“But how are you going to keep the cabbage on the tree?” she shouted.

“You will hold it.” He kept walking.

What did he say? “I will what?”

“Hold it. Hold the cabbage,” he yelled.

“I will…what!” She dropped the cabbage and hid her hands behind her back. “I will not!”

He stopped in mid pace. She could see his shoulders rise and fall. Was he heaving a sigh of frustration? Or laughing? He turned on his heel and strode back to her.