Lancelot and the Wolf (29 page)

“
Arthur is my life, he can do with me as he wishes,” I ground out through clenched teeth.

“
I’m sure he can,” she said suddenly turning me back. I stared down only slightly into her eyes. “After all, you want to fuck him don’t you?” she asked her eyes dancing merrily as she planned her verbal baiting.

Feeling like a cat’s toy made me grumpy in the extreme. I hawked and spat at her. I’d never spat at a woman and to be honest it wasn’t effective, my mouth too dry. It made her react though, her hand whipped up so fast I didn’t find time to brace. She slapped me hard across the face. The world bloomed with new agony and my stomach lurched with the instant need to vomit. “Fucking animal,” she hissed. Stars chased each other around my vision and I tasted blood in my mouth.

“
Where is Arthur?” I managed to ask.

“
You want your precious King then fine, have him,” she snapped. Her hand waved and light washed through an enormous room. My eyes, blurry from the smack, took time to adjust. I saw Geraint first. He hung over a pit like mine, still unconscious. Else hung with him, they were both dressed and hung face to face. The fey woman waved her hand once more. I considered what it would be like to cut that hand off. Geraint roused, jerked and cried out when he realised his predicament. Else woke and flinched, her small body bucked into his, they saw me and Geraint closed his eyes in understanding and acceptance of his fate. He spoke quietly to Else. I felt love for my friend as he tried to bring her comfort.

My eyes finally found Arthur. Or rather his back. His body lay prone, tied to a post, just like the one used for me all those months ago. His shirt lay torn around his hips, mirroring my own half naked humiliation before the court of Camelot. Sweat gleamed in the ethereal light and his blonde head sagged. He remained unconscious and unhurt. I trembled in the knowledge this status quo wouldn’t remain so for long.

“
Please,” I found myself saying. “If you want me, you have me. Let them go, my Lady. Show mercy, I beg you.” I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“
Nimue, Lancelot, my name is Nimue,” she stroked my chest once more. “And I will be your Queen.”

“
I thought you were already Queen?” I asked, trying to draw her into conversation and away from thoughts of Arthur.

“
I am. I am married to your father, but he is an ignorant selfish pig,” that came from her perfect lips sounding like a pout, “and I want you not him on the throne of Albion.”

Great, I thought, so we are the pawns in the centre of a game between rival fey who are fighting over our throne and sulking about it.

“
Well, Nimue, if you let them go, I will fight for you and kill this fey king of yours to give you the throne of Albion. We need not involve Arthur at all.” It was worth a try.

She giggled, “No,” she said and Geraint cried out. My head ripped up to see him and Else lowered several inches toward the coals under their bare feet. I heard Else call out to me. Impotent, I just watched as they hung and twisted now closer to the fire. Else talked to Geraint, his legs moved and he hooked them over her hips, pulling on her small wrists but taking his feet away from the worst of the fire. Blood flowed down her arms.

“
I want Arthur dead and I want him dead by your hand,” she said very slowly, poking me in the chest to emphasise each word. “I need Albion and England to become one again. I need the mortals to worship in the old style. I need you to be king. My people will accept you and your people will accept you, with some gentle persuading.”

“
Why do I have to kill Arthur?” I asked. “Anyone can do it.”

Her fingers played in my blood drawing lines, “True, but I need you to do it, so you understand who and what you are. I need you to kill him and take his place. I’ll even throw in Guinevere if you want her that badly. Call it, training,” she said slowly, choosing her words. “If you kill him it will stop you from loving him and it will please me. You want to please me don’t you?”

Her strange eyes held me captive as she spoke. I wanted to kiss that mouth, those full lips. My brain screamed at me, the warrior in me reacting to something horribly familiar. The spell, the love spell the other fey used to trap me with Else. The lassitude crept slowly over me and my dick stirred. She smiled and I ached for her mouth on my hot wet skin. “Yes, you see, you are weakening to me already,” she whispered.

CHAPTER THIRTY

A small whimper escaped me. I hated that spell, more than anything else I did not want to feel it pouring through my body and forcing me hard. Her hand strayed over my growing erection and I closed my eyes in shame, “Impressive,” she informed me.

I wanted to scream at her that she’d never have me, but I knew perfectly well if she continued this game I’d be fucking her on the dungeon floor in front of everyone. Her hand massaged my cock and an image flashed into my head, Arthur begging me with his eyes to finish with him what we’d begun. Begging me to help him manifest the passion, we shared for all these long years. Other than the lovely women I paid, he was the only person to offer me honest physical completion. Unlike my paid companions, he also offered me his heart.

His name did not leave my lips but I did hold him as a talisman against Nimue’s considerable charms. If I wanted my lover to be male, so what? So long as we were both happy.

I needed to escape this place and I needed to save Arthur and the others. I relaxed into the spell coursing through me and smiled at Nimue, “Kiss me, my Queen,” I begged.

Her lips brushed mine and I reacted. The spell tore through me making me gasp. It surged so much more strongly, more perfectly and completely than anything I’d felt with Else. The fey queen’s lips parted and I kissed her, deeply, she tasted of honey and joy. Liquid light spilled into my mouth even as her sharp teeth grazed my lip and more blood flowed. Her hands strayed around my back and great strength pulled me toward her gold encased body. My toes touched the edge of the fire pit. Somewhere far away I heard Else calling to me but I ignored her nagging. All I wanted to feel or see or hear was Nimue. My arms relaxed, the chains to the ceiling lengthened. Their descent enabled me to wrap my arms around my beautiful goddess and hold her close.

She pulled back slightly and I ravaged her neck making her cry out and arch in my aching embrace. The pain fled from my mind. So far away I barely registered it. Nimue murmured, “Yes, my King, yes. Possess me.”

Just one word and the intoxication of her touch vanished. King. I am no king. I loved a king and that love roared forth to devour the witch’s spell. My heart would not be tricked. I gave my body free rein, just as I did when I’d drunk too much to be fully aware. It knew this dance so well it performed its duties without my brain. That raced at full speed, seeking a path through this mess. I needed my hands free and I needed a weapon. I needed a plan. While I worked on her pleasure, I watched the room gradually fill with soldiers and my elation at seeing a way through this mess, vanished.

Her fingers tangled my sweaty hair and she dragged my mouth from her delicate throat. “I have a duty for you, my King,” she said.

“
Anything,” I said, my hands roving over the golden armour.

“
Kill the Merlin first,” she said.

I flinched, so he was here, I nodded to cover my movement, pulling against her hand. The pain made me push my hips harder into her body. My nod pleased her and she pulled back from me, the chain giving way under her magic. I found my hands free and aching for her delicate neck. I almost reached for her until she waved her hand and another corner of the room danced with light. Merlin sat in the bottom of a cage on the floor. His long silver hair filthy and tangled. His strong frame wasted from hunger. A gag sat in his mouth and his green eyes blazed with fury, mostly pointing at me.

“
I will need a weapon, my Queen,” I said holding her in one arm. My lust, my constant downfall, rode me hard. I wanted to rip her armour off her body and bury myself inside her soft wet cave. I tried to pull her back into my close embrace.

“
Use your bare hands, Lancelot,” she ordered, her hand stroking my naked chest and teasing my nipples.

I blinked, “You want me to snap his neck?” Shit and I thought I’d have the weapon I needed to face her guard. If I didn’t kill her first, she’d see Geraint and Else burn while I remained occupied by the soldiers.

“
I don’t care how you do it. Strangle him like an unwanted puppy if you want. Just end his miserable life,” she turned away. I dare not do anything other than follow orders. I walked on shaking legs to Merlin, focusing only on his angry green eyes. His lips moved and he made noises but I couldn’t understand him.

“
I need you to unlock his cage,” I said forcing my mind to concentrate on her desires. The lock snapped open before my eyes. Merlin barged into the door. It swung open but I merely grabbed him by the neck and hauled him out. He felt terrifyingly light. His legs and arms were shackled, with scars covering his skin. He’d been here a long time. He struggled but I held him, his back to my chest, his ear very close to my mouth.

“
Stop struggling you old fool or I’ll end up snapping your neck by accident,” the words whispered through my lips. I held him tight, one arm around his neck, the other arm pushing against the back of his head. My hand grasped the opposite bicep. If I applied this correctly he’d be out cold in half a dozen heartbeats. He relaxed slightly. “Listen to me. We are fucked if you don’t do this right. I need you to collapse, fake death if you can wizard. Then I need you to save Geraint and Else while I pick a fight. Arthur is unconscious at the moment. Geraint needs to save him while I hold them all off. I need Nimue dead.”

He made some noises but I’d run out of time, the witch approached. “Kill him, or are you not the great knight they all talk about?” Her mouth twisted in anger and disdain.

“
My Queen,” I said and tightened my grasp. Merlin fought. I pushed on the sides of his neck and he gurgled before relaxing. I dropped him. “It is done,” I said coldly walking to the vision of female power before me. She stroked my chest, filling my loins with aching need. The voice in my head, the one which sounded like the wolf, barked at me reminding me of Arthur.

“
And now the usurper,” she purred.

“
Am I to strangle him as well?” I asked.

Nimue smiled, “I don’t think so. I think you should have your revenge.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. I ignored Merlin’s body. I ignored Geraint’s demands and Else’s cries. I meekly followed Nimue. We were in her world, under her power and I wanted us all out alive. She led me to Arthur and I watched her stroke his head. I moved, so did the soldiers nearest us. I forced the bile back down my throat as she brought my King out of his magical sleep. All the time Nimue played games Merlin might find a way to save us.

“
Hello, Arthur dear. Remember me?” she said pulling his head back from the post.

When Arthur Pendragon became aware of his predicament, he fought. I watched mute. He struggled and pulled and cursed and screamed vengeance on Nimue. All his glorious majesty battled with the chains holding him to the post.

When I found myself chained to a post, my back naked, I did not fight. I prayed for Arthur’s forgiveness and I closed my eyes against his pain. He had watched every one of the lashes kiss my back. When it ended and I opened my eyes, he stood, unmoved and blank. Our eyes met for a moment before he turned away from me and left. Stephen de Clare laughed. I remembered that, he laughed when they cut down my bleeding body.

Nimue laughed now, “Arthur, I have someone here who wants to help you find your place in our new world.” Her hand lashed out so fast it blurred. I jumped. She grabbed me and pulled me into Arthur’s field of vision. “Look, the new King of Camelot,” she announced happily, ruffling his hair.

We stared at each other wordlessly. Something profound happened, Arthur relaxed. He stopped fighting and smiled. We gazed at each other and just as the stag and wolf knew no words with which to communicate, Arthur and I needed no words. His life in my hands and he gave it to me without a fight.

“
Ah,” Nimue said, “it must be love.”

“
It is, my Queen,” I said to take her mind off Arthur. I stroked her hot skin. She kissed me in front of Arthur. I gave myself over to the passion, forcing my own physical strength into Nimue, dominating her soft feminine body. Delay, distract, confuse, if I couldn’t fight, I could fuck. The thought made me want to giggle. I hid my face in her considerable cleavage. Her gasps of delight helped me turn her away from any potential movement belonging to Merlin. I also hoped the fey soldiers were watching me, not him.

“
Bad boy,” she remonstrated gently, grabbing my right hand. It strayed down the golden armour seeking a way into her flesh. “Stop trying to distract me from my task.” Her hand, so much smaller than mine, flexed. I screamed. “I can taste your love for the usurper,” she whispered over the noise of every one of my bones breaking inside my hand. “Thought you’d fool me?” her voice echoed through the chamber, the soldiers cheered in a strangely uniform manner. I crouched at her feet, huddling over my broken right hand. My favoured sword hand.

That devil in female form entwined hanks of my hair around her fingers and pulled me across the floor faster than I could scramble with a broken limb. I reached for the stone ground without thinking and almost blacked out from the flare of white heat crashing into my mind. My broken hand unable to help me keep up with her movement and stop her pulling hair from my scalp. My mind had learnt to cope with so many different forms of pain over the years, even that of my punishment, but this was new and so much worse. I lay, gasping as she cursed my name. The pain washed back. She dragged me upright and I regained my feet. Nimue reached behind her and pulled a single tailed lash toward me.