Page 19 of To Love a Dark Lord

But I cannot lie to myself to keep her. I cannot deny who I was meant to become any longer. If she truly loves me, she will see the truth in it.

“I miss you, Uncle.” Mordred shut his eyes. And some part of him that had held the line for all those centuries finally put down the shield. “And I loved you like a father.”

“I know. And I looked upon you like my son. But let me rest. Let the memory of me finally die. You were never meant to become King Arthur, or King of Avalon. You were meant to become Mordred, the King in Iron.”

The King in Iron.

Yes.

He supposed that would be suitable.

Now, all that remained was to see how long he would remain trapped within his own psyche, or if Gwendolyn succeeded in freeing him.

And after that?

How many dead he would leave in his wake.

If this is what Avalon needs of me…so be it.

And may the Ancients have mercy on all those who stand in my way.

SEVEN

Gwen wondered what the point of having wings was if she was always going to be stuck on a horse traveling with people who couldn’t fly. But it wasn’t like she really knew how to use them. Her one real attempt at flight had ended in a crash landing, and she hadn’t really worked up the nerve to jump off a cliff or the wall of the keep to force herself to learn.

But they made great extra insulation when it got chilly, though. She had to give them that. Their little motley band of Bert, Lina, Mirkon, Tim, and Eod were sitting around a campfire, while she was carefully cutting slits up the back of her coat so she could have her wings and be extra warm at the same time. She had tried to summon herself a coat to do the same thing, but she kept screwing it up. Probably couldn’t visualize it well enough.

So, the good, old-fashioned, manual approach would have to do. Avalon was slipping into the depths of autumn quickly, and while the days were warm, the nights were getting almost frosty. The change in temperature didn’t seem to bother Tim or Bert, though Tim’s joints were extra squeaky. Eod seemed unaffected as well, as he chewed blissfully on the deer antler that Mirkon had cut from the buck he had caught for them to eat.

Gwen felt bad for the deer. But it was nice to have something more than fish while on the road.

“How far away are we?” She was now stitching up the slits she had made with a needle and thread that Mae had packed her. Mae had packed her just about everything for the road she could possibly have wanted.

“Hm. One more day’s ride to the city,” Bert replied, thoughtfully looking off into the woods. “And there my people will already be waiting to meet you.”

“Once we get there, I have to leave to find Galahad. I need to know where he and Zoe took the Crystal.” Gwen frowned down at her coat as she kept stitching the edges of the cuts she had made. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with Galahad. She knew it wouldn’t go well.

“Are you so sure we need Mordred?” The wariness in Mirkon’s voice was thick as he whispered to his wife. Gwen knew she wasn’t supposed to hear him, so she ignored it as best she could. To them, Mordred was some big, scary, spooky villain. They didn’t understand.

Lina sighed and whispered back, “She loves him. And he’s suffering. And I’d do the same thing in that case. I’d burn down the world to free you, you fat bastard, if I needed to.”

“Love you too, darling,” he muttered dryly.

Gwen smiled. She hoped she lived long enough with Mordred to get to the point of aimless bickering. It was a weird life goal, but it was something. Maybe she would just be happy to talk to Mordred in person again at all.

At this point, they had spent more time apart than together. At least they had their weird and semi-constant dreams together. She hoped those would go away once they could actually both be free and not under constant threat of war and death. If that ever was the case.

But she had to have hope.

Avalon chose her to help it. Right? Right.

Eod looked up. “Mom sad?”

“No, baby. Mom not sad.” She reached out and scratched him between the ears. “Okay, maybe a little. But I’ll be all right.”

“What wrong?”

“I just miss Dad, that’s all.”

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