Page 45 of The White Enchantress

“Your grace, we should keep moving or else be caught by King Arthur’s men.”

“That is quite enough talking. If you make one more word, I will slit your throat.”

After another hour of riding in silence, I’m still struggling to untie my hands so that I can at least lift myself up in a sitting position and ride away. But Melwas discovers my plot to escape.

“What is it you are trying to accomplish, my lady?” He says with a sneer.

“What does it look like, my lord?” I sneer back. My hands are nearly free. I am able to slide them out but before I can push up into a sitting position, one of his men has my horse by the reins.

“Untie the lady and bring her to me. She will ride mounted at my front. I do not want to lose sight of my future wife,” Melwas orders. And his men follow like the sheep they are.

For the rest of the day, I sit uncomfortably rigid, attempting to keep myself as far away from Melwas as possible. The feel of my hips against his thighs, my butt bouncing against his groin witheach gallop is enough to make me sick. He often grunts, frustrated at the boners he keeps getting from our tandem ride.

My only hope is that Melwas is an honorable man regarding the sacrament of marriage. With all this sexual frustration he is experiencing, I’m afraid he will force himself on me again, and not just for a kiss.

But Lancelot is coming for me. I know he is. If that man is afraid of the possibility that Lance or any of the other Knights of the Round Table are coming after them, I know I will be rescued. Then I remember Melwas saying he had done something to Lance. “What did you do to Sir Lancelot?”

“What do you mean, my lady?” Melwas asks innocently.

“You said you had made sure he wouldn’t follow.”

“Oh, yes. I had one of my men slip some poison in his ale. It might be enough to kill him.”

My body turns cold. This can’t be the truth. Lancelot is alive. But is he well enough to come after me if he’s been poisoned? Yes. He is. He has to be okay. And he is on his way at this very minute. I need to stay optimistic.

The question is, how soon will he catch up with us? If my kidnapping wasn’t discovered until the sun came up in the morning, Lancelot wouldn’t have had a chance of catching up with us. Somehow though, I know he is close by, and I will see him again soon.

I feel Excalibur burn a little brighter inside my skin. Now that she is part of me, I can hear her more often. She was my onlyfriend at Camelot before Lance stopped avoiding me. And she encouraged me to make the first move, confident that Lance was only trying to be respectful. If Excalibur is team Lancelot, then my love for him can’t be a bad thing. Unless Excalibur is playing with me, making me fall into a trap. “Is that what you are doing?” I ask her in a whisper.

No, I feel the answer deep inside me. Then I ask if she can make herself appear so that I can rid myself of Melwas and return to Camelot.Not yet.It isn’t the right time.

We gallop fast, making our way to the Summer Region where Melwas is the ruler. I will likely fall off the horse and be trampled to death if I fight him now. But I know that isn’t why Excalibur won’t appear to aid me in my escape. She is waiting but also charging herself up. I can feel her power converging in the center of my being.

As night begins to fall, Melwas steers the men riding behind us into a nearby forest. “We will make camp here.” He announces. I am hoisted off Melwas and his horse as he orders his men to tie me to a tree deeper in the woods, away from the main campsite. A feeling of dread flows through my insides. I call out with my mind, begging Lancelot to get to me quickly.

No one offers me anything to eat or drink. I am starving, tired and stiff from spending the day on horseback, leaving me with no energy to fight as one of Melwas’ men ties me to a tree.

The man looks up at me as he begins to tie my ankles, a look of fright on his face. I recognize him as the man who stood up toMelwas earlier. Taking a chance, I whisper, “I will speak on your behalf, save you from execution or worse when King Arthur’s men arrive.”

His eyes fill with dread, but he takes my peace offering, dropping the ropes to the ground. My arms have already been tied together, firmly attached to a thick branch above my head.

Somehow, I get some rest while tied to this tree. The rope bound around my arms is long enough for me to sit on the ground, leaning back against the stump. I feel dazed as a hand touches my chin, waking me from my uncomfortable sleep.

“Are you hungry?” Melwas holds a plate full of food at my face. Feeling vulnerable on the ground, I stand up. This also allows me to reach out for some food, the rope looser in this position. But Melwas pulls the wooden plate away from me. “Open up.”

“What?” I ask in disgust.

“I will feed you.”

“I’d rather starve.” The smell of meat cooking over a fire makes my stomach grumble loudly.

“Now then, I would prefer to have my bride arrive alive and in good health when I return to my kingdom.”

“Fuck off.”

“That is not how a queen should speak.”

“I’m sorry. Fuck off, you mother fucking piece of shit.”

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