Chapter 7 – The Sweetest Thrill
It was late afternoon when Alan politely knocked on his master's door and entered when he got the permission he had been waiting for.
"Count Rathar de Vezon is here to see you, Sire."
"Yes, let him in." Sichar said and looked up from his work and signalled his manservant that he could take his leave. He looked at his visitor for a long moment and understood that this was more than just a friendly visit. "What happened? Another one?"
Rathar nodded and sat down on a chair on the other side of the table opposite the blond man. Maps and papers were scattered on top of it, but they were momentarily forgotten.
"Regno visited me a few hours ago. He said he had seen the man's capture, but he wasn't sure if it had happened yet."
Sichar pursed his lips in thought. Regno had been part of their small gang for a long time, and their visions had always proved very accurate. There was only one thing a natural seer couldn't usually tell: if they saw the past or the future. That made things a little bit complicated.
"What do we know about him?"
"He is most likely a druid. He's in his forties, he has silver hair and has a big, black wound on his neck. That's all. He said something about a dragon too, but that was very blurry." He recounted with a gesture to indicate that it really wasn't much.
"I see. We based our plans on less information in the past, we'll manage." Sichar said as he pulled a map of Camelot out from under the stack of papers. "But that sounds really interesting. A dragon. In Camelot!" He mumbled to himself.
"You seem to forget something. This time everything will be different." Rathar tried to pull his friend back to reality.
"Oh, yes, I know. Our beloved Princess Headstrong. But you know what? This situation has its pros and cons. She'll definitely want to go to Camelot, so we won't have to make something up to persuade Clodio to stop there. Hilde will take care of that." With that he offered some wine to his comrade.
"And we'll be inside the castle this time. We've never done that before. And just why do you think Hilde will be able to handle his brother? Clodio isn't as soft as his father."
"Are we talking about the same woman here?" Laughed the blond man heartily. "Have no fear, m'dear fellow. We cannot plan beforehand but when we're inside the lion's den, we'll be able to move about without raising suspicion. I'm sure we'll come up with something in no time."
"I drink to that." Rathar said and raised his cup. "Still, without the princess we could get rid of Clodio and all the troubles that may come with them. We could start early at dawn without telling anyone and let the prince travel with his guards."
"Indeed, we could. But then we wouldn't get inside the castle." Argued the blond one.
"And since when is that a problem? Come on, Sichar. How many times have we done this already? Ten? Twelve? We've never been inside." Count de Vezon tried reasoning with his friend.
"There's a first time for everything, I suppose." Sichar stood up and went around the table. He half sat on it and leaned closer to the other man. "Think about it, Rathar. Think about the excitement. Think about your blood pumping madly through your veins." He whispered in his ear. "It'll be damn good sport!"
Rathar looked into the sparkling blue eyes of the giant, blond man who was only inches away from him and stared at him with pure admiration. He sighed.
"That is all I think about."
Sichar smiled, straightened himself and walked to his window to gaze outside. The sun was already setting on the horizon. They had precious little time left to get everything together for their journey.
"So, when are you going to tell her?" De Vezon asked casually like his words held no meaning.
"I'm going to take your advice on this. Well, partially. I'm not planning on telling her. I'll let destiny take its course. If the gods want her with us, she'll be there." The giant mused as he twirled the curtain around his fingers.
"That sound like a plan. But I wasn't talking about our trip to Camelot, I was…"
"Ah, but you were. Because we can't talk about anything else concerning Hilde. Out of the question." Sichar said. His voice was calm and firm. He wanted his words to sound final but his friend wasn't going to back down that easily. They knew each other too well.
"How long do think you can go on hiding it?" Rathar rose from his seat and stepped behind the tall man. "Even a blind man could see how much you idolize her."
"That I do. But that's all there is to it. She'll always be the court sorceress and I'll always live for adventure. We're not a good match. Besides, I can't imagine she haven't sensed it already, and if she did she gave no encouragement whatsoever." Count de Lamain's mood deteriorated dramatically. It wasn't a topic he liked to think or talk about. His life was good the way it was. Why should he long for something he cannot have? "We'll start before the sun rises. Get some rest, and leave unsaid things unsaid. I'll shortly go and talk to the king.
Count Rathar sensing his friend's mood silently left the room and set off for the Saint-Maur estate to tell Count Bertram of their plans.
The tall man stood by the window for a long time watching as the sky was turning into gray and the world darkened rapidly. It did nothing to improve his mood.
"A dragon, they say?"
"Yes, it's green and has big wings." Gaius said and gave the young man a meaningful look.
"And all these people saw it?" Merlin looked around the attic which was crowded with the sick now. More and more came every hour and there were other temporary infirmaries all over the castle.
Gwen was tending to one of the sick knights. She looked back at him with fear and hopelessness in her eyes, and she shook her head. There was nothing she or Gaius could do. Merlin marvelled at the strength or her. Amidst this chaos she managed to stay calm and helped where she could. She was the rock everyone could lean on. A serving girl with the noblest of hearts.
He could definitely see the woman in her who was worthy of Arthur's love, worthy of wearing the crown of Camelot and to write history by standing beside the greatest king the world has ever known.
Merlin roused from his thoughts to look around again and realized there would be no kingdom if everyone died.
This was madness, and he knew no one was able to stop it. If anyone could, it would be him. He thought of Arthur. The prince was probably out there somewhere in the lower town. He hoped against hope that he would be all right.
The little boy who had been brought to Gaius was on the very brink of death. It seemed the children's and the elders' condition worsened the fastest. At this rate their beautiful home would become a ghost town in a matter of weeks.
His power had come with the responsibility, and if the realm had ever needed a dragonlord, it was now.
Fear gripped his heart at the thought of going out there to look for the beast that made the people of Camelot suffer. But he had to go. He had no time to waste.
The princess came out from the throne room pleased with herself. Her head was already somewhere else and on the corner she almost bumped into a man.
"Sichar!" She exclaimed in surprise. "What brings you here?"
The tall man recognized fate when it stared him into the face. He could do nothing now. He cleared his throat.
"I came to tell you, Mylady, if it is still your intention to come with us…"
"It is." Hilde smiled at him expectantly.
"Then pack at once. We'll start tomorrow at dawn."
"Thank you!" For a moment her excitement drowned out everything else but in the next moment it dawned on her. The man's strained expression told her that something wasn't alright. "What if we hadn't met just now?"
"I was on my way to your chambers." The tall man shifted uncomfortably. It was stupid to even think of lying to her.
"My chambers are the other way." Having her suspicion confirmed she decided to play the guilt trip card. "You wouldn't have told me! Then you would be happy to be informed that I'm going to Nemeth instead of Clodio. I've talked with my father, and I have his blessing."
"Wonderful news. I'm sure you're quite satisfied." Sichar was not the man who could be manipulated easily. It annoyed him to no end that Hilde had won once again. This game between them had been going on as long as he could remember but why couldn't she see that now she was playing with her own life? Camelot was not for the faint hearted.
"You clearly don't want me with you." Hilde challenged him.
"It's not that. It's dangerous." How could she not understand how much he feared for her? How could she not understand that he and his friends had an easy routine and there was no room for anyone else?
"You mean it's not for a lady." She got slightly offended when she realized the true meaning of the man's posture. Reading Sichar had always been harder than anyone else, but she couldn't explain why. "You actually think I would jeopardize your mission?"
"If you'll excuse me, my princess…" The count wanted to get out of this conversation before it got even more awkward, but Hilde was having none of it.
"Don't princess me, Sichar!" She snapped." We practically grew up together, you are like a brother to me. You of all people should know me. The real me." Hilde could see she wasn't making progress with the tone she had chosen. So she continued more gently. "I know that many would only see a weak woman, but you should know better. I would never do anything to get you into trouble. If anything, I'd help you."
"I know." The word brother hit the blond man like a punch to his gut. Not that he had ever hoped to be anything more to this strong and beautiful woman than a friend. And it should have been enough. Still it hurt.
Hilde's eyes went wide when she felt the aching vibe radiating off of the count. Somehow she couldn't decipher the look in Sichar's eyes but she sensed that this time she wouldn't get the acceptance she sought for. She had never lost. Not a battle, not a war. She quickly closed the discussion before she could further embarrass herself. "I believe you have some urgent matters to discuss with the king. See you at dawn." She said and the next moment she was on her way without looking back.
Count de Lamain leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He couldn't understand why he got these feelings. Why her? Of all the beauties of the country who practically threw themselves at his feet, why did he have to long for this obstinate, manipulative, amazing woman? He was probably the richest man in the land after the king, the most eligible young man. He could take his pick if he wanted to, but he chose not to.
Rathar had been right. He was twenty-six years old and still completely clueless when it came to women. Especially this one. But the rush he got when she was near him was unbearably wonderful. He lived for adventure. For the blood pumping frantically through his veins. But no dangerous mission had ever given him a feeling this strong. This was the sweetest thrill.