I blocked the swing of Vone’s glaive and knocked her back stepping in and tripping her with my leg my sword resting at her neck. Stepping back, I helped Vone to her feet.

“You’re very good,” she complimented me. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out and get something to eat later today.”

I sighed. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings but again, I’m here to win the hand of Guinevere.”

“It’s just dinner,” Vone said looking at me with puppy eyes.

My voice turned hard. “I am many things, few of them good, but above all I am loyal to my word; don’t try that shit on me, we both know your not just interested in having dinner.”

“Wow,” Vone said some of the smile fading from her face. “You act like your already together.”

“Cheating starts in the heart first,” I said turning my back on her. “I’ve been cheated on before and believe me its not something I intend on inflicting on someone else.”

“Your happy to train with me,” Vone pointed out.

“Happy might be stretching it,” I said. “And regardless of your intentions this is just training. I need to prepare for my duels tomorrow. If you can keep things between us purely business than we can keep training together but that’s all this will ever be.”

I left Vone and returned to my tent. Kalin was already asleep exhausted from the training I had put him through today. I didn’t lie down but sat cross-legged, closing my eyes and falling into a meditative trance. I had three duels scheduled for tomorrow, and while I was certain I could beat them I would take no chances when it came to losing Guinevere.

--

With a swing of the hilt of his sword he stunned the other knight and he crumpled to the ground. The knight raised his sword into the air and the crowd cheered his victory. Guinevere sighed, another decent display of prowess but again it was not what she needed. She got up leaving the stands her handmaidens shadowing her every step.

She wandered the tourney ground. The hustle and bustle of knights and attendants froze wherever she passed their gazes following her a feeling of animalistic hunger in the air. The stillness around her was disconcerting and she nearly jumped when a roar sounded. She settled herself as the cheers of the crowd subsided.

“What was that?” Guinevere asked the tourney attendant who walked by her side.

The attendant checked their clipboard and their expression soured. “Sir Ismael, he’s some backwoods knight that has been causing us trouble…”

“Did you say Ismael?” Guinevere asked.

“Yes,” the attendant said. “It’s an unusual name I hadn’t really heard before, have you heard of him before.”

“Maybe,” Guinevere said not daring to hope. “He’s fighting now?”

“Yes,” the attendant said. “But my lady this arena is not reputable enough for a woman of your standing, these are just the common fights to pad out the tourney its…”

“I will be fine,” Guinevere said dismissing his concerns. “I want to see this knight.”

She walked up the steps into the stands sitting beside the adjudicator. Her handmaidens looked uncomfortable at the lack of a private viewing box. Below a knight in shining silver armor fought another night in full flat grey plate armor. The silver knight had a mace and shield while the grey knight only wielded a single wicked looking gauntlet-sword.

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He advanced on the silver knight like an unstoppable force; the silver armored knight ducked and dodged his strikes but slowed bit by bit while the other never stopped his advance. The knight in silver armor stumbled for only an instant but it was to late already.

The grey knight stepped forward blocking the wild swing of his mace and his other hand grabbed the edge of the other’s shield. Using his grip on the shield he yanked his arm straight and used to it swing the man around. Flipping him over his back the silver knight hit the ground helmet first with the force of a catapult. He lay on the ground dazed, and the grey knight kicked him in the head knocking him unconscious.

Guinevere looked down at the knight in his grey armor as he stood over his fallen opponent. He looked tilted his head to look up at the adjudicator.

“Next,” he said his voice painfully familiar and something inside Guinevere that she had thought dead pushed itself back up.

Guinevere heard the adjudicator’s teeth grind. “This is what I meant about his insolence; don’t worry we’ll find someone to put him in his…”

“I want to meet him,” Guinevere said. “Don’t schedule any more fights with him for today.”

“My lady he is a common hedge knight,” the adjudicator protested.

“Are you questioning me?” Guinevere asked.

“No, I would never I merely…” the man stammered.

“Than do as I said,” Guinevere commanded. “I’m going to meet him below the stands make sure my meeting is undisturbed.”

She practically ran down the steps pushing into the servant and staff hall as she raced to the fighter’s tunnel. Her hands worried at the skirt of her dress as she watched the portcullis roll up and the knight stride into the darkness below the stands. Her ladies in waiting raced to catch up with her and a female attendant waited for the knight.

He froze when he saw her and bowed.

“Princess,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

He removed his helmet and she looked at his face, the harsh angles of his face and the scars across his left eye unmistakable. She had to hold herself back from flinging herself into his arms.

“I wish to speak to this knight alone,” she said. “All of you leave us and wait outside.”

“My lady that isn’t proper…” one of her handmaidens protested.

“I wasn’t asking,” Guinevere said her voice flat, cold with no room for argument. The women all left and she and Mordred were alone. He twisted his fingers muttering under his breath and a shimmering field surrounded them.

“That will keep out any spies or eavesdroppers,” he said.

Guinevere lunged forwards wrapped her arms around his neck. “I thought you were dead,” she sobbed.

“What?” he said. “Why?”

“I saw that archangel blasting you to ashes and then the scrying mirror went dark,” she said. “After that I couldn’t scry you for a week, what happened?”

“Stupid anti-scrying field,” Mordred muttered. “I was incapacitated after the raid,” he said. “I wasn’t conscious for that week; I survived but barely, but I promised to come for you and I don’t go back on my word.”

Guinevere pressed her lips against his tasting the salt of his sweat. The kiss wasn’t soft or tender but desperate and hungry. He returned the kiss, and she resented the armor in between her and him. She finally pulled away looking into his dark eyes and felt safer than she had in weeks.

“I have to tell you something,” she said.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m pregnant,” Guinevere said.

---

The words hit me like a truck, and I was stunned.

“Your sure?” was all I could think of asking.

“Yes,” Guinevere said. “What’s wrong you look… I don’t know, scared?”

“I…I don’t know,” I said my emotions reeling.

“Mordred you need get me out of here,” she said. “If Arthur finds out he could have our baby killed.”

“I won’t let that happen,” I said. “But your sure?”

“Yes I’m sure,” Guinevere said angrily. “Why do you keep asking that?”

“I’m just… I’m just… I’m not sure I’m ready to be a father,” I said.

“Why not?” Guinevere asked me.

“I don’t know how to be a father,” I said. “Every relationship I’ve been in I’ve destroyed I can’t… I can’t do that to our baby. I’m not ready.”

“Our baby needs a father,” Guinevere said releasing her hold around me and stepping back. “I love you Mordred but this baby… its more important than either of us. If you aren’t ready to be its father than I’ll have to find someone who is.” Her face looked heart broken and angry as she whirled around.

She stormed out and I wanted to pull her back but couldn’t find the words to convince her. I didn’t have the words to convince myself right then.

Aisha came back into the room and looked at my face warily. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“I need to think,” I said opening a portal stepping through and closing it behind me.