Page 110 of Under Arthur’s Protection

“I’m fine,” she said.

He pulled away from her, keeping a grip on her biceps. “If they’d hurt you⁠—”

“They didn’t.”

“What about me?” I said, pretending to be wounded by his inattention.

He marched around to my side. Before I could say I was joking, he pulled me into a hug and clapped my back hard enough to make my ribs scream. “Fuck, it’s good to be in the same country as you.”

“You too, brother.” I clapped him back, and for a few seconds it was just the two of us. Arthur and Lance. The way it had been since he’d landed a scholarship to attend my boarding school. Before the Teams, before Pendragon, before either of us had scars or a company that kept trying to fall apart.

He let go, his gaze lingering on the bruising along my jaw. “You look like shit.”

“You should see the other guy.”

“I really hope I never see that asshole again.” He turned to Gwen and shook his head. “You two are going to be the death of me.”

I grabbed the duffel and sword from the back seat. “Hopefully this will all be over soon.”

“Speaking of which, I think we need to hurry.” Lance took the duffel from me and motioned for us to follow him inside. “A rainstorm’s coming in tomorrow, so today’s our best shot, unless we want to wait for two more days.”

Inside, we passed through the kitchen and took a right past the breakfast room into the formal dining room. Lance had been busy. Several of my father’s old topographic maps were spread across the table alongside printed satellite images. Two handguns and a couple of rifles sat at the far end, plus ammunition—no doubt from my father’s stash in the safe room. He also had a small bag, a few flashlights, and two sets of binoculars set out.

“You’ve been here a while,” I said.

“I got in around two this morning, slept for a few hours, and started setting up.” He dropped the duffel and pulled out a chair.

I picked up one of the handguns and checked the chamber. Empty. “We can’t use these.”

“They’re your father’s. He won’t complain.”

“That’s not what I meant. We’re in the UK, and unless we’re protecting the royal family, they’re a no-go.”

Lance leaned against the table. “You used a gun in Prague without a license.”

“Yeah, and my father had to pull a bunch of strings to avoid me being locked up. We’re not using them here.” I set the gun down. “Besides, none of the men who attacked us in France were packing. Not even Rick.”

“So we’re going in naked?”

“We’re going in smart.” I pulled one of the satellite images closer. “Have you checked the tide schedules yet?”

“Low tide is in about two hours.” Lance tapped the beach on the image. “That, plus tomorrow’s storm, makes this afternoon our entire window. The front is driving heavy fog our way, and it should arrive soon.”

“The fog gives us extra cover.” I stared at the old map of Tintagel, which showed the jagged coastline and the headland where the castle ruins stood. A bridge connected it to the mainland for tourists. Far below, a cave ran through the rock from one side to the other. At high tide, it flooded, making it impassable. But at low tide, people could walk across the beach into what had long been called Merlin’s Cave. According to some legends, the magician had once lived there.

Lance said, “Since the tides control access to the cave, I think we start there.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“Merlin’s Cave?” Gwen leaned over the map, reading the tiny writing. “Where Uther snuck in to have his way with Ygraine?”

Lance raised an eyebrow at me.

“That’s the one,” I said. “Many of the Arthurian stories claim Merlin used his magic to disguise Uther as Ygraine’s husband so he could sneak into her chambers while his army besieged the castle.”

As much as people called my father Uther behind his back, the idea that he’d ever been so taken by a woman that he’d go to any lengths for her was laughable.

“How do you get into the cave?” she asked.