highest point of the church in the middle of the town. He loved sitting up there, wishing he could fly like the many pigeons and crows that nested near the steeple and belfry.
Leeds had always been a special place for him, even when he was forced to spend whole seasons out in the countryside at Otley. There were only cattle at Otley and John hated cattle. The look of them, the smell of them, the sound of them. It was all unbearable.
Today, he wasn’t thinking of how much he hated Otley and cattle. Today, he was thinking of how much he loved Leeds and would miss her, but also of how it made him feel to defend her and save her; their country as well. After he had been knighted, his father had told him briefly of the possibility that he may be called to a gathering of the Sons one day. Then when he had sailed to the Shetland outpost with the last of Arthur’s men to defend the north against Norse invaders, he had told his son that if anything were to happen in England, then Arthur would have no choice but to call them to assemble.
“Be ready, John, and do not disobey the commands of your king when they come.”
***
Caerleon, England
The next morning, Richard, Rhys and Erasmus said their goodbyes, mounted their horses and rode out of the gates of Camelot. Richard waved briefly to his younger brother, John, and his father, Caradoc. Rhys did the same before turning to look forward and sinking into a sullen mood.
“What is it, sir?” Erasmus asked, noting the knight’s expression.
“Why did my father not come, Erasmus? Why does he hate me so much?”
“I doubt that is the case, Sir Rhys. Perhaps when we get to Kenilwurt, you will know what kept him away.”
“Perhaps.”
Rhys blinked away the tears that threatened to form in his eyes, willing himself not to cry over things he had no control over. He had fought this same battle for his father’s acceptance his entire life and it seemed that even after achieving such a high honor as being knighted by the king, his father’s satisfaction was not attainable.
When they reached the bridge to the town of Caerleon, the three turned to take one last look at the magnificent castle. Its sand-colored stone walls shone golden in the light of the rising sun and the dew glistened magically on the lush, verdant hillside. The woods around the plain were just waking up and the sounds of birds were audible everywhere. Rhys noticed a small herd of deer grazing at the edge of the forest and paused to watch them. They looked at ease. Then he noticed as the stag raised his head suddenly and sniffed the air, then lowered his great horns again to the ground to feed.
It must have heard something, but found nothing on the wind to alarm him, Rhys thought.
And then it happened. Rhys hardly had the chance to bring Richard and Erasmus’ attention to the attack before it was over and the stag had been dragged behind the dark tree line. A huge, black creature had erupted from the forest and pounced on the stag’s back, bringing the deer down under its weight alone. Then, with one dip of its jaws to the neck, the animal was dead and bleeding and being dragged away and out of sight.
“What was that?” Rhys murmured, half to himself.
“I didn’t see it,” Richard replied.
“Neither I,” Erasmus chimed in.
“It was no animal that I have ever seen before. Come on. Let’s get going.”
Chapter Nine
Arcadia
“He knows, your Majesty,” the cloaked being said simply to his king.
“What do you mean he knows, Drow?”
The cloaked man was suddenly angry at the derogatory title and threw the hood back from his head to face Oberon.
“My name is Erandur, King Oberon. It may suit you to remember that I, too, am a king of my people.”
“Indeed, friend. Forgive me. These are such difficult times that we are facing and it just hurts more to think that the humans may have discovered our plans.”
“Indeed.”
“How much does the boy know?”
“It is