The Savage Knight

sloping bank. I panicked and swallowed great mouthfuls, flailing uselessly. Then I felt a burst of pain in my scalp as Megan grabbed my hair and pulled me up.

I stood on unsteady legs, coughing and retching up water, snot running from my nose, my eyes streaming. I was scared and angry at the same time. Megan was an indistinct shape the other side of my tears. I almost yelled at her in fury. But then her arms reached out and she hugged me, crying that she was sorry, so sorry, over and over. The anger drained out of me. I pressed my face into her shoulder and whispered that it was all right and that I forgave her.

Then I had to hurriedly break free from her and turn away before she felt the painful hardness that had sprung up between my legs. I rubbed at my eyes and spat the last of the water from my mouth until it had subsided. Then I grinned at her and she smiled back. I could not stay angry with her for long; she teased me at times, but she looked after me too. She would never deliberately hurt me.

We swam around for a while, scaring away any fish that might otherwise have taken the bait. Eventually the cold started to get to us, and we decided that we’d had enough.

“Y-you get out f-first,” she said. “Keep your b-back turned.”

I nodded and splashed out of the water, hurrying past Megan’s clothes, which she had left just far enough away from the lakeside to keep them dry. I had dropped my shirt and shoes closer to the woods. The afternoon sun was still strong but the breeze was cold against my wet skin. I pulled the shirt on to keep off the chill while the rest of me dried and was just reaching for my shoes when I heard an echoing voice in the woods, calling out for Megan.

“Oh no,” she groaned. “It’s only bloody Arwel.”

Let me tell you about Arwel. He was our brehyrion’s son. It was said he had been born with the cord around his neck, stopping him from breathing. The midwife had shaken him hard enough to get his lungs working again, but it seemed as though it had broken something in his head.

Although the same age as Megan, he had the mind of a child and was apt to lose his temper if he did not get his own way. He was big for his age, too, tall and wide and ungainly with it. He had a habit of tripping over his own feet. Unfortunately for my sister, this bovine oaf was obsessed with her. He followed her around, trying to join in with whatever she was doing. I was convinced she escaped to the hills whenever she could simply to get away from him.

I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him, crashing through the undergrowth, calling her name. Having him find Megan would be bad enough; having him find her when she was as naked as a newborn babe would be mortifying.

I heard running feet from behind and turned to see Megan sprinting towards me, naked and dripping water, arms crossed over her chest, holding her clothes in an untidy bundle. “Don’t look,” she snapped. “Just get into the woods before he sees us.”

I ran for the cover of the trees and slowed my pace once I had reached them, lest Arwel hear me. We hurried away from him, moving as quickly as we could. I could hear the soft slap of my sister’s feet on the dry earth and her hitching, nervous breathing.

“Megan!”

I started. He sounded close but the woods made his voice echo; he could have been anywhere. Megan was not willing to risk being seen. I felt her hand grasp my forearm and she dragged me off the path. I kept my eyes on the ground, as though anxious not to lose my footing in the tangle of undergrowth. Megan put her hand in the small of my back, pushing me forward, guiding me between the trees.

“There,” she whispered into my ear, and I looked up to see we had reached a place where the ferns grew dense and tall.

We heard him call again. He sounded like he was almost on top of us. By chance, he must have taken the same path as us. We wasted no time, hurrying over to the tall ferns and hurling ourselves to the ground where we lay as still as we could, our faces pressed against the cool mossy grass of the forest floor, barely daring to breath. Heavy footsteps crashed towards us. I risked raising my head from the ground to peer through the greenery.

“Megan!”

Arwel was on the path directly ahead of me, walking slowly, looking into the ferns as though he could somehow sense us hiding there. He was big and ungainly, and ugly with it, piggy eyes squinting through the trees. His thin hair was parted down the middle and hung like damp fur on either side of his face. His heavy forehead glistened with sweat and his fat cheeks were flushed.

I ducked out of sight, afraid he would see me. I could neither see nor feel Megan, but I sensed her at my side. Despite our predicament I felt myself becoming aroused again, doubly so when her hand found mine and squeezed it. Lake water had cooled and softened her skin.

Then, from somewhere far away, came the barking of dogs.

I frowned. There were hounds in the village, of course, but these sounded as if they were coming from high in the mountains overlooking the lake and woods. But there were no villages to be found there; the land was too rugged and desolate for anything other than wild goats and sheep to survive. And there were so many of them, more than we kept in the village. The noise was cacophonous. I could not be certain exactly how many; at a guess I would have said two or three dozen. Not wolves, either. There was no howling, only the belling of hounds. I recalled the tales we had been told as children, stories of Cwm Annwn, the hell hounds of Gwynn ap Nudd’s wild hunt. Arwel must have heard it too. I heard him cry out with fear and he ran headlong back along the path as though in mortal danger.

The barking did not stop. It grew louder. I was certain the dogs were running towards us, that they would find us and tear us apart. I reached out and pulled Megan towards me, to protect her with my body if I had to. Her eyes met mine, wide and bright, her mouth twisted with fear. I could not help myself. I pressed my lips against hers and kissed her.

For a moment she struggled in my arms. Then, as the sound of the dogs worked deep into my head, I felt her relax and she returned the kiss, her probing tongue sliding between my teeth until it found mine.

The sound of the dogs faded away and took the fear with it. I was lost in the moment, completely surrendering myself to the taste and the smell and the touch of her. One of my hands strayed to her breast.

Megan pressed her hand to my belly and then slid it down into my trousers. I moaned as she took me in her hand. It was all I could do not to cry out.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my mouth harder against hers as a delicious pressure built inside me. Her hand moved, and I moved in time with it, the pressure building and building until something exploded within me. I was overwhelmed by a thrill so intense it was nearly painful.

Suddenly she let go of me and groaned with disgust, whipping her hand from beneath my trousers and shoving me away.

Whatever foul spell had been cast over us was now broken.

I felt like a man waking from a troubled sleep. I lay on the ground, blinking in confusion at the sky, filled with revulsion at the thought of what we had done. We were brother and sister. What madness had possessed me? Possessed us, for it was fair to say I had not sinned alone. Megan had been as desperate for me as I had been for her. All that day I had felt strange yearnings for her. Now I began to wonder if she had harboured the same shameful desire for me.

I could not bring myself to talk, and neither could she. I sat facing away from her while she dressed in silence, and did not move when she strode past me, without a word or a backwards glance. When she had walked far enough away that I could not see her, I got to my feet and set off back towards the village. Then I changed my mind and, stepping from the path, made my way to the lake. The lines were where we had left them, one swinging back and forth. I was not interested in taking the fish from the hook, so I left it to its struggle for freedom. I felt dirty, tainted. I needed to wash myself clean.

I waded into the water. Once it had reached past my waist I held my arms out straight before me and dived in…

The sun was close to setting by the time I reached home, but it was still uncomfortably warm and my clothes scratched my damp skin. I heard voices from the hall and could smell roasting lamb. Lacking the stomach for food or company, I continued straight on to our hut, hoping Megan and my parents would have joined the others for the evening meal. I ducked inside. It was deserted.

I lay on my pallet and stared miserably at the smoke hole; the sky was turning dark. I still struggled to accept