Page 294 of Kingdoms of Night

The squires did as Arthur bade them. Geraint stepped up, taking his place behind them. He remembered his time at this very ceremony. He and his brothers had been trained in the ways of the knights, but they had all assumed that their eldest brother would be chosen by the sword.

The sword had passed Geraint’s virtuous elder brother. And repeated the snub with his pious middle brother. Geraint had nearly not stepped up, but he’d been taught to always do his duty. So step up he did, and he’d been chosen.

The honor had been great. Almost too great to bear on his young shoulders. He strove every day to do his family proud and be worthy of the honor bestowed upon him by the sword.

The same sword hummed at his side, though the tune sounded off to his ear. Just as his nose twitched, he found Enid again, moving toward the back of the room with Loren on her heels.

“Be it known to all men that I, Arthur Pendragon, the third of my name, am minded to raise these men by virtue of their honor, loyalty, valor, and skill at arms, to the high rank of knighthood.”

The three squires all took a knee and lowered their heads. Geraint canted his head to the side to get a better look at Enid and Loren. They were far enough away from him that he needed to squint, but Geraint was certain he’d seen Loren slip his wife something long and thin. He couldn’t quite make out what.

“Repeat after me,” Arthur was saying. “I do solemnly swear and pledge my sword to defend and obey the people of Camelot until death shall take me, and to uphold the honor of knighthood.”

The squires all repeated their vows just as Enid dipped out of the doorway. It took everything in Geraint not to follow behind her.

“Arise, Sir Knights, and take your swords.”

Geraint could step back now as the newly knighted faced their most arduous challenge. The swords did not always choose the honorable men who had been knighted. The last time a sword had chosen a new knight had been Loren.

The female knight stood leaning against the wall next to the door where Enid had left. Her gaze was on the choosing ceremony. But the look of nonchalance was one that Geraint knew was feigned. She was up to something. He wouldn’t have cared what, except that it looked like she had upset his wife.

Baysle stepped up first. He might have stood a few inches taller now that he was newly knighted. But when he turned to face the swords, his countenance shrank slightly. Before Loren, the swords hadn’t chosen a new knight in many years. Expectations were low.

Baysle approached the swords. At the edge of the crowd, a young woman bounced a bit animatedly on her toes. She was likely Jaleesa, the object of Baysle’s carnal struggles these past few days.

The young knight passed his hands over the many hilts. There was a collective gasp as all present could feel the magic humming. Baysle closed his eyes, reached out, and rested his hand on one hilt.

Geraint looked again to the empty doorway. A breeze came from that direction. The scent on it was the bitter taste of lemon rinds and day-old coffee. His feet itched to go to Enid, to learn what was dousing her sweetness.

Behind him, the crowd erupted in hoots and squeals of cheers. Geraint turned to find the young girl throwing herself at Baysle, thus sealing the new knight’s career as well as his matrimonial state. With the crowd distracted, Geraint slipped out of the melee and headed toward the door where Enid had exited.

“We need to talk,” Loren said as she blocked his path.

“We can do that at the next table. I’m off work at the moment.”

“G.” Loren placed a hand on his arm. He knew this look. It meant nothing good. He allowed her to pull him into a side hall.

“It’s about your wife,” Loren began. “She’s keeping something from you. But I’m not supposed to tell you. She asked me not to.”

That called him up short. What he’d seen was Enid confiding in Loren? Instead of him? She barely knew the woman. Loren had only been back for less than a day.

“Let me get this straight. My wife told you a confidence and now you’re going to betray it.”

“Do you want to know or not? Because I could go and mind my business...”

Geraint said nothing. Instead, he rubbed at his heart where the charm still resided.

“When we first met, I thought you were kinda hot, and I would’ve done you, except then you opened your mouth, and all that honesty in you just killed my lady boner, because I’ve never been into good guys, and now I only think of you as a brother.”

Those were truths he didn’t need to know. He rubbed at the Takrut again.

Loren’s face contorted, then she opened her mouth, and more words gushed out. “Enid’s father is forcing her to steal a sword to pay your debt.”

Geraint rubbed at the amulet. Had that first bit of diatribe broken it? Was it too much truth to handle? Was pulling the truth from a woman like Loren too much for it?

“I have no debt to Gyges.”

“He thinks you do. And fae debt is on another level. She’s doing it to try to save you.”

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