Chereads / A "Slave" in Arthur's "Court" / Chapter 29 - Chapter 28

Chapter 29 - Chapter 28

Beside me, Kahedin stiffened and I felt his hand tighten painfully around mine. We both knew and thoroughly disliked that voice.

Gaheris.

I realise that at this moment in time, it might be unfair of me to prejudice the readers against this man, but I hope that subsequent evidence will at least partly validate my opinions.

He stepped out of the shadows and his white-blond hair shone silver in the moonlight.

"Why are you lurking in the stables at such a time?" Kahedin snarled. I tried to squeeze his hand in warning, but my knuckles were already being pulverised in his angry grip. Hadn't I suffered enough today?

"I just wanted to make sure we were all accounted for, especially after such a dramatic evening." Gaheris said, but his expression bore no relation to his words. His ice-blue eyes were cold and mocking as he glared at us. I deeply regretted being unarmed, but it would have been too chancy to work around Arthur all day and risk being discovered with a knife.

"Really? How thoughtful of you," Kahedin said loftily. He was staying calm, which was a good sign, and I just hoped it lasted longer than the deceptive conversation.

"Just looking out for my fellow Sarmatian brothers," Gaheris affirmed, his face twisted into an ugly sneer.

I felt my stomach turn over as Kahedin's grip suddenly slackened. Oh no… he was going to push me back and then launch himself at Gaheris… I grabbed at his limp fingers and squeezed them as hard as I could, ignoring the pain in my own knuckles at the effort. I really didn't want Kahedin being goaded into a fight with Gaheris. The scout may have been leaner, but he was also a lot faster.

However, if Gaheris could land even one serious blow on him, Kahedin would be slowed long enough for the tables to turn. I knew every knight's fighting style, and this was one match I never wanted to see. When two men hated each other this much, any contest between them was likely to dissolve into a murderous endeavour.

I could only hope that Kahedin had more self-control than Gaheris.

When my effort to physically shake him from the stand-off failed, I moved out of my companion's shadow, so we were standing side by side, facing Gaheris head on. "Don't do this, he's not worth it," I whispered coldly, forgetting myself and speaking in modern English. I knew neither man would understand me, but it was the sentiment, rather than the words that mattered in that moment. I really needed to break the staring contest as soon as possible.

It seemed to do the trick. Kahedin answered me in Sarmatian, the language that the knights spoke when they didn't have to use Latin, and which he had been talking to Gaheris in. "Let's go, Kat – Tristan's expecting you." He tugged me away, his gaze sliding off Gaheris with searing contempt. We climbed the stairs to Tristan's room in tense silence, leaving the pale knight in the stables.

Kahedin stormed into Tristan's room, dragging me behind him. We saw our host, already changed for bed and cleaning his nails fastidiously with the tip of a knife. He looked relieved to see us.

Had Tristan and I gone past being allies to actual friends? I wondered to myself. Kahedin had assured me of his genuine concern this evening, but I wasn't ready to commit to such a belief without sober proof.

I threw my blood-encrusted clothes in a heap by the door, resolving to deal with them in the morning, while Kahedin launched into a hushed, but fevered diatribe against Gaheris. He made several references to an 'accident', which, by its description, sounded more like a premeditated crime to me. I silently put away the wash kit in an open trunk that I had taken as my own, and pondered when Kahedin would sod off so we could all go to sleep. I was feeling dreadfully vulnerable after his glances in the caldarium and the brief, but highly unpleasant, encounter with Gaheris had only shaken me further.

Something about the mention of 'Sarmatian brothers' had stung Kahedin's control more than anything else. I would have wondered upon the meaning behind this further, but Kahedin's whispered tirade was more distracting for its raw vitriol.

"… and then he has the audacity to say he worries for the rest of us! Calling us 'brothers' indeed! I would sooner be kin with a viper! That bastard's luck on the battlefield is only testament to how utterly repellent even the Woads and Saxons find him!"

Tristan was nodding sympathetically, but I noticed his eyes were lit with tolerant amusement. I stuffed down my own smile and kicked off my boots. As I moved over to the pair, my increasing sleepiness sent me stumbling into Tristan. He caught me easily and propped me up against his side, one arm holding me upright around my shoulders. I yawned again and blinked blearily up at Kahedin's slightly blurred features.

Tristan was saying something, but I only caught the end of it: "… all tired. We will talk tomorrow."

I forced myself to focus and smiled. "Thanks for the baths and the clothes." I mumbled – I wasn't making very much sense. But even though I was almost asleep on my feet, I could clearly discern from their glares that I was in trouble. But I wasn't sure what I'd done. Both men then exchanged dubious looks above me about some silent issue and shrugged resignedly.

With a sigh, Kahedin relented in his glare and a tired, blank expression lifted a hand to ruffle my non-existent hair. Then, remembering the wound, he pulled back and let his fingers fall onto my shoulder.

After a small moment of quiet, Tristan sucked in a breath and broke the spell of waking sleep that had settled over us. "Bed," he growled, gently wheeling me around and pushing me down onto the aforesaid piece of furniture.

I managed to untie my sash and shrug off the tunic, but the rest failed me. I threw them onto the floor, and curled up under the covers with a sigh and closed my eyes. If Tristan and Kahedin were still talking, I didn't hear their words. I was too exhausted.

The door shut with a soft thud, and I felt the bed rock slightly as Tristan joined me. He was out like a snuffed lamp seconds later and the warmth of his back against mine was a comfort. I joined him in Dreamland seconds later.