Free Camelot's Blood by Sarah Zettel Page A

lady.”
    There. He had said it, and to Gawain, of all men, whose deeds among women were still the stuff of legend six years after his marriage. Agravain waited for his brother to laugh, and make some wry jest. His anger pulled at its weakening tether, ready to charge forward in an instant. He almost hoped he could be angry. The boyish nervousness he felt now sickened him. Anything must be better than this.
    But Gawain kept his countenance, not even smiling in the depths of his eyes.
    â€œWere I to counsel a man on such a matter,” said Gawain, clearly choosing his words with the utmost care. “I would tell him to have patience, with the lady and with himself. I would tell him that it is a time when many men turn to brutes, and it is brutishness that many a woman braces herself for. I would say to look well upon her beauty, for she is a beauty, Agravain.” His voice dropped to the barest whisper. “Study that beauty. Treat it as wisdom to be learned, understood and deeply cherished. There, you will find you will know all you need to of the ways of a lady.”
    Gawain laid his hand on Agravain’s shoulder, a touch of friendship such as he rarely suffered. Then, Gawain drifted away, leaving Agravain his private thoughts rather than risk drawing this moment out to become something either of them might regret. Agravain found himself looking after Gawain in some little wonder, thinking that things might have changed within his older brother without his seeing them. That in itself was a sobering thought.
    Agravain straightened his shoulders. Laurel stood with Queen Guinevere now, the pair of them encircled by Guinevere’s giggling ladies. Laurel’s pale green eyes shone with the light of the candles, a clear and golden light that seemed to come as much from within her as without.
    In the next moment, she looked up at him, and those eyes widened just a little in surprise. Had she somehow felt his gaze. She felt it now. A blush rose in her then, turning her pale skin shell pink. Agravain’s throat constricted. Gawain was right. She was a beauty. Not just in face and form, but in all her bearing, in the mystery she carried within her. The sight of all that beauty seemed to root him to the ground, and in that instant he knew something new was taking hold within him.
    Queen Guinevere spoke some word that sent peals of laughter up among the ladies. The gaudy flock pressed closer to Laurel, deliberately hiding her from him as they joined hands in a ring to herd her away to the hall’s main doors. The move was highly visible, and meant to be so. Bawdy cheers went up from all the men present. And, as if that weren’t enough, the flock began to sing:
    â€œTo me a feast is a bore!”
they piped shrilly over the jangling of tambourines and cymbals.
    â€œI favour a love-gossip more!
    I’m cool to a mere plentitude
,
    But the face-to-face, ah, that’s good!”
    The whole court erupted into shouts of laughter and long, lascivious whistles. Agravain felt he could have easily killed them all. Laurel glanced over her shoulder at him, and even at this distance, he could see her expression twisted into embarrassment and awkwardness. His own face burned. Without thinking, he made to stride after her.
    A hand closed on his shoulder. Uncle Kai again, leaning lightly on his crutch, his eyes gleaming mischief.
    â€œNot so fast, nephew,” Kai said cheerfully, but softly, Agravain noted. This was no jibe for the court to make sport of. “Give the lady a moment to prepare.” With the barest twitch of his chin, he indicated the whole of the watching crowd, knights and lords and ladies, servitors, laughing and eyeing Agravain, some openly, some surreptitiously.
    Agravain struggled to keep his countenance. “I should go thank my uncle the king for the pains he has taken on our behalf.”
    Kai nodded and backed away so he could pass. Agravain pulled the cloak of indifference that