Free Lord of Avalon by J.W. McKenna

m’lord?”
    He looked up. “Oh, nothing, Jenya. Nothing. There was just
something, a fleeting thought in the back of my mind that I can’t recall.”
    “A thought? About how to help?”
    “Yeah. No. I don’t know. I can’t pin it down.” He stopped
pacing. “By Rand I wish I knew what to do!” He turned to Jenya. “What would you
do, if you were me?”
    Jenya bit her lip, wondering why he asked her. “M’lord, I am
only a slave. I know not the ways of Damons…”
    He began to pace again, dismissing her.
    “However, sire…” she continued. He stopped again and stared.
    “Yes?” His expression made it clear he doubted that she, a
mere slave, might have an answer.
    “You are concerned about getting involved and failing to
help,” she said, trying to organize her thoughts and worried that she might say
something to offend him. “What if you looked at it from the other side…what
would happen if you succeeded?”
    Rydah pursed his lips. “I don’t know how to do that, but if
I did, Farda would be grateful, of course.” He paused to think about the
possibility. “I’m not sure how the Acolyte or High Lord Bandar would feel. It
would depend on the solution. If there is one.”
    He shook his head. “But if my brother just wants me to help
find them, well, finding them doesn’t solve the problem.”
    He turned to face Jenya, her sexual allure completely
forgotten for the moment. “What will probably happen is, High Lord Bandar will
find the Acolyte and order Symal to be imprisoned. He’ll probably have his
henchman, Kendam, do it. He’ll threaten to execute her if the Acolyte doesn’t
marry Princess Wenelle. So they’ll get married, and Symal might then be
executed or simply left to rot in prison. The Acolyte can only do so much. He
can’t defy his father.”
    “But say you helped the Acolyte and Symal and did not anger
High Lord Bandar. What would happen then?”
    “Helped the Acolyte? Me? Well,” he shrugged, “if I did, I’d
be a hero, I guess.” His mind took that thought and ran with it. It would do
wonders for his career. He might be able to move up in social circles—not that
he cared. But he could afford a larger home.
    A larger home, more fitting of a Damon who now owned a
slave. And would soon have many offspring to fill it with. Was it possible?
    He caught Jenya’s eye and smiled. “From the mouths of
slaves. You’re right, Jenya. I shouldn’t dwell on the negative. I should think
about the positive. And if my brother is writing to me, he must really need my
help.” He stood still, his mind made up. “I’ll go see him. I can do at least
that much.”
    He frowned. “You’ll have to stay here, though. This might be
dangerous. I can’t have you wandering around getting underfoot. Will you be all
right here alone?”
    Jenya looked around, thinking fast. She didn’t want to be
left behind. “I don’t know, master. Being a new slave, I might wander off or
get lost. You’d be taking a risk. Someone could even claim me as abandoned.”
    He studied her face. Deep down, he knew she wanted to be
with him, despite the danger. He sighed. He didn’t want to leave her here,
either. He had just bought her! If she traveled with him, he could continue
breeding.
    “Very well, if you’re not to be trusted, you’d better come
along. We’ll leave in the morning—if I can finish my work in time.”

Chapter Eight
     
    Lord Rydah, having no transport of his own, had to rent a
small carriage for the journey east. In deference to fair-skinned Jenya, he
rented one with a top to protect her against the harsh rays of the Cyrus sun.
    They packed enough fruit, bread and dried meats for several
suns. While they were not traveling far—only about fifteen leagues—Rydah did
not wish to impose on his brother’s hospitality. Guests did not assume they
were to be fed and housed by their hosts, as times often were hard for those of
certain castes. Sometimes, they barely had enough food for