Chapter 18 #2
“You have no choice, if you ever want to see your secret beloved again,” I said cheerfully. “Imagine, your entire lives wasting away while you hold your tongue.”
“No, my lady. Your life will be gone before I ever speak a word about it.”
I laughed aloud, enjoying his annoyance much more than his restraint and charm. Like this, he was ready for battle, and my blood rose to it in answer, thrilling for a challenge.
“In that case, make yourself comfortable,” I replied. “Until you give me the truth, this will remain your prison.”
His response was to pull the chair to his side and sit down with his arms crossed. “Then I will be staying,” he said. “I am not here to satisfy you.”
But I was satisfied; already I felt more alive than I had in years. I could have remained on the minstrel’s gallery all day, duelling with him and enjoying his irritation.
“A few simple words, Sir Lancelot, and you will be free.”
My provocation elicited nothing, so I slipped back into the shadows. Another stretch of waiting would do him good.
I was halfway out of the door when he called after me.
“Who, then, will rescue Sir Gawain?”
It halted my steps; a new manoeuvre in our conflict. I returned to the gallery edge.
Sir Lancelot was still in the chair, eyes raised and piercing. “You must be content that your nephew might easily die,” he added.
“He is also a respected and skilled knight, of far more years’ experience than you. No doubt he has faced many a dire situation and survived.”
“Most knightly escapades are not as dangerous as being held prisoner in the Dolorous Tower.” Sir Lancelot uncrossed his arms and pushed up his shirtsleeves, shoulders shifting like rockfall. “He will require rescue, and without me, my brothers-in-arms will fail.”
Perhaps it was true—I had seen his prowess with my own eyes—but his attempts at persuasion intrigued me. He could not be fool enough to think I would just let him go, yet here we were, conversing around the subject.
“What are you suggesting?” I asked.
“I could go and rescue Sir Gawain, then return to your custody.”
It caught me off guard, and I laughed. “Do you think I’ve abandoned my senses? I’m hardly going to release you after I went to all the trouble of taking you prisoner.”
“This is not about me,” he insisted. “It’s about a knight and a friend. One of the men I love best, and your own blood. I will accept any terms you impose—just let me save him.”
The obvious move was to demand once again that he name Guinevere as the woman he loved, but his adamant refusal suggested I should not knock directly on that door again. I would have to be cleverer.
“A knightly oath means little to me,” I said. “However, for the sake of Sir Gawain, I am willing to accept a different pledge. Give me the emerald ring you wear around your neck, and I will keep it as a guarantee of your return.”
He paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Deny away,” I said. “I saw the ring days ago. I also know who gave it to you.”
Abruptly, he reared up and turned his back, suddenly unable to face me down. It was the first true sign of discomposure he had shown since throwing his body at the door.
“My lady,” he said hoarsely. “I will swear any oath that you wish, but only death would part me from this ring.”
“More excuses!” I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Do you believe you make the rules here? That you can keep refusing until I give in? You are asking something of me. I need to trust you, and if I leave this building unsatisfied, you will never save Sir Gawain.”
He swung back, his eyes blazing with outrage, as if just realizing this was the one room he did not command. I let my demeanour cool.
“I do not wish my nephew harm,” I said reasonably. “Offer me something, Sir Lancelot. You are wearing another ring—what of that?”
He lifted his fist, contemplating the brown stone. The moment stretched, my pulse pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. Then, in a quick, decisive movement, he pulled Ninianne’s ring off his finger and tossed it in a high curve, grey band whirring towards me.
I reached out and snatched it into my palm. In an instant, a weight I didn’t know my body was carrying lifted, renewed strength surging into my limbs. My stature felt like it grew to twice its size. Once again, I was in full possession of my power.
Sir Lancelot had chosen to return my ability to wield magic, and confirmed that Guinevere’s token was more important than keeping himself safe from the worst punishments I could rain upon his head. He was risking his life to shield her and their love.
The realization thudded into my gut, dulling the edge of my triumph. I had known that kind of wild, self-sacrificial love once, and it was taken from me, by the same people that Lancelot fought so hard to protect. If I held any remnant of doubt over my actions, in that moment, it burned to cinders.
“Wise choice, Sir Knight,” I said. Out of curiosity, I sent a whisper of sleep down, and he yawned, eyelids drooping. I watched him shake off the sudden fatigue before returning his insolent gaze to me.
“That ring is my oath, upon my honour,” he said. “Release me.”
“It shall be done,” I agreed. “First, I will tell you how I intend to help your quest.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t need any help. Especially not from you.”
“Your attitude to my kindness is disappointing,” I said lightly. “Nevertheless, you are mistaken if you believe one paltry ring and a so-called promise is enough to earn my trust. To ensure your return, you will also share your journey with a young lady of my household.”
“No,” he said. “Company will slow me down.”
“Not this maiden,” I replied. “She hails from the same vale as the Dolorous Tower and knows a shorter, less perilous route. With her help, you will reach Sir Gawain much faster. She is exceedingly beautiful and of charming spirit, and requires only your protection. Unless…you wouldn’t dare take up such a responsibility? ”
Sir Lancelot cast impatient eyes to the heavens. “Don’t tell me what I would not dare. Just bring my horse, my arms and this damsel, and let us speak to one another no more.”
“Good,” I said. “In the morning you’ll be on your way, and free of me awhile.”
It was only half a lie.