The next morning, I awoke early, making my way down to the dining room. I’d not appreciated it fully, but the decorations of the house were rather tasteful, which seemed out of character given the owner. I walked past several competent tapestries depicting battles of legend and several trophies of note, including a spiralling horn that looked startlingly similar to depictions of a unicorn’s horn I’d seen in my alchemy texts. It was enough to pause me, and I only relaxed after reading the small plaque explaining that it was the tip of a horn that belonged to a mortal beast called a narwhal. Not that I was expecting it to be a unicorn; otherwise, Spendlove would’ve been either rich or dead.

  Unicorns were one of the few benevolent spirit creatures, known for offering guidance and particularly well known for protecting children. Their horns, though, were a near-legendary ingredient for alchemists, being one of the only physical formations of moon glamour found in our realm. This fact protected them, with most knights seeing hunting them as coming uncomfortably close to acting against the Lady. Some groups would even viciously defend them.

  I wondered why Spendlove had it and decided the man had likely been tricked. I could imagine some conman using the horn to leverage some cash out of him. I’d bet money that he’d put it on display to salve his wounded pride when he found out he had purchased nothing but mundane ivory.

  Chuckling to myself, I entered the dining room, ready to help myself to what I was sure would be a hearty breakfast. I was expecting to be the first up. I wasn’t as tired as the others from yesterday. While my stamina was yet to match theirs, I had the benefit of not being in full plate and had only killed one wolf. So it lifted my spirits to find both Bors and Sephy already sitting at the table. The pair had got up earlier than most and had been reviewing a map of the various passes and roads that we would soon be exploring with our Order.

  We’d set up some privacy wards around the room, so I’d felt comfortable probing around my discussion with Arthur last night. Sephy had been particularly smug after she forced me to admit I may have been overly critical of the prince. However, our discussion quickly turned to a more important topic.

  “So that’s why he keeps playing unwanted warden of virtue!” Bors groaned, resting his head in his palm.

  “Why didn’t it occur to you?”

  “My blood was up, or at least something was.” Bors chuckled as Sephy reached over me to swat him on the back of the head. “Besides, I’ve given him permission to cultivate my emotions whenever. It didn’t occur to me he wouldn’t know! Now I’m almost glad. I'd trust him with my life but not my lust.”

  “And you?”

  “I thought Bors was exaggerating, and by the time it affected me, I was focused on the task at hand.” Sephy added flirtatiously. I hid a shiver. She’d lied in the second half of that sentence, which set me on edge—until I noticed the tips of her ears flushing red, just before a swirl of blood glamour cleared the outward sign of embarrassment. If I had to guess, she’d just not thought of it.

  “Then why is he so odd about Maeve? If he can pick up—”

  “Taliesin, picture knowing every suitor’s emotions towards you! And if you were courting, he’d have to deal with always knowing something they don’t necessarily want to share. It’d be invasive, knowing things they wanted to keep secret.” Bors explained. I nodded dumbly, feeling like I’d been slapped. Was I doing the same thing with my truth sense?

  “He actually prefers indifference. He’s getting better at shuttering those senses, but it’s far from perfect. Unrequited passion is, for him, the safest approach.” Sephy added truthfully.

  I sighed. I did not appreciate this new perspective on my skills.

  “It’s kind of tragic.” It was a curse worthy of a song. Arthur was still Arthur, but knowing his secret was forcing me to see him as a person, not as a straw man for all my issues with authority, topped with stupidly good hair. I was saved from additional empathy as our compatriots finally arrived.

  “That looks good.”

  The door opened, and sound from the outside spilled in as the privacy wards were disturbed. The three of us had been the first to arrive at the dining table, a collection of cold meats, cheese, bread, and porridge awaiting us. We’d barely touched our food, as I’d immediately wanted to explore what I’d been told last night.

  They quickly helped themselves to some plates. Given the immaculately laid spread, I was glad we’d told Lucan that simple fare was all we needed. If this was his idea of simple, then I’d hate to see what he’d have done if we’d asked for anything formal.

  “Morning, Lance. How was stabling Gring?” I asked the new knight. She was ecstatic to have reached Iron and be able to travel with us. I’d already had to dodge her approaching me about rewards for my aid twice. I had a suspicion she’d colluded with her mother and was now preparing for a third attempt.

  “Did you remember what I warned you about with the mares?”

  “I did, though I think he’s focused on trying to woo Maeve’s mare.”

  “If he’s rough with Helena, he will get no mercy from me.” Maeve said, glamour flaring around the butter knife in her hand, the blade growing a ghostly point and the edge shimmering.

  “You don’t need to worry. At least not right now—he was shattered yesterday. Archimedes was little better. It’s worth remembering that it’s less tiring for them to fly at their own pace. It takes far more energy to keep circling round our earthbound compatriots.” Gawain chimed in. After that, silence, interrupted only by the sound of us eating our fill, descended. There was a lot to do today.

  “You all sleep well?” I asked as I stood to fetch an apple.

  “Well, I will say this for Spendlove—he clearly has good taste when it comes to a quality mattress.”

  “Makes sense he’d have opinions on the best ways to sleep.” Lance chuckled. Other jokes at the expense of our patron bubbled round the table. Only Arthur and Gawain abstained. Technically, our insults were terribly boorish, but thanks to his behaviour and the privacy ward, we weren't about to stop.

  “Has anyone seen him?” Arthur asked, and everyone shook their heads. I didn’t look over to him. In part, because I wanted to move past the events of last night, and I wanted to avoid the urge to go examine my hair in a mirror. I avoided looking at Lance for the same reason. The rest of us looked like folk who were travelling, carrying a certain roughness to us. The men had stubble, and the women’s hair was bound in sensible, manageable styles. As for our two moon-gifted, they looked like they’d been prepared by a team of servants.

  Cutting short my musing on the unfairness of the world was a chorus of muttered negatives and shaking heads. Gawain looked about, checking the privacy runes before speaking.

  “No, which is odd. I sent a note via Lucan that we wished to confer with him this morning before we head out. It’s hard to imagine he has anything to add, as he seems to have left it all to his subordinates—that and other factors.” That was near a criticism of the man as we were likely to get from the uptight knight.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “What is the plan again? Did your flights reveal anything?” The question came from Tristan, who, while dressed like he’d stepped out of a bordello, was using his more bureaucratic tones given our privacy.

  Similar to Kay’s role on the road, Gawain was our expert on monsters and hunting. As such, he’d been appointed ‘Huntsman’, and the knights all deferred to him when it came to working out how to handle this challenge.

  “I’ll get to that when I’ve—” We all silenced as the door opened and Lucan swept in. For the average man, the slightly askew tunic and the few bits of hair that had escaped his carefully swept and oiled visage would’ve meant nothing, but given the man’s otherwise impeccable appearance, it had the same effect as meeting a knight with half his armour missing and the rest bloodied.

  He hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and bowing low to us, his voice quavering as he spoke. “Esteemed guests, as gauche as it is to share dire news as you break your fast, it is my duty to share with you the happenings of last night. I beg you, restrict your ire to myself. I should have thought—”

  “Be calm, Squire Lucan. Unless you have totally misrepresented yourself before now, I cannot imagine we shall be upset with you.” Arthur was first to speak, calming the man with a pat on the shoulder. I would’ve spoken first, but I was busy choking down a huge chunk of apple I’d timed poorly.

  “While it is my duty to serve my knight, I must report that Sir Spendlove seems to have—absconded in the night. He, his horse, and most prized possessions are absent.”

  “Coward.” Yells of anger flared round the table, the knights standing in shock and fury. My senses filled with roaring intent, the knights’ rage funnelling into their aura. I was able to weather the shock, but I saw Lucan go pale and rigid. While no one was targeting him, being a Bronze in a room with so much aura had to be rough. I moved up next to the butler and crudely spread my intent around us both, humming a gentle, upbeat tune to help me guide it.

  The group weren’t calming down. I didn’t quite follow the outrage—the only thing surprising about this was that he had the balls to actually run for it. It took more courage than I imagined he possessed to commit oneself so strongly to being a coward.

  “We should hunt him down. He’s failed in his duty as a knight by fleeing a town under his protection in a time of need.” Maeve was standing, looking out the window, as if actively considering launching herself out of it in pursuit.

  The knights were out for blood. I tried to soothe the room.

  “I thought our goal was to not be political? Surely you cannot be suggesting we enforce a House’s law for them?” I asked casually, and everyone in the room looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. I winced. This was clearly a knight thing.

  “He has abandoned his people! It is an insult to the very core of what it means to be a knight.” Arthur spoke, his words carrying the weight of a judge condemning a man to death. Now I knew to look for it, I could feel the anger boiling off him.

  “I will remain and continue to do my best for the town until such time as I am taken for questioning.” Lucan was shaking behind me but held himself together to speak. Impressive, as even I, with all my training, would’ve found this room intimidating.

  “And left his squire to pick up the pieces! You know how that will be seen! They’ll blame him. This is an outrage!” That outburst came from Kay—I could actually hear her grinding her teeth.

  “You cannot be suggesting the Artoss would blame the man’s failings on his squire? Be at ease. Spendlove will find his comeuppance, I assure you, and Lucan will be known as the consummate darling he is. Or did you forget my last name?” Tristan spoke up for the first time, his voice leaning hard on his effete persona.

  “Everyone, please calm down. Your auras are flaring.” At my call, the group finally eased their anger. “Sir Lucan, as we explained last night, we deliberately don’t lean on our heritage. However, I do believe that I will spare you much concern if I introduce my colleague here. This is Tristan Artoss, of the main branch of the Artoss House of Renown.”

  “My Lord.” The butler’s eyes bugged out, and for the first time, I saw him falter as he fought between bowing and throwing himself to the floor to beg forgiveness. Thankfully, Tristan was quick to ease his worries, clapping him on the shoulder and raising him up.

  “None of that, you splendid man. I’m no lord here. Your conduct has been as flawless as it is mystifying. I cannot imagine how you learned to be so competent with that ogre looming over you. I have already reported back my displeasure with Sir Spendlove and my positive impression of yourself. Your master’s cowardice, and your willingness to face us despite it, only compound my belief in your skills.”

  “Thank you, my Lord—Sir Tristan.” Lucan looked on the verge of tears before he pulled himself together with a shaky breath.

  “In fact, I will be leaning on you heavily to solicit some advice on how best to resolve this dastardly act. I’m sure I can count on you to advise on his behaviour up till now and ensure any punishment suits him in ways his armour never managed?” Tristan’s voice was sweet, but there was murder in his eyes.

  “Yes, Sir. Of course.” Lucan still looked stressed, but now he looked more like a survivor of a battle hard-fought than a man standing before the gallows. Tristan excused himself and the butler, Kay joining them as well, standing supportively with the squire as they headed off to handle that fresh mess.

  Door closed, Gawain thumped the table to get our attention. “This complicates things.”

  “Why? It’s not like we were expecting anything from Spendlove.” I asked, genuinely confused. The rest of them turned to look at me like the second head I’d grown with my first gaffe had started to sing bawdy tavern songs.

  Lance snapped her fingers. “I forget you aren’t so read up on monsters.”

  “Not unless it’s essential to alchemy.” I replied, still confused.

  “Ah, now I understand the question. Despite Spendlove’s—”

  “Man’s a traitor, Gawain. You can insult the bastard.” Bors rumbled.

  “I’ll not sully my tongue over someone as unworthy as him. The issue is that even a ‘unique’ example of an Iron like Spendlove still radiates aura—enough that the beast would be able to sense his absence. With him gone—” Gawain paused meaningfully.

  “It’d know that there was no one capable of fighting it in town.” I filled in the rest. Now it all made sense.

  “Exactly. One of us will have to stay here. While I don’t expect it to sneak past us, it could happen, and then it’d be a disaster.”

  “Oh, well, that should obviously be Taliesin then.” Lancelot said, her intent flaring for a second. She cursed, reflexively apologising. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not? You’re right.” I nodded.

  “You would so willingly accept that?” Gawain looked surprised. Sephy, though, had a grin.

  “Another unexpected bonus of having a bard with us. No arguing about guard duty.” She said quietly.

  “Not a knight, remember! I’m not so worried about missing out on the dubious glory of killing some kind of fury serpent. I would only have joined you in the capacity of an audience. ’Tis a shame—I would’ve liked to have seen this mesmeric clucker.”

  “More like a mesmeric fuc—”

  “Bors, you are in company!” Gawain slapped him on the back of the head. The big man just laughed.

  “Should two of us stay? What if the beast comes for the town while we’re away?” Maeve asked. If it were Sephy, I could imagine it being part of the plot to sow word of a relationship. As it was, she was likely just being cautious. A single Iron-ranked beast was generally more dangerous than a single cultivator, unless that cultivator was both a gifted combatant and had a solid counter to the monster’s gift.

  I was neither of those things. So my head swivelled back to Gawain, who had his hand resting on his chin.

  “No. The beast hasn’t shown interest in what’s behind the walls of the town so far, and with Taliesin here, there should be no reason to change that. Besides, this is only for added security. If we approach this right, there should be little chance of it slipping past us in the first place. If we left someone else here, the beast would likely have more chance to get past us.” Gawain explained.

  “If I must spend a day or two in town, it is no loss. There is some alchemy I’ve been putting off, as well as my self-appointed task of spreading word of your exploits. With Lucan’s help, I may perhaps see if I can learn a bit about this little adventure our absentee ‘knight’ has undertaken.” I smiled.

  I made haste to escape and put the awkward shuffling that followed behind me. I made it out of the room, only to be yanked back as a hand caught my cloak. There, behind me, was Sephy, her eyes boring into mine.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”