Risa by Sarah Zettel

Author:Sarah Zettel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2019-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

As Gawain, Risa and their companions approached Camelot, the road grew ever more crowded, even as it ran through the deep woods. Carters and folk carrying their bundles on their backs moved off the wide highway to let their procession pass, but no one cursed. Instead, heads were raised and hoods were doffèd. Cheers went up at the sight of the knights and soldiers, accompanied by cries of “God bless Lord Gawain! God bless Lord Agravain!”

Agravain just nodded, his face growing ever more pinched. Gawain responded always with his magnificent smile and a wave of his hand to all who called out. Risa felt her head lift and her shoulders pull back as she looked this way and that at the people thronging the side of the road. She felt a great lady on her horse beside her lord with all the town come out to see them pass by.

Agravain had not only been displeased when Gawain caught up with the party returning to Arthur, he had been livid. The brothers had gone down the road out of earshot, but Risa and the dozen men, and all the boys and squires who waited on them, could easily see them gesturing broadly and angrily to each other as they spoke. When they at last returned, Agravain was still flushed with his fury. Gawain, however, looked completely at ease as he mounted his riding horse and gave a reassuring smile to Risa.

Agravain had not spoken another word to his brother, at least none that any could hear. Even when they stopped for the night at the Monastery of St. Joseph, Agravain remained as silent as one of the monks who served them their plain supper of soup and bread.

Gawain was also distant, but not from anger. As soon as they had joined Agravain’s men, he became his most courtly and correct, treating her with rigid deference and respect. She knew he did it for her sake, so that the other men would follow his example, regardless of Agravain’s distaste for her presence. Still, it made her wish they had traveled alone, so they could have talked, and sung, and enjoyed themselves as lovers for a little longer, before they reached the court, and all things would have to change again.

Still, sometimes Gawain would glance at her, and she would see the delight that shimmered just beneath his gaze, and was content.

Ahead of the party, the encroaching trees pulled back to make way for sown fields, and Risa saw Camelot.

It was built on a hill, as she had heard, with Arthur’s great hall at its crown. But none had spoken of how the great town spilled down the sides of that hill, flaring out like a woman’s skirt, the roofs of the good stone houses all black and red with slate and tile. Stout walls and banks of earth protected the city. The gates were all guarded by men in leather jerkins emblazoned with Arthur’s red dragon. They cheered as heartily as the folk on the road and lifted up their spears and pikes in salute to the victorious company.

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