Morgain's Revenge - Laura Anne Gilman [5]
“We need no cup to prove our worth! Least of all some cup that may not even exist!” Sir Lamorak said in disgust.
“Blasphemy!” Sir Galahad, normally the mildest of voices, shouted in outrage. He shoved his chair back across the stone floor as he stood up.
“Your blasphemy, maybe,” Lamorak said in response. “I am no Christian, to worship a man on a tree.”
The table erupted again, many voices competing against each other—not to be heard, but to drown the others out.
Through it all, Arthur sat in his grand chair at the Round Table. He leaned his bearded chin on his palm and watched intently as his knights shouted and swore and waved their arms to make their points. The din was almost unbearable. Gerard couldn’t help but wonder how the king was able to hear anything, much less his own thoughts.
“Sire, please.” Sir Kay, the king’s foster brother and Gerard’s uncle, spoke not in a shout, but a steady, even voice that carried to where the squires waited. “We must take action! One way or another, things must be decided. The Quest can be delayed no longer, else we look like fools and cowards.”
Sir Kay was wise, and the king depended on his advice, but even he couldn’t stop the shouting. Gerard decided it was never going to end. They would still be standing here—Arthur would still be listening to every viewpoint and opinion—when Gerard’s hair was as gray as his master’s, and nothing will have been decided. He couldn’t help but compare all this to the way he, Newt, and Ailis had worked together on their quest to break Morgain’s spell. They’d had differences, but they’d managed to do what needed to be done, without all this back and forth and back and forth with nobody listening to anyone else.
After some honest reflection, Gerard admitted that wasn’t entirely true. They had argued more often than not. But when things had to be done, they were done.
Was it because the three of them didn’t know enough to see other options? Or was it because they didn’t have the time to sit and argue about it? And why did Arthur not put an end to all of this arguing and make a decision already—he was the king!
A slight movement from his master caught his eye. Gerard stepped forward to kneel by Sir Rheynold’s chair, close enough to hear the murmured instructions.
“I was supposed to meet with the guardsmaster to discuss the Abmont estate levies, but there is no way that I will make that meeting as matters here stand. Tender him my regrets and ask him for a time of his convenience to reschedule.”
In the past, Gerard might have been dismayed at the thought of having to miss any of the knights’ discussions on a matter of such importance. Now he took the errand thankfully, aware of the envy of his fellow squires, still relegated to their posts on the off chance that their masters might need them as well.
“Take your time coming back, lad,” one of the guards in the hallway said when Gerard pushed open the smaller door to leave. “Sounds as though they’ll be at it for hours yet. Someone else can fetch your master his wine.”
“Truth in that, and they’ll need more wine, the way they’re talking,” another guard said with a laugh.
Gerard forced a smile at the comment, then turned and walked away. There was no great rush, true, but he would not malinger. That was the act of a raw page or a servant, not a squire. He would deliver Sir Rheynold’s message to the master of the guards and return, although he might find time to stop by the kitchen and sneak something to eat before he did so. He was dedicated, not foolish.
And maybe someone in the kitchen would be able to carry a message for him to Ailis and Newt, to see if there was some way the three of them could arrange to see each other. He thought of Ailis especially. They had known each other all the years they had lived in Camelot, since they were children, and it seemed strange to be separated now, after seven days spent entirely in her company.
In the hallway, Ailis watched with wide eyes as a woman crouched over a globe of some sort,