Camelot's Blood Read Online Free Page A

dragon, was also not to be lightly passed over.
    It was high summer and all the bounty of the season was brought forth to the table to the flourish of pipe and drum. Laurel had lived before at the court, and her home was a rich one, but she had never seen such a meal. She had not thought herself to have much appetite, but was soon tempted into tasting each dish that passed her. There was partridge boiled in wine and vinegar and hare stuffed with nuts and pine kernels. The puree of lettuce and onions accompanied a dish of lentils and chestnuts flavored so strongly with cinnamon and pepper that Laurel’s eyes began to water. There was also roasted suckling pig, a patina of elderberries, and a wealth of risen breads for sopping the gravies and jellies. All this was followed by honey omelets and honey cakes. Ciders, wines and ales were poured out fresh with each remove.
    Lady Risa proved a good table companion. She spoke of small, light matters to which Laurel could give easy reply. They talked of the excellent food and wines, the rigours of the journey, of Laurel’s time in Camelot as a waiting woman and how it compared with Risa’s own. From the sound of it, little had changed. The queen remained a good, if exacting, mistress, and treated her ladies with the honour due to their various ranks, but one could still find oneself surrounded by more cackling hens than one might like.
    Risa’s conversation was as welcome to Laurel as her own unexpected appetite had been. The two combined to keep her from casting too many glances towards the end of the table where the lords and knights sat, trying to see Sir Agravain. What attempts she did make proved all in vain. The profiles of the queen, the king and Sir Gawain sheltered her betrothed from her inquisitive, and somewhat furtive, gaze. She could see nothing except a lean brown hand and a green sleeve reaching occasionally for his cup or portion of food.
    Maddening
. Despite the sweetness of the cakes, Laurel felt her mouth pucker tartly.
    A shrill twitter caught her ear. Laurel became quickly and unpleasantly aware that down the length of the tables, members of the beauteous flock of noble ladies smirked and nudged one another, making certain she knew they shared the joke made of her expression. Laurel’s jaw tightened, which only produced more smiles and winks from those nearest. They touched and nudged their companions to make sure this further bit of humour traveled the length of the high table and back again. Someone let loose a fresh, trilling laugh and Laurel winced as if it pricked her skin. Risa alone maintained her countenance, although a knowing light shone in her eyes. Laurel tried not to let this evidence of suppressed humour deepen her rancour. It was at least better than the poorly smothered laughter further down the table.
    With the feast now reduced to bones, rinds and crumbs, Laurel hoped, more than a little desperately, that the tables would all be cleared for the entertainment to begin in earnest. The revelers would divert at least some attention from her. She cast about quicklyfor a new conversation topic to raise with Risa. But before she lit on anything, fresh movement turned everyone’s attention to the centre of the high table. Sir Kai was climbing slowly to his feet. Leaning hard on his crutch, he raised his gilded cup high.
    â€œWith the permission of our king and queen,” he bowed humbly in their direction, “let me now offer up a toast to Sir Agravain and Lady Laurel.”
    Even as the cheer reverberated through the hall from all assembled. Laurel’s heart sank through the floor.
    How did I forget this?
    No great occasion, nor any light one, passed without Sir Kai making a sport of it. His barbs and skewers had reduced more than one proud reputation to a nine-days’ joke. Laurel had believed herself well-prepared for her return to court, but her careful mind had not let her consider this tiny detail. Sir Kai was