Gawain Read Online Free Page A

reached the entrance, Gawain halted. “Sire,” he said. “A favor, if you would.”
    “Good God, do you think I would refuse you anything?” The king shot Aislyn a look of deepest disgust. “Name it and it is yours.”
    Aislyn’s stiff fingers clenched on the reins. What was this? Had Gawain thought of a way out? Or did he only mean to be rewarded for his sacrifice?
    Impossible to tell from his face. When had he become so adept at concealing his thoughts? “Then I would ask that you do not disclose to anyone what has befallen us today, save that you succeeded in your quest.”
    “Not disclose —? But—but how else to explain—” Arthur broke off abruptly. “Yes, all right. Whatever you like.” And for the first time since they’d set out, he smiled.
    Aislyn eyed Gawain suspiciously as they entered the courtyard. What was he up to? Was he going to attempt to buy her off? Have her banished? Wring her neck and stuff her down the well?
    “Arthur!”
    For the first time, Aislyn noticed a young woman sitting on a bench beside the castle wall. She leapt to her feet, the book she had been reading falling from her hands.
    Raven hair waved softly about the pure oval of her face and her eyes were luminous between starry lashes as she ran to the king as though she meant to throw herself into his arms. Two paces from him, she halted, blushing—like a rose, Aislyn thought, a stab of bitter envy piercing her heart—and, taking her trailing skirts in her slender white hands, sank gracefully to the flagstones.
    “My lord,” she said formally. “I was—it is good to have you back.”
    The king, who had started toward her, halted, his arms falling stiffly to his sides. “Guin—my lady,” Arthur corrected himself quickly. “How kind of you to wait for me.”
    “It was no trouble,” Queen Guinevere replied.
    What was the matter with these people? Aislyn wondered, staring from the king to the queen. Did they always act like two villagers in a bad pageant, or only when others were there to see?
    Gawain swung himself from Gringolet.
    “My queen,” he said with frosty courtesy, going down upon one knee.
    Guinevere wrested her gaze from the king to the golden-haired knight kneeling before her. “Sir Gawain,” she said with all the enthusiasm of a woman presented with a posy of dead blossoms. “So you are back, as well.”
    Aislyn’s gaze sharpened. Either the two of you detest each other, she thought, or you’re putting on a very good show. I wonder which it is?
    “Yes,” Gawain said, rising and turning to help Aislyn from her horse. She groaned as her feet hit the ground and Gawain, surprising her, handed her the staff strapped to her saddle. “May I present . . . ?”
    Only then did Aislyn realize that no one had bothered to ask her name. “Dame . . . Ragnelle,” she croaked, using that of a demon in a pageant she’d once seen.
    Guinevere backed up a step, raising one trailing sleeve to her nose, her lovely face twisted with disgust. “What do you mean by bringing this—this—”
    “Guinevere,” Arthur began, “let me explain. You see—” He broke off, obviously remembering his promise. “We can talk about this later,” he finished lamely.
    They were up to something. Gawain had a plan—of course he did, Aislyn should have known victory could never be so easy. He meant to—to imprison her. Of course! She should have thought of that before. Toss her into some dark dungeon, lock the door, and throw the key into the river—
    “Dame Ragnelle and I are to be wed,” Gawain said. “Today, if possible.”
    Guinevere’s pink lips parted in astonishment. Arthur rounded on Gawain, anger and amazement warring on his face.
    “These young men!” Aislyn cackled, hobbling forward to rest a claw on Gawain’s arm. “Think a wedding feast can be conjured from the air! Me and you know better, don’t we, Your Grace? But don’t bother yourself, whatever you can manage will suit me well enough. Let’s face