Read Online Under Camelot's Banner by Sarah Zettel - Free Book Online Page A

himself.” Mesek’s grin spread out as broadly as his reach. “But no, it was from someone else you learned all your ways, was it not, my lady?”
    God have mercy.
Lynet flinched as if she had been struck. She could hear Peran’s hard, ragged breathing, but she did not dare turn toward him.
    â€œIt does not suit with your honor to insult the blameless lady of the house, Master Mesek,” said Bishop Austell coldly.
    â€œOh, I would not worry, your eminence.” Mesek leaned back, crossing his ankles beneath the table and his arms across his chest. “From what I have heard, it has been a long time since honor entered here.”
    â€œYou certainly brought none with you,” grated Peran.
    â€œNow then, now then, Peran.” Mesek waggled one thick, dirty finger at the other man. “You’ve settled your quarrel. Wait in patience for the judgment you bought.”
    â€œMesek,” Peran’s voice was so low and so hoarse, he barely sounded human. “Do you accuse me?”
    â€œAccuse you!” Mesek let out a bark of angry laughter. “Aye, I accuse you. Your son’s death has driven that weak mind of yours madder than old king Mark. You know you’re a liar, but you won’t accept the consequences. You must recruit a boy too drunk with his own little power too …”
    But Peran was already on his feet, his hand closing around the table knife. Before she had time to think on what she did, Lynet dodged sideways, putting herself him and Mesek.
    â€œFor shame, Master Peran!” cried Bishop Austell who was also on his feet. “Would you break the laws of God and man?”
    The hall around them had gone still. Her people and her father’s men filled this place. All of them would be at her side as quick as man could move, but at that moment the gulf between her and them seemed wider than the sea. Every line of Peran’s wiry form said he was ready to strike. His chest heaved hard with the force of his rage. Behind her, Mesek just grinned.
    â€œMaster Peran, you will put down that knife,” Lynet said, her voice low, her hands gripping the crock she carried so tightly she feared for one ludicrous moment she might shatter it. “You will not break the law here and lose all hope of judgment.”
    It was his good hand that clutched the knife and held it ready a handspan above the table. His wounded hand flexed, also ready, to block or to shove, or to hold. “I will not be insulted by the man who murdered my son!”
    She did not know what strength kept her there, but she held her place. “Nor will you turn murderer in front of witnesses.”
Mother of Mercy, keep Mesek silent.
“You will not become what you hate.”
    She watched her words sink into him, watched the anger and hatred on his face shift to unwanted understanding. Then, slowly, as if it took all his strength, Peran loosened his grip on the knife. It clattered onto the board.
    â€œWell done, my lady,” snickered Mesek. “But then, you’ve learned well how to charm a man, haven’t you?”
    Lynet rounded on Mesek, patience, shame and fear all gone. “Say what you will to me and of me, Mesek Kynhoem. It is no more than I deserve. But you will not break the peace of this house!”
    â€œPeace.” Mesek stuck his thumbs in his belt and spat out the word. “How much we hear of peace these days. Mark’s peace. Arthur’s peace. The whole of Dumonii united in a great peace with those pirates of Eire. Peace is a woman’s skirt to hide behind while men take up a knife and poison against those they cannot defeat in a fair fight. Meantimes, our lords and their dogs stand about and say how great this peace is that spreads so wide.”
    Peran’s breath rasped hard in his wounded throat. The blood drained from Lynet’s face and hands. Peran might have come here ready to buy his vengeance, but Mesek came ready to start