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

a war.
    â€œWhat is God’s name is this!”
    Every head turned. Relief poured through Lynet. Lord Kenan, the Steward of Cambryn, strode into the hall. He was a tall man, square and broad. His great sword slapped at his hip with each step. Laurel and Colan both hurried behind him, and behind them came a host of familiar faces; Hale, their granite-grey Captain, his wiry son Lock, and a dozen men at arms, men she had known since childhood and who had followed her father on every campaign only to come back again with new scars and new tales. Lynet was seized with the desire to leap from the dais and take shelter behind their backs, and their blades.
    â€œAnd here comes the one who sired these pups,” muttered Mesek.
    Lynet ignored him. She moved out from behind the table to make a deep courtesy to her father. “God be praised for your safe return, Lord Father,” she murmured.
    Father rested his hand briefly on her head in blessing, then tilted her chin up, studying her for signs of hurt or fear. If his wife and eldest children were of the sea, Kenan was of the earth. He was solid and craggy as the cliffs and the standing stones, with brown hair, brown beard, brown skin, brown eyes, and hands strong enough to lift a boulder the size of a man’s head and hurl it thirty paces. “And glad I am to be home, Lynet,” he murmured softly. “I’m sorry you were left to bear this much more.
    â€œMesek! Peran!” Father raised his voice to carry past her. Lynet, quickly and gratefully slipped aside to take her place next to Laurel. She did not dare glance at Colan.
    â€œI am told there exists some quarrel between you,” their father boomed as he looked from one of the chieftains to the other.
    Hearing this blunt understatement seemed to rob both men of their voices. Belatedly, they remembered they owed the steward at least the sign of their obeisance, and both bowed.
    â€œWhat’s the news from Tintagel?” breathed Lynet to Laurel. Father’s hands were on his hips, and she could read nothing but annoyance in his stance.
    Laurel shook her head minutely and Lynet swallowed a curse. King Mark had been unmoved by the pleas of his lords. He would not break from his self-made cloister.
    â€œAye, a quarrel there is,” said Mesek as he straightened from his bow. “And we were promised we would be heard in all fairness.” He stared daggers at Colan, who seemed not to notice.
    â€œThat you shall. Clear the hall!” Father called to his men. The men Mesek and Peran had brought with them hesitated, but the men of Cambryn spread out at their steward’s word. Captain Hale moved about the hall, politely but persistently herding those who did not move quickly enough toward the door, reminding some of their work, mentioning to others that they should stay close to Mesek’s folk, or to Peran’s, to prevent mischief. Lynet’s heart was weak with relief. It felt as if after a full day on a storm-tossed sea she stood firm and safe on land again.
    â€œYou stay with us, Bishop,” said father as Austell too moved to go. “It may be we need to hear God’s word in this matter.”
    The bishop bowed his head in assent, and moved to the end of the table.
    â€œAnd Colan?” whispered Lynet to Laurel. But she was not quiet enough, for their brother turned toward her, his glance knowing, hopeful, assured. She bent her lips into a smile for him, and could only pray he did not see it was false.
    â€œOur brother greets our father with all joy,” murmured Laurel.
    Captain Hale closed the doors with a resounding thump. He and his son Lock flanked the portals while the others ranged themselves about the hall. The fact of their isolation descended onto Peran and Mesek, and that brought a return to proper manners. In movements so perfectly matched they might have been part of a ritual mass, the chieftains descended the dais steps, one on each side,