Chapter 3 [Training Courtyard—A Turn of the Hourglass Later]
Even as Diplomacy and Justice pressed on within Citadel's walls, Knights trained in courtyard below. Galahad coached them through Formations' movements. Swords clashed with Swords. Hand to Hand Combat Drills honed fighting skills. Discipline kept heads in their current surroundings.
Some more than others….
Britomart sheathed her sword hard into its scabbard. Frustration frothed inside of herself. She'd never chafed in Duty's service. She'd taken care as Mithian's chambermaid. She'd honed her craft. Passages, Chambers and Furnishings sparkled in Sol's light. Presentation and Taste never disappointed Rodor or Mithian. Equal Skill went into martial training. Before her promotion, she'd sparred with knights. She watched Josiane, Boeve, Ywain and even a certain Cabbage Head. Technique and Skill refined in turn.
Still, the other knights avoided her in drills. They'd rather engage their brothers. Even Galahad's order only brought half-hearted duels. Chauvinism and Prejudice hoped she'd go away to be someone's wife. She watched Josiane endure Attitude's unwelcome presence in her affairs as well. I'm just as good as any of them! Too bad if the girl gets the upper hand. We're supposed to have each other's backs! She waved toward a knight departing the area. "Sir Randolph!" She took a few steps toward him.
Randolph ignored her. He pressed on toward the door. His eyes looked this way and that for any excuse.
Gawain cut Randolph off steps from the door. "Hey, Randy! What's your hurry? Lady asked you to spar. Galahad wants us to spar. She's a knight like the rest of us." Irreverence quirked an eyebrow. He ran his gloved palm over Blade's edge. "You don't have a problem, do you?" Cough escaped his lips.
"Gawain, you don't get it." Randolph curled his lip. Rock and Hard Place both pressed down on him. Despite his desire to avoid fighting a woman, Gawain wasn't his choice for sparring partner either. "She's…well…"
"She's what?" Gawain motioned with his hand. "Come on, Randy. Out with it. Brit's what?"
"Well…you know…." Randolph noticed her standing not three steps behind him at this point. "You can see…she's a girl. I am not fighting her! It is not right!" He narrowed his eyes. "And why you defending her?" He pointed over his shoulder at her. "This one's constantly nagging you. Hey! You're whipped!" He laughed. "She's whipped you! No wonder!"
She wrenched Randolph's hand behind his back. Boot went right in the small of his back. She pressed him into the mud. "And I just whipped you!" Sarcasm's scoff grated against his ears. "It is about time your surcoat saw some mud for a change." She raised an eyebrow at Gawain. "I nag because our Prince and Princess care about you for some reason, Sir Windbag. I do not know why. You swagger on the battlefield. You drink like a fish in the tavern."
Gawain rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You keep dreaming, Brit." He pulled his poker face ever tighter over his face. Truth was Randolph's assessment had hit Bullseye. He did admire the Fire Hair. Much as Merlin had, she kept house in citadel or battlefield, fought alongside the boys and held her own. Scars creased her side and shoulder. She'd saved his life (and never let him forget it either). She'd appointed herself his personal nanny for some reason.
"Not you too!" She released her grip on Randolph. She motioned for him to get lost. Still, she wasn't about to back down to Gawain either. "And here I thought you were actually acting like a comrade."
Gawain shook his head. "Hey! I stood up for you! You're decent with that sword when your head's in the fight. You sure don't have anything to prove to me!" He drew his sword. "I'm not afraid to spar with you, Lady." He motioned with his free hand. "Come on. Randy, I'm not. I'll even give you the first move." He figured on a couple of crossed sword maneuvers and little else to show her merit.
Mithianesque Snort served as her reply. Right Hand seized his Left. Her Left Arm snaked around his waist. Passionate Lips pressed down on his. Amor flowed into him.
Instinct guided Gawain's response in equal way. Passion drowned out Conscious Banter and Thought. His arms pulled her toward himself. Lips pushed back harder against hers. World fell away. Surrounding Knights, Kingdom and even Britannia itself ceased to exist for him. Wenches' and Tavern's Siren Call fell silent. World seemed to careen off of its axis.
She pushed him back to arm's length. Sauciness spread its smirk across her face. "I thought so. I've limed you!"
"You what?" Protest evoked several loud guffaws from Gawain. "Lady, I've kissed a lot of ladies. I've got too much love for just one." Deflection forced Cough to cover his stumbles on dirt underfoot. Crimson streaked his cheeks. "Think what you want."
"Limed, Uncle," Josiane chimed in.
"She would be good for you, Gawain." Ywain nudged up against him in passing. Approval elicited a nod toward Britomart. "The King would look favorably…."
"Hey, Y-Whine! Get!" Gawain narrowed his eyes. Dirty Look stabbed into Ywain's eyes. His lip curled. "Hey, Prince Merlin! Tell him!"
Merlin shook his head. He'd witnessed the entire scene from the doorway. Mischief's twinkle sparkled in his eye. "Tell him what, Gawain? Seems like Britomart had everything well under control out here. King Rodor is about to speak with Sir Randolph about his attitude toward her. Perhaps Princess Mithian and I should tell him about what happened out here?"
Gawain's eyes narrowed. "You're supposed to be my best mate! Come on, Your Princiness! You can't do that!" He threw his hands up in the air. "She's so bossy! She wants to stop my drinking! She…."
"I want you to grow up, Sir Windbag! Is that such a bad thing? You do have your more redeeming qualities. I see them occasionally! Besides, you kissed me back." Her index finger jabbed right into his chest. "As Josiane and I just said, you're limed." She bowed to Merlin. "My apologies, my Prince."
"As you were." Merlin regarded the situation. "I need you both to prepare. Josiane, you as well. We leave at First Light. First though, I think Princess Mithian will want to talk with us." Satisfaction warmed him through and through. He and Mithian had wanted to find such an opening. Opportunity had just opened that door…wide…
"Your Princiness, really?" Gawain recoiled akin to School Child of a future age dreading visit to Principal's Office. Taverns remained to be visited. Adventures awaited him. Tankards of Ale had to be emptied. The last thing he would admit that he wanted was a permanent nanny. Still, Amor's nagging warmth wouldn't leave him alone.
"My Prince. If we're leaving at First Light, I cannot disturb her with…." Britomart disagreed.
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "The Princess will want to be interrupted for this." Gotcha Smirk spread further across his face. "It's time we all settled down anyhow. I have my witnesses. Face it, Gawain. It's time."
"Oh yeah? Like you have all of those rough edges Mith keeps going on about? Okay, Merlin. Whatever. I…." Gawain recoiled from Britomart's backhand. "HEY! QUIT IT!"
"And you wonder why you need a good woman to watch you? May the goddess give me strength! Prince Merlin, lead the way to the Princess please. I would see Milady on this matter if she has time." Britomart dragged Gawain toward the door. "Come along NOW!"
Merlin sucked in a deep breath. Despite Quarrels and Banter, he and Mithian knew that Gawain and Britomart cared about each other in their own way. He also recalled Rodor wanted an end to Gawain's carousing at some point.
Multiple Birds downed with single bowshot. Mithian would be impressed.
Sometimes that was all that even an insecure Prince needed….
