Lady Knight by L J Baker Page B

properties does this sword have that you kept from me?”
    “I made no secret of it being blessed,” Aveline said. “A gift from the Goddess.
You didn’t expect it to be something plucked from any old smithy? Or bought for
a few shillings at a small town fair? It’s the weapon worthy of being wielded in
the service of the Goddess. As for special properties, you know it keeps you
alive. You seem to have no qualms about benefiting from that.”
    “You’d have me inflict such wounds on another. I will not do it.”
    Aveline lifted a hand to Riannon’s face. Riannon caught her wrist and stopped
her fingers short of touching her scar.
    “You’re hurting me,” Aveline said.
    “Choose another for whatever you design. I cannot and will not use that sword.”
    “What of your oath?”
    “It was given in ignorance,” Riannon said. “You deliberately withheld from me
the true nature of what you gave me. Such an oath is not binding.”
    “You’ve taken to study of the law? You do surprise me. I did not think you knew
your letters.”
    Riannon wrenched Aveline’s wrist down. Aveline winced and lost all pretence at
amusement.
    “You’ve been granted one of the Goddess’s rare gifts,” Aveline said. “It’ll help
you against her enemies. Most would fall over themselves to get some advantage
over their opponents. You have it. You’ll need it.”
    Riannon released her as if she found herself holding a serpent. “My honour is
not for sale. No matter what else you coerce from me, you mistake the matter
entirely if you think you have that bought and paid for.”
    Aveline rubbed her wrist, though she kept her gaze up on Riannon’s face. “How is
it honourable to let someone kill you when you have the means at hand of killing
him first?”
    “I do not expect you, of all people, to understand.”
    “I know you mean that as an insult, yet I take it otherwise when you talk of
such illogical ideas that are against all good sense. So, it’s probably for the
best that you are what you are, cousin, and I am a creature entirely different.
Tell me, does this mean that you forswear your oath of service? What of the debt
you owe?”
    That was the crux of her dilemma. Her obligation went well beyond merely
swinging a particular weapon. Her commitment had been to serve the Goddess
against her enemies. Despite her burning sense of betrayal by Aveline, Riannon
had given her vow to the Goddess, not the priestess. She scowled down at the
sword.
    “I’ll not use that,” Riannon said.
    Aveline bent to pick up the sheathed sword. She offered it back to Riannon.
“There will be a time when you will need it.”
    “No.”
    Aveline shrugged. “You need to carry it. You cannot leave it in this field.”
    There was the burr under the saddle. Riannon snatched the sword from Aveline’s
hands.
    “You know nought of honour,” Riannon said. “But your divine mistress must. It’s
in that I place my trust. Not you.”

    Later that afternoon, Eleanor slipped out of the noisy hall as soon as she
politely could. Lord and Lady Woodfort entertained the queen’s sister. Eleanor
knew them little. Her retinue found welcome at their castle because of the naer.
Normally she would have considered that all the greater obligation to make
herself agreeable and entertaining, and to acquire new acquaintance. Today she
needed to find Riannon.
    A servant moved aside as Eleanor stepped out of the side door and into a passage
that led to the tower chambers and the solar. Which way might Riannon have gone?
    Eleanor had been delighted with Riannon’s unexpected return at noon, but
whatever passed between Riannon and her cousin left her stony and
uncommunicative all afternoon. The most number of words she had strung together
had been to apologise for being poor company.
    Eleanor pushed another door open and emerged into the bustling bailey. With no
breath of wind this summer evening, smoke from the busy kitchen building hung
thickly between the castle walls.