51 Chapter 51

Tristan could see the resentment seethed through Arthur as he looked up at the amused killer his so-called slave had become. There was a new edge to Kation, a hardness… an implacability that was making Arthur nervous. But the half-Roman didn't let that stop him from getting to his feet and dismissing them curtly.

"I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow, after I've thought things over." He said. Taking that as their indirect cue to leave, Tristan and Kat turned as one and strode out.

"I think that's enough grief for one day," he whispered to her as they headed for the stables. They'd inevitably run into the knights and have to face endless, repetitive interrogations. Unless they could devise a way of avoiding them the entire evening. Grabbing Kat's arm, he hauled her into the hall of the Round Table (because the way Arthur spoke, certain things were really that important) and held a finger to his lips.

"What?" she hissed, eyes darting, clearly expecting something bad.

"Knights. Irritating questions. Boring evening." He explained, shrugging.

Kat sighed and relaxed against the wall, letting her head tip back. "Okay… how do you feel about a spot of climbing? If you are, I can get us to Vanora's kitchen unseen."

"Sure," he replied.

How hard could it be?

(Several minutes later…)

"Jump!" she hissed, standing completely nonchalantly on the very edge of the roof and wearing a broad grin.

She was taking far too much enjoyment in this.

Tristan peered down at the alley below and suppressed the urge to swallow. Taking a few steps back, he solemnly vowed that if he survived, he would only climb trees hereafter. Then, with a skip and a desperate prayer, he flung himself over the void and slammed inelegantly onto the roof tiles beside Kat, who had neatly side-stepped to avoid being flattened. She helped him to his feet and ran over the roof to the next building. "You go first this time," she said, pointing at the tavern's roof.

He glared down at her, and she arched an eyebrow back at him. "We could always climb down now and walk around…" she said, a glint in her eye. "No shame in it."

That did it. Turning back to his target, he jumped and made a far better landing. He wobbled slightly, but Kat was at his side and hauling him forwards to restore his balance. "Bravo," she drawled. "I'll make a squirrel out of you yet."

He shoved at her, knowing that her inhuman balance would save her. She stumbled back, dancing along the gutter with a wicked grin. "Let's just get to the kitchen," he muttered, stalking over the roof to where the smoking chimney indicated the giant oven of the single-floor kitchen. Kat ambled after him and bounded to the kitchen roof and then swung herself over the lip and onto the ground in one fluid movement. Damn her. He followed more cautiously and consoled his pride with the knowledge that Kat had been climbing every single rooftop since practically her first day. Of course she'd know how many steps it took to get to any single place.

They entered the kitchen and were immediately thrown into the chaotic current of a working tavern. Kat was handed a knife and a basket of vegetables while he was carefully avoided, but tacitly made to understand that he was very much in the way unless he offered to help. So he obediently started carving meat off the pig that was being roasted on the spit. Anything to avoid the blatant stares and cautious questioning from the other knights. Eventually, Brenna and Verica determined that they had done enough work to earn their dinner and pushed them into one of the storage rooms with plates bearing mountains of piping hot food.

Kat sighed contentedly as she inhaled the rich aroma of gravy over meat, vegetables and freshly baked bread. "I've missed this," she murmured, turning all her attention to the food. Tristan, knowing that she probably hadn't eaten all day, left her to it and took the time to scrutinise her new weapons.

A brace of throwing knives sitting between her wide sash and kidney belt, three dirks (two strapped to the small of her back and the third on her right thigh) and a short sword slung across her shoulders. If someone gave her a bow and put her on Sarakos with some decent armour, she would be a one-woman army.

"Why so many weapons?" he finally asked.

Kat shrugged, "I don't normally wear them all at once. It was just while travelling that I expected trouble."

"And did you find any?"

"Surprisingly, no," she frowned. "Arthur might not contact the Batavians," she added. "That whole 'I'll-think-about-it' speech may have fooled a deaf moron, but that's hardly going to wash with us."

"And if the Batavians aren't contacted, or refuse the invitation?" he asked, already knowing of several scenarios.

"Nothing good," Kat sighed, echoing his own sentiments. "The thought of it makes me want to evacuate the women and children right now."

"Unless we find the ringleaders and make an example of them," Tristan suggested.

Kat nodded, then frowned and shook her head. "Unless you already know who they are, then there isn't the time—things have progressed so far already that they could strike at any time."

"I thought they'd wait until the governor arrived for his inspection. That was what Kahedin told us."

"So the others know about the plans?"

"Yes… Arthur told them all after we got Kahedin safely back inside the barracks. Needless to say they weren't very happy about being kept in the dark. Or about what is planned."

Kat looked thoughtful. "That's why the Batavians—incorruptible at this late stage of the plan—would be such a good deterrent. The conspirators might abandon the plan altogether if it looks like it won't work."

Tristan could see the logic in this, but that didn't mean he had to like it. With the food finished, he resolved to check on the other knights, firstly by walking out through the tavern before looking in on Kahedin discuss the Batavians' possible involvement.

"Will you come to see Kahedin?" he asked.

"Sure, but I've also got to see Vanora and make sure her baby has ten fingers and ten toes," she didn't look excited about the idea. Tristan could sympathise—babies were very boring to everyone but their parents.

"Will it take long?" he asked.

"Hmph, it can wait until tomorrow. And I won't be gone long if my stern master demands that I make it quick," she replied, winking at him as she turned and went back into the kitchen to wash her plate and spoon in the tub. He followed suit and soon they were stepping out into the main tavern space together. Kat paused and half-turned towards him. He looked down at her and felt a twinge of horror when he saw her eyes flick to the eaves for a moment. She caught his sentiment and grinned before clasping her hands behind her back and turning away to stroll through the crowd towards the barracks.

The way she pushed the limits was infuriating. If it had been anyone else, he would have been amused and possibly even aided her, but the way that she teased him made him long to retaliate. An abuse of his fabricated authority would be crude and ultimately futile since she'd get him back in private. But…

A truly wicked thought overtook his mind, and it would certainly teach her a lesson.

Lengthening his stride he easily caught up with her and without warning grabbed her hand and just held it as they walked along. His gaze flicked left and right, cataloguing the various knights and what they were doing. At his side a dreadful silence emanated from Kat until, finally, she broke it with every evidence of deadly calm. "What does this mean?" she asked through gritted teeth, swinging her captured hand slightly.

"Hmm? Oh, just feeding the rumour mill," Tristan said lightly, squeezing her cold fingers gently and tugging her nearer with a very affable smile.

"To what end and audience?" she said, trying to pull away.

Tristan tightened his grip and kept her close. "Spies are everywhere," he argued, leaning down slightly as if saying something intimate. "You know that better than anyone."

"That's an excuse and an obvious one too," she replied tartly. "If they think we are important to each other—"

"Aha!"

Oh no…

Gawain and Galahad had appeared—they should have been preoccupied, but clearly the gods were out to punish Tristan because they were alert and curious for some inexplicable reason. Gawain rushed over to Kat and yanked her away from Tristan, pulling her into a harshly whispered conversation of a brotherly nature.

At least Tristan hoped it was brotherly…

Galahad's face was a picture of disapproval, and for once Tristan shared his sentiment. He nodded to the younger man and then nudged Gawain to prevent him from lecturing Kation on… whatever it was that had infected his mind this time. This done, they were able to form a more amiable looking group. "Welcome back," Galahad said stiffly to Kat, who nodded back at him. "Gawain's sober…ish." He added, smiling slightly as Gawain's attention drifted back to Brenna.

"I am not!" Gawain said, outraged and too inebriated to notice what he'd just said.

Kat's mouth twitched, but otherwise gave no hint of her amusement. "Gawain, displays of affection are important, but only on special occasions," she said. "Do not talk to Brenna tonight unless you want her to hit you in the face with a pan."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure his chances survive to be massacred another day," Galahad said cheerfully.

"But this is important!" Gawain hissed, remembering to keep his voice down. "It's not like Brenna will always be unattached, you know."

"I think she'll still be a free woman in the morning, Gawain," Tristan said, sidling closer and laying a not-so-light grasp on his friend's shoulder. "Time to go," he added seriously. Galahad nodded and wandered off to join the twins, leaving Tristan and Kat to drag Gawain off to his room.

"I'll tell Kahedin about the Batavians if you get Gawain into bed," Kat said.

"Just what are you implying by that?!" Gawain yelped, trying to pull away. However Tristan's grip was unrelenting and he was borne up the stairs with little effort.

"Understood. Keep it short."

"Just let me get rid of all these weapons, first," she muttered, detaching herself from Gawain and slipping into their room.

He knew that Kahedin had been bored trapped in his room. Nothing had happened, but at least he wasn't in the infirmary—then he'd have been under the watchful tyranny of an orderly or medicus at all times. Someone would have inevitably reached him of Kat's return and he knew Kahedin would be expecting a visit from them. He might have ventured out to find them, if the thought of Dagonet catching him on unsanctioned leave from his bed hadn't been contemplated…

After forcing Gawain into bed and growling some bloodcurdling threats into his ear to make him stay there, he went to Kahedin's room. Seeing the pair of ex-captives together, he was able to see that Kat's bruises seemed much better than Kahedin's, in fact they were barely there. He would have to ask her about that later.

But now wasn't the time—the look on Kahedin's face told him that Kat had already outlined the Batavian contingency and it had not been received well.

"No way," he was saying. "It's a good idea in theory but if those Germans were invited to the party, then there will be two wars instead of one—there is a very long and very bitter history between the two cavalry units."

Kation scowled. "It looks like I'm going to have to force you all to work together—and if that means heinous coercion, then so be it," she sighed, letting her head drop into her hands. She looked very tired indeed.

Kahedin shot Tristan an inquiring look, but he just shrugged and straightened, opening the door. "Right, well we'll talk more tomorrow. I'm going to sleep." He said curtly and gestured for Kat to follow him. After a final smile for Kahedin she got to her feet and patted his leg.

"Just yell if you need anything," she said softly.

Once in their room, Tristan contemplated barricading the door, but decided against it. They may have been tired, but they could still deal with anyone coming through that door. They began their night-time rituals, undressing and divesting themselves of their secreted weaponry.

In the silence, Kation's piercing gaze caught something in his demeanour. "Something you want to say?" she asked.

"No." It had been said a little too quickly and they both knew it. In truth, he was just so glad to have her back he almost wanted to tell her so. But that would have been meaningless.

"It's not okay, but I understand if you…" she paused, not looking at him. "Never mind, I'll just go."

"What?" now he was thoroughly confused.

"I'm not stupid—you are uncomfortable with this change in status. I saw how much you disliked saying I was your equal to Arthur." She murmured, already gathering up her stuff and hastily stuffing it into a bundle made from her cloak. "So I'll just go sleep somewhere else."

He crossed the room and caught her by the shoulders, staring down into her face. She looked angry but defiant.

"Why? What are you talking about?" he asked, thoroughly bewildered.

"I'm not going to change who I am or how I do things just because a bunch of self-important moronic men are uncomfortable with a powerful woman in their midst—even if I am in disguise," she added, then mouthed something that Tristan couldn't quite make out in the gloom caste by the single lamp in the room.

"I'm not uncomfortable about that," he said simply. "Really, I think it's good—if you were a crying, helpless girl I'd have made you Vanora's problem a long time ago. No, in fact I think we'd have both died in the woods during that first encounter."

Kat smiled wanly, but didn't say anything.

"Besides, I am beginning to realise just how important you are," he added, feeling that he had to rescue the situation. "I was not myself when you disappeared."

She shot him a searching look. "How so?"

"I was…" he searched for the right word. The word that would encapsulate the enormity of his feelings. "Lost in worry."

"Oh," she said softly, sounding a little surprised.

"You are my equal, Kat," he said, wishing he could make her believe it. "You are the equal of anyone you care to name in this entire world."

"Swallowing Arthur's ideology, are we?" she grinned.

"With enough repetition and conviction, and when applied to a worthy cause, it started to make some sense," he admitted grudgingly. "But I'm still not including the Batavians," he added haughtily.

Kat laughed and dropped her bundle before snaking her arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug. "Incorrigible," she muttered. He returned the hug for the briefest moment, savouring her presence, before they broke apart and went to bed. They didn't say a word, but it didn't matter. The tension had been replaced by a familiar, comfortable quietness.

Things were back to normal.

~oOo~

"Aaarrghfffcckkkkiinffk!" Thud! Clang!

As I jolted awake, I realised that it was the unmistakeable sound of Gawain toe-punting something heavy or hard in the dark.

I sighed, stretched and felt Tristan snake an arm around my waist, hugging me to his chest. His breath tickled the back of my neck.

Hmph… I'd deal with that in the morning.