55 Chapter 55

As I brushed the straw off my blanket and clothes, my brain mulled over the strange dream and the even weirder notion of Tristan having a sex life…

Make that a sex hobby.

No, let's be honest, it was probably a rare sexual episode… never sighted before in the wild.

Shudder.

In all the months we'd been hanging out together, I'd never seen him look at a woman with anything approaching lust. What had suddenly induced him to sleep with one?

I wasn't jealous, but I resented not being given a warning—I only prayed that I'd somehow manage to erase the images from my mind as I packed and prepared to leave. Mato asked me what horse I wanted to take and I said I'd decide after breakfast. Then, after a brief meal with Vanora, I stalked back to Tristan's room with what felt like really bad indigestion.

And yes, it was his room now. I wouldn't sleep in that bed again. Nevertheless, I had to back into that room to retrieve my things for the journey. Cloak, outer tunic, spare socks, gloves, pick up food from Vanora… I rattled the list through my head as I went up the stairs without much thought for the knights. Little did I know that they were lying in wait for me, ready to console me for failing to entice my master the previous night.

It was Lancelot who pounced first, leaning out of his door with rumpled hair and "Oh kitty-kat, why the stern face? Could it be that you're jealous of… what's-her-name?" the lack of a name rather took the sting out of his remark and I was about to tell him so, when Gawain appeared from the opposite door.

"What? Tristan had a woman last night?" He ran a hand thought his sleep-tousled hair and peered at me blearily. "Oh, I am sorry." He said with genuine sympathy.

"Shut up, both of you," I snapped, not breaking stride as I headed for Tristan's room.

"No! Don't go in there!"

"Are you insane?!" and other similar cries echoed behind me, but I was not in the mood to tread warily. I was always armed and would happily deliver Tristan a superficial wound if he dared challenge me. I twisted free of the restraining hands and leaned back to land a mid-range kick at the middle of the door. It rattled ominously on its hinges, but held fast. Narrowing my eyes in fury, chest tight with dyspepsia, I stomped round to the empty room next to Tristan's and clambered out of the window and up onto the roof. Walking to Tristan's window, I leaned over the lip and saw that Tristan had also closed the shutters.

Never mind the woman in his bed, never mind the fact that I was still attracted to him (in fact that only made me angrier), and to hell with whatever his feelings were—I wanted to get on with my work. Performing a similar manoeuvre to the one that had granted me access to the baron's study, I hung monkey-like from the gutter by one hand and, muscles shaking from the effort, pried open the latch with the blade of my knife. Holding the knife between my teeth, I reclaimed the gutter with both hands and swung myself smoothly onto the window ledge.

The room had been dark, but the light from the window illuminated a green dress and grey cloak in a heap on the floor. Tristan's clothes were similarly discarded about the room. Ignoring the alarmed cry from the woman and the unrepeatable swearing from Tristan, I marched over to my trunk and flung it open to retrieve my things. After a moment's deliberation, I decided to leave my sword where it was. No need to invite pointless interaction with the Batavians.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Tristan suddenly growled right behind me. "Get out now."

"I need my things," I replied curtly, not turning to look at him as I piled the necessary items into my arms. I also grabbed my ever-ready 'expedition pack', which contains everything one needs for life on the trail. As I turned to leave—and I tried very hard not to—I flicked a glance at the woman still trying to hide herself behind the blankets on the bed. Tousled blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a pretty face that I had seen occasionally around the tavern and village. Like Lancelot I couldn't remember her name, and that made it easier. But by then I had reached the door and wrenched it open before almost colliding with Kahedin who had been about to hammer his fist against the wood.

"Watch it!" I snapped, dodging around him and walking to the stables with head held high. I left something of a verbal brawl in my wake, but was too annoyed to hang around and lose my temper completely.

~oOo~

It was impossible to fathom Tristan's mind. Just yesterday Kahedin could have sworn Tristan was going to quietly but fervently declare his undying affection for Kation. It was the only possible explanation for why he had forgiven her for disarming him in their most recent sparring session.

Twice.

Normally that would have resulted in a sulk for days, plus the sort of bloodcurdling behaviour that would make his erstwhile opponent pray for a swift end. One of his favourite methods was eating food with a knife. Ridiculous if others tried it, but the way that man could pare an apple would make anyone fervently hope for a merciful afterlife.

And now, just when he thought Gawain would see his wish fulfilled (although since he changed his mind so quickly about the whole Tristan-Kat problem, it was hard to say how long this would last), Tristan had gone and slept with some local slut. Without warning or apparent cause, he had surprised all those who knew him with a sudden bout of lust. He rarely ever took women to bed—that they knew of—and there certainly hadn't been any since Kat had made her appearance.

His strange tolerance for her audacious behaviour, the appreciation of her practical skills and the ever-growing dependence on her sneaky ways was obvious. He was man enough to admit that they all relied on the little tasks and Arthur-management that she carried out with every sign of resigned competency. Things had been progressing nicely between them—despite the endless arguments and missteps—so why this? And why now?

After the extraordinary scene that morning, with Kation storming Tristan's room with every sign of murder—he could have sworn she would have killed him. But instead she'd only broken in and retrieved her things. After an exasperated look at Tristan, he had followed Kat to the stables where she was hastily fastening her dirks to herself and quietly asking Mato to help her pack.

"Morning," he said carefully, sensitive of her possible bad temper.

"Hey," she murmured, eyes downcast and clearly thinking deeply on other matters. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, um… well, it's about…"

Kation raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"You and Tristan," he mumbled, looking at his boots.

She viciously kicked a bucket. "I knew it! Look—there is nothing going on between Tristan and me! Last night is proof of that." She added, her glare was burning into him. "What is wrong with everyone? Do we really look that close? Because I promise you we're not."

"Kat," Kahedin said, secretly hoping she wouldn't injure him if he spoke frankly. "You know he'd have murdered anyone else who'd tried half the things you've done. Man or woman."

"That doesn't mean we're in love! Gods, get it through your heads—it's not what you think it is!" for once, she seemed genuinely agitated, running her hands through her hair and scowling openly.

"Why not?"

She gave him a very sane look. "Last night was proof enough, wasn't it?"

"He did a stupid thing, but…"

"No, I refuse to discuss this matter further," she snapped. "I've had enough of these stupid games you men insist on playing and will not tolerate it any longer." She paused in her rant to pin her cloak about her shoulders. "Do you think Arthur will let me have one of the empty rooms?"

"It won't hurt to ask," Kahedin said with a careful shrug—his ribs were still fragile—and nodded at her pack. "But I see you're going out. Why?"

"I'm going to escort the Batavians back to the fort, I want to have a proper look at them before they get here and know what we're dealing with."

"And you're running away from Tristan," he said daringly. He wanted to goad her into a stronger admission than mere 'attraction' for the tattooed scout.

"Excuse me," she said haughtily. "But if anyone was to be running, it would be Tristan fleeing my supposed wrath. As it is, I no longer care and I'll be damned if this is all somehow my fault." She sounded angry now, and Kahedin had a sudden, heartfelt urge to get her out of the fort immediately, rather than allow her to encounter Tristan again. They could both cool off and he could work on convincing Tristan to apologise.

"In that case, let me help you get out of here," he said gallantly. "What horse will you take?"

"Tagiytei," she murmured with a demon's grin.

Kahedin felt his stomach drop. "Oh, now that's going too far. You can't steal the man's horse, kitten. He will definitely slaughter you."

"You've seen me steal horses before Kahedin, it's the work of a moment: put a saddle on them, load them with your gear and then ride away."

"Yes, but this is Tagiytei we're talking about. Tristan will go berserk."

"What do I care? He once thought me his equal, said so to my face—and he knows I can ride his evil horse. I say we hold him to his word."

"Aha! So he does care," Kahedin said, watching Kation survey the horses thoughtfully.

"We're comrades, that's all," she said. "He cares for me because I hold a life debt over his head. And besides, I already considered the possibility of him caring for me—if something would have happened it would have been ages ago."

"Wait, what happened? Something happened, didn't it?"

"Um… there may have been a teensy deception behind the tavern on the night we caught the baron's spies…"

"What?!" he demanded a full explanation and after he got it, he couldn't quite believe his ears… or the interesting look of nausea on Kat's face as she filled her water canteens. "Well," he managed, not sure what to say.

"Yeah," she sighed. "So if either of us had wanted to do anything, we would have. We're straightforward like that."

"But… but…" he couldn't quite figure it out.

"Stop, Kahedin, you'll do yourself an injury." She sighed, looking annoyed. "Tell Vanora and Gawain, if you like. You three can devise some crazy, embarrassing scheme to keep us all entertained as disaster looms on the horizon." She threw him a strange look, full of bitter amusement and resignation, before going to fetch Tagiytei's tack from its place and entering the horse's stall.

Suddenly Kahedin felt like a complete blackguard. "Kitten… really, I didn't mean…"

"No, I know," she didn't sound happy, "It's just that I've got way bigger concerns—like keeping you all from being knifed in your beds."

"You really think we're in danger?" Kahedin said sharply.

She grinned horribly. "I'm just being realistic." She easily tacked up Tagiytei and strapped her packs to the horse before leading the stallion out and asking for a leg-up from Amandus who edged forward warily and hastily flung her up into the saddle.

After watching her go, and determined not to let it slide, he decided to enlist expert help: Vanora. Hastening to the tavern's kitchen, he found Bors' lover stirring a giant pot. "Morning Van'," he said, easing himself down into a chair beside which Gilly lay in a basket of pillows and rags.

"Morning Kahedin, what's the matter?"

He widened his eyes innocently. "Can't I just come in for a friendly chat?"

"Nothing's innocent where you knights are concerned." She replied with a gleam of humour in her eyes.

Kahedin couldn't deny the veracity of this statement and instead shifted the conversation to the matter at hand. "Alright, it's about Tristan and Kation."

That got her attention. Whipping her head around, she fixed him with a very intense look. "What about them?"

"Well, I'm worried. Last night Kation walked in on Tristan in bed with a woman—"

"I'll kill him!" she exclaimed, cutting across the rest of his sentence. "I'll absolutely kill him! What on earth possessed him to do that? I'd thought—I'd hoped—" she choked on her words and glared at Kahedin, but he knew he was safe.

He nodded sympathetically. "I know… I was thinking the same thing. Usually Tristan plans to murder people who best him in sparring matches—but instead he encourages her to try harder. To be more vicious…" he trailed off with a shudder and Vanora joined him by paling slightly. "It can only be love."

She nodded. "We've all seen how tolerant and relaxed he is around her. Well, relaxed for him, anyway. I had hoped it was reciprocated, because they're both so lonely…" she broke off, looking sad and frustrated.

"Perhaps he was trying to make her jealous?" Kahedin wondered aloud. "Provoke her?"

"In that case, she ought to retaliate in kind so he can see how it feels." Vanora exclaimed, bending down to tickle Gilly's stomach with a beautiful smile. "Honestly, you saw her last night and I've seen her this morning—she's angry, but it seems to be more about being forced to sleep in the stables."