In Camelot’s Shadow: Book One of The Paths to Camelot Series (Prologue Fantasy) by Sarah Zettel Read Free Book Online Page B

to say. “I want nothing.”
    “At least sit then.” She felt Aeldra tugging at her arm and permitted herself to be guided to a chair and made to sit.
    Her mind was too full to perform these simple actions without assistance. The same thoughts rang over and over, like church bells on the Sabbath. She was promised, to a sorcerer, who had asked for her before she had even been born, and her father, her father whom she had loved and trusted all her life, even when she did not understand him, had given her over, and had done it for love.
    She tried to understand a love that would make such a bargain, that would demand so much. It was passion such as the bards sang of. It knew no limits. It would sacrifice all for the beloved.
    And in the ballads, it sounded very fine and noble, but what of the one who must be the sacrifice? What of the child she had been and the maiden she was now? Was it her duty to go meekly with this stranger who had demanded so evil a price from a desperate man and a dying woman?
    That thought broke the paralysis that held her.
    “No,” she said, looking up at Aeldra. “It is wrong and it is wicked.”
    “What do you mean, my lady?” asked Aeldra, confused.
    Risa’s mind felt as clear as it had been cloudy before. She would not be handed over like a bribe to a corrupt seneschal. She would not stay and watch her father do this, nor would she watch her mother break her heart over what her husband had done.
    “Aeldra.” Risa gripped her maid’s hand. “Aeldra, are you my friend?”
    Aeldra stiffened, shocked at such a question. As she looked into Risa’s eyes, however, a measure of understanding came to her. “I hope my lady knows how well I regard her.”
    “Then as a friend, much more than as my maid, I am asking for your help. You must bring old Whitcomb here to my room. Neither of you must be seen, by anyone, but most of all not by my father, do you understand?”
    She did not. The expression on her lean face said that plainly enough. She folded her hands primly before her. “I am sure my lady knows what is best …”
    “No, she doesn’t.” Risa shook her head. “Your lady is terrified, for her life and her soul, and she is trying to save both. Will you help her?”
    Again Aeldra searched Risa’s eyes, looking deeply. “Very good, my lady.” She curtsied. “I’ll see to the matter.”
    Aeldra shut the door behind her. In the silence left in her wake, Risa fancied she could hear her own heart beating like the hooves of a galloping horse, spurred on by the temerity of what she meant to do.
    Whitcomb was her dearest friend among her father’s servitors. Where her father would not, or could not love her, Whitcomb had. He was the one who had taught her to shoot and to ride. He had helped her train her hounds and taught her to hunt. He told her all manner of stories he’d learned from the freemen and serfs, most of which Risa was quite certain her mother would have been appalled that she knew. But despite years of such daring secrets, Whitcomb was always the first to insist she learn to be a proper, God-fearing lady and be a source of pride to her parents.
    But at the same time he was staunchly loyal to his lord. Risa bit her lip. There lay the danger, but she needed him. He could go without question where she could not, no matter how dark the night or how thoroughly she disguised herself.
    Rather than simply pace about, Risa sought action. She pulled a square of fine linen out of her sewing basket. She had meant to broider it into a veil. Now she upended her jewelry box into it. She did not have much, but she had some gold, a string of amber beads, a brooch of pearl and rubies, and several rings, one set with a square emerald the size of her thumbnail her mother said had come all the way from Rome. The whole of her wealth. She tied the cloth tightly and stowed it in the leather satchel she took with her when she went out shooting.
    She’d have to leave her hounds behind. Risa’s