The Gorgon by Kathryn Le Veque Read Free Book Online

distracted
farewell, Summer watched her brother stroll across the trampled grass,
pondering his words. As Genisa moved to Edward's free arm, Summer obeyed her
father's insistence that they proceed to the tournament field. After all, the
games could not begin with the attendance of the illustrious castle constable
and already they were a half-hour truant with delays.
    Let the games begin.
     
    ***
     
    "Very well, Bose. Ask me any
question about the Lady Summer. I can tell you anything you wish to know."
    Bose did not look up as he
assisted his squire in latching the last of his chest protection. And he
furthermore did not look to his confident friend as the young squire finished
the final fastens about his massive neck, straightening the mailed hood
underneath the plate steel. Only when the lad moved away to collect his
master's gauntlets did Bose fix his onyx-black eyes upon the smug, entirely
annoying knight.
    "I told you that I did not
want to know anything else about her. There is no need."
    By the corner of the tent, Morgan
looked up from repairing his well-used scabbard. The end of the aged leather
was fraying and he was distraught with worry; however, his fret did not prevent
him from overhearing Tate's thoroughly self-satisfied statement.
    "Who is Lady Summer?"
    "No one," Bose
grumbled.
    "A certain lady who seems to
have captured our illustrious leader's attention," Tate supplied with
restrained humor as Bose looked away, fumbling with the gloves offered by the
squire. "Although he refuses to admit anything, I am quite confident that
he has a moderate interest in her. Am I incorrect, my lord?"
    Bose maintained his silence as
Morgan rose from his corner seat, his brown eyes wide with genuine surprise.
"God's Blood, Bose. Is this true? Have you finally found interest with a
woman?"
    Yanking on a glove in a distinct
exhibition of annoyance, Bose's black eyes fairly blazed with threat and
hazard. "Not in the least. And if Tate isn't careful, he shall find
himself impaled in the melee by my very own weapon. Do I make myself clear,
Farnum?"
    Much to Bose's aggravation, Tate
merely snorted humorously to the deadly threat and turned his attention to a
still-surprised Morgan. "You should see her, old man. As beautiful as when
the world was new," spacing his hands a foot or so apart, he outlined an
obvious female figure. "And her form is in fine shape. Fine, fine shape.
My God, I do believe I would have her myself had our liege not expressed
interest first."
    Morgan stared at the snickering
young knight, hardly believing what he had heard. To declare that the
omnipotent, focused Bose de Moray was interested in a woman was beyond his
scope of comprehension. A smile of hope creased his lips. "Who is
she?"
    Casting Bose a long glance from
the corner of his eye to make sure the man was paying attention, Tate crossed
his arms smugly. "She is the Lady Summer du Bonne, a mere eighteen years
old one week ago today. She is unmarried, unpledged, and unattached. And from
what I have been able to discover, something of a hermit. Her father keeps her
under constant isolation for reasons I have been unable to ascertain."
    Although his manner indicated a
lack of interest, Bose was nonetheless listening carefully to Tate's
information. As his squire secured his remaining gauntlet, he struggled between
the instinct to demand more of Tate's knowledge on the woman and the urge to
deny the situation. Bewildered and confused, for the moment, denying his
interest was the only manner of self-preservation he could think of…at least,
until he could come to better understand the chaos for himself.
    "I am not surprised to
discover you been wasting your time in pursuit of useless knowledge when there
is a tournament to be had," determined to move from the subject, he
gestured sharply to Morgan. "Did you finish repairing your scabbard? And
what about your horse? Have you checked on the animal since Artur wrapped his
leg?"
    Morgan's gaze was even at