“I learn so much about ‘normal’ from you. It’s a lot different than I thought it would be.”
“And I know of no knights who were held as sex slaves by my people.” Trystan went on, disregarding that dry remark. “Any wingless who stayed in our villages were there willingly.”
“You’re ruining the magic for me, Trys.”
Trystan nearly chuckled at the lament. “I assume this film was supposed to teach you that gryphons are a carnal menace of some kind? Or unnatural in our desires? Or a threat to your masculinity, perhaps? Because I do not think any of those messages took hold with you, knight.”
“Yeah, I was never great at picking up on subtext.” A dashing, jaunty, pleased-with-himself smirk curved the edges of his mouth. “I just know that watching that movie is how I figured out I like guys.”
Trystan’s desire rose like a tidal wave, dumbstruck by the beauty of the man. Lust was never at a low-ebb around the knight, but anytime he smiled with that hint of Badness things got serious. Fast. Galahad’s grin held all sorts of wicked ideas, and Trystan knew he truly was in the presence of something beyond this world. Some creature made of moonlight straight out of Elaine’s stories.
Galahad must have sensed how far gone Trystan was because his smirk took on a delightfully smart-ass quality. “I think the moral of the film was: Even when I’d been brainwashed into not liking your kind… I thought gryphons were incredibly hot.”
Trystan was listening intently, because how could he not?
“I memorized the whole script.” Galahad went on persuasively, seeing that he was winning over his audience. “No pressure, but if you wanted to act it out…” He gestured to his bound wrists. “We’re already halfway there. We could do this, Trys. Right now.”
Trystan shook his head to clear the images away. Galahad was the real carnal menace. “One hour.” He repeated, getting back on track. “Focus. We will leave this town, on schedule.”
Galahad made a face at him. “We have a schedule? Did you pencil in ‘sex’ anyplace on it? Because, I feel like we keep skipping that page.”
“One hour. I mean it.” Not even the knight could cause too much damage in sixty minutes, right? Speaking of which… “Do you see those men who tried to kill you, by any chance? The ones you were looking for the treasure with?” He added the second part to differentiate them from the scores of other people who were plotting to assassinate the knight.
Galahad sighed and abandoned his seduction plans. For the moment. “No. I told you, I left those guys farther east. They have no reason to follow me.”
“No reason, at all… Except you told them that you know the secret pathway to a hoard of unimaginable wealth.” Trystan sighed. “Never mind. I’ll just kill them when they get here.”
“I don’t think you should kill so many people. I’ve felt much better since I stopped.”
“I’d be much deader if I ever did. …You would be deader, too.” Trystan muttered. “Your refusal to see reason on this is frustrating. How can you be the best knight ever, if you do not kill your enemies?”
“I never said I was the best knight ever. Who said I was the best knight ever?”
“Avi said it and Avi is always right. Usually always, anyway.” Trystan paused. “Interesting that she would grant you the title and not Bedivere, yes? As he was the one who died saving children at Legion.”
Galahad shrugged, saying nothing.
Whenever the knight was silent, you knew there was much more to that story. But, Trystan let it drop. Pushing Galahad would not gain him what he wanted. “Avi also asked me to remind you to bring her a magic carpet, which I did not need to do.” He was still completely won over by the knight remembering Avalon’s gift.
“Yeah.” Galahad patted the magic carpet behind him. “Hopefully, this one isn’t fake.”
“It’s real.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it, since I still can’t get it to fly.” His struggles with operating the magic carpet annoyed the knight, because he typically excelled at everything without effort. His brooding over the delay in his inevitable success was very endearing.
“I told you, you have to clear your mind and concentrate on what you want it to do. Otherwise, it is no more than a regular rug. The problem is, you’re unable to focus on anything for more than two sustained seconds.”
The knight would have argued, except something new had already caught his attention.
Trystan’s mouth nearly curved. He might grouse at Galahad, but half of the man’s success came from having no limits on his mind. It was forever buzzing with strange questions. Trystan was slightly in awe of how quickly Galahad picked up on new concepts and how freely his thoughts flowed together.
This man was an artist.
His creativity was always working. Always driving him off in unexpected directions. He was not firmly affixed to the world, instead flitting into other realms and bringing back ideas. Trystan had never cared much for art, but now he saw the appeal of those who made it. They possessed a magic that lit up the bland landscape of reality.
“Hey Trys, what are those elves over there doing?”
Trystan glanced in that direction and saw some scrawny creatures fruitlessly tilling the dry soil. “Farming.”
“They’re farming? In sand?” Even the knight seemed to know that was a bad idea and, captivating as he was, the man was the most illogical being on the planet. “Will that work?”
“No. But they are a very stupid people.”
Galahad frowned like he wanted to open a soup kitchen for the misbegotten bastards. “We should help them.” He decided. “I know a little about growing food. I set up this whole urban garden project in Camelot and we fed all the orphaned children in the kingdom nutritious lunches for a year. I bet if we build an irrigation ditch from that pond, we could get…”
“No.” Trystan interrupted firmly. “Leave the people of this town to rot. Believe me, they are not worth the effort it would take you to care about them.”
“But…”
“No. You already cost me half a day’s riding with that leprechaun, this morning.” He wasn’t forgetting that moronic side-quest any time soon. Or any of the other moronic side-quests that the knight constantly instigated. “Then, you wouldn’t even let me eat it.”
“It was going to die, if we didn’t help it. It was caught under a rock. You wouldn’t eat a helpless creature, caught under a rock.”
“Of course I would. Leprechauns are delicious, so long as you avoid the lungs.”
Galahad sighed, still looking around the town for some Good deed to do. “The irrigation ditch would be easy to dig.” He tried persuasively. “All we’d need are some shovels. Someone around here must have some. It could be a community project.”
Trystan inhaled a deep breath and decided to break it down for him slowly. “Those people are growing poisoned herbs… probably on the orders of an evil overlord… to sell to wicked witches… to make magical potions… that will facilitate horrible spells.” He explained very carefully. “Are you sure you want to help them succeed at that plan?”
Galahad blinked over at the withered plants. “Those are poisoned herbs?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” He subsided with a frown. “I didn’t know that.”
Of course he didn’t. Galahad wouldn’t know poisoned herbs if they arrived in his salad. For a mad who claimed to possess Badness, he seemed incapable of seeing it around him. Trystan would count himself lucky if he only had to kill a half-dozen people protecting the knight from his Good-doings today.
He softened his tone, trying to be gentler. “This part of the world is a cesspit of spells. They are always developing newer and stronger magic. It’s very dangerous and it will get even more dangerous as we move towards St. Ives. Understand?”
Galahad nodded. “Sure.” Guileless eyes scanned around, again. “Is there a school here? People wouldn’t have to turn to crime and magic, if there was a quality education syste
m in place. Maybe we could talk to someone.”
“NO!” Trystan gave up on being gentle. He sucked at it. “Do not speak to anyone. Do not help anyone. Do not look at anyone. Do not proposition anyone. Alright?”
Galahad had the gall to grow insulted. “I’m not going to proposition anyone. I don’t do things like that.”
“You proposition me thirty seconds ago.”
“That’s because you’re you, though. I’ve never propositioned anyone else.”
That was a fair point. Since he’d met the knight, Trystan hadn’t seen him even look at anyone else. Other men had looked at him. Trystan had sure as hell seen that, but all of Galahad’s propositioning was reserved for Trystan and that was what mattered.
Trystan wasn’t unreasonable. The knight couldn’t help his alluring appearance, or the wonder of his ideas, or the fact that his smile was like a spotlight shining upon only you. It wasn’t his fault that other males desired him.
It was quite obviously the fault of the other males.
Two days before they’d come across a wingless man who’d been revoltingly eager to win Galahad’s favor. The knight didn’t seem to notice the man’s slavish attention, but it had set Trystan’s teeth on edge. Trystan had been forced to talk to the asshole, when the knight was distracted. Unlike Galahad, Trystan knew how to actually apply reason. Hard, flat, simple reason. Just a few hard, flat, simple words and the other male had taken off through the desert, running as fast as he could. He was probably dead of heat exhaustion, by now.
It was a satisfactory result.
Trystan grunted, appeased by the knight’s defense. “Fine.”
Galahad still seemed affronted by the accusation that he’d proposition others. Trystan had very clearly admitted he was wrong when he said “fine,” but it apparently wasn’t enough.
“I live a life of truth now and when I look at you it feels true.” Injured lavender eyes frowned at him. “That’s why I want to sleep with you, Trys.”
Trystan still wasn’t sure what that meant. “You have never even been with a male.” He muttered, wanting the knight to say something that would make it clearer for him. Something to make his hold on Galahad seem less precarious. “It would probably ‘feel true’ with any man you’re attracted to.”
“I don’t think so.” Galahad assured him sincerely. “I’ve been a lot of places and met a lot of people. I can never get close to any of them. It doesn’t feel like this with anyone except you.”
Yes. That was exactly what Trystan wanted to hear. “Fine.” He reigned in his horse, pacified again.
Galahad kept talking, ruining the semi-peaceful moment. “…At least, it hasn’t yet.”
Trystan’s head snapped up, his gaze narrowing. “Yet?”
His mind whirled with new, highly agitated thoughts. For all his outgoing smiles, the knight was elusive and mysterious on some level that Trystan sensed, but had not touched. The man still did not share his deepest thoughts or rely on Trystan’s care.
Maybe because he was waiting to give himself to another.
Something swelled within Trystan like a gale at the idea of Galahad smiling up at another male, leaning against another male, causing endless headaches for another male, trusting another male with his secrets…
“No.” The word was a flat command.
“No?” Galahad repeated like he had no clue what it meant.
“No. You will touch no other men. Get the thought from your mind, knight. Now.”
“I don’t have that thought in my head!” Galahad protested like Trystan was being irrational. “You’re the one saying I should start sleeping around, not me.”
“I did not say you should sleep with anyone else. Are you out of your mind?” It was the last thing in the world he wanted. “Why would I say that?”
“You insinuated that I should have meaningless sex, just to reach some magical number of partners that finally qualifies me to be sure of who I really want. But, I don’t care if you like that idea or not, I’m not going to…”
“No.” Trystan leveled a finger at him, cutting the whole confusing discussion off before he ended up killing some random asshole from sheer irritation. “No one else, Galahad. If it ever ‘feels true’ with anybody but me, you fucking suppress it, unless you want the son of a bitch dead in the street.”
Galahad beamed at him, unperturbed by his threats. “Are you ready to say ‘yes’ to sex with me, then? Because there’s probably a hotel around here.”
“No.” Trystan jumped off his horse, pissed off at the world. “Come inside, before you start a tornado.”
“How could I possibly start a tornado?”
“I have no idea, but I have total faith that you’ll eventually stumble upon a way.” Trystan headed towards the listing storefront. “There is no disaster you can’t cause. Let’s go. I have no more time to save your life today.”
The knight made a face and looked up at the sign above the mercantile shop promising “cold drinks, hot ammo, and snacks.” “Hey, if they have Gala-Chips, can you get me some?”
“No.” Trystan repeated and kept walking. “They have the same nutritional value as glass shards. Your eating habits are abysmal and I will not contribute to them. No meat, but plenty of sugar. You will be dead within a year on that diet.”
“I want peanut butter flavor.” Galahad called, disregarding Trystan’s lecture. “Really, anything but caramel-and-whey, is fine.” He made a face. “Don’t get caramel-and-whey.”
“I am not getting any of them. I will not feed you poison. Now, let’s go.”
“I’m tied to the saddle with enspelled ropes. How am I supposed to get off the horse without help?”
“Figure it out.” Trystan had no intention of putting his hands on him. He was already too far gone in his need for the man. Galahad was allegedly the “best knight ever.” He could problem solve.
Inside the store was an impressive selection of dirt and items no one wanted. Trystan ignored the cobweb covered shelves, heading for the back wall of the shop. He’d been there once, before the War. He’d been everywhere before, which is how he knew the whole world was a cesspit. The only place he wanted to be was home with his clan.
“We don’t allow gryphon in here.” The old man behind the counter snapped as Trystan stalked by. “No monsters of any sort. Grundys’ orders.”
“Shut the hell up.” Trystan kept walking, right past the Gala-Chip display. They only had caramel-and-whey flavor. The knight would not be pleased.
There wasn’t any cellphone service in Lyonesse, thanks to the mountains. However, there were still a few landlines sprinkled about and this hellish store had one of them.
It was impossible to fit in the glass box of the phone booth with his wings and height, so Trystan had to stretch the dingy cord out and crane his neck to talk on the receiver. “I don’t care how much it costs.” He snapped at the operator. “Charge Midas and put me through.”
The old man went stomping out of the store.
Trystan didn’t care. His brother was on the line within moments. “Trystan?” Midas’ voice was deep and echoed with the rough accent of his birthplace. “Are you okay? We’ve been worried. You were supposed to call.”
“I am calling.” How was that not obvious? “Is the child safe?”
“Avalon is fine. She drew you a new picture.”
Trystan relaxed a bit. “Has Gwen started another war, while I was gone?”
“Not yet. But it’s only Wednesday.”
He grunted. “Tell her I have the knight. He is so far unharmed, but I make no promises. The man is irritating the shit out of me.”
“You found Galahad?” Midas sounded impressed. “Already? How?”
“Gwen and Avi wished him retrieved, so I’ve retrieved him.” Trystan did everything his clan wanted to the best of his abilities and his abilities were second-to-none. There should be no surprise over any of his stellar achievements. “I am bringing the knight back to Camelot soon.”
“Saving that felonious child was mostly the knight’s doing. His heart is pitifully soft. And he gives away money even faster than you do. I will soon be penniless.”
“Uh-huh.” Midas didn’t sound convinced. “And you’re such a hardass with kids.”
Trystan looked towards the door, making sure Galahad wasn’t there. “Can I ask you something, j’ha?” He switched to the gryphon dialect.
“Anything. You know that.” Midas obligingly adopted the language, too. He was the only person in Trystan’s life who could speak in his native tongue fluently, which was always a blessing when you needed to not be overheard by irritating blond knights.
“When you first met Gwen, you knew instantly it was ha’na. You just… knew.”
“Yes. I knew she was the one. I met her eyes and saw everything.”
Trystan kept his gaze on the door of the store. Where was Galahad? Why could the man not do the simplest thing without complications? “Did she also irritate the shit out of you?”
Midas instantly understood the meaning behind the question. “I’m Bad, Trystan. I knew Gwen was my True Love, just by looking at her, and it still drove me crazy. You’re Good, so it will probably be even harder for you to adjust to finding your mate. That’s just how it works.” He paused. “Are we talking about Galahad?”
Trystan winced. “No.” He muttered.
Midas ignored the lie. “Galahad’s attracted to men, huh?” He made a considering sound. “That makes me like him more. I used to worry he was in love with Gwen.”
“He says he is attempting to seduce me. I think it might be working.”
“Well, great! Do that, then. Gryphons don’t care about genders. Jesus, why are we even having this discussion? If he’s the one you want…”
Trystan cut him off. “Galahad will want a True Love, yes? As all your kind do.”
Best Knight Ever (A Kinda Fairytale Book 4) Page 19