The Reckless Oath We Made

by Bryn Greenwood

  “Oh, I don’t want to keep Lady Zhorzha standing out here with her wet hair,” I said. “She can take my lantern to find her way.”

  “I think I know which way the tent is.” She turned and pointed. “That way, and then up the path where the 1871 fence post is, right?”

  “Yea, my lady. True as an arrow.”

  “Here, my lady.” I held out my flashlight and she looped it over her wrist.

  “Just so you know, Rosalinda, he’s a lousy lifeguard. He didn’t keep an eye on me at all.” Zee laughed as she went down the path, singing “Roxanne” like a drunk tavern wench.

  CHAPTER 24

  Zee

  Rosalinda could disapprove all she wanted, but I felt better after I got high, and I laughed so much my face hurt. After I took my bath, I hiked back to the tent singing to myself, which I almost never did. I’d used the chemise as my towel, so I hung it up to dry. In the summer, it was probably scorching hot in the tent, but right then, it felt good to lie there naked.

  When I heard footsteps out by the fire ring, I yanked my nightgown on and said, “Are you coming to tell me a story?”

  “Sure, I can tell you a story. What do you want to hear? ‘Goldilocks and the Three Medieval Bears’?” Rhys, not Gentry. I smoothed out my nightgown, before he opened the flap on the tent and looked in at me.

  “I thought you were Gentry,” I said.

  “I thought you were Gentry.”

  “Rosalinda didn’t want to swim by herself, so he’s waiting on her.”

  “I guess she’s not done flirting with him after all.” Rhys obviously wanted me to ask about that, so I kept my mouth shut. “Is it okay if I wait for him?”

  “Knock yourself out,” I said.

  “Cool.” He started to step into the tent, so I shook my head at him.

  “You can wait out there. I’m going to sleep.”

  Once he pulled the tent flap closed, I turned off the light to keep him from bothering me. I must have drifted off, because I woke up to Gentry laughing and saying, “Thou art a knave.” To Rhys? I guessed not, because nobody answered before Gentry said, “The lady sleepeth and hath not said I might wake her. Nay. My greatest wish is that thou stint thy clappe.”

  “Gentry,” I called.

  “My lady.”

  I turned the lantern on and got up to look outside. He was squatted next to the fire ring arranging a pile of logs.

  “Are you coming to tell me the story about the lady whose husband spied on her taking a bath?” I said. He came over to the tent, but when I stepped back to let him in, he hesitated. I held up my hands and made little scratchy movements. “I’ll scratch your back for you.”

  Gentry ducked and stepped inside. Then we were standing in the tent together, me looking at him and him looking at my bare feet. His hands hung down at his sides, but relaxed like he didn’t know what to do with them. Now that I’d seen him fight, I wondered if when he clenched his hand up, he imagined he was gripping a sword. Something familiar to do with his hands.

  “If you were someone else, I would kiss you now,” I said.

  “I am naught but myself.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant, I would kiss you, except I know you didn’t like it the last time I tried it.”

  “Nay, my lady. Thy kiss was no outrage upon me. ’Twas only that I knew not what thou . . .” That was all the words he got out.

  He kept his head down, so I couldn’t see his face, but he clenched his right hand around his invisible sword. Was that anger? Or nervousness? Or something else?

  “Is it okay if I kiss you now?” I said. I knew flirting with him was stupid, but I was still high, and I didn’t want to be alone. Plus I liked watching him fight, and that he laughed so hard at his own jokes.

  “Where?” he said, which gave me the giggles.

  “I thought I’d start with your lips. And then maybe your jaw, next to your ear. And then a little bit lower, on your neck.” I’d never been asked before where I was going to kiss somebody, so I thought it was better to be really specific. I waited for follow-up questions, but he nodded and raised his head enough that he was looking at my lips.

  I leaned in, still feeling giggly, and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Since he didn’t seem to mind that, I centered the next one. Then, like I’d told him I would, I kissed his jaw, right where it met his ear. A little bit below that was apparently the sweet spot, because when I kissed him there, he made this sound—I swear, the sexiest sound I ever heard a man make—this involuntary groan that I don’t think he even knew he could make.

  I took half a step back to give him some space, but he brought his right hand up to my jaw, so his thumb touched my chin. His other hand hovered like he couldn’t decide where to put it, but he finally settled on my arm, below my elbow.

  I thought, Is he actually going to kiss me? right before he did. Whatever base that was, he had definitely Frenched somebody before, because he knew the basics. It lasted about thirty seconds before he dropped his hands and took a step back, almost into the side of the tent.

  “My lady—” He was going to apologize.

  “You’re okay. It’s okay. Come sit down and tell me the story.” I sat down on the bed and patted the space next to me, but he stayed standing where he was.

  “’Twas many years past,” he said. Then he took a deep breath and started over.

  “’Twas many hundred years past and the king of Alba was a man called Elynas. One day he rode out hunting into the greenwood, where he came upon a lady called Pressyne. So fair was she, her lips bedewed, that he bade her marry him. The lady assented but bade him swear never come into her chamber while she bathed or birthed.”

  “Birthed? He wasn’t supposed to see her bathing or giving birth?” I hated to interrupt him, but I wasn’t sure I understood.

  “Nay, and he swore this oath. Ere they weren wed many years, she bore Elynas three daughters. Palatyne, Melior, and Melusine.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Tho the king swore, as holy a troth as his marriage vow, suspicion entered his heart. What secret kept the lady from him? And wherefore? Soon he broke his vow. At the door of the lady Pressyne’s chamber, he knelt and looked through the keyhole.”

  Gentry acted it out, kneeling down and putting his hand up to his eye like it was a keyhole. It was so cute, I laughed. Then he started giggling.

  “You’re stoned,” I said. He shook his head. Then he nodded, still laughing.

  “I am happy, my lady, but shamed it is at the cost of thine own happiness.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Thou art here only because of thy distress, but thou art here.”

  “How long have you been planning to bring me here?”

  “From the day the Witch told me I was to be thy champion.”

  He was still smiling when he brought both his hands up and started scratching. First his neck, then his shoulders. After a minute or so, he stopped scratching and put his hands flat on the tops of his thighs.

  “Lo, the king looked and saw Pressyne disporting in her bath—”

  “Disporting?”

  “The lady was playing in the water, but she was no lady.”

  I bit my tongue, even though I had a bunch of questions. If she wasn’t a lady, how had she given birth to three daughters?

  “Above her navel, she was like as any lady. Soft of shoulder. Full of breast. But below her navel, she had a great split tail atwinkle with silvered scales. The king meant to spy her in secret but, in his surprise, he cried out. Pressyne heard his cry and knew he betrayed his hest to keep the privacy of her bath. In a fury, she flew thence. She carried her three daughters to the enchanted Isle of Avalon, and swore King Elynas never see her nor them again.”

  “Okay. Wait. Pressyne—” Those crazy names, like my mother was in charge of naming mysteri
ous women from the forest. “I thought Melusine was the one whose husband spied on her while she was taking a bath, but it’s Pressyne with the spying husband? I’m confused.”

  Gentry scratched at his neck and his shoulders again, frowning the whole time.

  “Nay,” he said, but nothing else. I felt like I’d screwed up the whole thing, the story and him being there with me. Like I’d peeked through the keyhole at him taking a bath. I wished we could go back to the part where he was laughing at his own jokes.

  CHAPTER 25

  Gentry

  I promised to scratch your back while you told me a story. Come lie down,” Lady Zhorzha said.

  By such enticement she drew me on, but I withstood. Upon my knees, beside the pallet I made for her, I was reminded of my proper place. When she saw I would not lie with her, she rose before me, her hair about her like a cloak, and reached for me with her dragon’s talons. I meant to take no more than was offered, but she scoured my shoulders in slow circles so that I lost the thread of my tale. I gained upon her til my brow rested against her belly, and all that lay between us was the cloth of her chemise. Soon, twixt her flesh and mine, there was kindred warmth. I breathed upon her and breathed her in. She smelled of darkness and cool water and full sun all at once.

  “Why don’t you put out that light and come to bed?” she said.

  “Nay, I shall keep the watch this night.”

  “So you liked kissing me, but you don’t want to sleep with me?”

  “Wert thou only a woman, and I only a man, I would swive thee.” I drew back from her, for I would be ruled by the oath I swore to protect her, and not by my desire.

  “You would what?” she said.

  “Wert thou a doe and I a stag in rut, I would mount thee.” I spake plainly that she might ken me.

  “Wow, Gentry. I don’t know if you’re reciting poetry or talking dirty to me. But what am I, if I’m not a woman?”

  “Thou art the daughter of a dragon, and above all, thou art the lady I swore to protect and champion.”

  “You think my mother’s a dragon?” She laughed in a voice that carried the truth: deep and full of smoke. With one finger, she lifted her chemise til half her thigh was bared. “Or because of this?”

  “Yea, my lady, and—” I could discover no more words, for she drew her chemise higher. Tho she held me not, I was tranced.

  “It’s not a dragon, you know.”

  “Is it not?” My voice was thin as water.

  “It’s a phoenix. Do you know what a phoenix is?”

  “’Tis a token of the Resurrection.”

  “It is? I just know it’s a bird that rises from the ashes and is born again. Oh! The Resurrection. That makes sense.”

  Higher she raised her chemise, that I might see the feathered tail and haunch of the beast laid to bone by fire and graved in black. She turned and bared her buttock, where wings arched in flames against the white of her flesh. She turned further and the beast’s sharp-hooked beak emerged in a raging fire upon her back.

  Ere she let the chemise fall, I saw the bright flame flash of hair twixt her thighs. The thing that rose in my breast was a tangled skein of bravery and lust. I pledged fealty with my lips upon the place where the fire bird’s black claw carved blood-ready into her pale skin.

  Quick as ’twas done, I needed none to tell me I presumed too far.

  “Forgive me,” I said.

  I sat back upon my heels that I might rise and leave her, but Lady Zhorzha returned her hand to my shoulder. She slipped it into my blouse, so that skin kissed skin, her palm to my breast. My breath caught and my heart stammered, too sharp to bear. I pushed her hand away.

  “Did you just parry me?” she said. She stepped back and sat herself down upon the pallet. With her hands gone from me, my heart calmed and I perceived my villainy.

  “Lady, I meant no offense.”

  “I’m not offended, but it’s not a sword fight. All you had to say was no. Or nay.”

  “I said not nay.”

  “Then what? You brought me here and fed me your food and put me in your bed. Why?”

  “Little knight, she is nigh naked for thee,” said Gawen. “Thou hast seen and smelt the hair of her cunt. Lady or no, dragon or no, she offereth herself to thee.”

  “Like a bitch in heat,” Hildegard said. “Thou art of no import to her. The slattern would open her legs to any man.”

  “And he runneth like a frighted whelp.”

  “I am no coward,” I said.

  “I know you’re not,” Lady Zhorzha said, laughing.

  “But I am more fitted to battle than bower. I shall go, for I would not offend thee further.”

  “Wilt thou leave her to Sir Rhys? He would not retreat thus,” Gawen said. “If not afraid, art thou unable?”

  “I am able.”

  “Unwilling to fight leaveth a man as dead as unable to fight. Show her thou hast some fire.”

  “’Tis not fire,” Hildegard said. “’Tis filthy lust. She hath no shame, and thou must have it for ye both.”

  I would hear the Witch’s wisdom, but she was silent.

  “Stay and finish the story,” Lady Zhorzha said. “I promise I won’t touch you again. Unless you want me to.”

  “Lady, thy lips are soft and thy breath is sweet.” I longed to have her ken me, but I kenned not myself.

  “I wager her cunt is soft and sweet,” Gawen said.

  “Yea, and were the deed done, mayhap ’twould all turn to bitterness,” I said.

  “What does Gawen say?” she said, for I could not conceal it from her.

  “I care not, my lady. I would not have thee despise me.”

  “Oh,” she said upon a sigh. “Like I haven’t had sex with people I despised.”

  “I would not be numbered among them. Where aren they? Standen they ready to take up a sword to defend thee?”

  “No, they’re long gone.”

  “And when thou scorneth me, wilt thou allow me to stay? I think thou wilt send me from thee.”

  “What if I promised not to send you away?”

  “Wilt thou? Swear such a vow?”

  “Sure,” she said, tho she smiled. I knew not if ’twas in jest.

  “Sooth? Thou wilt not send me away from thee?”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Her voice was soft, and so by a venture she spake truth. “But how do you know you’ll be ready to defend me with your sword if you haven’t tried it?”

  “She meaneth thy prick,” Gawen said.

  “Yea, I ken she meaneth my prick.”

  “What about your prick?” she said much amused, for I misspoke to her.

  I knew not how to answer, for certs I was able, but was I willing?

  “Finish your story, Gentry. So what about Pressyne? What the heck was she?”

  “Some say Pressyne and Melusine alike weren water nymphs, like as the Lady of the Lake that stole Sir Lancelot when he was a babe.”

  “A water nymph!” Lady Zhorzha laughed and coiled upon her side that I might see the phoenix burning upon her limb. I looked, tho Hildegard said, “Filth” and “Slut.”

  I took up the tale again, tho ne my liver ne mine heart weren at peace.

  “’Twas Melusine first among Pressyne’s daughters who learned why they lived exiled in Avalon. Quick as she knew it, she was wroth and swore to revenge her father’s slight against her mother. She betook her sisters to the place of their birth in Alba, whence they kidnapped King Elynas. They also took his riches, and secured them in a cavern until they might devise their revenge.

  “When their mother heard what they had done, she was full wroth. For tho she loved him no more, tho she forgave him not, she would not that his own daughters shew him uncourtesy. She cast them three out and cursed them, but most especially Melusine that had plotted this act agai
nst her father. Melusine, like her mother, was cursed to take the form of a monstrous sea serpent, not only in her bath or in birth, but upon each Saturday, from sunup to sundown.

  “Exiled from Alba and from Avalon, Melusine and her sisters wandered til, one day, they came upon a lone huntsman in the forest of Poitiers. He was distraught and unburdened himself of his sad tale. That morn, he and the Duke of Poitiers, that was his uncle, had made up a party of twenty men for hunting, and rode into the forest. During the hunt, they became lost. The duke and the young man, who was called Raymondin, weren alone together.

  “The boar they sought to hunt burst from the trees. Raymondin raised his blade to strike it dead, but misstruck and swung again. When the boar lay dead at his feet, Raymondin saw that the first hit of his sword slew his uncle the duke. The boar and the nobleman lay side by side, both dead. In grief and confusion Raymondin wandered the forest until he found Melusine and her sisters beside a stream.

  “What, he asked of Melusine, ought I do?

  “Go, she said, and ride out of the woods. Pretend thou knowest naught of thy kinsman’s fate. Say only that ye two weren parted as well. None shall suspect thee.

  “The lady was right, for in the confusion of the hunt, none had seen Raymondin and the duke together. The huntsmen returned to the wood and found the duke. He slew the boar and the boar slew him, they said. They took his body to the cathedral and laid him out. Some days after, Raymondin returned to the forest to thank the lady and entreated her be his bride. She assented but bade him swear never enter her chamber while she was under her mother’s curse.”

  “Well, crap. Like mother, like daughter,” Lady Zhorzha said. She prostrated herself and lay her hand upon her eyes as tho she would shut out some horrible vision.

  “Yea, my lady. ’Twas many years that Melusine and Raymondin weren steadfast in marriage. She built him up a great castle with mighty fortifications that still stand, called Lusignan. Because of this, Raymondin was made Count of Poitou. Melusine gave him also many sons. All weren strong and clever, but each was in some way disfigured. One with a great tusk like a boar’s. One with ears like a donkey’s. One called Horrible with a third eye upon his forehead. And so on.