The Reckless Oath We Made

by Bryn Greenwood

  It reminded me so much of LaReigne it made my stomach hurt. We read together a lot when we were kids. Something to do on a cold or rainy day. Or when Mom was feeling strict and wouldn’t let us leave the house. We would curl up together on her bed and take turns using each other as a pillow. One of those things we never did once we were adults.

  I put my hand on the bed to shift my weight a little, and I left it there until I needed to turn the page in my book. When I went to put my hand back on the bed, though, Gentry’s hand was in the way, and I accidentally touched his pinky finger with mine.

  “I’m sorry.” I thought it was an accident, so I moved my hand, but the next time he turned his page, he put his hand back on the bed close enough for our pinkies to touch again. It reminded me of those dating games I wasn’t any good at, but I didn’t imagine Gentry was any good at them, either.

  “Do you want to hold my hand?” I said.

  I figured I’d get some variation on I am thy servant, but he said, “Yes.”

  He scratched his neck for a couple minutes, but after he finished, he put his hand on top of mine where it was on the bed. We stayed like that until I had to turn the page. Then I put my hand on top of his. Whichever one of us needed to turn a page, that person’s hand went on top, like the slowest hand stacking game in the world.

  Gentry read faster than I did, so his hand was on top more often. It was pretty banged up, covered in scrapes and bruises. He had a big scar on his thumb, and the nail of his ring finger was black. His palm was calloused, from sword fighting and castle building, I guessed.

  I was trying to think of what to say—Thanks for everything and I’m going to do something reckless in the morning—when Charlene came pushing Elana down the hallway.

  “Sir Gentry, will you read me a bedtime story?” Elana said.

  “Certs, my sister. Wilt thou hear it also, Lady Zhorzha?”

  “No. I’m gonna keep reading my book,” I said.

  From the way Charlene smiled at me, I knew it was the right answer.

  Like he had before, Gentry closed his book without a bookmark. Then he stood up, still holding my hand, and bent over it. I wasn’t sure if it was because Charlene and Elana were watching, but he held my hand for nearly a minute, before he lowered his head and pressed his lips against my knuckles.

  “I shall sleep ere I labor for my lord Bombardier, so I bid thee good night, my lady,” he said.

  I let that decide me. In the morning, I would get up and go to Missouri.

  CHAPTER 30

  Zee

  I didn’t take any THC drops at bedtime, because I was worried about oversleeping, but if I’d slept better, I would have gotten out of bed and left on time. Instead, I was still packing when I heard the front door open and Gentry saying good morning to Elana and his parents. Trang was already gone, and I should have been, too. I carried my backpack out to the front room, planning to say thanks and goodbye. Gentry was standing in the kitchen with a glass of orange juice.

  “Lady Zhorzha,” he said. “Preparest thou to depart for the house of thine uncle?”

  Somehow I’d thought since we didn’t talk about it the night before, he wouldn’t remember we’d talked about it at all. It probably would have been better to lie to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “Yeah, I thought I’d leave this morning so I can get there before dark.”

  “What road wilt thou follow?” Gentry set down his juice, took out his phone, and opened the map app like we were going to discuss roads and travel time. Which was why I couldn’t lie to him. He was so good.

  “Well, have some breakfast before you go,” Charlene said, as she carried dishes from the dining room to the sink.

  “I’ll just get something on the road,” I said.

  “I’ll pack you something.” She started digging around in the cupboard for a plastic container. She was going to do it anyway, so I set my backpack down and decided to go to the bathroom one last time before I left.

  When I came back to the kitchen, Charlene had stopped in the middle of packing me breakfast, and Bill had come in from the dining room. They were frowning, and Gentry had his sword hand clenched.

  “Gentry tells us you’re going to visit your uncle in Missouri. Do you have more than one uncle?” Bill said. It felt like a trick question.

  “Um, no,” I said.

  “Then this is the uncle they mentioned on the news?”

  “They mentioned my uncle on the news?” My heart did this weird floppy thing, because all I could think was that something had happened to make this all more complicated. I couldn’t even imagine what that would be, unless they’d arrested Uncle Alva.

  “Well, when they were talking about your sister, about the situation at El Dorado with the escape, they mentioned that your father and your uncle . . .” Bill lowered his eyes, like he was embarrassed.

  “Oh, that they were in El Dorado? Or that they robbed a couple of banks?” Even though it had been years since anyone had brought it up, that old prickly defensiveness came back fresh. I refused to be embarrassed, but it always got my hackles up.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Charlene said. “Going to visit him?”

  “You don’t think he’s connected to what happened with your sister?” Bill said.

  I picked up my backpack before I answered, because I was stumped for what to say. There wasn’t anything neutral enough to describe what I was hoping to get out of my uncle, and like hell I was going to tell Gentry’s parents anything. If Uncle Alva knew something—if—it was worth finding out. Because I didn’t trust the police or the marshals to get LaReigne back safely. I could imagine the headline: HOSTAGE KILLED IN POLICE RAID GONE WRONG. Shit like that happened. Branch Davidian shit.

  “Well, he’s family,” I said. “So, yeah, I’m going to visit him.”

  “At what hour wilt thou depart?” Gentry said.

  “I don’t have a schedule. I’m gonna try to talk to my mother again before I go.”

  “I shall be ready ere the hour turns.” Gentry put his phone in his pocket and came around the kitchen island. By my math, the hour was going to turn to nine in fifteen minutes.

  “You don’t need to go,” I said.

  “Thou mayest need me yet.”

  “It doesn’t sound like she invited you, honey.” Charlene laughed.

  “I am her champion.”

  I thought he was speaking to his mother, but he frowned and lifted his head. Not to look at her, but listening. That was the Witch above his head.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, son.” Bill looked more comfortable being embarrassed than he did disapproving.

  “Nay, I cannot leave my lady go alone.”

  “I—” I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but Charlene cut me off.

  “Gentry, I’m not going to forbid you to go,” she said.

  “I am glad, my mother, for it would distress me to defy thee.”

  “Son,” Bill said, “I appreciate that you want to help Zee, but you may have done as much as you can.”

  “And what about work? You’ve got no business gallivanting around and missing work.” Charlene could say she wasn’t going to forbid him to go, but to me that sounded like he was being forbidden.

  “I shall call to my lord’s quartermaster to tell him I will not come for some while.”

  “Gentry, son, this is like—do you remember how we discussed Battle of the Nations? And why we didn’t let you go?” Bill said. He leaned down until his elbows were resting on the countertop, so he could give this very stern, fatherly look to Gentry, who was looking at my knees.

  “Yea. Because ye believen I am not ready to be tested in battle.”

  Bill laughed. “Battle is the one thing I do think you’re ready for. The rest of it—being out in the world, dealing with people out there who
won’t accept you—that’s what we’re worried about.”

  “Let’s sit down and discuss this,” Charlene said.

  Rhys had joked about it, but I don’t think the Franks liked the idea of their little boy growing up.

  CHAPTER 31

  Gentry

  If I say yea and ye sayen nay, ’tis no discussion,” I said. ’Twas as the Witch said: I needed heat in my blood if I would stand as champion to my lady. Tho we discorded, I would not show uncourtesy to my mother and father, so I bowed to them ere I went to my room. I called the quartermaster and, tho ’twas with little warning, he offered no harsh words, for I was always dutiful in my service to him.

  I took from my cupboard a satchel and filled it with what I might need. ’Twas my habit to bathe, but I would not delay Lady Zhorzha. Little time remained, so I returned to the great room, my satchel in hand. My lady had placed her own bag upon her back and stood in the front hall with my mother and father.

  “How dare you judge the choices I have made for my son,” my mother said to her.

  “Mrs. Frank, I am not judging you. I’m saying I feel like I’m in the middle of an argument that has nothing to do with me. It’s not my job to tell Gentry what to do.” I knew many things more harsh had been said, that Lady Zhorzha called my mother Mrs. Frank and not Charlene.

  “I think you need to leave,” my mother said.

  “I understand. Thank you for everything. You all were really kind to Marcus and me.”

  Lady Zhorzha turned to the door and saw me there. I would look upon her eye to eye, to show her my resolve, but ’twas she that dropped her gaze.

  “Be this the hospitality ye taught me?” I said to my mother and father, for it angered me to hear them say such things.

  “It’s okay,” Lady Zhorzha said. “You’ve been really great and I appreciate it, but I don’t want to cause problems. I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you when I get back, Gentry. Okay?”

  Ere I could speak, she crossed the threshold. I followed her to the porch.

  “Gentry!” my mother called. She was not wroth, but she was uneaseful.

  “My lady,” I said. “Wilt thou give my regards to thy mother when thou seest her?”

  “Yeah. I’ll tell her you said hi. Thank you.” Lady Zhorzha crossed the street and forthwith drove away.

  When I returned to the front hall, my father laughed. I knew not why, but it me angered. For in all ways I shewed him the respect he was owed, but was I to be shewn no respect? Had I not done all that he hoped for me and yet more?

  “I don’t want you to pout about this,” my mother said. “You know I’m right.”

  They waited, for they would hear my answer. I had come to them a child whose native tongue was a scream. I learnt to speak. I earned proof of my learning, and took up a trade. I was accountable to myself, and oftentimes for Trang and Elana.

  From thence I had started, and I grew into a man. They knew all this and still they doubted. I knew only that if I was not ready then, I never would be.

  A knight tethered to his father’s keep was more akin to a dog. Much as ’twas an oath I swore to be my lady’s champion, ’twas also that I desired to prove myself. I believed I was worthy, but were I not tested, I could not know. I was Yvain, ever in the shadow of Sir Kay and Sir Gawain. Were I to wait til I was granted leave to go, I should have no adventures. I should live no life but a very narrow one.

  “My lady mother, I would not distress thee,” I said. “But thou hast no fair reason to keep me from this journey.”

  “I absolutely forbid it. You barely know that girl. And her uncle? The whole situation is . . .”

  Where my mother found not the word she sought, my father supplied it: “The situation is troubling. The fact that you don’t see it is a damn good reason to keep you from going.”

  “Where’s Gentry going?” Elana said, and came forth from the dining hall, for we had made such a noise she could not keep her mind upon her studies.

  “Gentry isn’t going anywhere, except to bed, and then to work tonight,” my mother said. Were her will enough, it might have been so, but ’twas not.

  “Nay, my lady, I go this hour to Missouri that I might help Lady Zhorzha.”

  “Absolutely not! You are not going.”

  My mother clenched her hands fistwise, and I feared she would pierce them with her nails, for I knew them to be sharp. Yet I would not be made to obey like a dog or a child. I gathered my satchel and made sure of my keys in my pocket.

  “Son, this has gone too far,” my father said.

  “Don’t think you can disrespect me when you live under my roof,” said my mother.

  “Charlene, let’s not go there.”

  “Oh, we’re already there. Your son needs to know he can be out on his rear just like Carlees, if he can’t obey my rules.”

  I recalled well those months when in his youth Carlees went out from hearth and home. They weren dark times, for he was sore missed. To hear such words cast me down. I wished not to be unsheltered and unloved.

  “’Tis not love thy mother would deny thee, but freedom,” the Witch said. “She would fright thee with her rebuke.”

  “Such a knight as to be frighted by his mother’s plaints,” Gawen said, ever eager to shame me.

  “I am not afraid,” I said. Tho I willed it not, I put my satchel upon my shoulder that I might lay mine hands upon my neck.

  “You’re upsetting him,” my father said.

  “Let him be upset,” said my mother. “He needs to think about this.”

  As though I gave it no thought.

  “If thou wilt send me out of thy keep for it, I doubt not thy right. I mean no scorn, ne for thee ne for my father, but methinks I am a man, and may do as I see best. I shall see you upon my return,” I said and bowed to them.

  When I went out, my mother remained within, but my father followed after.

  “Your mother is very upset,” he said.

  “And I am sorry, for I would not distress her, but I swore to serve Lady Zhorzha in all ways.”

  “I know, son. I understand an oath like that is important. Just promise me that you’ll be careful.” He put out his hand to me, and I clasped it ere I departed, but I made him no promise, for what knight ever vowed ride under a banner of caution?

  I made straightaway for the dragon’s lair, lest I miss my lady. Mayhap the dragon was as wroth as mine own mother, for ’twas very little time I waited ere Lady Zhorzha came forth. She walked not to where I stood, but to her own car, and thence looked at me.

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” she said. “Your mom seemed really mad.”

  “She is ill-pleased, but she cedeth ’tis my right to do as I will.”

  “Are you sure about this? Because I really don’t want to drag you into something.”

  “My lady, when I swore to be thy champion, ’twas ne poesy ne chatter. I stand ready and eager to serve thee. Tho ’tis better we should travel in my truck, for I think it more well-proved.”

  “Probably so.” Mayhap her hip pained her, for she leant against her car and lifted her foot from the ground. I waited that she might say what she wished, but she spake no more. I perceived I must lay upon our keep the next stone, tho ’twas heavy.

  “If thou wilt not have me as thy champion by cause thou hast no faith I can protect thee, I will say no more. If thou wilt not have me at thy side for mine own protection, thou art unjust. I am no child. I am strong enough to carry thee, and I am not afraid.”

  “I know you’re not a child. But I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she said. For some moments, she was silent, her gaze upon the sky beyond me. Much akin to me when I am folded within myself.

  “Is it thy desire to go alone?”

  She looked upon me then, and I looked back, tho ’twas a privity that bared me to her utterly. For the nonce we we
ren two together. Bonded, as the black knight said.

  “No,” she said.

  “Come, dear lady, my steed awaiteth.”

  She laughed and opened the door of her car to take up her satchel. Then she came to me in all seriousness. When I opened the door and put forth my hand, she took it that I might help her up.

  CHAPTER 32

  Zee

  While Gentry slept, I drove, rehashing my argument with his mother in my head.

  “He is not mature enough,” she’d said.

  “He doesn’t seem all that immature to me. Except for the part where you still treat him like a kid,” I’d said. I wasn’t proud of that, but I’d been thinking of how she called Gentry and Trang the boys. Trang was a boy, but Gentry was almost as old as me. I’d wanted to ask, What exactly is so immature about Gentry? Before I could, she accused me of being judgmental and told me to leave.

  Okay, he lived with his folks and shared a bedroom with his kid brother, but I was twenty-six years old, and had been sleeping on my sister’s couch. He had a better job and a nicer car than me. And he had a mortgage. If he wasn’t an adult, then what was I? I didn’t know, but I still didn’t like causing a fight between him and his parents. I was glad they’d made up before he left.

  I’d planned to drive the whole way while he slept, but after we crossed into Missouri, we stopped for lunch, and Gentry drove from there. While he was asleep, I’d driven with the radio off, and we went on like that once he was driving. No music and not talking except to point out which roads to take. It didn’t bother me as much as it had before. It felt okay being quiet together.

  I knew we were in the right place when we passed the old amusement park. When I was little, it had seemed like Worlds of Fun, which we couldn’t afford to go to. Now, it looked like something out of a horror movie, where there was a psychotic clown waiting for you in the burned-out fun house. I was going to make a joke about it, but Gentry was focused on driving, and every time I talked to him, he slowed down to pay attention to me.