Black Moon Draw(49)

My attention drifts back to the Shadow Knight. Deep in my gut, I suspect I’m here to help him get revenge. But how ignoble of a Hero does that make him to want revenge for something that occurred a thousand years ago, the result of a curse placed by an angry woman who just saw her husband slain?

I feel for her, but if I’m the person she counted on hacking off the heads of every enemy the Shadow Knight has, she’s wrong. I’m barely a battle-witch let alone the one capable of bringing every Knight here to his knees.

I hate the feeling sinking through me, the one of regret and insecurity, the sting of failure, even if it’s not my fault I’m not magical enough. I don’t like the idea of disappointing anyone. The Shadow Knight is better off trying to win his battles without me then running off into the sunset to live a perfect life with Disney Princess.

“They are battling over who speaks first,” the squire whispers to me.

Blinking out of my thoughts, I look again at the two fighting. “Who speaks first?”

“Aye. Because of the blood feuds between everyone” – he waves his hand at the Knights – “they hold a match to determine who is the first to speak.”

Like a deadly match of drawing straws. “What do they speak about? The Shadow Knight killing everyone?”

“Aye. He has defeated seven of the Knights here in battle. Brown Sun Lake has risen again to challenge him. Their feud goes on for a thousand years.”

“Since . . .”

“Since the great warrior queen Naia of Black Moon Draw cursed their lands and all within them.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to talk about that,” I say, uneasy to realize how accurate my dream was.

The squire glances at me, and I see a glimmer of something I hadn’t noticed before in his gaze: intelligence, thoughtfulness. The kid I’ve barely given the time of day is as alive as I am. I’m touched by the thought I haven’t tried to have a real conversation with him, and he’s tried his hardest to help me.

“I can tell you,” he says quietly. “The Shadow Knight said so.”

“But he can’t.”

The squire solemnly shakes his head. “’Tis forbidden, once a man becomes a full-grown warrior. To speak of the past before battle, after battle, or during battle is to invite it to reoccur. No warrior may speak of it.”

I’m pretty sure he wasn’t put with me because of his ability to wield the sword at his back. I didn’t bother asking myself why I’m stuck with this kid. That he knew things I’ve been beating my head against a wall to uncover didn’t occur to me until now.

“You can tell me what happened a thousand years ago,” I say, turning to look at him.

“What is known, aye.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” I slap his arm.

He backs away, bewildered.

The men erupt into cheers. I face them once more. The Shadow Knight’s arms are crossed, and his boar’s head is snarling. Assuming he lost the match, I start forward.

“Come on, squire,” I say over my shoulder.

At once, every Knight and other man on the roof stops and turns. Their unfriendly looks range from resentment to suspicion to anger.

I stop at the wall of bristling men, not certain what’s going on. Am I not allowed on the roof? Is LF going to write me a how-to manual of otherworldly protocol anytime soon?

One draws his sword, followed by three more.

“A reminder that you are all guests in my home,” the Red Knight says calmly, stepping out in front of them.

“You were supposed to end this before dawn!” one snarls back.

“’Tis not dawn yet, is it?”

“How much did we pay you?” another growls.

Uh, oh. Looks like I walked into something I shouldn’t have.

“Witch,” the Shadow Knight’s growl is one I’m not really thrilled to be on the receiving end of.

My squire is struggling to pull his sword free from his back without toppling over. Rolling my eyes, I take his shoulder to steady him. He won’t be more than a speed bump if the men here try to attack us.

“Calm, brothers,” the Red Knight is saying. “We have an understanding.”

The Knights aren’t convinced. “Let me have that thing,” I whisper to the squire.

“No. ‘Tis my duty –”

“You can barely hold it!”

Dismay crosses his features, followed by determination. “I will die defending the last great battle-witch. I cannot fail you again.”

It’s clear he’s not going to give me the damn sword, and I have the magical prowess of a Smurf.

The Shadow Knight joins the Red Knight.

“As prophesized, I have claimed the last great battle-witch,” he booms. “You called me here in a dishonorable attempt to kill her and bring an era of darkness upon the lands that are rightfully mine.” Whipping off his cloak, he slowly draws his axe and a short sword the size the squire should be carrying.

“A thousand years ago your family ruled these lands, but they no longer do.” It’s the Desert Knight who speaks. I recognize the color of his tunic from my dream. “My ancestors defeated the Knight of Black Moon Draw, and I will do it again now.”

The squire inches closer to me. I should’ve stayed downstairs. It doesn’t take someone from this place to realize the two men are ready to come to blows.