The Reckless Oath We Made(121)

When Gentry turned back to me, he brought his chin up from his chest. His right hand slowly squeezed his sword, and the world tilted back into balance.

“Nay,” he said. “Thou art welcome, my lady. My heart is gladful to see thee, tho I know not how to answer thine entreaties for forgiveness, for most urgently I would ask thy forgiveness.”

“Oh, crap, Gentry. You freaked me out with that surfer redneck voice. Why would you even ask for—what is there for me to forgive?”

“I neglected my oath to thee. I was thy champion, and I abandoned thee.”

“No. You didn’t. You were so brave. And you did what you had to do,” I said, but he shook his head. “How are you? Are you okay here?”

“I am well. This place be full of knaves and godless motherfuckers, but I fear them not. And the time is short enough. Mayhap only two years more.”

“Why are they trying to make you talk funny?” That was how it felt, and not because he said motherfucker.

“Dr. Kimber desireth that I speak as he speaketh. He biddeth me also take physic to silence my voices, but no physic has yet been made as will quiet Gawen.”

I knew he was making a joke, but I couldn’t laugh about it.

“And how farest thee, my lady?”

“I put money in your commissary account, because that’s what the women in my family are good at. I don’t mean—I’m not saying you’re like my father. Anyway. I brought you a couple things. Marcus drew this for you.”

I took out the envelope the guards had let me bring in and unfolded the drawing for Gentry to look at.

“He still talks about you showing him how to sword fight. For his birthday, I got him one of those Playmobil sets with the k-nights.” I said it with the k. “He wanted to draw this for you, since he can’t come see you.”

Gentry leaned forward to look at the picture, and I think he smiled.

“How is thy nephew?”

“It’s pretty confusing for him. The court gives me visitation two weekends out of the month, and maybe I’m going to get him for the whole month of July this summer, because his grandparents are going to France. Sometimes we go see his mother, but he doesn’t like it, which I get. I was that way about going to see my dad. And Mom, she can’t go see LaReigne. Or she won’t go, I guess. She won’t leave the house, which is a wreck. Every time I try to do something about it, she gets mad at me.”

“Thou mayest not command a dragon do thy bidding. She hath her own ways in her own time,” he said.

It made me laugh, when I usually wanted to cry thinking about Mom. There was something about her as a dragon that made it easier to let it go. How could I make a dragon do anything?

“What be this?” Gentry put his finger down on the corner of the picture, where Marcus had drawn Leon. It looked more like a ghost couch than it did a dog.

“That’s your dog,” I said.

“I have no dog.”

“You do if you want him. Do you remember the dog you made friends with at my uncle’s house?”

“I remember it well.”

“After I went back to my uncle’s house, I took the dog. He’s living with me.”

“Methinks ’tis thy dog,” Gentry said, and he was definitely smiling. I didn’t know what Leon thought, whether he was my dog. Maybe I only wanted him to be Gentry’s dog, so I would have something of Gentry’s.

“I named him Leon, kind of after Yvain.” After I butchered the title in French, Gentry said it right. Le chevalier au lion.

“My lady, tell me true. Yvain, it thee liketh?”

“I haven’t finished it yet. And I know, it’s been a long time, but I’m kind of scared to, because I’m afraid Yvain’s going to get himself killed. He’s the nicest guy, but kind of a sucker, and he’s reckless.” As soon as I said it, I remembered I was talking about Gentry’s hero. “I mean, he’s noble and very brave, but I can’t do sad endings right now.”

“Nay, all is well. Sir Yvain liveth.”

“Oh, that’s good.” I really was relieved.

“And his lady wife forgiveth him. For one must have mercy on sinners, the story says. I fear thou wilt not forgive me, for I shall not return ere a year and a day.”

I wasn’t sure what he was asking me for. Forgiveness? To wait for him?

“Since it’s my fault you’re here, I totally forgive you,” I said.

“Dame Rosalinda writ me that thou carried her to Bryn Carreg. ’Twas kind of thee to go in my stead. She said ye two scattered Sir Edrard’s ashes upon the northern hill.”

“Yeah. Better cell reception up there.” I was a jackass for making the joke, but I was shitty at serious conversations, and we’d gotten to the serious stuff so fast.

I opened the envelope again and took out the other thing I’d brought. I hadn’t been able to figure out how to print a panoramic picture, so I ended up with three pictures taped together. I unfolded them before I laid it out on the table, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at Gentry looking at the view from his tower. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, either, because him sitting there looking at the picture without saying anything was killing me.

“I don’t know if they’ll let you keep this, because I know they have rules about how many photos you can have, and this is really three instead of one. I’ll try and figure out how to get it printed on one piece of paper.” He still hadn’t said anything so I kept talking. “I didn’t think it would be so pretty in the fall, but the leaves—the trees with the bright orange leaves, I don’t know what they are, but they’re beautiful.”