Best Knight Ever (A Kinda Fairytale Book 4)

by Cassandra Gannon

  Gryphons did not worry often, but Trystan began to worry.

  “I am not upset.” Trystan muttered. “I just do not like that you’re upset. My meeting Konrad alone was not a diminishment of my….” P’don, now he was the one hunting for wingless words. “My respect for you as a warrior. I just do not want you involved in the tracking of my enemies.”

  “I get that.” The knight reached the elevator panel and pushed the up button. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “You still seem upset.”

  “No. I just feel a little left out. But I’ll recover.” Galahad shrugged. “It’s completely understandable why you wouldn’t want to be allies on this mission. This is your thing. And I don’t even carry a sword, right?”

  Galahad smiled, like all was well, but he stood several inches farther away than he usually did. At the beginning of their journey, he’d arranged himself like that. Ever since the snake tomb, he’d been slowly moving closer. Trystan hadn’t really noticed the slight, almost imperceptible changes, but now he saw them happening rapidly in reverse. The physical and mental distance grew, as Galahad cautiously pulled back from him. That mysterious core of him was locked tighter than ever.

  Thus far, most of their disagreements had been about the chaos Galahad caused and which of them was the ya’lah. The knight refused to stop helping idiots or acknowledge the truth about his heroic destiny, so conflict was inevitable. But he did not become distant from Trystan when they quarreled about it.

  This wasn’t right.

  Trystan was unsure how to fix the new wariness in the man. He tried to use his feelings to navigate, but they were all screaming different things and impossible to understand. In desperation, he fell back on Elaine’s stories. Whenever he asked, she’d explained that the moonlit creatures could not be caught. (And he’d asked often. The tale had been his obsession.) If you saw one, you should never grab at it and scare it away. It would just vanish from your grasp. Instead, you needed to let it come to you. Show it that you meant no harm and it would drift towards you of its own accord.

  Misty beings would only get closer, if you proved yourself safe.

  “The Yellow Boots killed two of my clans.” Trystan said abruptly. “I will kill their leader tomorrow.”

  Galahad’s head snapped up to look at him, shocked by that news and that Trystan was volunteering it. It was the first time that Trystan had ever seen him truly speechless.

  The elevator door bing-ed open. Rather than hustling Galahad where he wanted him, Trystan stepped inside and waited. No ropes binding him. No pulling him along. He took a deep breath and forced himself to do nothing.

  The knight followed him into the lift and stood slightly closer than he had before.

  Trystan cleared his throat, more thankful than ever for Elaine. “I have a list of men to kill. Who deserve to die for their actions during the War.” He told Galahad, pressing onward since this tactic seemed to be working. “Marcus is at the top.”

  “Sounds like a very organized way to assassinate people.” Galahad punched the button for the top floor, his voice calm. “Shouldn’t I be on the list?”

  “No!” Trystan protested indignantly and then hesitated for a beat. “Well, you were, but I crossed you out, long ago, for Gwen and Avi’s sake.”

  “That’s thoughtful.” The knight watched the numbers light up over the door.

  “The Yellow Boots helped Uther find my village, when I was a boy. This is how my parents and grandparents died. Years later, they destroyed the zoo. Marcus was there that night. I will kill him for what he took from me and from the world. Then, I will hunt down all the other Yellow Boots and kill them, too.”

  “Alright.” Galahad said quietly.

  “You see why I am on this mission, yes?” Trystan prompted when Galahad said nothing else. “Do you see why I am doing all this?”

  Galahad looked right at him. That was a promising sign. His eyes traveled over Trystan’s face and studied him for a beat. “I see that you’re as trapped in the past as I am.”

  Trystan’s brief moment of optimism faded. “I do not dwell on the past. I fought on the right side, regardless of the outcome. I have no regrets.”

  “You dwell on your enemies, though. Maybe I’m broken in a lot of ways since the War, but so are you. Do you really plan to track down and slaughter a whole list full of people? Even if they deserve it?”

  “Of course. Why else would I make the list?”

  “How many people are on the list, though? A lot? Because Konrad said it could take years to search the various kingdoms and find them all.”

  “I have time.”

  “And nothing better to do with it?”

  Trystan frowned, wanting him to understand. “My enemies must die.” Planning their deaths had kept him alive in the Wicked, Ugly and Bad Mental Health Treatment Center and Maximum Security Prison. “Marcus helped Uther capture me, as well. I spent three years in a jail cell, because of him. I understand that you now reject killing…”

  “I don’t reject killing this Marcus bastard.” Galahad interrupted seriously. “I would happily kill him myself, if you couldn’t do it just fine on your own. When people hurt you, I always want them dead. You saw my reaction in Ayren’s village about the zookeeper. My desire to live in peace means nothing compared to your safety.”

  Trystan warmed. “You do not need to kill Marcus for me. I am looking forward to doing it myself.”

  “I can see that. Honestly, I don’t think Marcus is the biggest threat to you, right now, so I’m not focused on him. He’ll be dead in a few hours. At the moment, I only care about protecting you.”

  “The man poses no threat to me…”

  Galahad cut him off, again. “No one poses a threat to you… Except you. And my protecting you also means protecting you from yourself, when you’re about to make a mistake. None of the men on your list are more important than your family.”

  Trystan’s frown deepened. “I never said they were more important than my clan.”

  “But you’re going to leave Camelot to hunt Yellow Boots, right?”

  “Only because I must leave…”

  “Why?” Galahad interrupted again. “Are these jackasses really worth more of your time than Avi? Playing with her? Being with her as she grows up?”

  “I give all that I am to Avalon.” Trystan shot back. “Everything in me, I give to her without reservation. You are twisting this around.”

  “Am I? Trust me, Trys. I’ve been exiled for over a year and it sucks. I have missed time with my goddaughter and with Gwen that I will never get back. Avi will barely remember me, now. Do you want that?”

  No. Being forgotten by Avalon and his clan was the stuff of nightmares. Trystan cleared his throat, unsettled by the turn of the conversation. “The child did not forget you. She told me she loves you and that you are her third best friend.” He paused. “I am her second best friend, obviously.”

  “Obviously.” Galahad’s voice contained humor now, but his gaze was still clouded. “Because you were there with her when she needed you and I was far away. The way you will be far away, if you go looking for men to kill, instead of staying in Camelot to watch over her. You lost two clans to Yellow Boots and now you want to give them another?”

  The logic of that was inescapable and Trystan didn’t like it.

  He shook his head. “My enemies must die. The Yellow Boots are traitors to their own people. There is nothing worse.”

  “I know you hate traitors, but…”

  “Everyone hates traitors. They are the scum of existence.”

  Galahad sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

  It suddenly occurred to Trystan that the knight had been banished for treason.

  P’don.

  He quickly tried to fix this new mess. “I was not calling you a traitor. Why are you even thinking that?”

  “Because, I am a traitor. Literally. I was exiled for betraying the crown.”

  “Yes, but the crown in question wa
s worn by that dickhead Arthur.” To Trystan’s way of thinking, the real traitors were the knights who took vows of honor and then served the king in the face of his cruelty. “Arthur was a staggering moron who only staggering morons would follow.”

  “The court-martial didn’t agree.”

  “No lives were lost with your actions. You saved lives, unlike the Yellow Boots.”

  Silence.

  “Look, none of my shit matters, now.” Galahad finally decided. “Just… think about what I’ve said about your revenge mission. Okay? Think about what your parents would want for your future. A clan who loves you …or an endless mission to kill pointless assholes?”

  Trystan scowled. “I can have both.”

  “Can you? For every choice you make, you give up something else. Be sure what you’re surrendering isn’t worth more than what you’ll gain.”

  “I am surrendering nothing.” Trystan reiterated firmly. “In the end, I will have all that I desire.”

  “I hope so.” The elevator door opened on their floor and Galahad stepped out. “Is this why you haven’t slept with me, yet? Because, you thought I would try to stop you from leaving Camelot?”

  “No.” His reasons were far more selfish and revolved around stealing Galahad from his True Love.

  Galahad nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. He went inside the room, apparently still willing to share it with Trystan. That was something, anyway. “Do you still want to look for Atlantis with me?”

  Trystan was startled by the question. “Of course. We agreed to be allies in the quest, did we not?”

  “In that quest? Yeah.” Far from continuing his campaign to dissuade Trystan from leaving Camelot, Galahad began undressing, like he planned to return to bed. “If you need to do your own thing, I get it. But you should do it after we find the graal.”

  Trystan frowned, irritated at how often the knight was saying “I get it” when he clearly didn’t. “I am just going to kill Marcus tomorrow. I will obviously not search out more of my enemies until after we find Atlantis.” He snapped, offended that was even in question.

  “Good. Because, I really think you’re the only one who can find the graal, Trystan. Really. It has to be you who breaks the curse.”

  “I am not the ya’lah, knight.” He bolted the door, engaging every lock and then testing them. “You are the ya’lah and so you will break the curse.”

  “No. That’s your job. You’re the ya’lah. Think about it logically and you’ll see I’m right.”

  Trystan was not going to get sidetracked with this nonsense. They’d been going round and round with the arguments since the fire cave, both of them insisting that the other was wrong. At the moment, he had bigger problems. “You are done haranguing me about my mission, then?”

  “Pretty much.” Galahad tossed his shirt onto a chair.

  The ease with which he let the matter drop irritated Trystan even more. Only a complete imbecile would find fault in the knight’s realistic and supportive response to all of this, but it was pissing Trystan off. “And you are not angry about this plan?”

  “I told you, I don’t like to get angry. I’m just… bothered.”

  “Bothered?” What the hell emotion was that?

  “Yeah. I’m concerned that you’re going to get lost in your vengeance and not find your way back out. You could waste your whole life and never get to live it. Like a ghost.”

  Trystan stilled, remembering Fisher’s warning to make better choices than he had. To never be like him. To not roam the world without bright hopes or a true path. Trystan shook memories of the old man away.

  “But you seem sure of your plan, so it’s probably better to skip the fighting, right?” Galahad went on, like he wanted to stop talking about it. He did not seem to consider any of Trystan’s plans worth an argument.

  Trystan didn’t like that.

  “I had thought you’d continue your attempts to dissuade me, knight.” He prodded, trying to provoke a more satisfactory response.

  Galahad tilted his head. “Nothing I say will change your mind, will it?” He didn’t even wait for an answer. “No one’s ever changed their plans for me. Don’t worry. I won’t push you about becoming the first.”

  Trystan didn’t appreciate being lumped in with others, especially when those others were colossally stupid. Galahad excelled at harassing him into doing all sorts of ridiculous things. Why did he not care to even try this time? Trystan felt… hurt by the lack of effort the man was putting into keeping them together. If their situations were reversed, Trystan would have had the knight tied up again by now, if that’s what it took to ensure Galahad remained beside him.

  Trystan cleared his throat, again. “I am the first man who promised to care for you, so it would seem logical that you’d have concerns about my absence. That you would wish to complain about my plans to leave, even temporarily.”

  “What would be the point?” Galahad asked, as if he’d already surveyed the terrain, calculated the inevitable outcome of the skirmish, and decided to cede the ground.

  Trystan’s lips thinned in irritation.

  That was exactly what Galahad had done during the War. He’d never lost a battle, in part, because he fought only the ones that he knew he’d win. The rest of the time, he was willing to wait out his enemies, take smaller losses, and retreat. Sunk cost meant nothing to him. He’d stop advancing on a dime, if he thought one more step was too many. That unpredictable, egoless, patient approach to warfare had driven Trystan crazy then and it drove him crazy now.

  “Fine.” He ground out.

  Galahad’s head tilted, as if sensing that Trystan wasn’t pleased with his reactions. “No one could talk me out of my mission and you’re way more stubborn than I am. That’s all I’m saying. I would never try to get in your way.”

  “Nothing will get in my way.” Trystan made it a challenge. “More than anything, I want to kill my enemies. I told you this was my dream, yes?”

  It was still his dream, right? It had to be. He’d been planning it for years.

  Galahad shrugged. “That’s what you said, alright.”

  Instead of reassuring Trystan, his acceptance just made it seem like the man had already given up on him. Trystan did not like being seen as a lost cause. The alleged “best knight ever” should not just give up on people so easily. He should berate Trystan about his wrongheaded ideas. He should try to give Trystan a new dream.

  “Fine.” Trystan said again. What else were you supposed to say to someone who was agreeing with you, even when you were wrong?

  There was a long moment of uneasy silence.

  The knight frowned, like he was hunting for a less charged topic. “So, uh, the guy downstairs seemed a little… troubled.” He said as if Konrad’s part in this tale vaguely interested him. “I think he wanted me to meet his mom, right?”

  “It’s hard to know what inhabits Konrad’s mind.” Trystan didn’t consider that a lie. Konrad was a fucking idiot. “It’s best to think of him as a pathetic simpleton.” He paused. “And also a eunuch.”

  Galahad nodded. “Should we do something to help him?”

  “He fought with me in many battles. It left scars, I’m sure.” Trystan touched the side of his head, indicating the many and varied psychological issues that possibly plagued Konrad. “Konrad is assisting me in Marcus’ death, but do not be alone with him. Or his mother. It would lead to… Bad things.”

  “You think I could stir up traumatizing memories for the poor guy? Because I was a knight and he’s a gryphon?”

  “Oh, I think he would be traumatized. Yes.” Trystan would slaughter that son of a bitch if he came near Galahad. That would no doubt be very traumatizing for poor Konrad.

  “Well, I’ll avoid him, then. I wouldn’t want to give him a setback.” Galahad sighed, distracted by some do-Gooding he could do. “There really should be more mental health programs for veterans on both sides.”

  Trystan made an “umm” sound of agreement. “I
’m sure you will start a few.” The Camelot’s Wounded Knights Association had already appointed Galahad an honorary board member for life, after he invented a device that helped blind soldiers “feel colors.” Whatever the hell that meant.

  There was another beat of silence.

  “You know,” Galahad said suddenly, in the faraway tone he always used when something new and strange occurred to him, “Marcus stole three years of your life, but…” He trailed off again, like he wasn’t sure he should finish that thought.

  “Yes?” Trystan prompted, eager for the knight to continue lecturing him. If he stopped caring what Trystan did, it was one step closer to Galahad disappearing back into his own world and leaving him grasping at air. “Tell me.”

  Galahad hesitated. “Well, I was just thinking…” He turned and met Trystan’s eyes. “If your path sent you to prison, wasn’t it always your path to go to prison? Like, you were supposed to be there, so events would unfold in a certain way?

  “Paths are not linear. The choices we made guide them.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t been in prison, you would’ve been fighting in the War. That would have been your choice.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you are a great warrior, Trystan. The greatest in the world. But not even you could have won the whole thing, by yourself. It still would’ve come down to Legion, only this time you could have been there with the other gryphon fighters. You would’ve done all you could to stop the destruction of the town.”

  “I would like to think so.” Trystan agreed quietly. But he was not the greatest warrior in the world. One of them, yes. But there was a lavender-eyed knight who could match him.

  “I was there.” Galahad continued. “I saw my men shoot that village with the Rath, a weapon that never should have been invented. I saw your warriors fall from the sky and hit the burning ground. If you had been there, you’d be dead. I would have killed you.”

  Trystan said nothing, because that was probably true.

  “And if you were dead, Midas would have died in prison, right? And without him and you to help them, Gwen and Avi would’ve died at the Scarecrows hands. You told me all about that.” Galahad’s head tilted. “So, if you look at it a certain way… Marcus saved all of you.”