Read Under Camelot's Banner for Free Online

ache in her feet was a welcome distraction. It was far from the first time she and Laurel had fulfilled such duties in their father’s house, and their people knew their business as well as the sisters did. Consequently, all was handled with what Lynet judged to be creditable dispatch.
    The hardest work was in managing proper lodging and feasting, yet keeping the two peoples apart. Colan busied himself with their chiefs, keeping the men talking peaceably of the prospects for a fair spring and summer, of the health of their cattle and horses, of the latest news and gossip from Tintagel and from Camelot. The Kynhoem and Treanhal, though, had been only partly mollified by the truce their chiefs had struck for the day. They were more than ready to trade blunt glowers and bald insults that could have easily escalated to taunts and blows. Fortunately, both Peran and Mesek recognized the problem, and were not adverse to having their men make themselves useful. At Laurel and Lynet’s bidding, their guests helped shift stores, work the stables and dig out the cellar that had collapsed under winter’s blows.
    It was a precarious peace, but it did hold through the evening meal. In this, they were lucky with the timing of these new arrivals. It was the custom to finish the day’s celebrations by feasting the tinners and their folk in the high house, so, the old hall was filled to the brim with a boisterous, merry crowd. It was no struggle to keep Kynhoem and Treanhal at separate tables. Lynet herself saw that their trenchers and their mugs were kept equally full, allowing none breath for more than praise or song. Both food and drink were as generous as could be for so early in the spring — soup of salted fish, bacon and lentils, hot boiled goose in a cold sauce of pepper and coriander, a stew of last year’s apples and plums, the finest and freshest of the bread, and great quantities of beer to wash all down pleasantly. With all this bounty, the feast lasted until well after the sun had gone down. Some among the guests could no longer stand with certainty by its end. Laurel, anticipating this, made sure there were some broad-shouldered lads to lead them gently but firmly to their quarters. Ordinarily, they would have housed most of the new comers in the great hall for the night, but Laurel judged, and Lynet agreed, that it would be more prudent to keep them well out of each others sight. So, while Lynet had supervised the feasting, Laurel had dealt with the rearrangement of persons and goods, and the grumbling that must come with that, to make places in the smaller chambers of the new hall for all ten. Mesek and Peran agreed to be conducted to their separate chambers by Laurel herself, and Bishop Austell.
    While her sister saw to that important business, Lynet lent hand and eye to making sure the good linens and plate were safely returned to the cellars, that the great fires were banked, and most importantly, that the wine and beer were stored securely back under cork and wax. She kept in motion, for the ache in her feet and back and the fog in her mind told her that if she stopped, she would fall asleep in a moment.
    Colan alone remained at the high table, swirling the dregs in his cup, seemingly lost in thought.
    Or lost in wine.
Lynet mounted the dais and plucked the cup from his fingers. “Colan, get to bed. You’ll do no one any good if you are exhausted in the morning.”
    But he only eyed her, lacing his fingers together across his stomach and stretching his long legs out under the trestle table.
    â€œWell, my sister, what do you think of this matter?”
    Lynet snorted. “You ask me? I believed you to be above woman’s council.”
Especially this woman’s.
    â€œCome now. You mistook my jokes.” His grin turned rueful as he took the cup back and swallowed the last of the wine. “My fault, I know. But what do you think?”
    His tone was so serious it left her no