“It’s not a power on earth that I’m worried about,” Ser Gabriel said. “I have to do this.”

Gavin slammed his fist on the table, took Gabriel’s silver cup, crushed it in his fist and hurled it across the room. Then he stalked out, his sabatons ringing on the stone floor.

Bad Tom watched him go, and then put a meaty hand on the Red Knight’s armoured shoulder. “He’s better than you,” he said.

Ser Gabriel’s face hardened.

Chapter Six

The Company

Amicia was awakened in the darkness by Sister Katherine. She dressed quickly, with the help of the sisters, in a plain yellow kirtle with a belt of green leaves. Sister Mary had plaited flowers from the monk’s garden, and they put them in her hair, and then all the sisters prayed over her. She felt the adamant of their shared prayers close over her—a strong protection.

Outside, she mounted her horse more easily than she might have ten days before.

In the torchlight, she could see that the day was damp and foggy. The torches at the gates of the abbey were softly glowing specks like sparkle-bugs on a summer evening, and the knights—all of them in full harness—were already cursing the damp and the effect it would have on their armour. There were no stars visible.

The Red Knight sat alone, his armour brilliant. He looked slightly incongruous as he was on his riding horse in a riding saddle to preserve his war horse for the joust, and his feet went down rather too far towards the ground. He was staring into the fog. Ser Michael and Ser Thomas were doing all the work of gathering the column—a column stripped of anyone but knights and squires, a handful of veteran pages in harness, spare horses and lances.

The abbey courtyard heard more oaths and blasphemy in the next minutes than it had heard in fifty years. Amicia could hear the bravado and the fear, the heightened awareness. These men were afraid. Proud, but afraid.

Ser Michael came and bowed. “Ready on time and pretty as a picture,” he said, with a hard smile.

She nodded. “May I speak to him?” she asked.

“Better not,” Ser Michael said.

The Red Knight’s brother emerged—late—from his lodging and fussed with his right knee until Toby came and re-buckled something while Nell stood close with a torch, and then Ser Gavin—the Green Knight, as they all called him now—mounted stiffly and turned his horse. He said something—thanks, probably—to Nell, and rode to his brother’s side. That pleased Amicia, who hated to see people quarrel at the best of times.

The Green Knight handed the Red Knight a baton, which he flourished. He pointed silently at the gates, and monks swung them open.