He could go visit Jace or Emmett or possibly both of them. That’s exactly what he needed to get Charles out of his system. Or maybe not. Maybe he needed a little comfort; he hadn’t seen Roxy since Charles had gone, and guilt pricked at him a little. Phone calls were not the same. He definitely needed to visit her.
“I am so pathetic,” he muttered to himself as he walked into the office.
Gawain looked up, and his expression softened. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Kay said bitterly, not even attempting to gloss over anything when he saw Gawain was alone. “I’ve been chasing my Tresor for centuries, convinced that the very next bed I jump in will be theirs. I’d like to say I’ve lost count, but unfortunately I remember every one.”
“You have an unusual burden to carry,” Gawain said. “I don’t think there are many that would have that strength.”
Kay huffed but not too loudly as he knew Gawain was being sincere. He eyed the closed door to the small room they kept a cot in and medical supplies should they be needed.
Gawain followed his glance. “He didn’t stay.”
Kay wasn’t sure how to reply. “Maybe he has friends at the shelter?”
Gawain nodded absentmindedly. “I wanted your opinion actually,” Gawain said and brought up the screen he was looking at. “Can you describe the sword Charles wielded?”
Sitting down, Kay closed his eyes, grateful for the distraction, and scrolled through the events in his head like he was watching a film reel. “A very unusual handle and grip, but the sword was dark and looked weird. Didn’t look like it had any care. No jewels in the pommel like the Guardian Sword, and much broader than mine.” Kay frowned. “I think there was writing on the grip, but no language I recognized.”
“Dark?” Gawain pressed, looking at his screen depicting many swords. “You mean the blade?”
Kay nodded. “I didn’t think at the time, but the blade itself looked brown, almost rusty.”
Gawain changed the screen. “Like that?”
Kay looked at the picture. “Not that one, but yes, that color.” He peered. “Maybe it was rusty if it hadn’t been cared for?”
“Those aren’t rusty. They’re bronze and predate the swords we have by about a thousand years.”
“But that makes no sense. Why would Charles have a bronze sword?”
Gawain shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. I’ve never heard of one being used, but then I’ve never come across a Knight Hospitaller either.”
Kay leaned forward. “And that doesn’t make sense for another reason though. The Hospitallers were founded much later than Arthur’s realm. We know this, so why would he be using a sword that predates ours?”
“At the moment your guess is as good as mine. What do you mean the handle was different?”
Kay thought, then reached over and got a piece of paper from the printer. He drew a rough sketch of what he remembered. The ends of the cross guard widened and sloped downward almost like daggers, or if he was going to be really fanciful, he would say like dragon teeth. The pommel wasn’t round like nearly all their swords, but square, except that also widened at the top. “How’s the research going? Did you finish the notebooks?”
“As the Ursus have kept us busy every night, I haven’t had time for much research.” Guilt crossed his features. “Would you mind if I ask Charles to help me finish them?”
Yes. “Of course not. The little I have to see him the better,” he added. Except it wasn’t true, and he didn’t know how he was going to survive.
“Lance would ask him not to return.” Gawain winced. “Actually, I don’t think he’d take much asking, and if he didn’t take the hint, I’m sure Lucan would assist.”
“No,” Kay agreed. Lance had been suspicious of Charles’s arrival. But he had saved his life. The woman would have killed him. “Have you ever come across that before, Gawain?”
“The woman changing from and back to an Ursus?” Kay nodded in relief that Gawain instantly knew what he was asking.
“We are the only ones with experience of the Ursus, but there is a lot of Celtic mythology associated with one being having many faces.” He paused. “But that’s not really what you’re asking, is it?”
Kay didn’t answer, but he guessed he didn’t have to. “Charles can stay.” Or should he? He hadn’t lived with Tom when he was a child.
“Father Joseph would give him a room.”
Kay knew that, but he also knew their house had so many empty ones,