The Darkest Knight (Guardians of Camelot #3) - Victoria Sue Page 0,15

and even if it hurt, the temptation to have him close was very strong.

“You said you didn’t recognize the symbols on the grip?”

Kay almost smiled. Gawain’s mind was like a trap; he just wasn’t in the mood for humor. He added the shapes he’d seen, but none were complete letters, if they were even letters at all. He drew what he could and handed it to Gawain. “A lot of it was hidden by Charles’s fingers.” His throat tightened.

Gawain shot him an understanding look, then took the paper from Kay’s hands and scrolled through the swords. “Have you seen this sword before?”

Kay shook his head. “It isn’t one that belongs to any of the knights I have ever fought with.” Gawain was staring intently at the drawing. “But there is a chance I didn’t see them all. We had over sixty thousand of our own forces there as you know, plus Mordred’s. And I wasn’t near the main force. Palamedes had a thought to circle them from the back. I led that.”

It had been a failure. Mordred had known and sent the Ursus to defeat them. His men had been struck down with so little effort he had been ashamed, and now he was just ashamed of himself. It was supposed to have been his first command, but all he had done was lead forty men to their slaughter. At seventeen he had been so starry-eyed with their cause and full of the importance Palamedes had placed in him, his first emotion had been the crushing disappointment he had failed. He would never forget it hadn’t been the sorrow for all the lives he had lost, and he would carry that shame with him forever.

And he hadn’t even died immediately. He’d been cut down and had lain in agony to watch them all die until Merlin had found him.

“I’m sure I’ve seen this before.” Gawain brought him up from the black pit of his memories.

“The sword?”

“Yes, but I can’t think where. And I would have to check, but if the symbols are current with the age of the sword, then they may be either Common Brittonic or Old Welsh. That’s assuming the sword is of UK origin of course.”

Kay wasn’t sure what he could say to be helpful. “Was this Brittonic a written language?” He knew that wasn’t often the case. Gawain’s enthusiastic smile shone.

“Actually, there was a tablet found in Bath, England, in 1979 with inscriptions they think may have been Brittonic. Of course, it devolved into Pictish, and Brittonic itself is a form of Insular Celtic.”

“Of course,” Kay agreed solemnly, and Gawain shot him a rueful grin.

“I would have to do some research.” Gawain’s eyes gleamed. Kay did smile this time. Gawain’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“Is it something I may assist you with?”

And there goes anything to smile about.

Gawain looked up at the sound of Charles’s voice and immediately waxed lyrical about Brittonic and Insular Celtic and Old Welsh. Kay slipped quietly from the office, grateful for Gawain’s distraction without even meeting Charles’s eyes. He had no idea where Charles had come from unless concentrating on Gawain had made him miss the sound of the door opening. He walked straight to the door, pushed his feet into his favorite Prada Saffiano Chelsea boots, and taking his keys, left the house.

Charles contained his sigh, knowing he deserved the reaction, and turned to Gawain. “I have no experience or knowledge with the languages you speak of.”

Gawain nodded. “That’s not surprising though, as you are younger than us.”

And yet I feel so much older. Charles glanced at the drawing Gawain was scanning and watched as it appeared on the large screen in front of him. A memory teased at him. “I feel I have seen that before.”

Gawain nodded. “As do I.”

“Kay didn’t, I take it, or you would know?”

“No, but he wasn’t with the main forces, although he spent many years at Camelot, so I doubt if it were a knight’s sword anyway. There are no accounts of special swords associated with the Hospitallers,” Gawain added after a moment.

Charles nodded. He knew his history, or rather he knew the official history. The times when he wasn’t cooking or looking after Tom, he had spent hours reading. Pastor Miles wanted him there at the start of the day and the end so he wouldn’t have to pay him fully. They both heard the door open and Mel grumbling he was hungry and they could at least have stopped for a bagel before rushing