"Truth in Love, love in Service"

(Inscribed upon sword discovered in Wales, owner unknown.)

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           Kate was never much of a drinker. To her, hard liquor tasted ...well, it just had no taste for her. This, along with her larger build and one blind eye, made interactions in "proper society" a painful experience...though she preferred other descriptions for it.

    "Shit." That one was directed at the empty keg sitting on the dusty table and dripping its final pitiful drops into Kate's empty mug. But while wine had long kept her disgust, good beer held her love for just as long. And now, after one of the worst meetings in her life, and the even worse ride along the shitty road to this even shittier tavern...the beer was gone. 

    Kate may have had only one eye, but it must have burned something fierce. As the barkeep was so scared of what might happen that he trembled even as he tried to petition her.

           "Apologies, madame. I hadn't expected..." The barkeep looked about for anything that might help, and his eyes lit up with joy as he pointed behind the hateful Kate. "There, a fresh shipment straight from Germany. I-I forget which city but you know the Germans they-"

           "A mugful will do, and you'll still be paid."                                                                       The barkeep nodded and then to his stores with all haste. He dodged about the many empty tables and chairs, and just about tripped on the uneven stone floors of his establishment. As he struggled to get the keg in question, for there were many spirits, beers, and liquors that were poorly organized in identical barrels, the barkeep heard but did not see the man opening the front door.

           Still, the barkeep tried to be a good host. "Excuse me, milord-" The Barkeep had finally found the beer he was looking for and was now trying to retrieve it from the top of the other barrels. "-I'll be right with you if you could just take a seat."

           The man, who Kate already recognized by the very purposeful stride he favored, walked over to the barkeep and retrieved the barrel on his own.

           "I'll take charge of this." There was silence, except for the heavy steps of the newcomer and the scurrying of the barkeep to the other tables. He'd made the correct decision, as the large keg of Teutonic brew was placed on the bar with a great thump. This clamor was followed by the clanking of the large man's armor, as he took his seat by Kate.                                                              "You carry a rare distinction." The man slid Kate's mug, which she'd already set aside for him to fill, towards the keg and filled it as he talked. "You, Marshall, are one of the few people whose mood improves when drunk."       

           "I don't drink that much." Kate took the mug, doing her best not to look at her drinking companion. Though she did pause a moment and looked down at her beverage with a scowl. "No more than I need at least."                                                                                                                   "Of course." His shadow was so wide that his head and shoulders loomed over Kate, who stood at a full height of 5.11. And it started to shift as he leaned over, attempting to look her in the eye. "Marshall?"

              "Yes?"

    "Would you mind turning your head a bit? It's hard for me to talk with if you're-" Kate frowned further and took a swig from her cup, obscuring her face even further. Though this did not dissuade the big man from leaving his seat and simply getting on the other side of the bar. "It's hard for me to talk when I can only see half your face."  

    Kate let her hand and mug drop as she glared at the man. And what a man he was, tall and lean, with a short and finely trimmed beard the same cinnamon-brown collar as his fine hair, and clad in oft used yet well-kept steel armor. The worried half-frown/half-smile expression he wore possessed a fatherly quality that did not belong on such a youthful face, and his amber-hued eyes captured the light of the rising sun.

    Kate had only one eye not hidden behind an eyepatch, and it was all she could do to hold his gaze. That strange and almost...inhuman amalgam of focus and empathy. "I'm fine, Galahad." Why could she look at him in battle and court? What was so different about being alone with him? He was practically a boy compared to her, and she'd had enough of romance, love, and lust.

           "For now..." She chuckled a bit as she took another drink, and thought of the past twenty years. She thought of a brash young man from Ireland, fierce, brilliant, and proud without arrogance. "Youth, and all the other futile shit that goes with it...Cu..."     

    She was no youth now though, and war had hastened whatever cynicism would come with natural aging. "What did you want." Kate did not even look up at her companion, ignoring or perhaps unaware of the growing worry in his eyes.

    "It wasn't fair, what my father said." Galahad's voice had lost its warmth and now rang with a direct and impartial tone. A deliberate tactic on his part, as he was all too familiar with these conversations. He was the peacemaker after all. 

    It was finally enough to shake Kate from her apathy. "Her escape was my fault. I shouldn't have let my guard down." Before Galahad could offer another word, Kate finished off her mug and stood. "We can talk on the road. Are the others ready?"     

    Galahad nodded, and took the keg on his shoulder, even as he left coins on the bar. The ten coins he left at the table seemed a little much for Kate.

    "I don't need that much for the road, Galahad."

    "Maybe. But the others arrived as you awoke, and they could use some refreshment." Galahad's smile had returned and kept its shape even as he held the door open for Kate.

    She normally didn't have time for such "genteel manners", but she also knew that Galahad was the sort of man who held open the door for everyone. "How does it feel?" She said with a curious, though also teasing edge. "Being a saint, I mean?"

    "If I ever find out, you'll be the first to know."

    That earned an eye-roll from Kate. Though that annoyance was quickly replaced by a steely gaze, as she looked over the assembled knights outside the inn. Twenty-five knights of Camelot, mounted on the finest steeds, wearing the finest armor, wielding Damascus steel on their swords, and all of which was forged by fey smiths and blessed by the priests at Canterbury.

    It would have to do. "We don't have time for long speeches and I don't have the patience for them at the best of times. You were told to ride here with all haste, and now we'll go on with the same pace. The traitor Morgan has escaped royal custody, and we're to bring her back. The King, my brother, has given his consent to strike her down and bring her body back if necessary."

    That earned a grim and angry murmur from the assembled knights, yet that only encouraged Kate to wrap things up. "Two of your brethren were sent ahead, and they have not returned. Vincent and Cassandra were always reckless, and I think it likely they've been killed in action. That makes this a mission of vengeance, it lies with us to bring justice to our fallen, and restore honor to knights of Camelot entire. So, let's be about it."

    She didn't need to tell them twice, as they made whatever final preparations they needed and then lined up behind their Marshall as she climbed her horse. There was a sharp pain that rang in her ribs as she settled in, and she looked down at the scratches on her brigandine. "It's just bruising, and the armor held at least." 

    Kate then raised a closed fist for all to see before thrusting it forward in a commanding fashion. The party rode on with that, the knights keeping a good pace behind her, while Galahad kept by her side.

    "Do you think they'll be enough?" He cast a peripheral glance to the riders behind them.

    "No, but that's why we're here." She let one of her hands drop from the reins and fall first to her arming sword, a fine Toledo blade, one of the new "fencing swords" or rapiers. The hand then dropped to the lance at the side of her saddle: A great spear covered in runes and made entirely out of blackened steel.

    A great howl blared out from behind the riders, and Kate turned to see the inn's guard dog, who seemed to be smiling at her and barking a goodbye. The sight was such that she turned back to her course more sharply than she had wanted, and took the spear from its rest and held it under her arm in a tight and hateful grip.

    "One more life, one more kill, and I'll finally be free of it."