Knight of Pentacles (Knights of the Tarot Book 3) Read Free Page A

resulted in the poet’s death at the hands of the lady’s male relations.
    Hence, the ban on romantic couplets kept the murder rate down.
    Since the sonnets he had found in the well were penned by a woman he did not know, he could see no harm in reading her lovely, albeit melancholy, verses.
    Sensing a hovering presence, Axel looked up from the page to find a dark-haired lad of no more than eighteen years of age standing over him. The fact that the lad was stark naked and sexually aroused might have alarmed him were he not accustomed to seeing many such “gillie-wet-foots” in the halls of Castle Le Fay—more often than not in some lewd pose with one of the ladies of the court.
    To avoid looking where he would rather not, Axel locked gazes with the young man and waited for him to state his business.
    Without delay, the page said, “Her Majesty requests that you attend her at once, my good knight.”
    He could guess what the queen wanted. She had not summoned him since just before he had granted Sir Leith MacQuill the favor of petitioning an audience with Herself. Since his friend had not returned this way, Axel could only presume he was chained in the dungeon, awaiting his fate as Avalon’s Samhain tithe to Madoc Morfryn, the Dark Lord of the Thitherworld. The thought of Leith’s imminent demise gave Axel some pain. Though his fellow knight’s visits had been few and far between in recent years, he would miss the possibility of company.
    Axel nodded toward the open book in his hand. “Tell her I shall attend her as soon as I have finished this verse.”
    “With all due respect, my lord, my instructions were to bring you to her at once.”
    “That being the case, I would never dream of keeping Her Majesty waiting.” Axel offered the page a tight-lipped smile. “For we live for her pleasure and must not make her unhappy.”
    Marking his place, he got to his feet and set the book on the table beside the chair. Having done nothing wrong, he had no reason to fear the summons. So, why had his wame grown as hard as a millstone?
    He followed the page to the chamber at the back of the cave where the portal was located. They passed through, coming out in a clearing surrounded by tall trees. The sky was clear and deep blue and the temperature was moderate. A slight breeze brought the perfume of sun-warmed wildflowers to his nostrils.
    Avalon’s climate, as always, was perfect—assuming one’s idea of perfection was an endless stretch of sunny days. Personally, he preferred the unpredictability of Scotland’s weather. Variety, it was said, was the spice of life, and he agreed wholeheartedly.
    An existence without seasoning was as bland and unexciting as the steady diet of oatmeal he was raised upon in the Highlands back in the fourteenth century. Or the life he now lived in the glen. But at least he had sunsets, starry nights, inclement weather, and seasonal changes to add a bit of flavor to the drudgery.
    Axel followed the page out of the grove to the towering iron gates of Castle Le Fay, where two sentries in vintage English uniforms stood guard. They were part of the army of mercenary vampires Queen Morgan had hired. He had learned about them the day he undertook Sir Leith’s errand.
    The thought brought on a spasm of guilt. Perhaps, if Her Majesty was feeling generous after he serviced her, she would allow him to drop by the dungeon to say his final good-byes to his ill-fated friend before returning to his post.
    After the guards let them pass, the page led the way across the rickety rope bridge to the tidal island upon which the castle stood. At the entrance, the lad handed him off to a golden-haired faery in a gossamer tunic so sheer she needn’t have bothered covering herself.
    “I am Lady Lilac, my good knight.” She dipped into a curtsey. “The new Mistress of the Bedchamber. Her Majesty has asked that I see you the rest of the way.”
    Axel did his best not to leer as she took him through the