“I have gathered you all here today to propose a new solution to our questing—with a minor side of treason.” I smiled at the five other people sitting around the small circular table I’d set up in the study for this discussion. The privacy runes were active, my notes were in front of me, and I was ready to shift our fates.

  “Treason has two variations, and neither is minor,” Sephy stated coolly. She sat upright and imperious in her chair. We’d not spoken properly since yesterday—she’d tried, but I’d fled into the library. I could’ve perhaps been more diplomatic. My excuse was that I was busy doing research for my new plan, and it was an excuse I was pleased she hadn’t probed. If she’d asked a few more questions, all my thoughts would’ve come gushing out with no lies to hide behind.

  I was also disappointed that she’d left me to it. The warring sensations in my mind I’d crushed under research into all manner of agreements, ancient rules, treaties, and historical accords to drown out the discord.

  “I have just survived one great insult to the Houses. I’m hardly keen to begin another,” Kay grumbled. Next to her, Tristan gave a nod.

  “I cannot engage in anything politically challenging without my seniors’ permission,” Tristan said. It was a very Tristan-like response.

  “I’ll hear you out.” Maeve was watching me carefully, as though waiting for me to perform a trick.

  I turned to the last member of our group. Gaz remained silent. I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “I’m not saying anything. You have a flair for the dramatic that’d outshine the moon. I’m assuming you’ll get to the point soon.”

  “You’re no fun,” I grumbled at the new Knight.

  “Lady Persephone De Graille,” I saw her frown as I used her full name—it seemed as uncomfortable for her to hear as it felt for me to say. “I don’t believe your plan presents the best chance of success.”

  “Well, it was made before you somehow chatted Lancelot into reaching Iron.” She smiled a touch as she said that. Despite our conflict, we were all pleased for Lance. She’d headed off later in the evening after our conversation, flying out on Gring, only to return with the setting sun, in the throes of her ascension, slumped over Gring and starting to ooze impurities.

  It was a testament to Gring’s care for his soon-to-be pact companion that the fastidious horse hadn’t dropped her. I thought alchemical brews could leave behind some noxious filth, but the gunk was beyond even that. I finally understood why the others had been so jealous of me for avoiding them. Thankfully, the servants had people specifically trained for such events who carefully took her somewhere secluded and easy to clean.

  Gring was given a full bath, in an ancient horse-sized tub dragged out of some forgotten storage. Given how long he’d stayed in it, I feared he’d have a new obsession.

  Lance was likely to finish up sometime today, which explained her absence. Bors wasn’t joining us as he was working with Gring to prepare the horse to shift his soul bond to Lance. I’d not invited Arthur or Gawain, for reasons that were obvious.

  “Even before her ascension, I don’t believe it made the best use of our assets.” I pushed back at Sephy, trying to keep my voice even.

  “Do go on. I’d love to hear your criticism.” She leaned in, her eyes locked on mine, daring me to continue. I could feel her intent rush me—a taste of blood that gave way to the weight of iron.

  “I ask the table: what would be your main challenge with joining this quest?”

  “Abandoning the people sickens me. If it moves on in such a way, I will not be joining the quest,” Kay responded curtly. I saw Sephy go to argue, but we exchanged a look.

  “Is that why we’re here? To drag my idea through the mud?”

  “No. I’m here to arm you with the tools to convince your allies,” I replied. The idea was a complete non-starter, and we needed to move past it.

  “Is that the only reason?” she asked, her glare intensifying as I remained silent. My tongue was unable to refute her, and my anger stirred.

  “I am of the opinion the risk comes from Arthur being identified and our way blocked as the local powers seek a way to thumb their noses at Albion. Worse, it places a risk of capture and ransom that is unacceptable if the importance of this quest is to be believed,” Tristan cut in, breaking the silence between us. Maeve nodded and stated much the same point of view.

  “I am of a similar mindset. I think the politics are rough. I’m not even certain I can commit to joining Prince Arthur’s entourage. It might be seen as the Orkneys choosing sides.” Gaz looked thoughtful. He was watching me, waiting for me to explain, and I appreciated his faith. But there was still one more person to speak.

  I turned to Sephy. She raised an eyebrow, but I didn’t flinch. “You wish for me to state the biggest challenge of my own plan?”

  “I refuse to believe you’ve not analysed this from every angle, including its flaws.”

  “Fine. The biggest challenge? I’m not certain Arty will be able to avoid getting involved if he sees some injustice.”

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  I grinned at her, and she growled back at me.

  “I have plans to minimise that risk!”

  “I don’t grin at the knowledge that the Prince is so principled, but because it seems my solution presents an answer to all our concerns.”

  “As Lance isn’t here, I feel it’s my duty to say I’m going to kick you if you don’t get to the point,” Gaz called out.

  “Fine, fine. My challenge is this: Arthur may have been essential, but why was he in charge?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Chivalric Law, Taliesin? As a direct son of the King of Albion, he has rank. He will be seen as in charge no matter what we say. Even if I were to take control as second in rank, the assumption is that we would be equally responsible. Then we’d strain Chox allies and unite the enemies of the Chox and Albion against us.” Maeve answered, her brow creased.

  Her acting had eased somewhat after I’d managed to give her some coaching, which mostly revolved around just treating me like a friend. That conversation had been akin to biting into a rotten apple. It’d been a shock to find that the Chox scion didn’t have many friends, so we instead settled on modelling her behaviour around the few rivals she enjoyed the company of.

  “But what if we had a way around that?” I prodded.

  “Bard Taliesin, I’m insulted that you imagine I didn’t think this through. Including the Quilverns, we have five powerful Houses of renown to pull upon, and not one is without enemies on the path.” Sephy’s voice was sharp. She steepled her fingers, leaning her chin on them, and watched my face carefully. “If this is a suggestion to merely disguise or abandon Arthur, I’ll be disappointed.”

  “You think too little of me—ow! What was that for?” I glared at Gaz, who smiled in answer, his foot pulling back, ready for another kick.

  “We are not here to listen to you two quarrel. You say you have a solution, so out with it.” Gaz’s voice resonated as he spoke—not louder, but as if the words hit harder. A reflection of his expanded power.

  “Fine, fine. You’re right. The path is full of conflicting allegiances, ancient feuds, and political posturing. No one House offers us the perfect solution. But Lance said something just before she advanced—she told me she wished we could bring all the Houses to bear on the problem. Together, that would be enough.” I could see confusion on the group’s faces.

  “But if we’re moving through the lands of a House—”

  “Not if we’re an Order!” Kay slammed her fist into the table and then threw her head back and laughed.

  Kay’s booming laugh startled the whole table. The smaller Knight had been looking gaunt. For her, who felt the plight of mortals most keenly, yesterday must’ve felt like a betrayal—the group she’d found, who spoke of protecting others from the Divine Cultivators, failing to live up to the ideals she imagined for us.

  “Well, steal my thunder, will you.” I smiled at the Knight. I got blank looks from both Maeve and Sephy, but Gaz was grinning widely, while Tristan’s neutral mask had shifted—his tilted eyebrows indicating deep thought.

  “We form an Order. An Order that is implicitly backed by all of our Houses, but not directly controlled by any single backer. All our Houses will want us to go on this quest, and the ideal of lessening the chaos in the area is perfect cover. It should be possible to gather all our Houses’ support, which means no one will want to play stupid political games. I imagine Albion might not be possible, but Gawain’s family should be enough to imply the crown’s support.” I explained for the benefit of those who still hadn’t grasped the idea.

  “But we can’t just form an Order like that, can we?” Tristan asked.

  “You can. You just need it to be recognised by two or more Houses, Orders, or Covens. If you can get it recognised by more, it gains more legitimacy. You don’t even need Knight Lords or a Mithril—they just tend to be the only groups who get recognised,” Gaz began to explain, his voice excited as he worked through the implications.

  The next hour was a chaotic mix of topics, with everyone having questions. I had answers for almost everything. There was a certain magic to our long history of knightly Orders. There were precedents and forgotten rules. Everyone contributed, with the exception of Sephy. She remained silent, only occasionally dropping a thorny question into the mix.

  One such question was where we would be based. It was a relatively important question and could affect our claims for neutrality. I had an answer. One of the most useful things I’d found in my research was the now mostly defunct concept of ‘Hermetic’ knightly Orders—those who made it a point not to have any single base and travelled about to best follow their guiding tenets.

  In the few areas where I struggled, both Gaz and Kay were there to support me. Far more familiar with Orders, they could answer all sorts of questions about how the Orders functioned. As we neared the end, Sephy was still looking reserved, even as a fervour gripped the rest of us. Much of our anger had bled off, but there was still a wall between us. Clearly, something was weighing on her mind.

  I knew Sephy well enough to understand that it wasn’t something petty. She’d spotted a challenge that undermined her belief in the idea. I gently nudged her with my foot when a lull came over the table. She jumped, and I did my best to give her a kind look. “What is it?”

  “It is a clever idea, and if it could work, I agree it would solve a great deal of our challenges. However, while Chivalric Law might say to treat us as our own entity, and the power behind us might threaten them into compliance, some will just see whomever we decide as our ‘Elder’ as the House in charge. Worse, they’ll feel able to use any underhanded trick in the book, believing this Order is our own devious way to get one over on them,” Sephy was calm and collected, watching me over steepled fingers.

  Everyone paused and settled back into their chairs, their faces falling as they agreed with her assessment. The warm mood icing over in scant few seconds. For a moment, I thought it was a joke—that they were pretending they didn’t understand the core idea I was suggesting. When their frowns deepened, I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The rest turned to look at me, while Sephy just quirked an eyebrow, waiting for my rebuttal.

  “My apologies. It’s just—you all think like Knights!”

  “I will kick you again if you don’t explain.” Gaz’s boot scraped back.

  “I thought it was obvious. Think about it!” I dodged the kick, laughing harder. It was so apparent to me, but they were different, their minds set on conquest and power. “No one’s in charge! You’re in this as equals. That’s the beauty of it. An Order of Knights who put aside even rank, such is their wish to help mitigate the chaos of the war! It saves us having anyone take offence at us calling ourselves Elder, and it lets us wield our collective clout.”

  “That'll work!” Kay said, grinning ear to ear. “It’s perfect. We’ll go out and help people as Knights should. They’ll see us riding up and know we’re here to help them, not wonder about our motives. You get to look for the Grail, and we can bring our combined strength to both issues.”

  “One improvement,” Sephy sat back, her red lips breaking into a real smile for the first time. “With such an unconventional approach, I think it best if we ensure there is a Bard to announce us.”

  Check the spoiler below for a library of cultivation terms and their Arthurian translations.