"Will the Red Knight be there?" I ask, trying to refocus my sad thoughts.
"Aye, he will."
"Good." Maybe he can tell me what the Shadow Knight won't about the history of this place. The Red Knight already gave me a few tips.
"You will not speak to him. He is the defiler of battle-witches."
"He didn't deflower me the first time we met, and I didn't find him that charming anyway," I reply. "I'll take my squire." Poor kid is about as useful as I am in battle.
"It is against custom for a battle-witch to address any but her Knight."
"We've established I'm not from around here."
The Shadow Knight falls silent. He seems to be trying to discourage rather than order me around, which makes me think I'm not quite yet crossing the line into -
"I will chop off your head if you speak to him."
- or maybe I did. For some reason, I don't care for this threat, less so than the others. If I need to talk to someone to find a way home, then I'm not about to let anyone get in the way.
Challenge accepted, I tell myself. "How far away is the Square Table?" I manage not to giggle, but it's hard.
"'Tis a day riding quickly."
"So how far with the army?"
"They will stay here. We go alone with a small guard."
I don't like the idea of sleeping on the ground again, which seems to be the way they do things. But maybe if we reach our destination before dark falls, it won't be quite as bad. Maybe they'll have running water and hot baths, a real kitchen with chocolate cake…
Now that is pure fantasy. There's nothing here that makes me think they have a clue what luxury is.
However, this might be the break I've been looking for. I can hunt down the Red Knight and then evaluate the other Knights to see which of them might be the Hero. Worst-case scenario, if the Shadow Knight is busy, I can slip away.
"This will be a good chance to meet with the Lord of the Wings about the messenger bird shortage," the Shadow Knight adds.
"Did you just say Lord of the Wings?" I ask, startled.
"Aye. He oversees the training and dispensary of . . . what ails you, witch?"
First the Square Table and now this. I break out into a fit of giggles most unbecoming of a full-grown woman. "Is . . . is his name . . . Frodo?" I gasp.
"Krodo. How do you know this?"
Omigod, LF, really? I swear the author is trying to kill me!