“So, you’re going to the castle after all?” Tristan said, keeping up with his long-legged strides.
“She leaves me no choice,” Wolfe gritted out.
“Who is this woman who sends you missives?”
This time, Wolfe didn’t hesitate to tell the boy.
“Guinevere.”
Tristan whistled.
“She’s as frightening as she is beautiful.”
“You see only a mirage,” Wolfe said. “She is ugly at the core no matter her outer appearance. But her machinations are not my problem. I only want one thing from her.”
“The Dragon’s Eye,” Tristan concluded. “But why?”
“It will lead me to the monster I most desire to end. The one who caused my mother’s death.”
Tristan stumbled a bit at that revelation, then jogged to keep up.
“You never mentioned any of this before.”
“Why would I.”
“We’re friends,” the boy argued.
Wolfe slowed slightly to regard him.
“Aye,” he acknowledged for the first time in the many years of their acquaintance. “I suppose that is true.”
Tristan punched him none too gently on the shoulder.
“For fuck sure ’tis true,” he said hotly, scowling at Wolfe.
Wolfe’s lips twitched with the urge to smile.
“It is perilous for the health to be associated with me, boy,” he felt obligated to remind the young warrior.
“But look at everything I gain in return,” Tristan quipped. “Adventure, comradery, getting to see your ugly, scarred, scruffy mug all the long days.”
More soberly he said, “Just tell me what’s happening. I can help.”
Wolfe gave him a long, hard look, saw what he needed to see, and nodded his decision.
“The queen wants the Eye.”
“I got that bit.”
“I won’t let her have it.”
“Well, if you win it, you have it, right? So how would she get it from you?”
“When I kill the Eye’s protector, I gain the Eye. If Guinevere kills me…”
“She gains the Eye. Got it,” Tristan caught on quickly.
“Her plan was to collude with me to get the Eye from me once I win it. But she and I both know I’ll not do her bidding. ’Tis why she planned to plant one of her own warriors in the final battle. To kill me and win the Eye for her.”