Rui tried not to dwell on it, though she still felt the bitter pang of disappointment.
Ere and Sorin sandwiched her on either side as they escorted her, leading their horses, to the first event.
“Well, now we know who wears the real pants around here,” Ere said.
“The king is not himself,” Sorin uttered, breaking his usual silence.
“Agreed,” Ere noted. “The question is why. He seemed…bespelled. Like he’s trapped inside his own body. I know a zombie when I see one.”
Grimly he added, “Trust me on this.”
“Focus,” Rui reminded them. “We’re here to obtain the Jewel of Dreams, not to involve ourselves in intrigue.”
“But this istheKing Arthur,” Ere protested. “He’s—”
“Irrelevant,” she insisted.
Ere frowned, clearly disagreeing, but he didn’t comment further.
“Do you know who the woman is on the other side of Arthur?” she asked.
“If I am not mistaken, that was Morgan Le Fay,” Ere responded, “reputed sorceress and original owner of the Dragon’s Eye we, or ratheryou, will be fighting for.”
“What do you suppose her words mean?”
Ere’s frown deepened, but it was Sorin who spoke:
“It is a prophesy. The hand of Fate. I have lived it. Now, so shall we all.”