The Quest (The Sons of Camelot Book 2) by Kim Dragoner

that go with the blood of the desert horses from the lands south of the Aegean Sea,” Nimueh said confidently as she grasped the knuckles and patted the flanks of Guerrero’s legs.
    “You know much about horses and geography, Milady. That is quite impressive.”
    Nimueh stopped her assessment of the horse for a moment and looked Sir Jofrit in the eye. She positioned herself attractively and exaggerated the movements of her arms and upper body. In a few moments, she saw what she thought she had heard in his voice. She had seen that look before. Many years ago, a sorcerer by the name of Merlin had looked at her like that.
    Well, in the beginning, he had looked at her like that… then it had turned into an aggravating, incessant mooning that made her sick to her stomach and finally, it had become a look of complete shock and horror as she had used his own magic to imprison him inside a crystal alcove inside that very cave.
    It was a look of intrigue, admiration, desire. She had used it against Merlin to get what she wanted from him and she would do the same to Sir Jofrit of Leeds.
    “Dunmor! Is this any way to treat our distinguished guest? Why has he remained chained in my presence for so long?”
    The Pict man sprang forward to undo the rope and manacles that had kept Sir Jofrit secured to the horse and helped the man down from the saddle. As he stepped back to where his brothers were, Dunmor wasn’t quite sure what was going on between Jofrit and Nimueh but he was sure that he didn’t like one bit of it.
    “Come, Sir Jofrit,” Nimueh said. “Sit with me.”
    When she said that, Nimueh waved her hand over the empty spot to the right of her crystal chair and a matching one rose from the platform for her guest.
    “They were just about to serve some supper.”
     
    ***
     
    “We must capture that imp,” Merlin ordered as they were approaching the earthen mound that stretched for as far as the eye could see in either direction. There, a creature, the nature of which John had never seen before, scurried off the mound and then ran into a trench.
    “Thomas and I will ride ahead and try to cut him off; the rest of you stay behind him so he doesn’t double back!” John responded, putting the spurs to Ganador.
    “I’ll cast a spell so he doesn’t take flight!” Merlin called after him.
    In general, the imp behaved more like a game bird, running and dodging along the trench. It put Ganador and all of the other mounts to the test to run down the creature and close in around it. It screeched, hissed and wailed at them, beating its wings frantically, but unable to lift itself from the ground. As the circle closed in tighter, it finally stopped trying to escape, but circled warily; its wide eyes watching each of them in turn.
    “We mean you no harm, imp,” Merlin said. “These aren’t the kind of men who eat your kind.”
    “There are certainly none among you who smells of the kind who does,” the imp hissed, turning to watch Alpina closely.
    “We’ll not be dining on your flesh this day,” Merlin responded. “Although you look to be fattened up and would certainly be savory on the tongue.”
    “What do you want with me then, wizard?” His attention was upon Alpina, even as he spoke to Merlin.
    “No names, no news,” the imp retorted.
    “Yes, it is customary, but, as of yet, you haven’t introduced yourself. You’ve forgotten that protocol, no doubt?”
    “One’s dinner isn’t often introduced before having its head hacked off.”
    “You are to be no one’s dinner,” Merlin reassured. “Come on then, out with it, what is your name?”
    “I am called Tiki Tok,” the imp finally responded. “I am not the watchman of the dyke.”
    “To whom do you report?” Merlin asked. “To Gryme?”
    “Of course, everyone reports directly to Gryme,” Tiki Tok replied. “I report to Tim Tam. Now, do me the honor of introducing yourselves or I will be forced to speak freely.”
    “This is Sir John of Leeds,