[Merry Gentry 04] - A Stroke of Midnight by Laurell K. Hamilton Page A

right?”
    â€œAbout the queen, no, but I am right about what we need to do to find our murderer. I am right about that, and I’m willing to tell the queen so.”
    He shuddered. “I would rather stay here and guard the hallway, if you do not mind.”
    â€œI don’t want anyone with me who’s more afraid of the queen than of doing what’s right.”
    â€œOh, hell, Merry, then none of us can come,” Rhys said.
    I looked at him.
    He shrugged. “All of us fear her.”
    â€œBut I will go with you,” Frost said.
    â€œAnd me,” Galen said.
    â€œDo you need to ask?” Doyle said.
    It was Adair who finally spoke for most of them. “I think this is foolishness, though honorable foolishness, but it does not matter. You are our ameraudur, and that is a title that I have not let pass my lips for many years.”
    Ameraudur meant a war leader who was chosen for love, not bloodline. Ameraudur meant that the man who called you this would give his own life before he saw yours fail. It was the word that the Welsh had used for Arthur, yes, that Arthur. It was the term that some of my father’s men had used for him.
    I didn’t know what to say because I hadn’t done enough to deserve the title. Not yet. “I haven’t earned such a title from you, Adair, or from anyone. Do not call me so.”
    â€œYou offered yourself in our place last night, Princess. You took the might of the queen herself upon your mortal body. Seeing you draw magic against her was one of the bravest things ever I saw, my oath on that.”
    I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed, or try to explain that it wasn’t brave. That I’d been afraid the whole time.
    â€œYou are our ameraudur, and we will follow you wherever you may lead. To whatever end. I will die before I let another harm you.”
    â€œYou can’t mean that,” Amatheon said.
    I agreed with Amatheon. “Do not give your oath to keep me from harm, Adair, please. If you must, give your oath to save my life, but not all harm.”
    But it was as if I wasn’t there for him, or for Amatheon in that moment. I was the object of the conversation but that was all.
    â€œShe saved us last night,” Adair said. “She saved us all. She risked her life to save ours. How can you stand there and not give her your oath?”
    â€œA man without honor has no oath to give,” Amatheon said.
    Adair put his mailed hand on the other’s shoulder. “Then come with us to the queen, regain your honor, rediscover your oath.”
    â€œShe took my courage with the rest. I am too afraid to go before her with such news.” A single tear glittered down his cheek.
    I looked at the despair in his eyes, and said the only thing I could think of. “I will try for guilt to allow this. Her guilt over never solving her own brother’s murder. But if guilt won’t work, then I will remind her that she owes me the life of her consort and her pet human.”
    â€œIt is not always wise to remind the queen she owes you a debt,” Doyle said.
    â€œNo, but I want her to say yes, Doyle. If she says no, then it’s no, and I need it to be yes.”
    He touched my face. “I see in your eyes a haunting. I see in your eyes your father’s death like a weight of injustice on your heart.”
    I closed my eyes and let my cheek rest against the warmth of his hand. His hand was worn from centuries of sword and knife practice. It made his hand seem more real, more solid, more able to protect. Some sidhe, those pure enough that they couldn’t get calluses, thought it a sign of impurity. Racist bastards.
    With Doyle touching me, I could let myself remember that awful day. It’s funny how your mind protects you. I saw the bloody sheet and the stretcher. I held my father’s hand, cold but not stiff, not yet. I had his blood on my hands from touching him, but it wasn’t him. It