17
Tristan
I stared at the doors to the king’s audience chamber, my hands curled to fists.
“You did well, commander,” Gaul’s voice snaked around me. “Now run along, back to your post.”
The king’s sentinel stood behind me with two large Berserkers. I recognized them, but they were not my own. The madness had taken their minds long ago, but they obeyed Gaul.
I wondered how many in my own ranks were like these dumb servants, and how long it would take to fight them.
“Did you hear me, commander? You’re dismissed.”
I stared at him for a moment. I could not explain that I had to wait to see if the woman I loved would return. But I would not be driven from my post like a dog.
“Your duty to the king is over,” he said, and it was. I served the king no longer.
I served Yseult.
“Commander?”
