‘Lev’s not a hero,’ he growled.
‘I fear you have taken ill from the icy water,’ Lancelot said, ignoring Stephen. ‘Pray put this around you, sire, before the ague takes you to your death.’ He extracted a long black cloak, glossy as a crow’s wing, from a leather bag hanging from the horse’s saddle, and folded it around Lev’s shoulders. ‘Yours was a brave deed, sire,’ he said. ‘I have known victory in tournaments and on the battlefield, but the river defeated me this day. I could not do what you were able to accomplish.’
‘But … but that’s not what —’
Meg nudged El, silencing her protest. ‘Lev saved the Lady Elaine’s life,’ she agreed, ‘but Lev is not a sir. He’s not a knight.’
‘Not?’ Lancelot’s expression mirrored his disbelief. ‘Then you must come with me to the court, sire … Lev. King A
