Forbidden Warrior (Midsummer Knights)

He visited every whorehouse, asked every proprietor and passerby he could induce to talk, inquiring if they knew where he could find a tow-headed, extremely cocky urchin named Odin.

To the good, everyone seemed to know him. To the bad, a few people wanted him carted off to the stocks for robbing them blind.

Máel commiserated with their tales of Odin-woe, and eventually tracked the boy down to a broken-down hovel of a residence, an apartment squatting in the most dismal alleyway at the darkest edge of town.

When he finally located the particular hovel Odin inhabited, the boy seemed reluctant to assist him.

“Told you you’d need help,” he muttered, scuffing his boot in the dirt.

“Aye, you were right,” Máel said. “I was wrong. How much will it cost?”

Odin flicked him a glance. “What do you need?”

“I need to get into a joust.”

“The jousts are over.”

“One remains. Tomorrow morning, at dawn.”

Odin stared at the ground, then began to grin. It stretched across his pinched little face, which he lifted to Máel. “I knew you had a lady love!”

Máel blew out a breath. “Again, you were right. You have remarkable foresight.”

“The lady in your tent?”

“Aye, the lady in my tent.”

Odin whistled. “She was right noble,” he said enthusiastically.

“Most. But we haven’t any time to waste, for I need—”

“A lance?” Odin guessed.

Máel frowned. “Can I not say the thing I require before you do?”

Odin wasn’t listening; he was shaking his head. “A lance costs dear, sir.”

Máel shook his head in return. “What you consider ‘dear,’ others consider highway robbery. In fact, a few of those people are looking for you right now. You’re not very popular.”

“Neither are you,” retorted Odin, but he leaned to the side to glance around Máel’s shoulder, perhaps to see if any of the unhappy souls were coming right now.

“In any event,” Máel continued, “I haven’t any coin. I already gave it all to you.”

A look of concern crossed the boy’s face. “You did not…did you?”

“But I can give you something better.”

He scowled. “What?”

Máel hesitated, then reminded himself Cassia was worth it. “Would you want to be my squire?”

Odin’s eyes widened, then narrowed again. “You’re not a knight.”

“And you’re not free. But we make of ourselves what we can, aye?”

The smile Odin had given earlier had been triumphant; the smile he gave now was quieter, but it lighted his eye and made him lift his chin.

He gave a decided nod. “Deal.” He started walking off. “Come with me, sir.”