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Lancelot was very confused about where he was being led. Tristan had been pretty insistent that Lancelot join him for a walk. “I have training starting soon.”
“Not today you don’t,” he replied breezily. “I sorted it out.”
“What do you mean?”
Tristan just reached back and grabbed his wrist, pulling him along faster. “I spoke with Arthur and you don’t have training today. You’re coming with me.”
“Do I have a choice? Where are we going?” Lancelot felt like every answer only opened up more questions. “Are we headed to the stables?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, it’s only a short ride. Leon’s a good friend.”
Lancelot trusted Tristan. Of course he did. It was why he saddled up his horse and didn’t try to run back to the castle where things made sense. And Tristan didn’t pull pranks, well, not the type that would lead to anyone other than himself and Bors getting in trouble, so he believed him when he said he spoke with Arthur already and it wouldn’t be a problem that he was missing training. But still, “What does Leon have to do with this?”
“We’re going to the York estate. Come along.”
It took Lancelot a good five minutes to remember that Leon’s family name was York. He so rarely used it and Lancelot was never one to care about who was associated with what family. Especially since there were now more knights without a house to their name and even more on the way.
He tried to ask Tristan more about what they were going to do, but the other knight remained frustratingly tight lipped. Rather like Merlin when trying to avoid giving away something he knew but couldn’t say. Of course, no one spoke as slippery as Merlin, but Lancelot knew enough to give up after only five minutes. Instead they talked about what Merlin had learned in his report back from his month “travelling” abroad. Lancelot heard a lot first-hand from Merlin, but Tristan knew the politics better than him. Even though Lancelot grew up in Corvon, he’d never stepped foot within the castle and Tristan has spent a month there when he was younger.
It was just approaching lunch time when they rode up to the York estate. This was far grander than the manor house in the Upper Town and it spoke of the generational power of Leon’s family. Lancelot had never been here before.
Entering in, he was impressed that the grandeur rivaled Camelot. In some ways, it surpassed it. There was far more artwork displayed and the windows let in much more light. It wasn’t fortified the way the citadel was.
He was so taken in by all the beauty around him that his hand instinctively flew to his hip when the doors of the dining hall opened and a loud shout of “Surprise!” resounded from within.
And quite a surprise it was. Leon and his step-brother Baddon were there. Karsi, a promising squire whom Merlin had taken under his wing, was also there. He also recognised Tristan’s siblings: Guimar, Sir Merrick, Lady Cariad, and an older person standing with them who had to be the eldest brother judging by the family resemblance. There were a few other people he didn’t recognise as well, some women and younger men who he was pretty sure weren’t knights unless they were stationed outside of the city.
“What is going on?” Lancelot asked.
“It’s your adoption day,” Tristan explained. “We thought a surprise party was in order.”
Sir Merrick spoke up. “Five years ago today, we had a family meeting--those of us in the city at the time--and decided you’d proved yourself so we would officially adopt you into our family.”
Now Lancelot got it. Five years ago Merlin had forged a heraldic crest for him. And he knew that Tristan had said they adopted him, but he hadn’t thought much of it. “You’re all ridiculous.”
“So sorry you’re related, but you can’t get out of it now,” Cariad said with a big grin. “Now come on and find out what a proper Sefan party is like.”