Gawain chased the hart through the woodlands. The delicate slither of silver-white darted through the cavern of branches, drifting in and out of sight. Gawain's steps were swift but the hart's were swifter. The animal flitted forward, always another leap, another bound, ahead of Gawain.
Gawain's veins vibrated with the force of the sun. For days he had been chasing the hart, months, years. The earth's cycle rose and fell inside the hart's brown-black eyes. His breath smelled of crisp honey and the sharp brine of Orkney's shores. Gawain plunged after the perfect form as it bounded on and on into the forest. He never once paused for breath or slackened his pace and still, the hart was always ahead of him, leaping just out of reach.
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Gawain of Orkney has not been to Camelot since before his father led a rebellion against King Arthur. Now that the war is over Gawain is sent to attend Arthur's wedding.
The night of the wedding Arthur bids Gawain to hunt a white hart -- a beautiful deer of unearthly purity. Gawain accepts the quest but the dangers of the wilderness become hard to battle when he is bound by Arthur's new ideals. Gawain realizes he may not be so different from the knights of the old, violent ways of as he had imagined.
Gawain does not have long to decide which life he wants to chase. Not all the rebels put down their swords when his father did. The knights of the old ways are planning an assassination and even King Arthur may not survive his own idealistic trust.
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