Legacy: Arthurian Saga (68 page)

Such an attack, now, Raff was
describing to me.

"Well, of course the Federates broke
the agreement. A new warband -- thirty ships it was -- landed in
Potters' Bay, well west of the boundary, and the Federates welcomed
them and came out in force to help them. They established a
beachhead near the river's mouth and started to push up towards
Vindocladia. I think if they had once got to Badon Hill -- what is
it?"

He broke off, staring at me. There was
amazement in his face, and a touch of fear.

"Nothing," I said. "I thought I heard
something outside, but it's only the wind."

He said slowly: "You looked for a
moment the way you did that night at Tintagel, when you said the
air was full of magic. Your eyes went strange, all black and
blurred, as if you were seeing something, out there beyond the
fire." He hesitated. "Was it prophecy?"

"No. I saw nothing. All I heard was a
sound like horses galloping. It was only the wild geese going over
in the wind. If it was prophecy, it will come again. Go on. You
were speaking of Badon Hill."

"Well, the Saxons can't have known
that King Uther was in Cornwall, with all the force he'd brought
down to fight Duke Gorlois. He gathered his army and called on the
Dumnonians to help him, and marched to drive the Saxons back." He
paused, compressing his lips, then finished briefly: "Cador went
with him."

"Did he indeed?" I was thoughtful.
"You didn't happen to hear what had passed between
them?"

"Only that Cador had been heard to say
that since he couldn't defend his part of Dumnonia alone he didn't
mind fighting alongside the Devil himself, as long as the Saxons
could be cleared from the coast."

"He sounds a sensible young
man."

Ralf, hot on his grievance, was not
listening. "You see, he didn't exactly make peace with Uther
--"

"Yes. One gathers that."

" -- but he did march with him! And I
could not! I went to him, and to my lady, and begged to go, but he
wouldn't take me!"

"Well," I said, reasonably, "how could
he?"

That stopped him. He stared at me,
ready to be angry again.

"What do you mean? If you think me a
traitor --"

"You're the same age as Cador, aren't
you? Then try to show as much common sense. Think. If Cador was to
go into battle beside the King, then the King, for your sake, could
hardly take you. Uther may surfer a few pangs of conscience when he
lays eyes on you, but Cador must see you as one of the causes of
his father's death. Do you think he would bear you near him,
however much he may need the King and his legions? Now do you see
why you were left at home, and then sent north to me?"

He was silent. I said, gently: "What's
done is done, Ralf. Only a child expects life to be just; it's a
man's part to stand by the consequence of his deeds. As we both
shall, believe me. So put all this behind you, and take what the
gods send. Your life is not over because you have had to leave the
court, or even because you have had to leave Cornwall."

There was a longer silence. Then he
picked up his empty bowl and mine and got to his feet. "Yes, I see.
Well, since for the moment I can't do much else, I'll stay and
serve you. But not because I'm afraid of the King, or because my
grandmother wants to get me out of Duke Cador's way. It's because I
choose. And indeed" -- he swallowed -- "I reckon I owe it to you."
His tone was neither grateful nor conciliatory. He stood there like
a soldier, stiffly, the bowls clutched to his ribs.

"Then start paying your debt and wash
the supper dishes," I said equably, and picked up a
book.

He hung on his heel a moment, but I
neither spoke nor looked up. He went then, without another word, to
draw water from the spring outside.

5

Bruises on the young heal quickly, and
Ralf was soon active again, and insistent that he no longer needed
doctoring. The wound on his hip, however, gave some trouble, and
left him limping for a week or two.

In "choosing" to stay with me, he had
made the best of a bad job, since for the time being he was tied to
the cave by his injury and by the loss of his horse, but he served
me well, mastering what resentment he might yet feel towards me and
his new position. He was silent still, but this suited me, and I
went quietly about my affairs, while Ralf gradually fell into my
ways, and we got along tolerably well together. Whatever he thought
of my quarters in the cave, and the menial tasks which between us
we had to do, he made it clear that he was a page serving a prince.
Somehow, through the days that followed, I found myself relieved,
bit by bit, of burdensome work which I had begun to take for
granted; I had leisure again to study, to replenish my store of
medicines, even to make music. It was strange at first, and then in
some way comforting, to lie wakeful in the night and hear the boy's
untroubled breathing from the other side of the cave. After a
while, I found I was sleeping better; as the nightmares receded,
strength and calmness came back; and if power still withheld
itself, I no longer despaired of its return.

As for Ralf, though I could see that
he still fretted against his exile -- to which, of course, he could
see no clear end -- he was never less than courteous, and as time
went on seemed to accept his banishment with a better grace, and
either lost or hid his unhappiness in a kind of
contentment.

So the weeks went by, and the valley
fields yellowed towards harvest, and the message came at last from
Tintagel. One evening in August, towards dusk, a messenger came
spurring up the valley. Ralf was not with me. I had sent him that
afternoon across the hill to the hut where the shepherd, Abba,
lived all summer. I had been treating Abba's son Ban, who was
simple, for a poisoned foot; this was almost healed, but still
needed salves. I went out to meet the messenger. He had dismounted
below the cliff, and now clambered up to the flat alp in front of
the cave. He was a young man, spruce and lively, and his horse was
fresh. I guessed from this that his message was not urgent; he had
taken his time, and come at his ease. I saw him take in my ragged
robe and threadbare mantle in one swift, summing glance, but he
doffed his cap and went on one knee. I wondered if the salute was
for the enchanter, or for the King's son.

"My lord Merlin."

"You are welcome," I said. "From
Tintagel?"

"Yes, sir. From the Queen." A quick
upward glance. "I came privily, without the King's
knowledge."

"So I had imagined, or you would have
borne her badge. Get up, man. The grass is damp. Have you had
supper?"

He looked surprised. It was not thus,
I reckoned, that most princes received their messengers. "Why, no,
sir, but I bespoke it at the inn."

"Then I won't keep you from it. I've
no doubt it will be better than you'd get here. Well then, your
business? You've brought a letter from the Queen?"

"No letter, sir, just the message that
the Queen desires to see you."

"Now?" I asked sharply. "Is there
anything wrong with her, or with the child she bears?"

"Nothing. The doctors and the women
say that all is well. But" -- he dropped his eyes -- "it seems she
has that on her mind which makes her want to talk with you. As soon
as possible, she said."

"I see." Then, with my voice as
carefully neutral as his: "Where is the King?"

"The King plans to leave Tintagel in
the second week of September."

"Ah. So any time after that it will be
'possible' for me to see the Queen."

This was rather more frank than he
cared for. He flashed me a glance, then looked at the ground again.
"The Queen will be pleased to receive you then. She has bidden me
make arrangements for you. You will understand that it will not do
for you to be received openly in the castle of Tintagel." Then, in
a burst of candor: "You must know, my lord, there is no man's hand
in Cornwall but will be against you. It would be better if you came
disguised."

"As for that," I said, fingering my
beard, "you will see that I'm half disguised already. Don't worry,
man, I understand; I'll be discreet. But you'll have to tell me
more. She gave no reason for this summons?"

"None, my lord."

"And you heard nothing -- no gossip
from among the women, things like that?"

He shook his head, then, at the look
in my face, added quickly: "My lord, she was urgent. She did not
say so, but it must concern the child, what else?"

"Then I will come." I thought he
looked shocked. As he lowered his eyes, I said, sharply: "Well,
what did you expect? I am not the Queen's man. No, nor the King's
either, so there's no need to look scared."

"Whose, then?"

"My own, and God's. But you can go
back to the Queen and tell her I will come. What arrangements have
you made for me?"

He hurried, relieved, on to his own
ground. "There is a small inn at a ford of the river Camel, in the
valley about five miles from Tintagel. It is kept by a man called
Caw. He is a Cornishman, but his wife Maeve was one of the Queen's
women, and he will keep his counsel. You can stay there without
fear; they will expect you. You may send messages to Tintagel, if
you will, by one of Maeve's sons -- it would not be wise to go near
the castle until the Queen sends for you. Now for the journey. The
weather should still be fine in mid-September, and the seas are
usually calm enough, so --"

"If you are about to advise me that it
is easier to go by sea, you're wasting your breath," I said. "Has
no one ever told you that enchanters can't cross water? At least,
not with any comfort. I should be seasick did I so much as cross
the Severn River in the ferry. No, I go by road."

"But the main road takes you past the
barracks at Caerleon. You might be recognized. And then the bridge
at Glevum is guarded by King's troops."

"Very well. I'll take the river
crossing, but make it a short one." I knew that he was right. To go
by the main road through Caerleon and then by the Glevum Bridge
would, even without the prospect of discovery by Uther's troops,
put several days on my journey. "I'll avoid the military road.
There's a good track along the coast through Nidum; I'll go that
way, if you can bespeak me a boat at the mouth of the Ely River
?"

"Very well, my lord." And so it was
arranged. I would cross from the Ely to the mouth of the Uxella in
the country of the Dumnonii, and from there I would find my way
south-west by the tracks, avoiding the roads where I might fall in
with Uther's troops or Cador's men.

"Do you know the way?" he asked me.
"For the last part, of course, Ralf can guide you."

"Ralf will not be with me. But I can
find it. I've been through that country before, and I have a tongue
in my head."

"I can arrange for horses
--"

"Better not," I said. "We agreed, did
we not, that I would be better disguised? I'll use a disguise that
has served me before. I'll be a traveling eye doctor, and a humble
fellow like that doesn't expect to post with fresh horses all the
way. Have no fear, I shall be safe, and, when the Queen wants me, I
shall be there."

He was satisfied, and stayed for a
while longer answering my questions and giving me what news there
was. The King's brief punitive expedition against the coastal
raiders had been successful, and the newcomers had been pushed back
behind the agreed boundaries of the Federated West Saxons. For the
moment things were quiet in the south. From the north had come
rumors of tougher fighting where Anglian raiders, from Germany, had
crossed the coast near the Alaunus River in the country of the
Votadini. This is the country that we of Dyfed call Manau Guotodin,
and it is from here that the great King Cunedda came, invited a
century ago by the Emperor Maximus, to drive the Irish from
Northern Wales and settle there as allies to the Imperial Eagles.
These were, I suppose, the first of the Federates; they drove the
Irish out, and afterwards remained in Northern Wales, which they
called Gwynedd. A descendant of Cunedda held it still; Maelgon, a
stark king and a good warrior, as a man would have to be to keep
that country in the wake of the great Magnus Maximus.

Another descendant of Cunedda still
held the Votadini country: a young king, Lot, as fierce and as good
a fighter as Maelgon; his fortress lay near the coast south of Caer
Eidyn, in the center of his kingdom of Lothian. It was he who had
faced and beaten off the latest attack of the Angles. He had been
given his command by Ambrosius, in the hope that with him the kings
of the north -- Gwalawg of Elmet, Urien of Gore, the chiefs of
Strathclyde, King Coel of Rheged -- would form a strong wall in the
north and east. But Lot, it was said, was ambitious and
quarrelsome; and Strathclyde had sired nine sons already and (while
they fought like young bull seals each for his square of territory)
was cheerfully siring more. Urien of Gore had married Lot's sister
and would stand firm, but was, it was said, too close in Lot's
shadow. The strongest of them was still (as in my father's time)
Coel of Rheged, who held with a light hand all the smaller chiefs
and earls of his kingdom, and brought them together faithfully
against the smallest threat to the sovereignty of the High
Kingdom.