Merlin

'Lot.' His brow creased unhappily. 'He said he would speak with you.'

Well, there was nothing for it but to meet him. I entered the house and found it crowded with north-country strangers. Lot stood at Gradlon's hearth, back to the door, one foot on a firedog, his hands wrapped in the iron chain suspended there.

At my entry, the men fell silent. Lot turned. His eyes were the colour of snow shadow – grey-blue and cold as winter ice. I stood in the doorway and he regarded me casually, confidently.

For the space of three heartbeats I paused, then stepped into a room bristling with hidden knives and unseen spears.

EIGHTEEN

'Well, Merlin Ambrosius – Myrddin Emrys,' Lot said, finally. 'I am honoured.'

'Lord Lot, I did not expect you.'

'No, I suppose not. It seems no one expected me in Londinium.' His smile was sudden and sly. 'But I much prefer it that way.'

Uneasy silence reclaimed the room. I broke it at last, saying, 'Will you drink with me? Gradlon's wine is excellent.'

'I do not drink wine,' he said coolly. 'That is a luxury we do not allow ourselves in Orcady. And I have never developed the taste for southern vices.'

'Mead?' I offered. 'I am certain our host will oblige.'

'Beer,' he said, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness. 'As you see, I am a man of simple pleasures.'

The mocking emphasis he gave the words suggested a wildly voracious appetite and brought to my mind images of unspeakable perversion. Yet he smiled as if it were a point of honour with him. He was his mother's son, and no doubt. I resisted the impulse to flee the room. The only reason I suffered him at all was to discover why he had come.

I motioned to Pelleas, standing protectively beside me, to bring the beer. Lot gestured to one of his men, who silently followed Pelleas from the room.

I saw no reason to prolong the pointless. 'Why have you come?' I asked. The bluntness of my question amused him.

'And the beer not even in the cups,' he chided good-naturedly. 'Why, cousin, since you ask, I will tell you. There is only one reason to venture so far from the balmy borders of my sun-favoured realm. Surely you can guess.'

'The others are here to win the High Kingship, but I cannot think you hope to gain that for yourself.'

'Do you think me unworthy?'

'I think you unknown."

'Your tact is celebrated.' Lot tossed back his head and laughed. Pelleas, shadow looming, entered with the cups. He offered the guest cup to Lot, who took it and splashed a few drops over the rim for the god of the hearth. He drank deeply and with zeal.

Then, handing the cup to the first of his men, he wiped his mouth with his fingertips and fixed me with a fierce gaze. 'My mother warned me you would be difficult. I wondered if you had lost your will to cross blades.'

'You have not answered my question, Lot.'

He shrugged. 'All my life I have heard of Londinium. So, fancying a sea-voyage, I said to my chieftains, "Let us go and see this wonder for ourselves. If we like it, perhaps we will stay." Imagine our surprise when we discovered a king choosing taking place.'

His whole demeanour was mockery. But I detected a thread of truth in his answer: he did not know about the king choosing when he set out from Orcady. He had come for an altogether different reason and had learned of the council somewhere along the way – perhaps, as he said, only upon his arrival. Still, I reflected, he had not answered the question I asked.

I sipped from my cup and then passed it on. 'Now that you are here, what will you do?'

'That, unless I am far wrong, will very much depend upon how I am treated.'

'I find that I am generally treated as well as I treat others.'

'Oh, but it is not so simple for some of us as that, dear cousin. Would that it were.' He sniffed unhappily. 'Ah, but you would know little of the adversity lesser mortals must endure.'

Was he trying to provoke me? I thought it likely, though could perceive no reason for it. 'Is your life so burdensome to you?' I asked, not expecting any particular reaction. But, as if I had fingered a very raw and painful wound, Lot winced. His eyes narrowed and his smile grew tight.

'Burdensome is not the word I would choose,' he replied stiffly. 'Where is that cup?' He reached for it and took it from the hand of one of his men, tossing back the remaining draught. 'Empty so soon? Then we must leave,' he said, and walked to the door.

Reaching the doorway, he paused, saying, 'You know, Myrddin, I had hoped our first meeting would be different.' He turned abruptly and started away.

I can, when I choose to, make my command almost irresistible. I made it so now. 'Do not leave!" I called after him. Lot halted. He stood for a moment and then turned round slowly, as if expecting a swordpoint against his throat.

The uncertainty of that gesture argued eloquently for him. He was an untried boy playing bravely at being a king, and I was moved with compassion for him. 'We should not part like this,' I told him.

His grey-blue eyes searched mine for any hint of deception – I think he was a master of discerning it – but found none in me. 'How would you have us part?' His tone was wary, testing.

'As friends.'

'I have no friends in this place.' It was an unthinking response; nevertheless, I know he believed it.

'You can hold to that,' I replied, 'or accept my friendship and prove yourself wrong.'

'I am not often proved wrong, Emrys. Farewell.' His men followed him and in a moment I heard the clatter of hooves in the street and they were gone.

Pelleas closed the door, and then turned to me. 'He is a dangerous man, my lord Myrddin. The more so because he is confused.'

I knew Pelleas to possess no mean ability in weighing out the character of a man. 'Confused, there is no doubt. But I do not think he intends me harm. I am not certain he knows what he intends.'

My companion shook his head slowly. 'The man who does not know his own heart is a man to be feared. Have nothing to do with him, my lord.' Then he spoke my own misgivings. 'Who can say how Morgian has twisted the youth?'

If my meeting with Lot was disconcerting, my dinner with Ygerna was all delight. She had dressed in her finest clothes, and, in the glimmering, golden sheen of light from a hundred candles – light that Ygerna herself seemed to radiate – she appeared more lovely than I had ever seen her.

She kissed me as I entered the room where a table had been set up, and took my hands and led me to a chair. 'Myrddin, I was afraid you would not come tonight and I would be disappointed.'

'How so, my lady? Had you eaten as many suppers cold by the side of the lonely road as I have, you would never let pass an opportunity to dine in comfort. And were you a man, you would never disappoint a lady as beautiful as I see before me, my queen.'

She blushed with the innocent pride of a maid. 'Dear Myrddin,' she murmured, then stopped suddenly. 'You have not brought the sword?' Ygerna looked at my hands as if expecting to see it there.

'I have not forgotten,' I replied. 'Pelleas will bring it later. I thought it best not to be seen carrying it with me. Someone might notice.'

'A wise thought.' Sitting me in my chair, she turned to the table and poured wine into two silver cups. She knelt beside -i my chair and offered one to me; it was the formal gesture of ' a servant to a lord. I made a movement of protest, but she held out the cup, saying, 'Allow me to serve you tonight. Please, it is small enough repayment for the kindness in all you have done for me.'

I shook my head gently. 'All I have done? My lady, you honour me too highly. I have done nothing to warrant such affection.'

'Indeed? Then I will tell you, shall I? When everyone else thought me a foolish girl, you treated me as a woman and the equal of any man. You have ever been my true friend, Myrddin. And true friendship, for a woman, is difficult to find in this world.' She pressed the cup into my hand with her cool fingers. 'Let us drink together in friendship.'