"Aye, Luke. I believe you. So be it."
Before the following day had run its course, my acceptance of Lucanus's opinion was challenged directly. I was relaxing at the time, sprawled out in company with Lucanus, Donuil and Derek in the quiet of the refurbished steam room after the hustle and bustle of the long, holiday afternoon of athletic events and speechmaking. Conversation had been desultory, all of us lulled and lethargic with the heat and humidity, but Donuil eventually sighed and stood up and left us, having volunteered to go and find out when the evening meal was to be served. Lucanus lay, apparently asleep, on the marble bench along the side of the room to my right, and I was lazily watching the steam eddies, enjoying doing nothing, when Derek suddenly leaned towards me and threw me into a complete panic.
"What's that mark there, on your chest? Some kind of scar?"
I closed my eyes quickly, drawing a great, deep breath, forcing myself not to stiffen and gathering myself to be able to look down casually. The Mark stood out plainly in here, against the natural darkness of my skin, its whiteness emphasized by the additional whiteness of the chest hairs that grew within its borders. Now I gazed down at it again, keenly aware of Luke's unmoving presence against the wall.
"No," I heard myself saying, almost musingly, "it's not a scar. It's some kind of skin ailment. Lucanus is fascinated by it, whatever it is ... he's forever poking and prodding at it. But it doesn't hurt, doesn't itch, and doesn't get any bigger. He expects it simply to disappear some day, like a wart."
"Hmm." Derek, I saw gratefully, was not really interested. His curiosity had been nothing more than momentary notice of an anomaly. "I had a wart, once, that used to bother me. Huge damned thing, it was, with hairs on it, and it was ugly. Can you believe that, on a body like mine? Women didn't like it, I can tell you. Had it for years, right here." He arched his back out from the wall and pointed a fingertip to the area beneath the swell of his great, hairy belly, just above his pubis. There was nothing to be seen there now. 'Then one day it was gone, just like that." He tried to snap his wet fingertips. "Don't know how quickly it went, or why, or even when ... I just looked, one day, and it wasn't there ... Hector really succeeds, doesn't he?"
The non sequitur left me floundering. "What are you talking about?" I asked him. "That doesn't make sense. How did you include Hector and warts in the same thought?"
Derek stretched mightily, yawning, and then stood up and began to sweep the streaming moisture from his great frame with the edge of one hand. He saw me glance idly at his genitals and grinned, hitching his belly up with both hands and bending forward to peer down.
"Don't see that too much, nowadays," he drawled. "But I don't use it as much as I used to, either. Must be growing old, but it doesn't seem as important as it used to be." He released his belly and reached behind him for a towel. "I said Hector succeeds, that's all. Nothing to do with warts. I was thinking about how you've managed to disguise yourself, and I'm not even talking about the beard and the hair-colouring."
I had grown a full beard and darkened my hair artificially shortly after moving up into the hills to live in Mediobogdum, and sufficient time had passed since then that I gave the transformation little thought. Derek did not even glance at my hair as he continued.
"You've effaced yourself completely. I really noticed it today, during the celebrations. Everyone here knows who you are, but they all call you Cay, and they all treat Hector as though he's the leader of your group. He even believes it himself, or he seems to. Damnation, I even think of you as Cay nowadays, and I know damn well who you are. Three or four months ago, when you first arrived, I would have sworn that was impossible ... unachievable. But you've done it. Merlyn of Camulod has disappeared."
"Good," I replied. "That's as it should be. And the longer he remains absent, the better it will be for the boy."
I had followed Shelagh's inspired suggestion long since, and arranged my own disappearance, making sure that everyone in Ravenglass had seen Arthur and me sail away with Connor. What no one knew but us, however, was that Connor had landed us again, no more than a few miles farther along the coast, safely out of sight of Ravenglass and its people. We had then returned here and become the childless Master Cay and his young apprentice.
I had not moved from my original position facing him, and now I wiped the heavy perspiration from my face, blinking the sting of it from my eyes and thinking we had almost been in the steam room too long. When I opened my eyes again, Derek was still standing there, gazing down at me, his towel hanging from his hand, and Luke had shrugged himself up into a seated position, bent forward with one elbow on his knee while he wiped his face with the towel he had been using as a pillow.
"What?" I asked. "What's wrong? What are you staring at?"
"May I ask you a question?"
I glanced at Lucanus, surprised that Derek would even think to seek permission before blurting his question out. "Of course."
"Do you trust me? That's not the one, not the question, I mean."
I smiled up at him and then rose to my feet. "Let's get out of here, before we melt. Of course I trust you. How could you even need to ask that, after all this time?"
Lucanus stood aside to allow us to pass him, then followed us out into the dry, cool air of the pool-room suite. All three of us plunged quickly into the cold pool, which had the effect of ice on our overheated bodies, and climbed quickly out to towel ourselves down briskly until our skins were glowing with cleanliness and health. By common consent, none of us spoke until all three were dry, and then we made our way to the changing rooms, where we began to dress. Lucanus was the first to speak," uttering his first words since entering the bathhouse, more than an hour earlier.
"I can't believe we're the only ones here."
Derek glanced at him beneath raised brows. "Believe it, they're all stuffing themselves. We'll be lucky if there's anything left for us to eat by the time we get out there." He began moving towards the door.
I felt at peace, not the slightest pang of hunger gnawing at me, and I ignored their efforts to leave, choosing instead to speak with Derek when there were no other ears about to hear me. "You were going to ask me a question, moments ago. But why did you ask me if I trusted you?"
Derek stopped, with his hand on the door, and then turned about and came back, sitting down squarely on the seat across from me. "Because your answer would decide the form of my next question. I knew you trusted me with this secret ... the secret of your whereabouts and your identity—because you know you're safe there. My existence, and my people's, depends on my good faith in that. But I meant, do you trust me beyond that?"
I could see from his face that he was serious, that he expected me to respond, and that he was watching me closely enough to discern the truth were I to attempt to dissemble in any way. I stared back at him, narrowing my eyes and nibbling at the inside of my lower lip. He waited, staring at me as I sought the words I would use. Finally they came to me.
"Yes, Derek, I trust you, far beyond that. I always have, though for no logical reason. I simply have, and that's all there is to it That's why we came to Ravenglass in the first place. I came in answer to a dream that told me I might trust you. I'll admit openly to you now that there have been times I have wondered at myself, and debated the wisdom and the folly of my own feelings, but I chose to remain here, for all that, with my people, and in trust, and have never regretted it. We have all found you to be a true and loyal friend, these past few months. Luke, here, agrees with me. We spoke of this only a few nights ago ... What's the matter? Did I say something to displease you?"