Arthur was gazing at me now in consternation, and I realized he had not meant to be as cruel as I had taken him to be. I was instantly contrite, although I did not allow my face to show that. Instead, I moderated my tone to one much softer.
"Llewellyn One-Eye is a fine man, Arthur, and I have quickly become proud to call him friend, as will you, once you know him. We'll discuss this further, tomorrow, but for the moment I will tell you this. You are the son of Uther Pendragon, the rightful king of all southern Cambria and the lower Pendragon lands against which we now live, and yet you know nothing of your folk, nor they of you. Llewellyn will rectify that. He is an ironsmith and a great warrior, a bowman respected among his own, who, as you know, are the greatest bowmen in Britain, and probably beyond.
"I have decided that you will live with him for one full year, to learn his ways and the ways of Pendragon. I can be no help to you in that. Being seen with me, you would be recognized for who you are, and before you are ready to take your place, that recognition could mean your death. Llewellyn knows the truth of it, and so does Huw Strongarm, and Huw Strongarm is now War Chief of Pendragon and sworn to serve you and your house. Between the two of them, these men will introduce you to their folk, their ways and customs, and their life. A better understanding of your own can only be of service to you." I could see that he still looked less than comfortable with my tidings, so I gave him the chance to speak. "One year, that's all, I promise you. What say you?"
He looked away from me, his gaze sliding slowly from my face to some distant point beyond my shoulder while he appeared to gnaw at the inside of his cheek. Then he drew a quick, deep breath and straightened up. "You are convinced this is something I should do." It was a statement, not a question.
"I am, completely. As for the matter of your riding out with me, I did not suspect you set any great store upon such a thing, so if I have disappointed you then I regret that. It is remediable. You'll go to Cambria for one short year. And despite the fact that a year seems endless at your age, it is a short time, and each new one grows shorter as you grow older. So, one year. After that, you'll return to Camulod, then we'll ride out together, if you wish. By that time, you'll be of age and will have your own command. Ambrose tells me you have surpassed all his expectations to this point, and that pleases me more than I can say. Now what I want you to do is arrange matters so that Llewellyn One-Eye will say the same of you, when next I see him." Behind his back, I saw Morag leaving with her mother and the other ladies, hanging back to glance our way in the hope of catching Arthur's eye.
I looked back at Arthur. 'Tomorrow, I will introduce you to my friend Llewellyn, and I promise you, you will enjoy him, the real man beneath the mask. Now I believe there's a young woman trying to attract your attention." He turned to see what I had seen, and in mere moments he was gone, striding towards his love. I turned around, finally, to Tressa, who was sitting, smiling up at me.
"I thought you were going to be too hard on him, at first. He was upset, but mainly about losing the opportunity to be with you."
"I know. My first reaction was unjust and hasty, but thank God I saw my error in time to avoid any grievous damage."
I glanced over her head to Connor, whose sleepy eyes were already half closed. "Well, Admiral, are we feeding you well enough?"
He grinned, slowly. "Aye, passing well, but I'd gladly trade some of your endless beef for a bowl of good oat porridge."
"Ach!" I shuddered. "Are you growing oats again, then, up in your heavenly isles?"
His smile grew broader, though his eyes remained half closed. "We will always grow oats. They sustain us and give us our enormous strength."
"You should have told me! We, too, grow them, but we feed them to our horses, which, I suppose, is why they have their enormous strength. Our stable storehouses are filled with them. That reminds me, I have to procure another horse. Did you know I lost Germanicus?"
Connor jerked up straight. "Your big black horse? No, I didn't know that. How, and when?"
I told him briefly, and then laid my hand on Tressa's shoulder. "Connor, my friend and companion-in-arms, might I induce you to retire? I have another companion here, as you have noticed, so if you will permit us to withdraw and leave you here alone, you will earn the gratitude of both of us."
Connor grinned and stretched and then yawned hugely, ignoring Tressa's little cry of outrage at my lack of discretion. He pulled himself to his feet and stood there wavering, gaining his balance. "Too much mead," he said. "I hope the same cannot be said of you, comrade-in-arms. I'll bid you a good night, then, since you clearly have no wish for me to stay with you. Sleep well, if you have time."
He turned majestically, pivoting on his wooden limb, and aimed himself towards the double doors at the end of the hall, negotiating the step down from the dais with ease before clumping unsteadily away. As he approached the doorway, I saw a trooper entering, carrying my letter from Germanus. Apart from Tress and me, there were no more than half a score of people left now in the hall, and I needed to speak with none of diem. The trooper snapped to attention before me with a smart salute and handed me my letter. I thanked him and pushed the scroll inside my tunic, then extended .my hand to Tressa, who took it, swinging lithely to her feet.
"What now? Must you read that? Or have you finished with talking, so that there's time for me, at last?"
"Something akin to that." I laid one hand gently on the back of her neck and we walked together to the vestibule where we had hung our cloaks on entering. Rufio had ordered a light, two wheeled, canopied wagon to be waiting at the doors for us. The driver, another trooper, helped us to climb up into it, then covered us with warm, fleecy coverings. Tressa snuggled against me and I reached for her thighs again, this time allowing my hands to explore as they would.
I nodded to the guards who saluted us at the gates and then turned back to Tress, and mere moments later, it seemed, we entered the main portico of the Villa Britannicus. There we found Plato, the majordomo, waiting to welcome us and show us to our sleeping quarters on the second floor. The large room he led us to was brightly lit with fine, wax candles, some of them flickering in the gentle breeze that stirred the delicate hangings by the window, where the louvered shutters had been left slightly open.
I remember closing the door behind Plato as he left, and then I remember turning to look at Tress, drinking in the beauty of her, subdued yet enhanced as it was by the light from the flickering candles. I remember crossing to her and taking her in my arms, feeling the full richness of her body and the sweetness of her mouth as we kissed each other thoroughly for the first in time in long, lingering months. I remember the soaring urgency that took possession of me then, but I have no recollection of the time that passed between that moment and the moment when we both stood naked, skin against skin, by the bed. I remember the weight of her in my arms as she fell backwards beneath me, pulling me down to her. It seemed to me she looked harder, or firmer—different, somehow, but I took little note of that at the time, distracted by greater urgencies.
I have no concrete memories of what transpired between us then, but something deep within my soul recalls the delight of feeling her move beneath me, her thighs parting to welcome me, making room for me to enter her; I have a blinding, fleeting memory of outrush, from my lips and loins, as she drew the very life from me and sent me crashing into ecstasy, and after that I recall nothing.