Gwenhwyfar_ The White Spirit - Mercedes Lackey [116]
She had gotten just out of the reach of the firelight when she realized that she was not alone. And the figure that was keeping pace with her was not one that she welcomed.
“ ‘Fair cousin,’ is it?” said Medraut, in a tone that sounded perfectly pleasant if you didn’t know him and realize there was certainly some other motivation behind his question than the wish to be conversational. “Are there folk of Annwn in your bloodline, then?”
“Not that I know of,” she replied, throttling down her revulsion and replying with the same surface pleasantry. There it was again. And he was married to her sister; wouldn’t he know by now if there was fae blood in them? Or—maybe he wasn’t as strong in magic as he liked to believe. “I’m sure someone would have mentioned it before this if there were. I believe that the King of the Isle of Glass was merely acknowledging that technically I am the overlord to some of his people now. Of course, he could have had some other motive; it’s impossible to tell with the Folk.”
“Ah, yes. Your little bargain.” Medraut stalked alongside her, and with his longer legs, there was no way she could outdistance him without running. Damn him. He was the last person she wanted to talk to. You had to be at your cleverest to exchange more than a few words with him, if you didn’t want him to ferret more out of you than you wanted him to know. “That was cleverly done, by the way. I salute you. I had no idea you had enough power in you to call up the Folk.”
“I don’t.” Actually, she didn’t want Medraut to think she had any magic at all. “I gave all that up when I took the warrior’s path. It wasn’t me that summoned them, it was Cataruna and Ifan, and even then, I think it was entirely accidental that they did so. We only summoned the waters to make a swamp, so King March would have to take his forces across Saxon lands rather than ours. I actually think that the Folk came by themselves.”
“Still clever. You saw an opportunity and took advantage of it. It was a good bargain; you lost nothing but a bit of land and got some formidable guards in exchange. Morgana was annoyed that it had not occurred to her to do the same. By the way, you may congratulate me. I have a son.” There was a flash of teeth, catching the light of a camp-fire as they passed. “And before you ask, no, Arthur is still unaware that your sister and I are wed.”
Which meant, of course, that he didn’t want Arthur to know and was reminding her of her promise. “I see. Well, congratulations. You are now ahead of the High King in that game. And the queen remains childless.” Unspoken was the depth of Medraut’s ambition. Unspoken, too, that although Medraut was not only a bastard but the product of incest, when presented with a grown man, a proven warrior, with his own heirs, if Arthur died it was likely that the irregularities of Medraut’s birth would be . . . overlooked. No one wanted to go through the chaos that had followed Uther’s death.
“I know. I live in hope.” There was another flash of teeth. “Meanwhile, I find that I quite enjoy being one of the Companions. It is a strange thing that I find get along better with my brothers now than I did at home. Gwalchmai has been a particular boon friend; he seems to appreciate my wisdom, and I certainly appreciate his muscles. Perhaps he wishes to make up for pummeling me so much as a child.”
That was easy to read. Medraut was finally able to manipulate the rather dim eldest of the Orkney clan and possibly the others as well. “This is the first I have encountered any of them but you. Well, again, I give you congratulations on siring a son. Where are you keeping him and your wife?” she asked. “Surely not with Lot—”
“Oh, Morgana has her. They get along famously. “ He waved a hand airily. “Like sisters, really. It’s quite affecting, to see them together.”
Now what did that mean? That Morgana and Gwenhwyfach hated each other as cordially as Little Gwen hated her real sisters? Or was this to mock her with; implying that Morgana and