Gwenhwyfar_ The White Spirit - Mercedes Lackey [48]
The child was utterly shameless. She filched tasty bits off the plates of others when she was sure they weren’t looking and slipped the tell-tale remains to the dogs under the table; and once, she smuggled a cake with a bite taken out of it onto the plate of the little boy next to her, so that when his father looked for the treat and found it missing, the poor lad got a cuffing and sent off to his bed, whimpering that he hadn’t done anything. And Little Gwen watched him go with a smirk. Even when she was full, she continued to steal, hiding nuts and cakes in her pockets.
When she tired of that, she began doing something under the table; what it was, Gwen could not tell, until a dogfight erupted there, and the poor hounds were sent off with kicks by the men. No one else seemed to notice her antics, though, except for the Merlin. Any time anyone cast a glance at her, she was all dimples and sideways glances and got an indulgent smile in return.
It was a relief when the queen rose, signaling the men that it was time to pull the benches together for more serious drinking, while she and the women dealt with the clearing away. Or rather, the women did it under her direction. Little Gwen’s smirks turned to scowls as she was set to doing tasks like anyone else, under the sharp eye of her mother. As for Gwen and the other squires, their duty until dismissed was to keep the cups and horns of their appointed guests full, and with that to be done, she had no more time to watch her sisters. Shortly, the women were gone, and the men were left to themselves.
Again, the Merlin was abstemious, paying close attention now to all the men as well as the king. He said little, and when he did speak, he asked intelligent and pointed questions. Gwen was relatively certain that he was probing for weak points in the king’s loyalty to the High King and looking for signs of wavering or treachery.
If that was true, he found none of it. Lleudd Ogrfan Gawr was a blunt man, not simpleminded but open in his ways. His loyalty was first to his people, second to his personal allies, and third to the High King.
“It’s a good thing to have a strong High King again, and a better to have one who knows his way about a battle,” the king said, to the nods of satisfaction of those around him. “Goddess bring blessings to him! For all that he’s young, he knows when to fight, and when to talk, and when to send sly men to buy him time.”
“And if he calls on you for your levies?” the Merlin probed. “It’s a hard thing to have to travel across the width of the land to fight some other man’s battles.”
“Hard aye, but they won’t be some other man’s battles, will they?” the king responded. “He’s beaten off the Saxons once and the Northerners twice since he was made High King. If we’d had a proper High King when the Romans came, there’d have been no separate peaces, no tearing apart of tribe from tribe. We’d have fought the carlin knaves on the beach, and that’d have been an end to it! Nay, three years he’s been High King, and only once has he called for levies, when the cursed Northern men came in force in those dragon ships of theirs. And what happened? We came, and we beat ’em, and they haven’t come again!” The men slapped their knees or pounded their feet on the floor in agreement. “If he calls for levies, ’twill be because there’s need. And as for other things, ’tis why he has you, Merlin. You’re the Merlin. Whatever you tell him, you have to think of the whole land. That’s your duty. Aye, men?”
The men pounded their feet again in approval or responded with “aye” in varying tones of enthusiasm and satisfaction.
“So. What Arthur wants from us, by the gods, Arthur will get, unstinting.” With a nod, the king dismissed the entire question and moved on to the subject of the tribes in the North and whether or not they were likely to be a trouble