Morgain's Revenge - Laura Anne Gilman [19]
Gerard looked at the object Merlin had given him, then held it up by the leather thong wrapped around it.
It looked like an ordinary river-stone; gray, smooth, and flat, about the size of Gerard’s palm, rounder at one end and narrow at the other, almost like a teardrop. The rawhide strap was strung through a neatly bored hole at the narrowed end and tied off, creating a loop long enough to hang over one’s neck. With a glance at Merlin for confirmation, Gerard put it around his neck.
“A stone?” Sir Caedor asked.
“A lodestone,” Merlin said. “A lodestone containing a hair from the missing girl-child and a drop of my own blood, among other things you need not worry about. It will lead you to her by the swiftest means available to you, like a pigeon flying back to its cote. I strongly suspect that Morgain has gone to ground in the Orkneys, her mother’s home. She is well-known there, and will feel protected by that. It is a rough land, full of tough-minded folk, but keep to the lodestone and let nothing deter you.”
Merlin looked at Sir Caedor. “That is where your companion comes in. My good sir…” and Merlin put a rounded, rich tone into his voice that made the knight’s shoulders go back and his chest puff out almost instinctively. “Good sir, King Arthur himself places these lads into your care and protection. They have a mission to accomplish that none other might manage, not only to rescue the girl-child, but to learn in doing so what the sorceress Morgain plans next. Upon you, then, rests the responsibility of getting them to their destination intact, and in time to do what they must do.”
Gerard realized that he had underestimated Merlin once again. The enchanter was still dangerously short-tempered and rude, with a wicked sense of humor that most did not appreciate, but he also knew how to coax people when his other tools would not work. And he was very, very good at it.
“Right, then,” Merlin said, stepping back from the trio as they remounted their horses. “As Sir Caedor has urged, time is fleeing. Off you go. And boys”—Merlin caught their gazes—“remember to trust your instincts. What you have inside you is more important than what you may see outside. Remember that!”
“We will,” Newt said. Gerard nodded solemnly, reaching down to take Merlin’s hand in his own. The enchanter seemed somewhat surprised by the action, but returned the clasp firmly, his hand as hard and strong as any knight’s.
“Go. And may the gods, old and new, be with you.”
Gerard turned his mount to face the arched exit. Newt fell in close behind on Loyal, and the mule was tied by a lead rope to his saddle, leaving Sir Caedor to take up the rear.
Merlin raised his arms and chanted something that was caught up in the sudden wind. Gerard shook the hair out of his eyes and squinted, watching the space in front of them. He could hear Newt muttering to Loyal, keeping his mount calm while the portal formed.
When the circular hole in time and space was complete, Gerard took a deep breath and put his heels to his horse’s flanks. Sir Caedor and Newt did likewise, and they rode through the portal, out of Camelot, and once more into the unknown.
SEVEN
There were waves crashing outside, white-capped waters dashing into and around the rocky cliff. Ailis could see them from the window of her room. This was not the same place where they had confronted Morgain before, on the Isle of Apples, although it did seem to be an island. From the coastline she could see in the near distance and the heavy tang of salt in the air, Ailis suspected that she was in the Orkneys, in the castle of Morgain’s—and Arthur’s—birth; the one place where Arthur had given Morgain sole rule, as the daughter of their mother, Ingraine of Orkney.
That was all Ailis knew from the gossip that flew around Camelot. She had never cared nor had a reason to learn more before encountering Morgain in person. And afterward, there had been no one she felt comfortable enough to ask.
When she had finally woke completely, the same servant from