The crystal cave - Mary Stewart [168]
"Merlin?"
"My lord?"
"You choose your times strangely. Did it have to be the middle of the night?" He sounded wide awake and no more gracious than usual. But he had come.
I said: "You wanted to see what I have done here, and tonight is the night when I can show you. I am grateful that you came."
"Show me what? A vision? Is this another of your dreams? I warn you -- "
"No. There's nothing of that here, not now. But there is something I wanted you to see which can only be seen tonight. For that, I'm afraid we shall have to wait a little while."
"Long? It's cold."
"Not so long, my lord. Till dawn."
He was standing the other side of the king-stone from me, and in the faint starlight I saw him looking down at it, with his head bent and a hand stroking his chin. "The first time you stood beside this stone in the night, men say you saw visions. Now they tell me in Winchester that as he lay dying he spoke to you as if you were there in his bedchamber, standing at the foot of the bed. Is this true?"
"Yes."
His head came up sharply. "You say you knew on Killare that my brother was dying, yet you said nothing to me?"
"It would have served no purpose. You could not have returned any sooner for knowing that he lay sick. As it was, you journeyed with a quiet mind, and at Caerleon, when he died, I told you."
"By the gods, Merlin, it was not for you to judge whether to speak or not! You are not King. You should have told me."
"You were not King either, Uther Pendragon. I did as he bade me."
I saw him make a quick movement, then he stilled himself. "That is easy to say." But from his voice I knew that he believed me, and was in awe of me and of the place. "And now that we are here, and waiting for the dawn, and whatever it is you have to show me, I think one or two things must be made clear between us. You cannot serve me as you served my brother. You must know that. I want none of your prophecies. My brother was wrong when he said that we would work together for Britain. Our stars will not conjoin. I admit I judged you too harshly, there in Brittany and at Killare; for that I am sorry, but now it is too late. We walk different ways."
"Yes. I know."
I said it without any particular expression, simply agreeing, and was surprised when he laughed, softly, to himself. A hand, not unfriendly, dropped on my shoulder. "Then we understand one another. I had not thought it would be so easy. If you knew how refreshing that is after the weeks I've had of men suing for help, men crawling for mercy, men begging for favours...And now the only man in the kingdom with any real claim on me will go his own way, and let me go mine?"
"Of course. Our paths will still cross, but not yet. And then we will deal together, whether we will or no."
"We shall see. You have power, I admit it, but what use is that to me? I don't need priests." His voice was brisk and friendly, as if he were willing away the strangeness of the night. He was rooted to earth, was Uther. Ambrosius would have understood what I was saying, but Uther was back on the human trail like a dog after blood. "It seems you have served me well enough already, at Killare, and here with the Hanging Stones. You deserve something of me, if only for this."
"Where I can be, I shall be at your service. If you want me, you know where to find me."
"Not at my court?"
"No, at Maridunum. It's my home."
"Ah, yes, the famous cave. You deserve a little more of me than that, I think."
"There is nothing that I want," I said.
There was a little more light now. I saw him slant a look at me. "I have spoken to you tonight as I have spoken to no man before. Do you hold the past against me,