The crystal cave - Mary Stewart [172]
I went down to the cave to find Cadal busy with his cooking pots, and the young man already struggling with the saddles of our horses.
"Let that alone," I told him. "Cadal, is there hot water?"
"Plenty. Here's a start and a half, orders from the King. London, is it?" Cadal sounded pleased, and I didn't blame him. "We were due for a change, if you ask me. What is it, do you suppose? He" -- jerking his head at the young man -- "doesn't seem to know, or else he's not telling. Trouble, by the sound of it."
"Maybe. We'll soon find out. Here, you'd better dry this." I gave him my cloak, sat down by the fire, and called the young man to me. "Let me see that arm of yours now."
His wrist was blue with bruising, and swollen, and obviously hurt to the touch, but the bones were whole. While he washed I made a compress, then bound it on. He watched me half apprehensively, and tended to shy from my touch, and not only, I thought, with pain. Now that the mud was washed off and I could see him better, the feeling of familiarity persisted even more strongly. I eyed him over the bandages. "I know you, don't I?"
"You wouldn't remember me, my lord. But I remember you. You were kind to me once."
I laughed. "Was it such a rare occasion? What's your name?"
"Ulfin."
"Ulfin? It has a familiar sound...Wait a moment. Yes, I have it. Belasius' boy?"
"Yes. You do remember me?"
"Perfectly. That night in the forest, when my pony went lame, and you had to lead him home. I suppose you were around underfoot most of the time, but you were about as conspicuous as a field mouse. That's the only time I remember. Is Belasius over here for the coronation?"
"He's dead."
Something in his tone made me cock an eye at him over the bandaged wrist. "You hated him as much as that? No, don't answer, I guessed as much back there, young as I was. Well, I shan't ask why. The gods know I didn't love him myself, and I wasn't his slave. What happened to him?"
"He died of a fever, my lord."
"And you managed to survive him? I seem to remember something about an old and barbarous custom -- "
"Prince Uther took me into his service. I am with him now -- the King."
He spoke quickly, looking away. I knew it was all I would ever learn. "And are you still so afraid of the world, Ulfin?"
But he would not answer that. I finished tying the wrist. "Well, it's a wild and violent place, and the times are cruel. But they will get better, and I think you will help to make them so. There, that's done. Now get yourself something to eat. Cadal, do you remember Ulfin? The boy who brought Aster home the night we ran into Uther's troops by Nemet?"
"By the dog, so it is." Cadal looked him up and down. "You look a sight better than you did then. What happened to the druid? Died of a curse? Come along then, and get something to eat. Yours is here, Merlin, and see you eat enough for a human being for a change, and not just what might keep one of your precious birds alive."
"I'll try," I said meekly, and then laughed at the expression on Ulfin's face as he looked from me to my servant and back again.
***
We lay that night at an inn near the crossroads where the way leads off north for the Five Hills and the gold mine. I ate alone in my room, served by Cadal. No sooner had the door shut behind the servant who carried the dishes than Cadal turned to me, obviously bursting with news.
"Well, there's a pretty carry-on in London, by all accounts."
"One might expect it," I said mildly. "I heard someone say Budec was there, together with most of the kings from across the Narrow Sea, and that most of them, and half the King's own nobles, have brought their daughters along with an eye to the empty side of the throne." I laughed. "That should suit Uther."
"They say he's been through half the girls in London already," said Cadal, setting a dish