The crystal cave - Mary Stewart [57]
The commander said, very quietly: "Beside the standing stone?"
"Yes, sir."
He turned his head. The group of men and horses was very near the stone. I could see it behind the horsemen's shoulders, thrusting up torchlit against the night sky.
"Stand aside and let him see," said the tall man, and some of them moved.
The stone was about thirty feet away. Near its base the frosty grass showed scuffled by boots and hoofprints, but no more. Where I had seen the white bull fall, with the black blood gushing from its throat, there was nothing but the scuffled frost, and the shadow of the stone.
The torch-bearer had shifted the torch to throw light towards the stone. Light fell now straight on my questioner, and for the first time I saw him plainly. He was not as young as I had thought; there were lines in his face, and his brows were down, frowning. His eyes were dark, not blue like his brother's, and he was more heavily built than I had supposed. There was a flash of gold at his wrists and collar, and a heavy cloak dropped in a long line from shoulder to heel.
I said, stammering: "It wasn't you. I'm sorry, it -- I see now, I must have dreamed it. No one would come with a rope, and a short knife, alone against a bull...and no man could drag a bull's head up and slit its throat...it was one of my -- it was a dream. And it wasn't you, I can see that now. I -- I thought you were the man in the cap. I'm sorry."
The men were muttering now, but no longer with threats. The young officer said, in quite a different tone from any he had used before: "What was he like, this 'man in the cap'?"
His brother said quickly: "Never mind. Not now." He put out a hand, took me by the chin, and lifted my face. "You say your name is Myrddin. Where are you from?"
"From Wales, sir."
"Ah. So you're the boy they brought from Maridunum?"
"Yes. You knew about me? Oh!" Made stupid by the cold and by bewilderment, I made the discovery I should have made long ago. My flesh shivered like a nervous pony's with cold, and a curious sensation, part excitement, part fear. "You must be the Count. You must be Ambrosius himself."
He did not trouble to answer. "How old are you?"
"Twelve, sir."
"And who are you, Myrddin, to talk of offering me service? What can you offer me, that I should not cut you down here and now, and let these gentlemen get in out of the cold?"
"Who I am makes no difference, sir. I am the grandson of the King of South Wales, but he is dead. My uncle Camlach is King now, but that's no help to me either; he wants me dead. So I'd not serve your turn even as a hostage. It's not who I am, but what I am that matters. I have something to offer you, my lord. You will see, if you let me live till morning."
"Ah, yes, valuable information, and five languages. And dreams, too, it seems." The words were mocking, but he was not smiling. "The old King's grandson, you say? And Camlach not your father? Nor Dyved, either, surely? I never knew the old man had a grandson, barring Camlach's baby. From what my spies told me I took you to be his bastard."
"He used sometimes to pass me off as his own bastard -- to save my mother's shame, he said, but she never saw it as shame, and she should know. My mother was Niniane, the old King's daughter."
"Ah." A pause. "Was?"
I said: "She's still alive, but by now she's in St. Peter's nunnery. You might say she joined them years ago, but she's only been allowed to leave the palace since the old King died."
"And your father?"
"She never spoke of him, to me or any man. They say he was the Prince of Darkness."
I expected the usual reaction to that, the crossed fingers or the quick look over the shoulder. He did neither. He laughed.
"Then no wonder you talk of helping kings to their kingdoms, and dream of gods under the stars." He turned aside then, with a swirl of the big cloak. "Bring him along, one of you. Uther, you may as well give him your cloak again before he dies in