The crystal cave - Mary Stewart [72]
The horses were there. Through a gap in the thick roof of pines a cluster of stars burned, showing them clearly. There were only two, standing motionless, with their heads held low and their nostrils muffled against the breast of a slight figure heavily cloaked and hooded against the cold. The hood fell back as he turned to stare; the oval of his face showed pale in the gloom. There was no one else there.
For one startled moment I thought that the black horse nearest me was Ambrosius' big stallion, then as it pulled its head free of the cloak I saw the white blaze on its forehead, and knew in a flash like a falling star why I had been led here.
Behind me, with a scramble and a startled curse, Cadal pulled Aster into the grove. I saw the grey gleam of his sword as he lifted it. "Who's that?"
I said quietly, without turning: "Put it up. It's Belasius. At least that's his horse. Another with it, and the boy. That's all."
He advanced. His sword was already sliding back into its housing. "By the dog, you're right, I'd know that white flash anywhere. Hey, Ulfin, well met. Where's your master?"
Even at six paces I heard the boy gasp with relief. "Oh, it's you, Cadal...My lord Merlin...I heard your horse whinny -- I wondered -- Nobody comes this way."
I moved the mare forward, and looked down. His face was a pale blur upturned, the eyes enormous. He was still afraid.
"It seems Belasius does," I said. "Why?"
"He -- he tells me nothing, my lord."
Cadal said roundly: "Don't give us that. There's not much you don't know about him, you're never more than arm's length from him, day or night, everybody knows that. Come on, out with it. Where's your master?"
"I -- he won't be long."
"We can't wait for him," said Cadal. "We want a horse. Go and tell him we're here, and my lord Merlin's hurt, and the pony's lame, and we've got to get home quickly...Well? Why don't you go? For pity's sake, what's the matter with you?"
"I can't. He said I must not. He forbade me to move from here."
"As he forbade us to leave the road, in case we came this way?" I said. "Yes. Now, your name's Ulfin, is it? Well, Ulfin, never mind the horse. I want to know where Belasius is."
"I -- I don't know."
"You must at least have seen which way he went?"
"N-no, my lord."
"By the dog," exclaimed Cadal, "who cares where he is, as long as we get the horse? Look, boy, have some sense, we can't wait half the night for your master, we've got to get home. If you tell him the horse was for my lord Merlin, he won't eat you alive this time, will he?" Then, as the boy stammered something: "Well, all right, do you want us to go and find him ourselves, and get his leave?"
The boy moved then, jamming a fist to his mouth, like an idiot. "No...You must not...You must not...!"
"By Mithras," I said -- it was an oath I cultivated at the time, having heard Ambrosius use it -- "what's he doing? Murder?"
On the word, the shriek came.
Not a shriek of pain, but worse, the sound of a man in mortal fear. I thought the cry contained a word, as if the terror was shaped, but it was no word that I knew. The scream rose unbearably, as if it would burst him, then was chopped off sharply as if by a blow on the throat. In the dreadful silence that followed a faint echo came, in a breath from the boy Ulfin.
Cadal stood frozen as he had turned, one hand holding his sword, the other grasping Aster's bridle. I wrenched the mare's head round and lashed the reins down on her neck. She bounded forward, almost unseating me. She plunged under the pines towards the track. I lay flat on