The Hollow Hills - Mary Stewart [174]
She kept me waiting, of course, but she came. This morning she wore red, the colour of cherries, and over the shoulders of the gown her hair looked rosy fair, larch buds in spring, the colour of apricots. Her scent was heavy and sweet, apricots and honeysuckle mixed, and I felt my stomach twist at the memory. But there was no other resemblance to the girl I had loved -- had tried to love -- so long ago: in Morgause's long-lidded green eyes there was not even the pretense of innocence. She came in smiling that close-lipped smile, with the prick of a charming dimple at the corner of her mouth, and, making me a reverence, crossed the room gracefully to seat herself in the high-backed chair. She disposed her robe prettily about her, dismissed her women with a nod, then lifted her chin and looked at me enquiringly. Her hands lay still and folded against the soft swell of her belly, and in her the gesture was not demure, but possessive.
Somewhere, coldly, a memory stirred. My mother, standing with her hands held so, facing a man who would have murdered me. "I have a bastard to protect." I believe that Morgause read my thoughts. The dimple deepened prettily, and the gold-fringed lids drooped.
I did not sit, but remained standing across the window from her. I said, more harshly than I had intended: "You must know why I sent for you."
"And you must know, Prince Merlin, that I am not used to being sent for."
"Let us not waste time. You came, and it's just as well. I wish to speak with you while Arthur is still with the King."
She opened her eyes wide at me. "Arthur?"
"Don't make those innocent eyes at me, girl. You knew his name when you took him to your bed last night."
"Can the poor boy not even keep his bed secrets from you?" The light pretty voice was contemptuous, meant to sting. "Did he come running to your whistle to tell you about it, along with everything else? I'm surprised you let him off the chain long enough to take his pleasure last night. I wish you joy of him, Merlin the kingmaker. What sort of king is a half-trained puppy going to make?"
"The sort who is not ruled from his bed," I said. "You have had your night, and that was too much. The reckoning comes now."
Her hands moved slightly in her lap. "You can do me no harm."
"No, I shall do you no harm." The flicker in her eyes showed that she had noticed the change of phrase. "But I am also here," I said, "to see that you do Arthur no harm. You will leave Luguvallium today, and you will not come back to the court."
"I leave court? What nonsense is this? You know that I look after the King; he depends on me for his medicines, I am his nurse. I and his chamberer look after him in all things. You cannot imagine that the King will ever agree to let me go."
"After today," I said, "the King will never want to see you again."
She stared. Her colour was high. This, I could see, mattered to her. "How can you say that? Even you, Merlin, cannot stop me from seeing my father, and I assure you he will not want to let me go. You surely don't mean to tell him what has happened? He's a sick man, a shock might kill him."
"I shall not tell him."
"Then what will you say to him? Why should he agree to having me sent away?"
"That is not what I said, Morgause."
"You said that after today the King would never want to see me again."
"I was not speaking of your father."
"I don't see -- " She took a sharp breath, and the green-gilt eyes widened. "But you said...the King?" Her breath shortened. "You were speaking of that boy?"
"Of your brother, yes. Where is your skill? Uther is marked for death."
Her hands were working together in her lap. "I know. But...you say it comes today?"
I echoed my own question. "Where is your magic? It comes today. So you had better leave, had you not? Once Uther is gone, who will protect you here?"
She thought for a moment. The lovely