Legacy: Arthurian Saga Read Online Free PDF Page A

a rude sign, and then chopped silently,
expressively, downwards.
    I had paused in the doorway, and
behind me my nurse's hand twitched my tunic into place and then
gave me a push between the shoulder-blades. "Go on now. Straighten
your back. He won't eat you." As if to give the lie to this, I
heard the click of charms and the start of a muttered
prayer.
    The room was full of people. Many of
them I knew, but there were strangers there who must be the party I
had seen ride in. Their leader sat near the King's right,
surrounded by his own men. He was the big dark man I had seen on
the bridge, full-bearded, with a fierce beak of a nose and thick
limbs shrouded in a scarlet cloak. On the King's other side, but
standing below the dais, was my mother, with two of her women. I
loved to see her as she was now, dressed like a princess, her long
robe of creamy wool hanging straight to the floor as if carved of
new wood. Her hair was unbraided, and fell down her back like rain.
She had a blue mantle with a copper clasp. Her face was colorless,
and very still.
    I was so busy with my own fears -- the
gesture from Dinias, the averted face and downcast eyes of my
mother, the silence of the people, and the empty middle of the
floor over which I must walk -- that I had not even looked at my
grandfather. I had taken a step forward, still unnoticed, when
suddenly, with a crash like a horse kicking, he slammed both hands
down on the wooden arms of his chair, and thrust himself to his
feet so violently that the heavy chair went back a pace, its feet
scoring the oak planks of the platform.
    "By the light!" His face was mottled
scarlet, and the reddish brows jutted in knots of flesh above his
furious little blue eyes. He glared down at my mother, and drew a
breath to speak that could be heard clear to the door where I had
paused, afraid. Then the bearded man, who had risen with him, said
something in some accent I didn't catch, and at the same moment
Camlach touched his arm, whispering. The King paused, then said
thickly, "As you will. Later. Get them out of here." Then clearly,
to my mother: "This is not the end of it, Niniane, I promise you.
Six years. It is enough, by God! Come, my lord."
    He swept his cloak up over one arm,
jerked his head to his son, and, stepping down from the dais, took
the bearded man by the arm, and strode with him towards the door.
After him, meek as milk, trailed his wife Olwen with her women, and
after her Dinias, smiling. My mother never moved. The King went by
her without a word or a look, and the crowd parted between him and
the door like a stubble-field under the share.
    It left me standing alone, rooted and
staring, three paces in from the door. As the King bore down on me
I came to myself and turned to escape into the anteroom, but not
quickly enough.
    He stopped abruptly, releasing
Gorlan's arm, and swung round on me. The blue cloak swirled, and a
corner of the cloth caught my eye and brought the tears to it. I
blinked up at him. Gorlan had paused beside him. He was younger
than my uncle Dyved had been. He was angry, too, but hiding it, and
the anger was not for me. He looked surprised when the King
stopped, and said: "Who's this?"
    "Her son, that your grace would have
given a name to," said my grandfather, and the gold flashed on his
armlet as he swung his big hand up and knocked me flat to the floor
as easily as a boy would flatten a fly. Then the blue cloak swept
by me, and the King's booted feet, and Gorlan's after him with
barely a pause. Olwen said something in her pretty voice and
stooped over me, but the King called to her, angrily, and her hand
withdrew and she hurried after him with the rest.
    I picked myself up from the floor and
looked round for Moravik, but she was not there. She had gone
straight to my mother, and had not even seen. I began to push my
way towards them through the hubbub of the hall, but before I could
reach my mother the women, in a tight and silent group round her,
left the hall by