Queen of the Summer Stars Read Online Free PDF

chamber.
    He bounded up the inner stairs two at a time, and she paused in the doorway, her shadow filling the stairwell as it raced out to meet him. When he reached the landing she flung herself into his arms.
    For one oblivious moment she was wrapped in the cloud of his cape before he lifted her off her feet and carried her across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind them.
    Maybe it was the spring in his step, or the ease with which he held her, so light and sure, that gave her warning. Even before he set her on her feet and stepped back, letting the hood fall away from his face, Igraine knew this was not her husband. Yet she stared into Uther’s eyes with surprise rather than outrage.
    They stood in confrontation for a long, long minute, each silently probing the other. The High King watched her carefully, knowing that the longer she delayed in sounding the alarm, the less likely it was she would do so. And Igraine watched him, appalled and thrilled by the risk he was taking.
    At last the Pendragon reached for her wrists and tried to draw her to him.
    “What of Gorlois?” she asked, resisting the invitation in spite of her own desire. With a cold will she kept her voice as level as her gaze.
    “He sleeps on his field-cot, safe at Dimilioc, M’lady,” Uther replied. “I am not here as a victor come to take the widow of my vanquished foe. I am here because you want me as much as I want you, and we are well met as equals.”
    In spite of the fact that she was trembling visibly, Igraine studied the man before her, gauging the depth of his words, the pride of his tone. Like the red doe that makes no commitment to the stag until he has proven his ability to overtake her, the Duchess stood poised as if for further flight.
    Neither of them moved, though her skin tingled where he held her wrists.
    “There is a fever that rages between us,” Uther whispered, bending close above but not quite touching her. “I am as certain of that as I am of which way the wind blows at sunrise. But you must come to me of your own choice—-there shall be no thought of rape between us.”
    He waited, his lips just short of hers.
    Igraine felt the warmth of his breath against her skin, and the flutter of her heart as she stretched on tiptoe to reach his mouth. Passion leapt up within her and in one motion she freed her hands and twined them through his hair, her lips finding his mouth with a kiss as eager as his own. He gathered her up against his body and she wrapped her legs around his waist, hardly even aware when he lowered her to the bed.
    ***
     
    “It was a night when I was the Goddess incarnate, and that huge carved bed was my altar,” the Queen Mother whispered. “After the first wild need was met, we turned to pillow talk and he told me how Merlin had worked out a plan for invading Tintagel through the postern gate. Somehow the Magician had learned the password for the night, and disguising Ulfin and himself to look like Gorlois’s men, led the little group up the secret, cliffside path. But it was the black Spanish cape that was the master stroke—even men on guard can be tricked into seeing what they expect, if one is careful.
    “Uther was immensely proud of having gotten through the gate, and I marveled at his courage. And later, when he slept and I lay watching him, I knew that for this one night I had been given the trust of a fierce, free thing that must occasionally seek sanctuary or it will beat itself to death. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you, Gwen, since you never met him.”
    “Perhaps,” I murmured as Ettard came quietly into the room. She announced that a priest was waiting outside, but the Queen Mother shook her head and Ettard discreetly withdrew.
    “Before I forget,” Igraine said when the door had closed, “I’ve left that girl what little property I haven’t given to the monks at Tintagel. It should be enough to keep her comfortable, and I’d appreciate it if you’d find a place