The Hallowed Isle Book Three Read Online Free PDF Page A

forest in autumn, when the nuts ripen on the trees.”
    Igierne felt herself flushing, and shook her head. “My moon has passed the full, but it is the sun we should be speaking of. When did you last see Artor?”
    Merlin raised one bushy eyebrow in gentle mockery, but allowed her self-deprecation to pass. “Two, or nearly three moons past. He is rebuilding the fort at Isca. Castra Legionis, they call it. It will serve as a staging area for campaigns against raiders from Eriu. It was very crowded and full of soldiers. I did not stay long.”
    â€œThat is the main threat, then? Not the Saxons?”
    The druid shrugged. “At present. Artor has tamed Hengest’s cub and set him to guard the sheep in Canrium, but the rest of the Saxon pack are still hungry. Ceretic sits in Venta, licking his chops and eyeing the lands around him, and the Anglians roam the fens. Artor will have to deal with them eventually. But why do you ask me? Does not he write to you?”
    â€œFrom time to time—” She tapped the carved wooden casket where she kept Artor’s letters. “But a druid’s sight is different from that of a king.”
    â€œI cannot rule for him, Igierne,” Merlin answered her, “nor can you.”
    She frowned, thinking of the advice she had been sending. Someone must speak for the Goddess, until Artor had a queen. “Is that why you spend so much time roaming the wilds?” she countered. “What if something happens? What if he needs you?”
    â€œI will know.” His voice was a subterranean rumble, as if he spoke through stone. “The stars have shown me that a crisis is coming. For good or for ill, it will settle things with the Saxons for a generation. When that time comes, it is ordained that I be there.”
    Igierne felt the truth of that in her bones. For a few moments there was no sound but the hiss of the fire.
    â€œI too have searched the future,” she said finally. “Two years ago, at Beltain. This year I dared not—I was afraid. I remember the terror, but of what I saw I know only that the Lady of Ravens was there, and red war coming, and a child.”
    â€œI know Her . . .” Merlin’s face twisted with ancient sorrow. “Only the White Raven can stand against her when the war horns blow.”
    â€œBut what of the child?”
    â€œYou called out to me in that vision, and I heard—” Merlin threw up his hands in exasperation. “But what would you have me do? Should I have counselled Artor to order every child born on the first of May exposed? Even Caesar would have been unable to enforce such a decree! Foreknowledge is a deceptive gift, Igierne, for our hopes and fears distort the shapes of what we see. When I was young I searched the heavens constantly, but the older I get, the less I seek to know.”
    â€œBut if you foresee a danger, you can avoid it—” she exclaimed.
    â€œCan you? The Greeks tell of a man called Oedipus, whose efforts to flee his fate instead fulfilled it.”
    Igierne glared at him. She knew that as women got older they often became stronger, more resolute, while many men grew gentler in old age. Certainly it was so with Merlin. He, who in their young days had been hard as the hills, seemed now as elusive as wind or water.
    â€œIf I see danger coming to my country or my child I will confront it,” she told him, leaning forward with her hands on her knees. “And I will not cease to fight that fate while life shall last.”
    â€œPerhaps that is your fate, Igierne,” Merlin said gently, and smiled.
    â€œMother, Aggarban is wearing my red belt!”
    â€œWhy can’t I have it? You said you weren’t taking it with you—”
    Gwyhir’s reply was muffled, as if he had decided to take matters into his own hands. Morgause sighed. She had been regretting Leudonus’ decision to send her second son to join his brother at