The Last Enchantment Read Online Free PDF Page B

her wine, and sat sipping it while I finished the tale, the smile still on her mouth.
    One other thing, one most important thing, would also have been news to her; but of this I said nothing.
    But the unspoken part of the tale was loud in my own mind, so that when Ygraine spoke next, I must have jumped like a dog to the whip. "And Morgause?"
    "Madam?"
    "You have not spoken of her. She must have grieved for her father. It was a fortunate thing that she could be near him. He and I have both had cause to thank God for her skills."
    I said, neutrally: "She nursed him with devotion. I am sure that she will miss him bitterly."
    "Does she come south with Arthur?"
    "No. She has gone toYork , to be with her sister Morgan."
    To my relief she asked no more questions about Morgause, but turned the subject, asking where I was lodged.
    "In the tavern," I told her. "I know it from the old days, when I was working here. It's a simple kind of place, but they have taken pains to make me comfortable. I shan't be here for long." I glanced round me at the glowing room. "For yourself, do you plan a long stay, madam?"
    "A few days only." If she had noticed my look at the luxury surrounding her, she gave no sign of it. I, who am not normally wise in the ways of women, realized suddenly that the richness and beauty of the place were not for Ygraine's own comfort, but had been deliberately contrived as a setting for her first meeting with her son. The scarlet and gold, the scents and waxlights, were this ageing woman's shield and enchanted sword.
    "Tell me — " She spoke abruptly, straight out of the preoccupation that, through all else, bound her.
    "Does he blame me?"
    It was the measure of my respect for Ygraine that I answered her directly, with no pretense that the subject was not uppermost in my mind as well. "I think you need have no fear of this meeting. When he first knew of his parentage, and of his inheritance, he wondered why you and the King had seen fit to deny him that birthright. He could not be blamed if, at first, he felt himself wronged. He had already begun to suspect that he was royal, but he assumed that — as in my case — the royalty came sideways...When he knew the truth, with the elation came the wondering. But — and I swear that this is true — he gave no hint of bitterness or anger; he was anxious only to know why. When I had told him the story of his birth and fostering, he said — and I will give you his exact words — 'I see it as you say she saw it; that to be a prince one must be ruled always by necessity. She did not give me up for nothing.'"
    There was a little silence. Through it I heard echoing, unspoken save in my memory, the words with which he had finished: "I was better in theWildForest , thinking myself fatherless, and your bastard, Merlin, than waiting yearly in my father's castle for the Queen to bear another child to supplant me."
    Her lips relaxed, and I saw her sigh. The soft underlids of her eyes had a faint tremor, which stilled as if a finger had been laid on a thrumming string. Colour came into her face, and she looked at me as she had looked all those years ago, when she had begged me to take the baby away and hide him from Uther's anger. "Tell me...what is he like?"
    I smiled slightly. "Did they not tell you, when they brought you news of the battle?"
    "Oh, yes, they told me. He is as tall as an oak tree and as strong as Fionn, and slew nine hundred men with his own hand alone. He is Ambrosius come again, or Maximus himself, with a sword like the lightning, and the witchlight round him in battle like the pictures of the gods at the fall of Troy. And he is Merlin's shadow and spirit, and a great hound follows him everywhere, to whom he speaks as to a familiar." Her eyes danced. "You may guess from all this that the messengers were black Cornishmen from Cador's troop. They would always rather sing a poem than state a fact. I want fact."
    She always had. Like her, Arthur had dealt with facts,