Shades of Gray (17 page)

“You look nice, Brother. Briony did well with your hair,” she said, reaching out to touch a silken white lock that lay on his chest. “Even managed to get the tangles out of your beard. She didn’t get you to tie it back, though.”

“Aye, and it costs me plenty in pain, Sister, and for what?” he snapped, jerking his head away from her. “She’d have had me braided and tricked out like a nag for sale on market day! I hate being put on show, and that’s all this is! The Morrigan herself would laugh to see me in this outfit!”

“We sent my men after you for your health, Merlin ...” began Rhydderch, making the sign against the evil eye—one echoed by his wife at the mention of the Mistress of Crows.

“You did not!” His voice rose even as he lifted his hand to point at his brother-in-law. “You brought me back to improve your standing among the other petty kings! Think I am a fool, Rhydderch? I may be mad, but I’m not stupid!” he snorted. “You’ve dragged me from the Goddess’ work to be naught but a trophy in your Court. And what a Court!” he sneered, gesturing toward the Great Hall behind Rhydderch. “Look at them! All they care about is eating, drinking, wenching, and fighting! Did you learn nothing at the table of your High King? I need be about Her business, since not one of you cares for the land and the people any longer.”

“That’s enough, Merlin!” hissed the King, trying to keep his voice low so as not to attract attention from those in the Hall. “You know I control my men as best I can. Winter’s here, in case you hadn’t noticed, and there’s little else for them to do but stay within the confines of the Keep!”

“There’s plenty, if you’ve a mind to do it. Make alliances, patrol borders, keep the brigands in the woods from raiding outlying farms. Ach, you make me sick! There was only one man with the depth of vision to unite all your warring factions, and he’s gone.” He was tired, too old for politics.

“Yes, he is,” said Rhydderch sharply. “I’ll thank you to stop harping on about him. I brought you back to help me make changes, but you left, in the dead of night, on the eve before a meeting of the nearest lords! I’ve not forgotten that, Merlin! Only because Ganieda begged for another chance for you have you gotten this one! Right now I am trying to make alliances with the nearest Angle warlord. His envoys arrived earlier today.”

He barely heard what the other said—it was as if his voice were at the bottom of a deep well. Blinking, he frowned and looked at his sister.

“Why am I here? I should be outside, watching the skies, studying the stars for ships that sail in the night.” Even he heard his voice taking on a slightly querulous tone. “I must find a way to reach one not yet born who lives across the seas of night. One of fur and scales, both mammal and reptile in one body.”

Rhydderch swore. “I thought you said he was better! He’s still raving mad, moonstruck! I prefer him when he fights with me. At least then he talks some sense!”

“He’s not,” she said, leaping instantly to her twin’s defense.

“Moonstruck? Nay, never that,” said Merlin, rallying his wits again. “She came, the witch came, all glowing white with ice in her veins and her breath the blizzards of Winter. But I’d have none of her, even though she wanted this skinny ancient body of mine. I serve Gaia of the Summer lands, of Avalon, and She bids me study the stars. I can’t stay here, I must return to the woods.”

“Shut him up,” hissed Rhydderch, grasping Ganieda firmly by the arm and shaking her as he saw his resident Druid approaching. “I’ll not stand for trouble from the Druids this night—I’ve enough on my plate dealing with the visiting Angles from across the border.” Letting her go, he turned abruptly and left, intercepting the Lawgiver and drawing him toward the high table.

“Merlin, you must stop this wild talk of starships and strangers,” she pleaded, blinking back fresh tears. “We need your help. Rhydderch is trying to arrange a meeting with the leader of the largest Angle war band. If he succeeds ...”

“I know well what it will mean,” he interrupted. “But I also know what will happen if I cannot reach this youth from the stars.”

“Help us tonight, and I promise you I’ll build you a place of your choosing where you can live in comfort and study the stars.”

This caught his attention.

“You swear? On Cerridwen’s Cauldron and your hopes of another life?”

“I swear.”

He smiled, the first genuine one for nearly a year, one that smoothed the lines of fear and worry from his face and made his eyes glitter in the candlelight. “Then let’s to dinner,” he said, catching her by the hand and dragging her into the Great Hall and up to the high table.

 

I wouldn’t say your body is scrawny,
a voice murmured in his mind, drawing him briefly out of Llew’s life and back to his own.

Disoriented, he raised his head, looking down to see himself in bed with Noni lying unclothed beside him. He started to sit, but her hands, claws carefully sheathed, grasped him around the waist.

“Where you going, my bonny man?” she asked, using the Human words. “You need me. This Llew has been fighting to dominate your mind since you were Chosen because of his vision. And I need you.” Her voice dropped to a low purr on her last words.

He let her pull him back down and felt for the first time the softness of her pelt against his own bare skin as she pressed him close against her.

A shuddering sigh of pleasure was the only response he could make.

“Don’t even think to tell me you’re not schooled in the arts of love. I know better,” she whispered in his ear before sinking her teeth gently into the lobe. “Since you’re too much the gentleman—” again a Human term—“I’m going to have to be the one to stake my claim on you and leave my mark for that minx Kuushoi to see.”

Her words were punctuated by little nips until she reached the base of his neck; then the bites changed, sending erotic waves of desire and lust racing through his body. Before he knew it, his throat was arched up, vulnerable to her, and her eyes were glittering down at him.

“Old? No older than me,” she purred, pushing him onto his back, “and just as virile if what I feel pressed against my belly is what I hope it is.”

Beyond words, still half in Llew’s memories, he watched through almost closed eyes as her face descended toward his neck, mouth opening wide, affording him a clear view of the long canines and the row of short incisors between them.

“Goddess help me,” he whispered, reaching out to cup her head in his hands and draw her closer.

As you are Her male vessel, I am Her female one,
Noni sent as her jaws closed over his larynx.

He felt engulfed, had never been so close to death, nor to physical fulfillment as their minds met and began to intertwine. Even with her jaws around his most vulnerable place, he grasped her waist, lifting and positioning her so that as she began to bite down hard, he was entering her.

Equals. I never thought to meet an equal,
she sent, her mind spiraling around his.

The pain of her bite was swift, then gone, and her mouth was seeking his with smaller nips. He could taste his blood on her lips—sharp and metallic, an unexpected aphrodisiac.

His hands stilled her head as he caught hold of her lower lip, biting down equally sharply before she could prevent him.

Blood is life—I shared mine with you, now I take yours to seal our union,
he sent.

Then he was beyond thinking rationally as she proved her skill a match to his own.

 

Against his wishes, Nimue, as publicly demure as ever, sat to his left, serving him from the laden platters. Many had been surprised to see him. The promise of a tower from which to study the stars kept him civil, and as the meal wore on, she grew bolder, reaching under the table to place her hand on his thigh.

“Permit me to visit you this night, Master Merlin,” she said quietly, leaning against him as she offered him slices of the choicest venison with her other hand. “I’ve missed you. Your bed will surely be cold without me.”

Flaxen braids, bronze jeweled clasps decorating their length, fell almost to the floor. Her complexion was as pale as the alabaster vases that came from their Eastern traders, but her eyes—they were dark, almost violet, and fringed by long lashes that cast kohl-dark shadows on her cheeks.

“How old are you now?” he asked abruptly.

“I reached my sixteenth year this autumn, Master.”

“You should marry. The King can find you a worthy husband, as is your due.”

Her face crumpled slightly. “Do I displease you so much, Master? You chose me yourself from among many of your students to be your apprentice.”

“I was wrong. You deserve a life of happiness, not one beset by tending an old man wracked by visions and prophecies. I’ll speak to the King tonight.”

Her hand slid farther, finding his lap. Irritated, he removed it. “Enough, child. I have other work to do. I’m leaving the Court, returning to the forest and the animals. I have no further need of an apprentice until it’s my time to return to the College at Old Sarum.”

“But your bedfellow, yes, for tonight at least,” she murmured, smiling sweetly, persisting despite his attempts to push her hand aside. “You taught me well, Master.”

Her efforts, even though he had blocked them, were having her desired effect. Enraged by the weakness of his body, and finally grateful for the ornately embroidered robe, he thrust his chair back and stood up.

“Leaving already, Master Merlin?” leered the Druid, glancing over at him.

“I have higher work to do than waste my time in this hall of corruption,” he snapped in the sudden silence that fell. “You prostitute yourself to curry favor with those barbarian warlords, Ganieda. They have no intention of allying with you—they are spies for their Angle lords. You suffer their lewd talk and gestures for nothing!”

He turned on Rhydderch, holding onto his returned sanity with an effort. “Deal with your own concerns in Strathclyde, Lord King, I’m returning to my woods to study the stars and avert disasters worse than any the Angles with their feeble intellect and blighted imagination can encompass!”

With that, he left the table and, stepping down from the dais, began to stride down the center of the great hall.

“Stop him!” the Druid called out, jumping to his feet. “He must not leave! Not even the once great Merlin can insult the King like this!”

Merlin stopped, turning back to look at the high table.

“I speak the truth, as I always have. Would you stop me?” he asked amid the stunned silence.

“You tax even my patience, Merlin,” said Rhydderch, his voice taut with anger he couldn’t afford to let loose.

“Your mind has gone; you will be returned to the College,” said the Druid sharply, leaning forward on the table. “Why else would you insult our honored guests? It’s time you were replaced, Merlin!”

He shook his head slowly, trying to read the potentialities of this moment. They were there, just beneath the surface, if only he could catch them . . . “I have several years left to me yet. The College knows this. You know this.”

“I know you’re trying to disrupt this alliance with your talk of spies and conspiracies,” snapped the other.

He felt it strengthening, swirling, then suddenly all the possibilities coalesced. Why was Briac here? What could have brought such a senior Druid as far as Rhydderch’s Court when it was known the King had him as a counselor? Why hadn’t he seen it before—or was his madness what Briac had counted on?

“So, you’d dabble in politics now, would you, Briac?” he asked, stripping the other of his title. He reached for Nimue’s mind, looking for the proof he needed—it was there, the reason why she’d stayed cloistered away from the public Court during his absence.

“You tried to seduce my apprentice,” he accused, raising his voice so it echoed throughout the hall. “You plan to replace me as the Merlin, then betray my King for your own gain? Think again, Briac! Look in his room, Rhydderch. You’ll find letters he’s exchanged with the Angle warlord, letters plotting your downfall!”

Around his shoulders, he felt his hair beginning to stir as if it were alive as he reached down with his mind for the energy of the Earth herself—the energy locked in the very stones of the floor beneath his feet. The power was there, but it was taking too long to gather it. He spread his hands, drawing in the energy of those around him, letting it spread throughout his whole being.

“He lies! Arrest him for treason!” the Druid yelled, his face now flushed with anger. “What are you afraid of?” he demanded when no one moved. “He’s a fool, a mad old fool! His power is spent!”

Chairs scraping back made him spin around to face a group of the King’s favorites.

“Well, Duncan? Have you the courage needed to lay hands on me?” he demanded contemptuously.

“Don’t harm him!” he heard his sister shout. “Check the Druid’s room first!”

He sensed Rhydderch reluctantly nod his consent even without turning around, but he didn’t let his guard down. Even though the favorites relaxed their stance, he remained taut. Every instinct warned him the danger was not yet past.

“I’ll stop you,” said a harsh voice from behind him.

Merlin turned his head, catching the other’s eye. “You’re either a brave man or a fool, Daffyd,” he said quietly, lifting his arms out from his sides and letting the energy visibly play along them like a nimbus. He could smell the ozone now; feel the tingling it caused as every hair on his body began to lift.

“Stay where you are,” he commanded, letting just enough loose to strike the warrior in the chest and send him reeling against the table. The small crack of thunder that accompanied the bolt of energy echoed ominously around the hall, and those before him scattered, overturning their benches in the process.

He turned to face the high table and Briac. “You forget who I am,” he said, gesturing with his other hand and extinguishing the candles in the lower part of the hall. “I’m no spent force, Briac. I serve no man, call no King Master, nor come at the bidding of the College—unlike you.”