This place, he told me, this valley, might come to be my only sanctuary in the whole world, but only if I kept its secret close. Here I might find some peace from time to time and let Uther rant and rave until I should return. It would do him good, his grandfather said, to realize that there was at least one man in his kingdom who could maintain some independence of his king. Uther was not yet king, but his grandfather had already been proven right.
I had thought my secret to be mine alone after my uncle's death, until the day I opened my eyes from sleep and found my father looking down at me. He had come there to fish as a boy, he told me. We fished together that day, and I told him what Uncle Varrus had told me. His only comment was that Varrus had been a wise man, and from that day my father had never come near the place again. He, too, had given it to me for my own. Over the years, I had built a strong stone hut at the water's edge, with a fine, weatherproof roof of red clay tiles that I had salvaged, a few at a time, from a great pile of the things that had lain for years behind one of the outhouses of the Villa Britannicus. I loved to sleep there beside the little lake, lulled by the gentle sound of the sliding waterfall. I had also, over those same years, varied my approach to the only entrance so that no tell-tale path would betray my sanctuary to the eyes of others.
Now I stood outside the door of the hut with Mod, gazing at the yellow lamp light that shone through the translucent glass of the window I had built into the wall. It had taken me a long time to make that window, ten pieces of thick glass joined by lead and carefully fastened into a wooden frame. It was a good window, letting in light mid keeping the weather out. I stood with my left hand on young Mod's shoulder, reluctant, for some reason I could not identify, to enter the hut.
He finally twisted his head and looked up at me. "Are we going in?"
"Aye, Mod, we are." I stepped forward and pushed the door open.
The room was small, and now it seemed crowded with three people in it. Tumac, the younger of Daffyd's two apprentices, was asleep on a pile of furs against the wall, and Daffyd sat by the side of the cot, feeding the girl Cassandra with a spoon. He turned when he heard us enter and smiled at us. The girl gave no sign of knowing we were there. She did not hear us enter and her eyes were covered by a strip of white cloth. I crossed the room and looked down at her. Her mouth was still a mess, but some of the swelling seemed to have abated.
"How is she?" I asked him.
"On the mend. She has a lot of pain ahead of her, but it is the pain of healing."
"How long will it take her to mend completely?"
"A week, two weeks, perhaps three."
"Why are her eyes covered?"
He reached forward and tucked an edge of the covering more securely into place before he answered me. "Protection. They are badly swollen. There is an unguent on the cloth."
"Why? Has her sight been damaged?"
"I don't think so, although I cannot be sure." He looked back at me. "But how are you, Merlyn? You look frayed."
"I'm well enough, Daffyd. I just need some sleep. I have not had much these past few nights."
"Has Uther returned?"
"No."
"And you have no idea where he might have gone?"
"None at all." Daffyd shook his head and continued spooning a broth of some kind into the girl's mouth. "What are you feeding her?" I asked him.
"Only the boiled juice of some herbs. She is too weak to take anything stronger. Perhaps tomorrow I will stew a rabbit and start her on broth." He paused in his feeding and turned to me. "You really believe Uther did this?"
I seated myself on the wooden chair beside the table. "I don't know, Daffyd. I don't know what to think. And the more I think about it the more confused I become." I looked at the girl and felt a surge of anger and resentment towards her. Her sudden intrusion into our lives had upset everything. She had appeared from nowhere, unannounced, and her mere presence had undone the pattern of my life. Because of this girl, my dearest friend had turned into a monster in my mind and the entire Colony had been thrown into upheaval. She had been aptly named Cassandra, the harbinger of doom. And then, as suddenly as it had come, the feeling passed and I was left looking at a tragic little girl who had had no control over the blows that fate had dealt her. From anger and revulsion my feelings changed directly to pity and concern. I realized that I was overtired. Suddenly the idea of lying down and closing my eyes was irresistible. "Daffyd," I said, "I have to sleep. This minute."
"I know that, my young friend. I was hoping you might realize it, too." He nodded towards an empty corner. "Lie down there."
I went to where Tumac lay and took one of the furs from his pile, but before I yielded completely to temptation, I spoke to Daffyd again. "How long can you stay with her, Daffyd?"
"As long as she needs my care. Why? Did you think I would leave her unattended?"
"No, but I thought you might be expecting me to stay with her, and I can't. I have to be back in Camulod early tomorrow. My father is expected and I don't want him to hear this from anyone's lips but my own."
"That is understandable. Sleep, and don't worry. The girl will be well cared for."
"Thank you, my friend." I spread my fur on the floor, lowered myself onto it and fell asleep before I had time to wrap it around me.
X
As I entered Camulod the following morning I met Titus crossing the main courtyard, looking tired and uncharacteristically irritable. He wasted no time in telling me that my father had returned from patrol just after dawn and had been looking for me, and there was a tone in his voice that fell just short of censure. I thanked him and made no comment on his unusual demeanour, having a shrewd idea of the reason for it. I stabled my horse and went looking for my father immediately, finding him, as I knew I would, working on some records in his day office. He glanced up at me as I entered and nodded towards a chair. I sat down and waited for him to finish what he was doing.
He finally finished a document, sealed it and took it to the door, where he gave it to the guard and told him to have it delivered to the Legate Titus.
"Titus?" I asked him. "Couldn't you just tell him what you want?"
He closed the door carefully before answering me. "Some things must be written.. .have to be, for the sake of order...and for future reference." Having said this, he crossed slowly back to his table and seated himself. "Now. Please, in as few words as possible...what in Hades has been going on here in my absence?" He was speaking very slowly, forcing himself to articulate his words clearly, fighting the tendency to slur forced upon him by his damaged throat.
"What have you heard?"
"Nothing I could believe. Rumours...murder and witchcraft. Titus was...unwontedly silent. Told me to my face I should wait for you. I have waited. I am waiting.''
I began at the beginning and told him the whole story of finding the girl in the first place and bringing her back to Camulod, and then of the assault and of her disappearance. I: did not lie to him. I merely made no mention of the scene in the games room or of the real abduction from the infirmary.
When I had finished he sat looking at me for a long time. "Fine," he said finally, rasping the word. "That's what the common soldier knows. Now...What really happened? Where is Uther? How did the girl vanish...from the infirmary? Why -" He stopped and cleared his throat, then continued very carefully. "Why all this concern...in the first place.. .over a mute foundling who gets herself into trouble? There's.. .There is more to this tale than you are.. .telling."
I sighed and began again, telling him this time what really happened and leaving out no detail. As I spoke, he got up, and began to pace the tiny room, gnawing on the inside of his lower lip. When I had finished my tale this time his comments and questions were terse and to the point.