On the ride home he stayed away from Agravain.
8
HE COULD NOT AVOID HIM, though, once they were back in Camelot.
Some time after their return from Cerdic's capital the King sent again for Mordred, and asked him to stay close and watch his half-brother.
It transpired that word had come from Drustan, the famous fighting captain whom Arthur had hoped to attract to his standard, that, his term of service in Dumnonia being done, he himself, his northern stronghold and his troop of trained fighting men would soon be put at the High King's disposal. He was even now on his way north to his castle of Caer Mord, to put it in readiness, before coming on himself to Camelot.
"So far, good," said Arthur. "I need Caer Mord, and I had hoped for this. But Drustan, for some affair of honour in the past, is sworn blood-brother to Lamorak, and has, moreover, Lamorak's own brother, Drian, at present in his service. I believe you know this. Well, he has already made it clear that he will require me to invite Lamorak back to Camelot."
"And will you?"
"How can I avoid it? He did no wrong. Perhaps he chose his time badly, and perhaps he was deceived, but he was betrothed to her. And even if he had not been," said the King wryly, "I am the last man living who would have the right to condemn him for what he did."
"And I the next."
The King sent him a glance that was half a smile, but his voice was sober. "You see what will happen. Lamorak will come back, and then, unless the three older brothers can be brought to see reason, we shall have a blood feud that will split the Companions straight through."
"So Lamorak is with Drustan?"
"No. Not yet. I have not told you the rest. I know now that he went to Brittany, and has been lodging there with Bedwyr's cousin, who keeps Benoic for him. I have had letters. They tell me that Lamorak has left Benoic, and it is believed that he has taken ship for Northumbria. It seems likely that he knows of Drustan's plans, and hopes to join him at Caer Mord. What is it?"
"Northumbria," said Mordred. "My lord, I believe — I know — that Agravain is in touch with Gaheris, and I also have reason to suspect that Gaheris is somewhere in Northumbria."
"Near Caer Mord?" asked Arthur sharply.
"I don't know. I doubt it. Northumbria is a big country, and Gaheris surely cannot know of Lamorak's movements."
"Unless he has news of Drustan's, and makes a guess, or Agravain has heard some rumour here at court, and got word to him," said Arthur. "Very well. There is only one thing to do: get your brothers back here to Camelot, where they may be watched and to some extent controlled. I shall send to Gawain with a strong warning, and summon him south again. Eventually, if I have to, and if Lamorak will agree, I shall let Gawain offer him combat, here, and publicly. That should surely suffice to cool this bad blood. How Gawain receives Gaheris is his own affair; there, I cannot interfere."
"You'd have Gaheris back?"
"If he is in Northumbria, and Lamorak is making for Caer Mord, I must."
"On the principle that it is better to watch the arrow flying, than leave it to strike unseen?"
For a moment Mordred thought he had made a mistake. The King flashed a quick glance at him, as if about to ask a question. Perhaps Nimuë had used the same image to him, and about Mordred himself. But Arthur passed it by. He said: "I shall leave this to you, Mordred. You say that Agravain is in touch with his twin. I shall let it be known that the sentence on Gaheris is rescinded, and send Agravain to bring him back. I shall insist that you go with him. It's the best I can do; I distrust them, but beyond sending you I dare not show it. I can hardly send troops to make sure they come back. Do you think he will accept this?"
"I think so. I'll contrive it somehow."
"You realize that I am asking you to be a spy? To watch your own kinsmen? Is this something you can bring yourself to do?"
Mordred said, abruptly: "Have you ever watched a cuckoo in the nest?"
"No."
"They are all over the moors at home. Almost as soon as they are hatched, they throw their kin out of the nest, and remain—" He had been going to add "to rule," but stopped himself in time. He did not even know that he had thought the words. He finished, lamely: "I only meant that I shall be breaking no natural law, my lord."
The King smiled. "Well, I am the first to assert that my son would be better than any of Lot's. So watch Agravain for me, Mordred, and bring them both back here. Then perhaps," he finished a little wearily, "given time, the Orkney swords may go back into the sheath."
Soon after this, on a bright day at the beginning of October, Agravain followed Mordred as he walked through the market-place in Camelot, and overtook him near the fountain.
"I have the King's permission to ride north. But not alone, he says. And you are the only one of the knights he can spare. Will you come with me?"
Mordred stopped, and allowed a look of surprise to show. "To the islands? I think not."
"Not to the islands. D'you think I'd go there in October? No." Agravain lowered his voice, though no one was near except two children dabbling their hands in the fountain. "He tells me that he will revoke the ban on Gaheris. He'll let him come back to court. He asked me where he might send the courier, but I told him I was pledged, and couldn't break a pledge. So he says now that I may go myself to bring him back, if you go with me." A sneer, thinly veiled. "It seems he trusts you."
Mordred ignored the sneer. "This is good news. Very well, I'll go with you, and willingly. When?"
"As soon as may be."
"And where?"
Agravain laughed. "You'll find out when you get there. I told you I was pledged."
"You've been in touch all this time, then?"
"Of course. Wouldn't you expect it?"
"How? By letter?"
"How could he send letters? He has no scribe to read or write for him. No, from time to time I've had messages from traders, fellows like that merchant over there who is setting up his cloth stall. So get yourself ready, brother, and we'll go in the morning."
"A long journey? You'll have to tell me that, at least."
"Long enough."
The children, back at their play, sent a ball rolling past Mordred's feet. He reached a toe after it, flipped it up, caught it, and sent it back to them. He dusted his hands together, smiling.
"Very well. I'd like to go with you. It will be good to ride north again. You still won't tell me where we'll be bound for?"
"I'll show you when we get there," repeated Agravain.
They came at length, at the end of a dull and misty afternoon, to a small half-ruined turret on the Northumbrian moors.
The place was wild and desolate. Even the empty moors of mainland Orkney, with their lochs, and the light that spoke of the ever-present sea, seemed lively in comparison with this.
On every hand stretched the rolling fells, the heather dark purple in the misty light of evening. The sky was piled with clouds, and no glimmer of sun spilled through. The air was still, with no wind, no fresh breath from the sea. Here and there streams or small rivers, their courses marked with alders and pale rushes, divided the hills. The tower was set in a hollow near one such stream. The land was boggy, and boulders had been set as stepping-stones across a stretch of mire. The tower, thickly covered with ivy, and surrounded with stumps of mossy fruit trees and elderberries, seemed, once, to have been a pleasant dwelling; could be still, on a sunny day. But on this misty autumn evening it was a gloomy place. At one window of the tower a dim light showed.