"Sit," he said. "Sit down."
As they did so, the King moved slowly down from his dais to where Uther's lump of coal lay on the floor. He stood gazing at the coal for the space of several heartbeats, and then he slowly backed away from it until he was close to the main doors of the Hall. He turned and pulled them open, and as the doors swung wide, Nemo saw one of the guards outside twist in surprise. Then the King said something and held out his hand.
Ullic approached the coal again, this time carrying a sword he had taken from the guard. While everyone gazed silently, he stood for some time looking down at the black mass. Then he sank to one knee, shifting the sword to his left hand and reaching out with his right to touch the tip of his middle finger to the deep score that Uther's blade had made on the black surface. His gaze sharpened, and he leaned closer to the lump of coal, spreading the fingers of his hand wide over the surface for a moment and peering closely at something. Then gently, tentatively, he drew his thumbnail straight down along one of the fine lines he had detected.
Nemo heard him mutter something to himself at that point, but his voice was pitched too low for her to hear. It was obvious, however, that something had occurred to him. He straightened his back, still on one knee, and took the sword back into his right hand. He held it point down, like a dagger, and braced his fist against his shoulder as he used his left hand to position the point of the blade very carefully against the coal. When he was satisfied that it was properly in place and would not slip, he brought his left hand up and cupped it over his right fist, and then he thrust downward, hard, using the strength and weight of his arms, shoulders and torso to drive the sword point into the coal. A sharp crack, and the lump split cleanly into two flat-sided parts, almost throwing the King off balance with the suddenness of its division. Ullic threw out one hand to retain his balance, and then tested the smoothness of the split sides with his open hand. He nodded his head wordlessly, and then rose to his feet again with a loud sigh, brushing his left hand against his tunic to wipe the coal dust from his palm. He turned next towards the open doors where the guards stood gaping and held out the hand with the sword. Its owner immediately came forward to retrieve it.
"My thanks," the King told him. "Close the doors again when you go out." He watched the doors as they closed behind the departing guard, then made his way back up onto his dais, where he faced his Councillors again.
"If I have learned nothing else about my grandson Uther," he said to them, "I have learned this: the boy, young as he is, is no fool. What you saw him do today might have looked foolish to you, but that is only because none of you knows what he was attempting to do.
"No more do I. But I know that he had a purpose in coming here today, and I know that he would never set out to make himself look foolish before me or before any of you. Think hard upon that before you give voice to scorn when you leave here. You are the King's Council, and when you gather here to advise me, as you do from time to time, your dignity is guarded carefully, and the respect shown to you is unique. How many grown warriors do you know who would dare to walk into your gathering and demand your attention?
"The boy had something in mind with this . . . this thing that he attempted. Clearly, it had something to do with what I did a moment ago, splitting that coal with a blade. I want no sneering stories of what happened here to make their way beyond this Hall. Is that clear? I will not tolerate being crossed in this. We will not punish the boy, even by silence, for one error, no matter if it be of judgment or execution or of simple nervousness. If our young people show self-reliance in any way, we must encourage them, not laugh at them or scorn them." Ullic broke off and looked around at the faces watching him. "I've no doubt, either, that there are some of you sitting here listening to me now and thinking me a fool for saying the like. Well, if you are thinking that, keep the thought to yourself. It would not please me to hear it said aloud or even whispered, and I doubt I would even like to see it showing in your eyes . . . Think me foolish if you will, but keep your thoughts inside you and your faces schooled. And know I believe that we would be the fools to punish any of our bright young lads for trying something new or differed "Now, we have important matters to discuss, so let's be about them."
Chapter FIVE
Uther paused in the empty vestibule that lay inside the massive outer doors of the Great Hall, wiping his sweaty palms as he fazed up at the tall interior doors to his grandfather's Council chamber for the second time in one day. He swallowed hard and drew a deep breath, willing himself not to shudder with dread. He was alone in the vestibule, the guards having been dismissed when the Council gathering ended more than an hour before. Desperate for an excuse, any excuse, to postpone opening those doors and entering the Hall to face his grandfather, he allowed himself to think for a moment about the Guards of the Great Hall, as they were called. They were proud and independent Pendragon warriors, not soldiers like the garrison guards in Camulod, who were allocated guard duties in strict rotation by their officers. Those who stood on guard for the King's Council in Tir Manha did so voluntarily, and the rotation by which they took their turns to serve was an informal one, an honour shared among equals in recognition of time-hallowed custom.
One of the two who had stood guard earlier in the day had been sent by Ullic Pendragon to find the King's grandson afterwards and hid him return to the Hall, and Uther had followed him with leaden footsteps. The time had come for him to explain himself and accept responsibility for his behaviour, which he knew his grandfather and his father must be considering inexcusable. He drew one more deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut and then reached out for the iron handle on the right door, twisting it firmly.
"Uther!" The cry, urgent and muted, came from behind him and he hesitated on the point of pushing the door wide open. He knew it was Nemo; he had recognized her voice immediately. He paused, wavering, as she called his name again, then turned to see her running hard towards him across the cobblestoned yard outside the massive doors of squared oak beams that always stood open on the days of Council gatherings. Frowning and shaking his head, he waved her away. She had no right to approach the King's Hall—as a woman, she would be trespassing.
Nemo saw the anguished look on his face and the peremptory way his hand came up to stop her, and she slid to a halt, leaning against the edge of one of the huge, grey wooden doors, her heart pounding and her breath catching in her throat from running all the way around the buildings to reach the only entrance to this courtyard. She had taken the risk of being seen and caught only when she had heard King Ullic say to the Chief Druid, who had been the last man to leave the Council chamber, that he expected his grandson at any moment.