Jack Whyte - Uther

Why then, she found herself wondering now, could she not summon up the anger and hatred that she knew was there inside her? She found herself shaking, as though she was in a fever, and she suddenly realized that she was shaking with fury, and that her rage was not directed at her captors. She sat completely upright, her eyes staring blankly at the wall, and shouted for Dyllis.

The flaps at the front of the tent were ripped open and two guards sprang in, bare blades already raised and ready to strike. Seeing her alone on her cot, sitting upright, they paused, frozen in mid-step.

"Lady?" growled one of the guards, while the other, Nemo, looked all around the tent. Ygraine shook her head, swallowing to free her voice.

"A dream," she said, huskily. "It frightened me. I was asleep. A dream, no more. My thanks."

The guards retreated slowly and went back outside, sheathing their swords and looking all about them, not yet convinced that all was well. Dyllis stood by the gap in the partition, her troubled gaze on Ygraine's face.

"Don't be concerned, Dyllis. Come over here and sit with me. I need to talk with you."

Ygraine turned sideways on her cot so that she could place her feet on the floor of the tent, which was no more than the grassy surface of the meadow surrounding them. She slipped her hands beneath her legs, palms downward between her thighs and the cot, and leaned forward to gaze directly into Dyllis's eyes.

"You are from Cornwall, Dyllis," she said. "Tell me, then, about Gulrhys Lot, my husband. But tell me as you would a friend, not as you would his wife or his Queen."

"My lady?" Dyllis's head was tilted slightly in confusion. Ygraine tried again.

"Dyllis, listen to me carefully, my dear . . . We have been together now for, what, three years? In all that time, I have never heard you or any of my women say anything about my lord and husband that might be taken as defamatory or treasonous or malicious. Or even honest, for that matter. Have I?" She shook her head and closed her eyes to shut out Dyllis's agonized look. "And yet I know that Morgas has been Gulrhys Lot's mistress since before I wed him, and so remains, from time to time. And I know, too, that this husband of mine has possessed every other one of my women, including you, since he wedded me. I know, in fact, that of all of us thirteen women, I am one of the least frequently blessed by his lustful potency." She heard a whimper from the other woman and opened her eyes quickly to see the pitiful expression on her face, a mixture of grief, fear and pain. "No, Dyllis. no, I am not angry. By all the gods, I swear I am happy for this, because—" She stopped short and drew a deep breath, conscious of the enormity of what she was about to say next and anticipating the pleasure she would gain from saying it.

"Because, Dyllis," she continued, "I, Ygraine Mac Athol of Eire, loathe and detest and hate my so-called lord and master, Gulrhys Lot of Cornwall. He is a foul and repulsive toad of a creature, for all his false, gentle smiles and winning ways. He is an evil, treacherous and overweening blot upon the earth. And it has taken me three years to acknowledge it. Since I have come to Cornwall, my ignoble lord has lain with me a total of five times. The first time, I was ecstatic, virginal, excited and afraid, and filled with wonder—and he brutalized me. The second time, more than a month later, I was no longer virgin, but even more afraid, and he tied me down and beat me and abused me, left me whimpering and terrified and sick . . . On the last three of those times I lay beneath him like a rotted log, my soul writhing in disgust and shame at what I had to do in being his wife.

"Two times, Dyllis. That was all he needed to convert his wife from a trembling novice into a disdainful, dutiful vessel into which he might relieve himself at his leisure. I have thanked all the gods in silence ever since then—the gods of Cambria and Eire and of everywhere else that gods might lurk—that there are many women willing to appease a King's lusts at any time. And I thanked the same gods doubly that he chose to send me off to live in exile with our friend Herliss in his white fortress of Tir Gwyn. There, away from his lusts and his bestiality, I have found a kind of happiness."

Ygraine sat silent then for several moments before withdrawing both her hands and holding them out impulsively towards Dyllis. The smaller woman took both of them in hers and leaned closer to her mistress, although she was still manifestly unwilling to speak, perhaps unsure of what to say.

"And yet," the Queen continued, "I have been at pains . . . have gone to extreme lengths . . . to maintain an outward show of loyalty and duty to this—thing that was my husband. Why? Can you tell me that Dyllis? Can you tell me why I should strive so hard to do that when the creature has debauched every one of my women, overcoming any loyalty they might have had to me by striking terror into them, if not for themselves, then for their families and loved ones? Or can you tell me why I have remained silent for as long as I have, knowing in my heart that my friends and their families were being abused and betrayed and terrorized by his outrageous and inhuman behaviour? Dyllis, I have spent years now wed to a creature beside whom a serpent would seem admirable and upright. Can you tell me how and why I have permitted that to be?" She squeezed the other woman's hands. "Fear not, my dear, I do not expect an answer . . . I am but talking aloud to myself at last, with open eyes and without fear.

"But listen carefully now. I would like you to number for me, if you will, every single instance you have seen or heard of the famous savagery and brutal depravity of this King Uther Pendragon. Point out to me, if you will, how and when and where he has abused us, any of us or any of our Cornish people, since we fell into his hands." She made a gesture with open hands, inviting comment, then fell silent, waiting.

Dyllis sat blinking at her for a long time before she, too, nodded and spread her hands.

"My lady, I cannot."

"No, you cannot. Nor can I, Dyllis, nor can I. And there is something else I cannot do, something of far greater import: I cannot remember ever having heard a single report of Uther Pendragon's foulness that did not come, in one way or another, from Gulrhys Lot."

She rose to her feet and crossed to the front of the tent where she pulled open the flaps and called for the guard. A moment later. Nemo pulled back the flaps and looked at her inquiringly. Ygraine nodded and spoke quietly and with courtesy.

"Your King said he would return here later to talk with me. Would you inform him that I would like to speak with him, if he has time?"

Nemo blinked once, glanced incuriously towards the other woman, then turned and left without a word.

A very short time later, Uther's voice sounded from the front of the tent, asking if he might come in. When Ygraine invited him to enter, he did so, stooping automatically to clear the lintel even though he wore no helmet and there was ample room above his head. Once inside, he stopped and looked from Ygraine to Dyllis, then back to Ygraine.

"You wish to speak to me?"

"Yes. I want to ask you some questions. Will you sit?"

The two footlockers still sat as he had arranged them earlier, one atop the other, and he moved to sit on them again. Ygraine remained standing, watching him as he moved. When he was settled, she moved closer to him, holding her hands clasped behind her back.

"Tell me how my brother Donuil came to be in Camulod."

Uther gazed calmly at her, then nodded. "Merlyn captured him three years ago when your people attacked us from the north as Lot attacked from the south. Merlyn captured, then released, almost two thousand of your folk and kept Donuil as hostage against your father's promise to remain uninvolved. It was to be for five years, but Merlyn and Donuil became friends, and Merlyn freed him from his oath as a hostage a year later. Donuil chose to stay in Camulod after his release to work with Merlyn."