Jack Whyte - Uther

"I discovered the reason for that change soon after my arrival. My brother Connor had come to visit Lot, asking after me, while I was your prisoner . . . shortly before I came back here, in fact. Lot has no wish to offend Connor, or my other brother, Brander." She was smiling very slightly as she said this. "My father's people live upon the seacoast, in large part. They are boat-builders, renowned throughout all Eire for the quality of their galleys. My father commands galleys—fleets of galleys. My brothers, Connor and Brander, are his admirals. Lot prides himself on being a commander of pirates, but he knows my brothers could sweep the sea clean of every craft he owns if he offended them.

"Before I returned from my captivity, my adventure with you, Connor came seeking me at Rosnant. I was not there, of course, but I know that what frightened Lot—and it really frightened him, for some reason—was the fact that he could not tell Connor where I was. He could not even lie about it, lest Connor insist on travelling to find me. I have no idea what was said between the two of them, but I know it must have made a deep impression upon Lot, for since the moment I appeared again, he has been lavishing me with attention, catering to my every wish and generally trying to be the most adoring and attentive of husbands."

"So you are sleeping with him . . ."

"Aye, I am." Her head came up high, her eyes flashing. "And even rutting with him, but not often . . . I told him I would kill him as he slept if he ever dared use me again the way he did when we two first were wed."

"What?" Uther sat straighten "What did he do?"

"Nothing that you need know about, and he would never dare try it again. But here is something you should know about. I went into his bed without protest when I returned because I thought I might be with child by you. I was not. but I thought I might have been."

"But it was but two nights!"

"One time is enough, Uther Pendragon, if it is the destined time. Surely you are old enough to know the truth of that?"

"And . . ." He cleared his throat and tried again. "Were you . . . would you have been unhappy to find yourself with child?"

"I don't know, because I never really had to dwell upon the thought. My courses came in their due time and life went on. But in the meantime, Lot had been close enough to me to guarantee that if my belly did begin to swell, he could call himself the sire, and that suited me well. Little point in dying for something so fleeting as the time we two had together, don't you think?"

Uther frowned, unsure of how he ought to answer that, and as he wondered, he heard the sounds of Herliss and Lagan returning. Ygraine spoke quickly into the silence between them, lowering her voice.

"I've placed you in a room apart from everyone, but close enough to mine to be reachable. Does that please you?"

His heart leaped in his chest. "Yes, it does. I low will I find your room, and when?"

"Be content. I'll come to you. I know the way and none will see or hear me. Now let's talk of other things."

Uther turned his head slightly and saw that Herliss and Lagan were bringing another person with them, this one a tall, robed figure carrying a harp of some description beneath one arm, a harp, Uther thought, that was smaller than any he had seen before.

"Look what we found," Herliss shouted. "Anrac is here! It's been more than six years since last he came and sang his songs for us, and here he is, appeared from nowhere, when we have dire need of a bard's songs and music."

In the bustle of greeting the tall Druid, the entire tenor of the gathering changed, and as the man was tuning his harp and preparing to play for them, Ygraine sent a messenger to summon Dyllis and Lydia to join them again and share in the entertainment. The fire was stoked up, the candles and lamps renewed and replenished, the servants were invited to come in and listen, and for the following few hours, the hall rang with music.

Chapter THIRTY-THREE

Some time in the middle of the night, they woke each other up and made love for a fourth, or perhaps a fifth time. They were in no rush now, voluptuous in their enjoyment of each other, delighting mutually in the gradual and deliberate buildup of pleasure that would eventually become intolerable, but in the building was indescribable. They luxuriated in the warmth and softness of the bed and in the intimacy of their coupling, and when it was over, Ygraine moaned softly with contentment and rolled onto her back, snuggling her bottom into Uther's lap, the back of one thigh draped comfortably over his waist. He adjusted himself to her movement, rolling inwards voluptuously with a slow thrust of his pelvis towards her centre, scissoring one knee up along her left leg and bringing an arm around to hook his elbow behind her upraised right knee, clasping her thigh's heavy firmness tightly and pulling her knee up to his shoulder, unwilling to risk falling away from her embrace, and they lay together in companionable silence, each aware that the other was awake. Neither felt any urge to speak.

They had spoken for hours, earlier, first in the public forum of the discussions around the dinner table, around the fire alter that, and then in private, face to face and mouth to mouth when she had first come to his bed some time far in advance of midnight. Now, lying together, they each had their own thoughts, and neither felt any compulsion to share them with the other, or to communicate in any way apart from the physical sensations that still joined them.

It was Uther who spoke first, running an open hand along her thigh. "I'm glad you sent for me, lady."

"Hmm, so am I . . ."

"But why did you? Send for me, I mean . . . If you had gone so far as to trust Lagan with this task, then you could easily have entrusted him with your tidings, too."

"I could have, but I wanted to tell them to you in person." She stirred slightly, then paused before asking, "Do you mean you had no thought that I might simply want to see you for yourself? For my own benefit?"

"No . . . I suppose I didn't think you would take such a risk for purely selfish reasons."

"What better reason could a woman have in summoning a man? In very truth, though, since you are so forthright in stating your opinions, I sent for you because . . ."

The silence was so long that he had to prompt her, impatient with waiting, not knowing whether he was being teased or not. "Because what?"

"Because I could. I was on my way, and it had taken me months to arrange to come here to the only place in this entire land where I could meet with you in safety without being afraid that we would be taken and you slaughtered."

"You would have been slaughtered too."

"I would have made the trade willingly enough." She hesitated, then resumed in a more sombre tone. "No, that's not true. Lot would not dare to kill me now, not after that last confrontation with my brother. It would mean an end to him, were I to disappear for any reason, and he's far too careful of himself to risk that."

"I see, but still you would gladly have taken the risk of dying, would you? Am I that wondrous?"

"Come here." She twisted her body backwards and down somehow, and he rose up to meet her and she kissed him deeply, the scent of her hair filling his awareness, overwhelming everything else. When she would have pulled away again, however, he held her to him and whispered into her ear, "So, what will you do now if we have made a child this time?"

"I'll cherish it and love it and raise it as a son of mine and yours."

"But you would not tell Lot."

"No, d'you take me for a complete fool? That kind of vengeance would be self-destructive. He would simply kill the child and be amply revenged on both of us, me and you . . . not because of jealousy, but simply because he does not want to hear such things."