Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 1 - The Fort at River's Bend

"Good," I replied. "That's as it should be. And the longer he remains absent, the better it will be for the boy."

I had followed Shelagh's inspired suggestion long since, and arranged my own disappearance, making sure that everyone in Ravenglass had seen Arthur and me sail away with Connor. What no one knew but us, however, was that Connor had landed us again, no more than a few miles farther along the coast, safely out of sight of Ravenglass and its people. We had then returned here and become the childless Master Cay and his young apprentice.

I had not moved from my original position facing him, and now I wiped the heavy perspiration from my face, blinking the sting of it from my eyes and thinking we had almost been in the steam room too long. When I opened my eyes again, Derek was still standing there, gazing down at me, his towel hanging from his hand, and Luke had shrugged himself up into a seated position, bent forward with one elbow on his knee while he wiped his face with the towel he had been using as a pillow.

"What?" I asked. "What's wrong? What are you staring at?"

"May I ask you a question?"

I glanced at Lucanus, surprised that Derek would even think to seek permission before blurting his question out. "Of course."

"Do you trust me? That's not the one, not the question, I mean."

I smiled up at him and then rose to my feet. "Let's get out of here, before we melt. Of course I trust you. How could you even need to ask that, after all this time?"

Lucanus stood aside to allow us to pass him, then followed us out into the dry, cool air of the pool-room suite. All three of us plunged quickly into the cold pool, which had the effect of ice on our overheated bodies, and climbed quickly out to towel ourselves down briskly until our skins were glowing with cleanliness and health. By common consent, none of us spoke until all three were dry, and then we made our way to the changing rooms, where we began to dress. Lucanus was the first to speak," uttering his first words since entering the bathhouse, more than an hour earlier.

"I can't believe we're the only ones here."

Derek glanced at him beneath raised brows. "Believe it, they're all stuffing themselves. We'll be lucky if there's anything left for us to eat by the time we get out there." He began moving towards the door.

I felt at peace, not the slightest pang of hunger gnawing at me, and I ignored their efforts to leave, choosing instead to speak with Derek when there were no other ears about to hear me. "You were going to ask me a question, moments ago. But why did you ask me if I trusted you?"

Derek stopped, with his hand on the door, and then turned about and came back, sitting down squarely on the seat across from me. "Because your answer would decide the form of my next question. I knew you trusted me with this secret ... the secret of your whereabouts and your identity—because you know you're safe there. My existence, and my people's, depends on my good faith in that. But I meant, do you trust me beyond that?"

I could see from his face that he was serious, that he expected me to respond, and that he was watching me closely enough to discern the truth were I to attempt to dissemble in any way. I stared back at him, narrowing my eyes and nibbling at the inside of my lower lip. He waited, staring at me as I sought the words I would use. Finally they came to me.

"Yes, Derek, I trust you, far beyond that. I always have, though for no logical reason. I simply have, and that's all there is to it That's why we came to Ravenglass in the first place. I came in answer to a dream that told me I might trust you. I'll admit openly to you now that there have been times I have wondered at myself, and debated the wisdom and the folly of my own feelings, but I chose to remain here, for all that, with my people, and in trust, and have never regretted it. We have all found you to be a true and loyal friend, these past few months. Luke, here, agrees with me. We spoke of this only a few nights ago ... What's the matter? Did I say something to displease you?"

Unaccountably, his face had darkened into something resembling a perplexed scowl. Now he shook his head. "No, but I find that difficult to accept," he growled. "I mean. Your loyalty is all to the boy, and I killed his father. How can you trust me that much, knowing what I said to you when you first came here?"

"Why should I mistrust you? Here, I'll trust you even further, with this knowledge ... " I paused, watching his face as keenly as he watched mine. I had been keeping back a truth from Derek. I knew him, now, to be a just and honourable man, and until that moment I had been loath to tell him what I knew about his full role in Arthur's fate: how his passing lust had left the boy not merely fatherless, but motherless. Now, I believed, the time had come to tell him. Perhaps it would bind him further to us and the success of our mission.

"Not only did you kill the lad's father, you killed his mother, too."

He jerked back from me as though I had slapped him across the face, his eyes flaring wide with angry disbelief. I held up my hand to quell his response before it could reach his lips. "It's true, Derek!" He checked himself, then sat as though turned to stone, even the motion of his eyes suspended. I continued, keeping my voice level now. "The woman on the beach—the one you were ... employed with, when I arrived. Do you recall?"

"The red-haired one ... " He glanced sideways quickly; guiltily, to where Lucanus stood listening, as though expecting Luke to assail him next.

"Aye, the red-haired one," I confirmed quietly. "That was Ygraine of Cornwall, Lot's wife and Uther's mistress ... Arthur's mother."

Derek of Ravenglass seemed to shrink as though all the air in him had been released, and as he did, I saw credence growing in his eyes. But then he shook his head, a tiny gesture of bewilderment. "But ... I didn't kill her. She was alive! I threw her aside when you rode up, but she was unhurt"

I nodded, still speaking gently. "That's true, Derek, she was. But then you mounted your war horse, to meet me man to man, and in the mounting, your horse kicked her or trampled her, I know not which. She lay dying when I found her, her skull crushed. And the child, Arthur, was in the birney."

In the silence that followed, Lucanus moved to Derek's side and placed one hand on his shoulder. "That was an act of God, my friend ... the killing ... We both know that. No blame in it accrues to you. You took the woman as a prize of war, against her will—that's normal in such cases. You had no intent to kill her, did you?"

Derek shook his head, his eyes filled with confusion and a suggestion, at least to my eyes, of regret and even pain. "No," he murmured, his big voice now barely audible. "She was ripe and lush. I wanted her, but I had no thought of killing her ... And yet I killed the others. Some of them ... one of them. She fought me, to keep me from the red-haired one. She seized my dagger and came at me. I turned her wrist and thrust, and pulled her onto the point ... "

"Self-defence," Lucanus said. I was startled that he should condone such things, even obliquely, but I saw at once that he was being politic. "Ygraine, the red-haired woman, is the important one here. You had no thought of killing her, of bringing about her death in any way, had you?" Derek shook his head, and Luke went on.

"You had no knowledge of her death, did you, until here and now? You were unaware your horse had kicked or trampled her in your scramble to mount up when Cay, here, arrived to challenge you, thinking you to be Uther, am I correct?" Again, a wordless nod was Derek's sole response. "Good, then. No willful involvement in the young woman's death may be attributable to you. But there is more, so you had better let Cay tell it to you, and listen carefully."