Jack Whyte - The Eagles' Brood

"A week, two weeks, perhaps three."

"Why are her eyes covered?"

He reached forward and tucked an edge of the covering more securely into place before he answered me. "Protection. They are badly swollen. There is an unguent on the cloth."

"Why? Has her sight been damaged?"

"I don't think so, although I cannot be sure." He looked back at me. "But how are you, Merlyn? You look frayed."

"I'm well enough, Daffyd. I just need some sleep. I have not had much these past few nights."

"Has Uther returned?"

"No."

"And you have no idea where he might have gone?"

"None at all." Daffyd shook his head and continued spooning a broth of some kind into the girl's mouth. "What are you feeding her?" I asked him.

"Only the boiled juice of some herbs. She is too weak to take anything stronger. Perhaps tomorrow I will stew a rabbit and start her on broth." He paused in his feeding and turned to me. "You really believe Uther did this?"

I seated myself on the wooden chair beside the table. "I don't know, Daffyd. I don't know what to think. And the more I think about it the more confused I become." I looked at the girl and felt a surge of anger and resentment towards her. Her sudden intrusion into our lives had upset everything. She had appeared from nowhere, unannounced, and her mere presence had undone the pattern of my life. Because of this girl, my dearest friend had turned into a monster in my mind and the entire Colony had been thrown into upheaval. She had been aptly named Cassandra, the harbinger of doom. And then, as suddenly as it had come, the feeling passed and I was left looking at a tragic little girl who had had no control over the blows that fate had dealt her. From anger and revulsion my feelings changed directly to pity and concern. I realized that I was overtired. Suddenly the idea of lying down and closing my eyes was irresistible. "Daffyd," I said, "I have to sleep. This minute."

"I know that, my young friend. I was hoping you might realize it, too." He nodded towards an empty corner. "Lie down there."

I went to where Tumac lay and took one of the furs from his pile, but before I yielded completely to temptation, I spoke to Daffyd again. "How long can you stay with her, Daffyd?"

"As long as she needs my care. Why? Did you think I would leave her unattended?"

"No, but I thought you might be expecting me to stay with her, and I can't. I have to be back in Camulod early tomorrow. My father is expected and I don't want him to hear this from anyone's lips but my own."

"That is understandable. Sleep, and don't worry. The girl will be well cared for."

"Thank you, my friend." I spread my fur on the floor, lowered myself onto it and fell asleep before I had time to wrap it around me.

X

As I entered Camulod the following morning I met Titus crossing the main courtyard, looking tired and uncharacteristically irritable. He wasted no time in telling me that my father had returned from patrol just after dawn and had been looking for me, and there was a tone in his voice that fell just short of censure. I thanked him and made no comment on his unusual demeanour, having a shrewd idea of the reason for it. I stabled my horse and went looking for my father immediately, finding him, as I knew I would, working on some records in his day office. He glanced up at me as I entered and nodded towards a chair. I sat down and waited for him to finish what he was doing.

He finally finished a document, sealed it and took it to the door, where he gave it to the guard and told him to have it delivered to the Legate Titus.

"Titus?" I asked him. "Couldn't you just tell him what you want?"

He closed the door carefully before answering me. "Some things must be written.. .have to be, for the sake of order...and for future reference." Having said this, he crossed slowly back to his table and seated himself. "Now. Please, in as few words as possible...what in Hades has been going on here in my absence?" He was speaking very slowly, forcing himself to articulate his words clearly, fighting the tendency to slur forced upon him by his damaged throat.

"What have you heard?"

"Nothing I could believe. Rumours...murder and witchcraft. Titus was...unwontedly silent. Told me to my face I should wait for you. I have waited. I am waiting.''

I began at the beginning and told him the whole story of finding the girl in the first place and bringing her back to Camulod, and then of the assault and of her disappearance. I :did not lie to him. I merely made no mention of the scene in the games room or of the real abduction from the infirmary.

When I had finished he sat looking at me for a long time. "Fine," he said finally, rasping the word. "That's what the common soldier knows. Now...What really happened? Where is Uther? How did the girl vanish...from the infirmary? Why -" He stopped and cleared his throat, then continued very carefully. "Why all this concern...in the first place.. .over a mute foundling who gets herself into trouble? There's.. .There is more to this tale than you are.. .telling."

I sighed and began again, telling him this time what really happened and leaving out no detail. As I spoke, he got up, and began to pace the tiny room, gnawing on the inside of his lower lip. When I had finished my tale this time his comments and questions were terse and to the point.

"You have the girl in your valley?"

"Yes. It's the only safe place I know of."

"Safe from Uther, you mean."

"Yes."

"You're convinced he did this." It was not a question. I said nothing. "Why?" Again I said nothing. "Why are you so prepared to believe that Uther.. .your blood cousin...your best friend...whom you have known literally all your life, could do...these things you describe? I want an answer, Caius."

I shrugged helplessly. "What choice do I have, Father? I don't want to believe it, but all the evidence points to Uther. There isn't even another suspicious-looking person in the place!"

"Have you verified that?"

"What? That there are no other suspects? Of course I have, Father. Everyone who was on duty that night, everyone who was awake or astir or abroad at all has been questioned thoroughly and his story checked. There is no person other than Uther whose movements and activities cannot be accounted for."

"Where is Uther?"

"You tell me, Father. Where is he? Why has he disappeared now? Earlier or later would have been acceptable, but he left minutes after the girl and he has not been seen or heard from since."

"What is this girl to you?"

"To me?" I was surprised. "Nothing. Nothing at all. I have had no dealings with her, other than to have her removed from Lucanus's quarters that night."

"Is she pretty? Attractive?"

"What does that have to do with anything? Attractive? No, she is not attractive. She is plain, thin, unappealing. Singularly unattractive, as a matter of fact."

"You are angry with her. Why?"

"What?" I thought about it and realized that I was angry at the girl. "I don't know why I'm angry at her. It's not her fault, really. I resent her because if she hadn't been where she was, when she was—at any point—none of this would have happened."

"Perhaps, perhaps not." He was silent for a moment, and I wondered what he had meant by that. Then he crossed to the table he had been writing at and picked up a knife that lay there. He balanced it in his hand and then threw it hard at the closed door, where it stood thrumming in the solid wood. He went to it, pulled it out and examined the point, all the while evidently thinking deeply. Finally he turned back to me. "Here," he said, lobbing the knife to me, hilt first. "I brought this back for you. It's balanced for throwing... cleverly. One complete turnover every twenty paces, if you loft it correctly." He was silent as I examined the knife closely, and then he asked, "Have you ever heard of giving anyone the benefit of the doubt?"