Page 33 of The Quest for Excalibur
Chapter Sixteen
That night inour chamber, I put Merlin’s suggestion to Arthur. He was a little drunk from having imbibed too much wine at dinner, and intent on getting me out of my gown, something he was very bad at when tipsy due to all the laces that needed undoing. Especially when he was in a hurry. But experience told me this would be a good time to get my own way.
“I’ve been thinking about Medraut,” I began, as he fumbled about behind me, swearing under his breath.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said. “All evening.”
Like I hadn’t noticed. I smiled to myself, a warm tingle percolating down through my body to settle in my groin. “He’s bored kicking about the fortress with the other boys. He’s head and shoulders above them intellectually. We should give him some responsibility.” I’d have said fast-track him, but that would probably have been a phrase Arthur wouldn’t have understood.
My dress loosened as he got the laces partially undone. “Damn it,” he muttered.
Determined not to be side-tracked, tempting as his ardor was, I persevered. He was so busy at the moment, that last thing at night like this was the only time I had him to myself, and I wanted him as much as he wanted me. But a spot of manipulation had to come first. “We could send him to one of the smaller forts. To learn from the warriors stationed there. It would do him good to be away from where he’s spent his childhood.”
The laces finally surrendered, and Arthur’s hands slipped inside my dress, hot on my skin. A shiver of excitement ran through me at his touch. As it always did. The temptation to give in to desire and discuss Medraut another time grew ever greater.
“Merlin says he’s ready for it,” I persisted, turning round in his arms to face him and resting my hands on his shoulders. He was at his most beguiling, hair tousled, eyes brimming with desire, his handsome face inches from my own.
He bent his head and kissed my neck, his hot, demanding mouth sending more shivers coursing through me. I couldn’t help myself where he was concerned. Even after twelve years, his touch still kindled a flame inside me, making me weak at the knees and putty in his hands. He had more than his fair share of the Pendragon charm, whatever that was. Magic perhaps, allure for certain. In my old world it would have been called sex appeal.
He slid my gown off my shoulders, and his kisses ran down my throat toward my breasts. Then lower. Weak at the knees, and decidedly weak of will as his tongue teased me, I abandoned trying to have a sensible discussion, and gave in.
Some time later I lay naked in his arms, sweat cooling on my body and my cheek against his chest, the hairs tickling my nose. The steady beating of his heart sounded in my ear, as his chest rose and fell with a gentle, reassuring rhythm. Life. How often when we lay like this did I rejoice that he still lived? The burden of having his death to think of weighed me down so much sometimes that I almost forgot the joy of living. Maybe that was why I found so much enjoyment in sex with him– that eternal affirmation of life. Which brought me back to the question of his nephew.
I twisted a little so I could look into his face. “We haven’t resolved the problem of Medraut yet.” I gave him a little poke with a finger. “You distracted me before we could reach a decision.”
He opened his eyes and yawned. “Do we have to right now? I was almost asleep.”
This time, with nothing to distract me, I wasn’t going to give up. “Yes, we do. I think he needs to be away from here. Somewhere fresh and new. But not with his mother.”
I had no qualms about sending a twelve-year-old to live with a bunch of strange warriors. I’d got over that when we’d done something similar to Gildas– only we’d sent him to a bunch of monks. As luck would have it, a move that had turned out well for him. Pity the monk who tried to crossthatyoung man.
Arthur yawned again. “All right. I’ll listen. But don’t blame me if I nod off.”
I pinched him. “You’re not allowed to.”
“Ouch. Get on with it then.”
I licked my lips. “Merlin and I have noticed he’s outstripped his peers. Merlin thinks he needs to be somewhere else for a year or two.” I’d already decided to lay everything at Merlin’s door. “To learn from people other than us. Perhaps to find out life isn’t always easy.” I played with the hairs on Arthur’s chest. “He needs a bit of adversity in his life. He’s so big and clever that everything here’s too easy for him. And no one will ever cross him because he’s your nephew. He needs to be somewhere his blood doesn’t count. Where he’s treated as just one of the men.”
Arthur shifted a little, the arm around me tightening. “If that’s what you and Merlin think. He’s certainly a big lad– more than ready to fight. I’ve taught the boys he’s with, and he’s by far the best with a sword. Gifted, you might say. An instinctive fighter.” He chuckled. “He fights like me.”
Ominous words. I pushed them to the back of my mind in haste. It didn’t do to dwell on something like that. Or I’d be out there pouring poison in a cup for the boy.
I’d watched Medraut fighting as well. Made it my priority, in fact. He certainly was a good swordsman for a boy his age. Better than Amhar, that was for sure. If ever there was a boy more suited to the life of a scholar, it was Amhar. But no one was going to suggest that to him. He was his father’s heir. Destined to be king one day. But Archfedd had more kingliness in her little finger than my son had in his entire body. I held my tongue on that subject.
“Where could we send him?” I asked, still playing with the hairs on his chest.
He sighed. “I don’t know. Do we have to decide that now?”
As far away as possible.
Satisfaction settling over me, I snuggled closer. “No. We can do that in the morning.”
“Good.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now let me go to sleep.”
*
Medraut took thenews of his posting to some faraway, as-yet unnamed fortress with surprising equanimity.
