Page 39 of The Quest for Excalibur
Arthur patted Taran’s gleaming bay shoulder. “I’ll expect to see them molded into obedient warriors by this time next year then.”
A badly disguised snort of obvious derision shot out of Merlin.
Arthur threw him a quizzical look. “Why not? They’re big strong lads.”
“It’s the ‘obedient’ I was quibbling,” Merlin said. “Don’t forget, I’ve taught them. Medraut has a way about him of a boy who intends to give the orders, not follow them.”
Too true.
Arthur shrugged. “We’ll see. A year or two here should knock them into shape. Even Medraut, I hope.” He turned back to Morfran. “No special treatment for my nephew.”
Morfran nodded. “I’ll see he toes the line.”
Good luck to him on that one.
*
We reached DinCadan late in the afternoon after a long journey home via the foothills of the Mendips. Tired and grubby, I rode up the dusty road to the gates beside Arthur, happy to be home again.
We’d scarcely had time to dismount by the stables before Archfedd came trotting down to greet us, her brow furrowed and her lower lip wobbling in dejection. I handed Alezan’s reins to a servant, and bent down to her level. “What’s wrong?”
She threw herself into my arms with all the dramatic flair of a hammy stage actress. “Amhar’s gone to live in the barracks,” she wailed, tears now streaming down her face. “He said I was just a baby, and he wasn’t going to live with a baby anymore.”
I wrapped my arms around her, meeting Arthur’s gaze over the top of her head.
“We’ll see about that,” he muttered, and turned to Llacheu who was just dismounting. “Can you go and tell your brother I want to see him in the Hall? Now.”
Llacheu shot me a worried glance before hurrying off toward the barracks houses where the older boys slept and often ate. No doubt there’d been four spaces come up free thanks to Medraut and his friends’ departure. Anger that Amhar had done this behind our backs– behind my back– flared, and I hugged Archfedd all the tighter.
Arthur passed his horse’s reins to another servant. “Give her to me.” He held out his arms. I disentangled Archfedd from my hold, and Arthur picked her up, holding her on his hip, even though she’d grown a bit too big for that lately. “Come on. We’ll go up to the Hall and wait for your brother to arrive. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say about this.”
Cei, waiting solemn faced outside the hall doors, followed us inside without a word.
Arthur set Archfedd down on one of the tables and turned to his brother. “What’s been going on in my absence?”
Cei folded his arms across his chest in classic defensive pose. “Nothing.”
I sat down on the table beside Archfedd with my arm around her shoulders. She wiped her teary eyes on her sleeve and snorted to clear her nose.
“So, what,” Arthur said, enunciating his words with precision, “is my daughter crying about?”
Cei sighed, but I could sense his awkwardness. “I suppose it’s my fault,” he said, after a moment. “When he asked me, I said Amhar could move into one of the empty beds in the boys’ barracks house. He was upset he hadn’t been allowed to go with you to Dinas Brent. I thought it would do him good. Bolster his confidence.”
My son? Sleeping in the barracks with the rough boys who’d been bullying him? Well, maybe not all of them, as the worst ones had probably gone with Medraut. But in all likelihood, those that remained would be nearly as bad, and glad to take over the roles vacated by Medraut and his cronies. A horrible vision of Amhar being battered daily by older, bigger boys rose before my eyes. I held Archfedd closer to me, glad she wasn’t another boy.
Arthur pursed his lips and drew a deep breath. “Why does his confidence need bolstering, pray?”
Cei glanced at me, clearly uneasy, his gaze sliding down to rest on Archfedd’s tear-stained face. I took the hint and jumped down off the table, pulling Archfedd with me. “Come along. We’ll go and find Maia and see if she has some honey cakes for you.” I took her slightly sweaty hand in mine and gave her a pull.
She sniffed long and loud, threw Cei an angry glare, but let me lead her to the door into our chamber. As luck would have it, Maia was in there tidying.
I thrust Archfedd at her. “Honey cakes and a cuddle, please.”
Without waiting for an answer, I slipped back through the door into the Hall. I wanted to be privy to this conversation. Arthur and Cei had moved to the dais where the high table stood, and Merlin had sidled into the hall and taken up his customary place in the shadows, watching.
“Well?” Arthur said, his voice icily cold. “I’m waiting.”
I’d never seen Cei so reluctant. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, one hand fidgeting with the opposite sleeve. Whatever it was, he clearly didn’t want to put it into words.
