Page 41 of The Quest for Excalibur
I itched to speak, to guide them, but this was something Arthur needed to do alone. In another world,myworld, it would have been for both parents to sort out, but here in the Dark Ages, I had to let Arthur take the lead. And it was his own mess needing to be sorted.
Arthur’s gaze never wavered from our son’s determined face. “Your sister misses you.”
Amhar nodded again. “I know. I’m sorry, but I’m nearly a man now, and it was time to join the other boys.” His voice trembled, and I saw him dig his nails into the palms of his hands.
Bloody tell him you love him and want him to come home.
Arthur heaved in a deep breath. “Very well.”
Amhar’s eyes slid sideways to meet mine, sparkling with unshed tears. Whatever he’d been hoping for, this wasn’t it.
I couldn’t stand by and watch any longer. “Come home, Amhar,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm. “You’re too young to be with the other boys yet. I want you here in the Hall with us, where you belong.”
He pulled his arm away. “I’m not a baby anymore, Mother.” The tears brimmed over and ran down his cheeks, giving the lie to that statement. He brushed them away with a hasty hand. No boy on the brink of warriorhood can afford to cry. “I’m as good as the other boys. As Med—”
“You’re not as old as Medraut,” Arthur cut in, too late. “Your mother’s right. If she wants you here, then you must do as she says.”
Merlin made to lift his hand, then let it drop, as if resigned to what was about to unfold.
Eyes flashing, Amhar rounded on his father. “I said I’m not a baby, Father. I don’t want to be treated like one. I want to be treated like the other boys.” He hesitated, gulping in air. “Like Medraut.”
Llacheu took a step forward, opened his mouth, then shut it like a trap as he met my gaze. I shook my head at him.
Arthur floundered. “What’re you talking about? We treat all you boys the same.”
Their shadows leapt up the walls, grotesque and distorted.
“No, you don’t,” Amhar threw back at him, the tears staining his cheeks unheeded now. “You treat Medraut better than any of them. Better than me. You treat him like a prince. AndI’mthe prince, not him. He gets sent off to a posting like a proper warrior, and I don’t. They alllaughedat me. Medraut and the other boys say it’s because I’m not—”
His voice broke off, his mouth a round O of horror, eyes wide with fear at what he’d said. What he’dalmostsaid.
Merlin took a step forward, but Arthur held up a restraining hand.
As the silence lengthened, Arthur seemed to grow taller, more forbidding. “Not what?” His voice echoed around the empty hall, and his shadow loomed, threatening, over all of us.
Chapter Twenty
Standing facing hisfather, a small, slight figure overshadowed by a giant, Amhar floundered.
His mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, he took a step back and stumbled, landing on his backside in the rushes close to Merlin.
After a pause, Merlin held out a hand. “The other boys talk rubbish because they’re jealous. Ignore them. Now go and wipe your eyes and blow your nose so you can return to your barracks with some dignity.”
The silent seconds ticked past before Amhar took the offered hand and let Merlin yank him to his feet.
“Go,” Arthur said, glowering down at him.
Amhar fled.
Behind him, the torches seemed to have dimmed and the hall to have grown darker still.
As soon as the door banged shut behind Amhar, Arthur turned to Llacheu, his face dark with fury. “What is it the other boys say to him?”
Llacheu’s eyes moved shiftily from my face to Merlin’s and back again. He plainly knew exactly what the boys were saying, but didn’t want to tell us.
“Tell me,” Arthur said, the menace in his voice like a blow.
“It’s just stupid boys joking together,” Llacheu said, making a valiant effort to dispel the tension still zinging around the Hall.
