Page 3 of The Road to Avalon
“Milord.” The man bowed again and hurried off on his mission as other servants brought more food to the table.
Karstyn arrived a few minutes later, red in the face and puffing slightly. “He were in the kitchen earlier,” she said, having made a hasty bow to all of us. “He said as he were hungry after his long journey. One o’ the girls, she found him some bread and meat and a beaker o’ fine cider.” She paused, a frown wrinkling her brow. “I din’t think to ask him if he were goin’ back to his room.” She smoothed her skirts down with floury hands, her face clouded with concern.
Cei snorted. “He’ll have gone out on the town already,” he said, voicing my own suspicions. “I don’t know why you’re worrying, Arthur. He’s a young man, and young men need to sow their oats. He’s barely had the chance at Din Cadan. I wouldn’t worry. He’ll be back when he’s exhausted. Or drunk.” He paused. “Or both.”
Arthur huffed. “It’s not where he’s gone that bothers me,” he said, a little stiffly. “It’s the fact that he doesn’t have the manners to beg leave of his mother and me and has left us wondering where he’s got to.”
Did he have the same uneasy feelings about this city as I did? Enough bad things had happened here for us to have the right to be wary. And Amhar, however he saw himself, was an innocent abroad. There’d be women who might give him diseases, cutpurses out to rob him, and new friends who’d have no care that he was heir to a kingdom. Or maybe if he told them who he was, they’d wish him harm just for being his father’s son. No doubt that spiteful witch, his Aunt Morgana, had people on the streets who’d let her know our son was out and about on his own. I knew all too well what tricks she might get up to.
Arthur heaved a sigh. “Thank you, Karstyn. Should he appear in the kitchen again tonight, could you send a message, please. Meanwhile, we’ll enjoy this perfect meal you’ve prepared.”
Karstyn departed, and the meal went on, but for me the food remained tasteless and unappetizing as I brooded on the feeling of disquiet that had settled over me. Something was waiting to happen, but I didn’t know what.
Even then, I might have been able to prevent it if I’d had the wit.
Chapter Two
Ididn’t seeAmhar return. After the meal and a cheerful song from Gwalchmei, and with darkness already descended, we all wove our way back to our various rooms.
Arthur closed the door behind us with a bang that set the oil lamps flickering, and stomped over to the bed. “Little shit,” he said, not beating about the bush. “Who does he think he is? This is our first night here, and he’s buggered off somewhere on his own.”
I kicked off my sandals and undid the wide leather belt that cinched my waist. “He’s just being young.” If only I’d known then what Amhar’s “being young” would lead to. I laid my belt on the table, unlike Arthur, who’d just tossed his onto the floor. Too many years of people picking up after him.
He pulled his tunic over his head and that joined his belt, and his boots skidded across the mosaic floor as they came off. “It’s not the going out and enjoying himself I object to.” He pulled off his undershirt, the lamplight flickering over his well-muscled chest. “It’s the not having the good manners to tell us what he’s doing. On our first night here.” He shook his head as he stood up and unfastened his braccae. “He can go out every night he’s here for all I care, so long as he tells us.”
He sounded just like any father from my old world, demanding of his teenager to let him know where they were going. Things never change.
Naked, he strode across to the table and began brushing his teeth with angry vigor over the bowl of water a servant had left. “I thought we’d brought him up to show respect,” he spluttered and spat the residue into the slops bucket beside the table. Straightening, he eyed me up and down. “Are you taking that dress off, or do I have to do it for you?”
I scowled at him. “That’s not the most romantic proposition I’ve ever had,” I said, picking up my own toothbrush. “Talking to a girl like that could get a man a thick ear.”
He sat down on the bed and watched in silence as I brushed my teeth and washed my face. Still with my back to him, I slid my sleeveless gown, which was secured by clasps, slowly off my shoulders to let it pool at my feet, revealing my lack of underwear.
He whistled.
I refrained from telling him that nice girls don’t like wolf whistles. Instead, I turned around and met his gaze, which could best be described as smoldering. With a smile, I moved closer, and he got to his feet.
I glanced down. “I see you’re anticipating something.”
He caught me around the waist and pulled me to him, our bodies pressed together. “And it’s not a thick ear.”
I chuckled. “I could still give you one if you like…”
For answer, he bent his head, his hungry mouth finding mine.
I buried my hands in his thick hair and my body melted into his. How easy it was to forget everything when in his arms, with his mouth on mine, his body pressed against me.
His hands left trails of fire across my skin. Nineteen years of married life hadn’t dimmed any part of our attraction for one another, and now my body ached for his with a desperation that had to be sated.
He pushed me down onto the bed, and, laughing, I pulled him with me. Amhar was, unwisely, completely forgotten.
*
I awoke wellafter first light to find Arthur’s side of the bed empty.
I lay for a few moments in the strange bedroom that had once been Euddolen’s and Ummidia’s, with the sunlight dancing with dust motes as it poured in through the high, unshuttered windows and spot lit the faded mosaic of Orpheus that decorated the floor. An unwelcome image of those two, long-dead people and their tragic teenage daughters pushed its way into my head. To banish them, I shoved the covers back and scrambled out of bed with a little too much haste.
With no sign of a maid, I dressed myself in a plain, calf-length blue tunic, cinched the waist with my favorite belt and headed into our outer chamber.
