Page 5 of Touched By Maen Llia
Marcus’ heart would not ease. How quickly this conversation had turned and bitten him! “Do you question every man who bears arms in Arthur’s name in this way?”
“Marcus…” Lucan murmured, his tone one of warning.
Merlin did not appear to be offended by the direct question. “I question anyone I do not understand. Andyouare a puzzle, Marcus Yorath. One which has not resolved itself yet, I suspect. So tell me why you wish to serve Arthur.”
“Everyone wants to serve Arthur.”
“It is you I ask, right now.” Merlin’s gaze seemed to reach into him, so that all Marcus could see were his black eyes. All he could hear was Merlin’s voice, low and coaxing. “Tell me why you put up with insult from me, why you ride at the back of the company where the dust is thicker than soup, why you left Corneus to serve a man you have never met before. Tell me.”
And before he knew that he would speak, the words tumbled from Marcus in a raw, hot stream. “I saw my father die upon the field before Mount Badon. I watched…somanyothers die, that day. It was the first battle I’d ever seen and the noise—I will hear it forever. Before that battle, my life was...all I can remember of my life before Badon was being afraid, of my mother’s terror and my father’s absence. And after Badon, it all changed.”
He stopped, breathless. But the memories rippled through his mind, like the fast glimmer of sunlight on water. His mother smiling. Harvests and feasts, leisure and laughter. Of running free, far beyond the tilled fields and not returning home until suppertime, something he had never been able to do before the Saxons had been defeated for the last, conclusive time.
“Everything changed after Badon,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And it changed because of Arthur. That is why I serve him. Because I would keep this peace for Britain in any way I can. Because to go back to the days before Badon…I could not bear it.”
Lucan cleared his throat.
Bedivere, Marcus realized, was smiling.
Merlin nodded. He wasn’t smiling, but there was the glint of lightness in his eyes. “You watched the battle from the fort?”
Marcus let out a shaky breath. “Yes, my lord. I had to stand upon a barrel to see beyond the walls, but I watched it all.”
Merlin’s black mood had shifted. He was smiling and he looked young, despite the grey and the wrinkles. “Now all which remains is for you to decide if you are Roman or Briton.”
“My name is just a name, as you said. There is no meaning.”
“Not yet, perhaps.” Merlin tugged on his gelding’s reins, halting it. “Stop. Listen. All of you.”
It was not a large company. Just twenty men to protect Merlin and do his bidding, and they came to a quick, easy stop. The sun was nearly in their eyes, sending their shadows across the long hill beside them.
Merlin tilted his head down, listening hard.
So did Marcus.
From the left, where their shadows stretched, the sound of high, light voices drifted over the top of the low hill. Laughter, too.
“Women,” Lucan said. “It’s late to be about, so gay and carefree.”
“We’re still a mile or more from Maridunum,” Bedivere added.
“The path from the palace to Maen Llia is a well worn one,” Merlin said, his tone complacent. “But it would be a kindness to ensure they return safely.” He stirred in his saddle. “Marcus, pick a man. The two of you will escort the women back to the palace.”
“I do not know the way there from here,” Marcus pointed out.
“The women will know,” Merlin replied.
“Do not question Prince Merlin,” Bedivere said stiffly.
“I do not, but…” Marcus began.But the order did not make any sort of sense.
Merlin tilted his head. “I have strange ways, did they not tell you?” And the mischief was back in his eyes.
Marcus gave up. “Aye, they mentioned it. More than once.”
Merlin smiled. “Then do as I wish. ‘tis harmless enough, to escort a dozen maidens with damp feet, is it not?”
Marcus looked at him, startled.
