yet … come of your deed.”
“I’m sorry, sir!” Garth stammered. And he wanted tears to flow to show his remorse, but his stomach hurt too intensely. “It’s all my fault.”
“Not so,” the bard said. “Uther’s battle chief, … Vortigern, bears the true blame, for I think he has betrayed his king into the hands of the … druidow. Now Arthur is found, and I must gather those who will try to save the child.”
“Uther’s own men betrayed him?”
“Not all, no, but they are led by … Vortigern and will be deceived.”
“A traitor!” The image of Uther lying dead in the boat came back to him, igniting his anger. “Where’re the king’s warriors? I heard lots o’ horses up on the Tor. Could the horses be theirs?”
“Doubtless it is true. They were told to take the … fortress, so perhaps they are there now. We must be very … careful.”
A woman opened the back door and dashed over to Colvarth. She fell at his feet, panting and weeping. At first Garth thought it was Natalenya, but he soon saw this woman was older, more careworn.
Colvarth took a cloth from a bag at his belt and handed it to the weeping woman. “Trevenna, wife of Tregeagle! A night … of tears, is it not?”
“King’s … bard … I … saw my husband … running … Came as quickly … to find help … Took the high path over the mountain … Troslam saw me…. Help.”
“Slow down, my … daughter.”
“I am told … the High King … is slain by Vortigern!”
Colvarth grimaced and closed his eyes. “It is as I feared.”
“Owain, Merlin, and Dybris have … taken the Stone to destroy it … And now my husband … all the warriors … they and the druidow are in pursuit!”
Colvarth stared unblinking. “Uther’s … warriors? Preventing the Stone’s … destruction? Now I see, yes, the false source of … Vortigern’s betrayal. It is as Merlin feared.”
What’s Merlin gotten himself into? What’ve I gotten into?
Trevenna wept again. “Colvarth, anyone —”
But her words were cut short as shouts echoed from the village below.
Garth sat up straight. “What’s that noise?”
“I hear … nothing,” Colvarth said, cocking his head to the side.
Garth ran to a granite boulder lying next to the wall, and hoisting himself up, he gazed down the mountainside. There, far to the east, was a wagon being pulled down the road by a large horse. The wagon box blazed out orange flames, and in the center sat a dark object with a deep-blue glow that pierced the night.
“The Stone!” he shouted. “They’ve got it, an’ they’re takin’ it away in a wagon.”
As Garth looked at the Stone, even at such a distance it seemed to grow and fill his vision. Closing his eyes, he turned his head away. “The nasty thing’s callin’ me, but I’m not listenin’ anymore!”
Trevenna and Colvarth joined him next to the wall.
Merlin’s there, Garth thought. The memory flooded back of the great debt he owed Merlin for taking his whipping. He heard again the ripping of Merlin’s shirt and remembered the bloody gashes striping his friend’s back. His friend’s back. His friend.
And Garth now saw what he’d missed before. Scores of men running after the wagon, some bearing torches.
“They’re bein’ chased, just like you said, ma’am!”
The door creaked open behind them, and Kyallna hobbled out with a tray holding three ceramic mugs of steaming soup. Taking one, she held it out to Garth. “Here, love, to fill yer empty stomach.”
Garth snapped up the mug. Holding it close, he sucked in the aroma of wild garlic and goat, letting it dive deep into his lungs.
He sighed, and his mouth began to water.
He lifted the wooden spoon to his lips — but let it splash down again.
“It’s not right!”
“But you haven’t tasted it, love.” Kyallna’s puckered face looked up at him.
“Not the soup, ma’am. I mean it’s not right for me to eat while my friend Merlin and the others are in danger.”
The wagon was gone from his sight now, but the entire road, far below, was filled with the shouting men, both druidow and Vortigern’s warriors.
Carefully handing the soup back to Kyallna, he licked his dry lips. “I’ve got somethin’ to do!” He jumped down from the rock and ran back into the house. There at the hearth fire, he snatched three burning branches, ran out the front door past the startled weaver, and disappeared into the night.
“Dybris, do you see the bar for the doors?” Merlin yelled.
But the monk was helping