Would he ever see the rise of such tower houses again? Surely it must take a long time for men to learn enough of the long-forgotten knowledge to erect their like. Even the ship came tomorrow, this year, it might be generations before that world would bloom again.
There could be only one hope left when it did, that would not be the quarrels of men, or of Sky People, which would tear it once more into nothingness. For how many chances would the Power grant to his kind? There must be a limit in the end to the rise and fall of civilizations, nations, mankind himself.
And when the Sky People came, what if they met sue as this Gildas? Could they work through or with such as he? Would they discover enough men ready to believe and to stretch out hands to the future? Or would fear and awe become terror, making ignorant men turn their backs on the offer of a new world?
Arthur—Merlin could understand now why he must win Arthur. Not because the King was a battle leader without equal in this time and land, but because he in himself was a symbol men would follow, listen to, learn from. Therefore, above all, Arthur must be prepared for the coming from the stars.
13.
In the end Merlin did not have to go to Arthur, for the King came to him. There was a scratching at his curtained door, an almost stealthy sound, as if the one who waited there came on some secret errand. He reached out to twitch the curtain aside and saw the High King, alone.
But this man was not that supremely confident Arthur of the feast hall. Years had touched him since that night when he bade Merlin drink to welcome Modred. There was a tic by his left eye, and he looked as if he had parted all company with sleep for days. Now he eyed Merlin narrowly, with a menace about him which the other could see as well as sense.
Arthur turned sharply again after he strode into the chamber, held up the curtain and gave a quick look right and left as if he would make sure there were no lurkers outside. When he spoke he had controlled his voice until it was only a whisper.
“They have told me tales of you, sorcerer. And those I did not believe. Perhaps it was because I was a fool and chose weakly to shut my ears, since it was by your doing “at I came to be High King. Aye, that tale have I also heard!” Hot anger glowed in his eyes, and the fingers which rested on the hilt of the Sky Sword curled and tightened there as if he would draw the blade forthwith.
“Now will I have the, full truth out of you even if I have to carve it from your living flesh! Aye, I am so driven now, sorcerer, that even that will I try!”
“The truth of what. Lord King?” Merlin, too, sank his voice. Mischief had been made, that was evident And he could guess who had so worked upon Arthur.
“Am I Uther’s true-born son?”
Merlin’s thoughts sped to a swift conclusion. He could guess the shameful story which Modred might use as a level against the King, against Merlin and against all the House of Pendragon.
“That is what he believed,” he said slowly.
“Then—“ the King’s face was white with strain— “then Morgause—and I—Modred—“ Suddenly a flicker of intelligence broke through. “ ‘So he believed,’” he repeated. “You choose odd words. Merlin. Can it be that his belief was not the truth? If so, who fathered me, for Goloris was dead a day before my mother lay with him she thought was her true lord.”
Arthur made a visible effort at control. “I have heard a strange tale. Merlin. A claim has been made on me which can cover my name with black shame, set me before men as one worse even than that traitor Vortigen who betrayed his people to the axes of the Saxons. But it was you who took me as a fosterling to Ector, and it is only you who can know the truth. If I am Uther’s son in truth, then I am foredoomed through my own lust to be one hunted out of the ranks of honest men. My honor is ruined and were I to give an order to the meanest kitchen slave he would spit at my feet. You say now that Uther believed I was his son. Give me the inner meaning of this. For I tell you I am near to drawing my own sword against my throat because of what has been told to me!”
Merlin pulled forward one of the stools. “It is a strange tale. Lord King, but it is the truth, and it goes back many years.”
Arthur eyed the stool as if he had no wish to linger there. But he did sit down as he burst forth: “Get on to the telling of it, and quickly! If it can lift this burden of wrongdoing even a little, then—Speak, man!”
“You know what they say of me, and with truth.” Merlin sat himself on the edge of the bed, still keeping his voice to a whisper. He was also alerting his inner sense to make sure no other was within range of his voice now. “I am the son of no man…”
Arthur shrugged impatiently. “I know they name you demon-bred. But what has that to do with—“
“Not demon-bred,” Merlin interrupted firmly, using his powers as he could to reach out to the King, make him listen. “My fathering was of the Sky People. Aye, there is truth in those old legends. The daughters of men once bore children to others who came from the stars above us. And from that mating arose a mighty race who fashioned such wonders as no man now can do more than dream of. But in the end there was a mighty war, one which did indeed rock the entire earth, so that land became sea and sea bottom land. Mountains rose, from plains and all was altered so that those few who survived were like madmen and remembered very little of what they had been. They sank lower than the beasts of the field and forest
“But those who had fathered them did not forget. And when that war which had carried them outward to the stars—for the Sky Lords had mighty enemies we knew not at all—was done, they remembered earth and longed for it again. Thus they loosed ships of the sky, and one such answered an ancient beacon set among our mountains. It carried the seed of the Sky Lords and my mother was the first to receive it into her womb—“
“You spin a wild tale,” Arthur interrupted.
“Look well at me, King, into my eyes,” Merlin commanded. “Do I spin you an idle tale or do I speak the truth?”
Arthur met his gaze squarely so that their eyes locked. After a moment the king said slowly: “Though this thing seems impossible, yet you believe it to be the truth.”
“A truth I am prepared to prove,” Merlin stated. “One of the duties which my birth laid on me was the fostering of a king strong enough to bring all Britain under his hand and keep peace. For the Sky Lords needed that peace when they could come again to us. Ambrosius was a great commander, but he could see peace only as the Romans had commanded and imposed it. Uther could deal with-the tribes, but he was of their nature, having their faults as well as their virtues. He was a man of lusty passions and, where those were involved, he knew no self-discipline.
“It chanced at his crowning that he saw the Duchess Igrene and wanted her. So open was his desire that her lord withdrew from court, thus gaining Uther’s displeasure. Goloris set his lady, as he thought, safe within his own sea-bound Keep, one which had never fallen to an enemy, so well girt and guarded was it.
“Then Uther sent for me and ordered me to use certain powers to gain him his desire. I told him that I could weave an illusion which would make him Goloris in seeming for a night that he might enjoy the Duchess’ bed. And I set upon him a dream that this was so, just as I entered the keep and bemused the Duchess with another dream. But what came to her was no man of ova world; she conceived by the will of the Sky Lords.
“Uther knew shame and the Duchess, learning that her lord had truly died before he had visited her, was bewildered of mind to the point that she listened to the talk of night demons. Thus both were eager to give you into my hands.