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Merlin’s Mirror by Andre Norton

“Give this woman a name,” ordered Merlin. “Or as you have spouted forth lies, so shall it be that (he truth will be ever closed to you. Henceforth all men will know you to be a liar, and none will listen to you again. For there comes a time of judging when one answers to his own Power. And if you were true bard you would also know—“

There was red hate burning in the man’s eyes as he stared back up at Merlin. But accompanying that hate was fear, and the fear was growing stronger.

“It is the Lady Morgause who has told this thing,” he said thickly, “and how better would anyone know the truth than she?”

Morgause—the girl Merlin had seen imprisoned in Nimue’s keep? Was this the reason Nimue had kept her on hand and ready for all these years? Merlin could hear a shocked murmur of those behind him on the wall.

“You saw the Lady Morgause.” Merlin forced his calm to hold. “And you say how better could anyone know than she. How—“

Arthur’s voice cut across his own. “Let it be. Merlin. The High King does not fight with women.”

Now the grimace of the bard below turned into a snarling grin. “Speak fair. Lord King. Cling to that shadow of honor you have never wholly had since even before the day of your crowning. Let this demon’s son strike me speechless. There have been ears enough for the hearing. Men remember evil quicker than good; it is the way of the world. Even if you could by some miracle prove yourself innocent of this act, more will listen to the accusation than to any words which absolve you. Listen well! Lord Modred sets dishonor upon you. He marches now to bring justice into this land. If you would meet him, then let the Power itself decide what is right and what is wrong.”

“Good enoughl” Merlin heard Cei’s instant answer to that. “Lord King, each lord who listens seriously to this foul lie is a traitor. And with traitors there is only one way of dealing. Let them speedily face the sword edges of honest men!”

A small cheer followed his speech, but Arthur’s rrown came swiftly. However it was to the bard he spoke, not Cei.

“Bard, you have delivered your message. Now go.”

“And what return do you make to Lord Modred, High King?” The man accented the title tautingly.

“That I do not propose to wrench Britain apart to suit his will,” Arthur replied somberly.

“You have no choice,” the bard returned, “unless you creep away in full dishonor before the faces of all men. Remember that!”

Then he rose from his knees, favored Merlin with a last glare and strode away, his back turned without courtesy upon the King. Cei grunted.

“A spear between that one’s shoulders now,” he said wistfully, “that should be his full payment. But he is right, foster brother. You fight or else you leave full power open to Modred, And how do you think he will use that right to rule? He is a nithling. The great lords will break apart, for he will find few to do him homage. Lord will quarrel with lord, each reaching a hand for the crown. What comes of that? A riven land will open as easy meat for the Saxons. So it was at the death of Uther. Lord King, you have no choice. You ram these foul lies back down the throat of that nithling, using your sword hilt to do so, or else you stand without honor before all who have followed you through these years.”

Arthur’s set expression did not change, but his eyes turned from the retreating bard to Cei and then to Merlin. “Attend me,” he curtly bade them both, and strode along ‘the rampart, men falling back to give him passage.

But too many faces in that company were sober, too many eyes rested on the High King questioningly. Cei’s summing up of the situation was very apt. Arthur would be damned before all men if he did not fight, and a war between lord and lord in Britain would come either way. Everything he had wrought would break apart like a fruit rotted at the core.

And Merlin, as he obeyed the King’s summons, thought of the beacon. How long, how far? To those questions he had no answers. Perhaps what he had set in motion would draw their off-world kin into utter chaos. Yet he could not see what he might have done differently at the time.

With Cei he entered the King’s chamber close on Arthur’s heels. The King strode back and forth across the room, his hands clasped behind his back, his chin sunk upon his chest. There was pain in his face, such pain as no physical wound would have raised.

“Brothers,” he said, “you alone know the troth which lies behind my heritage. Aye,” he spoke now to Merlin, “I have shared the truth with Cei for he is also of the Old Blood in part. But there is this: will any man, either those out there who heard that down-chant, or those who have apparently flocked to Modred, believe it?”

Cei spoke first. “If they did, brother, they would find it an evil truth and look upon you with even greater hatred. Few men will accept that there may be a race somewhere, either on this earth or off it, who are greater in gifts and talents than themselves. The priests teach that there was a Christus who was so, but he is dead. And so, being dead, men can now accept him. Yet in his time men hated and reviled him for that difference, and conspired to send him to the most shameful punishment they knew, one reserved for slaves and traitors. Men bow to gods, but if those gods appeared they would fear and hate them.

“It is the nature of man to wish to drag down to his own level all who have climbed above. You are the greatest king Britain has seen, even greater than Maximus, for you have not deserted your duty in pursuit of ambition. Had you not been given the crown, still you would have struggled to serve. Men know this and it does not make them revere you the more. Do you think that Lot, who was in position to claim the throne, loves you now? Nor may the Duke of Cornwall, nor any of those others who might aspire to your crown.

“Aye, they shall use this old scandal against you. But this was an act of a lusty youth and it can be made plain that the Lady Morgause was unknown to you as being close kin. Besides, she was one who had warmed other beds and it can be hinted that Modred was none of your true get—“

“No!” Arthur interrupted. “We do not befoul a woman’s name to answer this threat. She perhaps was— is—all that you say. But I will not hold her up meanly before all and cry The woman deceived and tempted me!’ Such action is not for any king.”

Cei nodded. “So would you decide, brother. But such fairness will not work for you either. Men will accept forbearance as an open admission of guilt. However, to tell the truth is even worse. We shall have ‘demon-born’ hurled in our ears until that cry will deafen and turn from us even the most strong-hearted of those who would otherwise support you.”

“He is right,” Merlin said quietly. “This is a time when either choice will make strong enemies. The web has been well woven; the snare is around us.”

“You are sure this is of Nimue’s doing?” Merlin answered the King forthrightly: “As sure as if I had heard her order Morgause to teach the bard his lines. She is taking her revenge now. But there is this, Arthur, I am also certain that she can no longer speak with her guiding voice, therefore what she may do is of her own thinking. And the beacon cannot now be overset—“

“This beacon—“ Cei rounded on him. “You promise it will bring the Sky Lords. In what numbers will they come, and when? Will they raise weapons to aid our King, or stand aside and let man struggle against man, perhaps then making some treaty with the victor?”

“I have answers to none of those questions,” Merlin returned. “Time to the Sky Lords does not pass as our days or years. They live much longer than we do. It may be that years will pass before their ships drop from our sky.”

Cei shook his head. “Then it is best to forget them in any plans we make. But Modred must be handled, and speedily. As yet his force will be small, but men will ride to him. And do not forget, he also has the Queen. Her very presence in his camp will argue that she believes this shameful tale and so has withdrawn from you, Arthur.”

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