Ides of the May (Children of the May 2 - updates weekly)

Chapter Eight: A Council of Two (part two)

He was sitting in near-darkness, the table before him strewn with papers and maps. It reminded me of the first time I’d seen him, in the darkness of King Arthur’s death ship, lit only by a single candle. In body, Mordred was as he had been. His unruly dark hair still curled around his head, his arms were strong, his form remained slender. He was dressed in dark colours that melted into the shadows. It was only when his face caught the light that I saw the difference in him. There was a strain in handsome jaw and around his black eyes that gave him more years than the eighteen properly belonging to him.

Mordred blinked, as if his eyes were hurt by the weak light of the rainy day. He smiled weakly. ‘Drift,’ he said quietly. ‘You came back.’ He stood. Like all the other boys he was two or three inches taller than when I had last seen him. He came around the table towards me. I wasn’t sure if I would accept his embrace if he offered it to me, not until we had settled the matter of what happened on his last night on Avalon.

‘Of course I came back,’ I said, then worried that I sounded spiteful. I looked for a way to mend the hurt my words might have done him. Before I knew what I was doing I was looking him full in the face. ‘You’re my general, and my friend,’ I said. ‘You call, and I come.’ I was shocked by the words that came out of my mouth. I hadn’t planned on saying anything of the kind, and no such thoughts had entered my head during the long lonely months on Avalon. But now that I was in his presence I remembered all he had done for me, for all of us. It wasn’t that my bitterness over what he had done simply disappeared – it was still lurking under the surface, and we would have to confront it – but I felt more fondly towards him now we were together. He stood awkwardly in front of me, and in the end it was me who offered him my embrace, which he accepted gladly.

‘You look well,’ he said, when I released him.

‘This isn’t me,’ I said, immediately feeling the tension within me ease as I told him the truth. ‘I learned to cast a glamour on the island, and a spell to hide my stutter. Underneath I’m the same hunchbacked idiot I always was.’

He nodded. I didn’t see any judgment in his eyes, he simply accepted what I said as fact.

‘Can we go for a walk?’ he said, going to the door. ‘It looks like the rain’s easing, and I’ve been in here on my own too long.’

‘Before we go, you should know that Palomina and I brought a prisoner back with us. We took Sir Dinadan at the tower on the loch.’

He smiled, and clapped me on the shoulder. ‘Bloody hell, well done, mate. That’s excellent news.’

‘Do you want to question him first?’

He stepped past me through the door, and looked up the cut. I glimpsed Epicene and Norma on the higher path, going in the direction Piers had taken Sir Dinadan. ‘No, that’s fine,’ he said. ‘Epicene has it under control.’

‘You what?’ I said. ‘You’re going to let her burn him?’

He shook his head. ‘Drift, don’t worry about Dinadan – I know you have reservations about the use of your magic – that’s your choice and I respect it – but others don’t necessarily share your feelings. If it’s any consolation, Dinadan won’t be harmed. But even if he were to be: this is war, mate, and we’re badly outnumbered.’

He started to walk towards the complex rock system that rose steeply from the bottom of the path, but I didn’t move. ‘Torture is wrong, Mordred. There’s no excuse for it.’ I ran back up the path, determined to stop Epicene before she hurt the fat knight.

‘Hey,’ called Mordred, chasing me. Before I reached the other path he grabbed my arm and spun me round. ‘I promise you: there’ll be no torture.’ I looked defiantly into his black eyes, and tried to tear my arm from his strong grip. ‘Trust me, Drift. Just like you’ve been honest with me, I’m being honest with you.’