Divine Sacrifice, The Read Free

eyes) as the king himself, and Arthur knew that her shame in being exiled from the women’s community would always be with her. Though things were better, Merlin’s rumors of the
enchantress followed her still. I had been pressing Arthur to leave the past behind and marry her, but he refused yet, and it remained a sore point between us.

    In a more somber tone, Merlin added, “Be careful, Malgwyn. I worry that there is more to Lauhiir’s appointment than there would seem.”
    With Saxons knocking at our eastern door and encroaching on our southern lands, Ambrosius had bowed to the pressure from the
consilium
and named young Lord Lauhiir, the choice of Mark
and his faction, as protector of the Tor and Ynys-witrin. Many such lords peopled our land, ruling by brutality and greed. But Lauhiir’s father, Eliman, had been a lieutenant to Mark in years
gone by. In truth, I liked Lauhiir not, and argued with Arthur about his appointment. To my eye, he was slimy and spoiled, a man who wore fancy clothes to mark his station whereas Arthur wore his
station like clothes. But Lauhiir’s father had many friends on the
consilium,
and Arthur could not reverse Ambrosius’s decision. “Besides,” he told me one day,
“by having him close to hand at the Tor, I can better keep an eye on him.”
    I straightened my tunic beneath the belt as best I could with but one hand. “You think there is some evil in it?” I asked Merlin.
    “Evil is a vague thing. Do I think it bodes no good for Arthur? Yes. I think with Mordred away on our western border, Lauhiir poses the greatest threat to Arthur’s seat.
Mordred’s head should be gracing a post in the east.” Young Mordred was one of Arthur’s least favorite cousins. He was sly where Arthur was cunning. Though I had been unable to
prove his guilt in the plot against Ambrosius, he had been exiled to our western coast where he could do less harm.
    “You are a wise man, Merlin. You know that that could never happen. David, Lauhiir, and Mark would spark an instant rebellion. I did the best I could, but that wasn’t good enough to
tie the noose about Mordred’s head.”
    At the thought of David, a lord from the northwest, I stopped and frowned. He had challenged Arthur at the election, but lost, a loss he took not well. Aye, he had sought my punishment for
striking the boy lord Celyn in some sort of petulant reprisal for his rejection by the
consilium
. Mark was second only to Arthur in strength as a lord. He ruled his lands from Castellum
Marcus in the far southwest. Tristan, his son, was serving a kind of enforced servitude at Arthur’s castle for his hand in Eleonore’s death. He had come to Arthur’s castle for the
election of the new Rigotamos, representing his father. And, we quickly learned, to counsel a treaty with the Saxons, a treaty he indicated that Mark was intent on pursuing with or without the
consilium’
s approval.
    But once there, like many young men, he had fallen afoul of Eleonore’s charms and become possessed by the spirit of her beauty. But she rejected his bid and in the violence that ensued
lost her life. Although Tristan did not kill her, his actions left her vulnerable to those who did take her life. I had let him believe, however, that he bore the greater guilt.
    “But Ynys-witrin is great power to place in the hands of a newly made lord,” I continued. “I think that Lauhiir is not equal to it.” I did not tell him that I suspected
Lauhiir as complicit in the plot against Ambrosius, and that had been at the heart of the matter of Eleonore’s death.
    “I knew a great lord once,” Merlin began, crossing the room and settling slowly onto a stool. “It was long before Arthur was born. One day during the hot season, in the marshes
near the water, he was bitten by a small fly. Within days, that small fly had laid the great lord low.”
    “I take your meaning.” And I did, though I still believed that he gave Lauhiir more credit than he