come on!”
This time he followed. She moved in her own light. Then he realized they were in a tunnel. It seemed made of black rock with letters set into the stone. The letters glowed gold, sunlight gold, metallic gold, the soft textured gold of flowers. Some were green, now grass green, verdant green, emerald, the cloudy shadow of the gemstone, orange, scarlet, purple, amethyst-red fire and roses. After a time, he ran out of comparisons for all the colors he saw.
The passage wasn’t filled with water, either. He could surface and take a breath if he wanted to. The first time he did, he found himself floating in a tranquil river under a clear, star-filled sky. In the distance, he could see the firefly lights of a city or a large town.
She surfaced next to him. “Don’t do that,” she said.
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“That tunnel is—” She broke off. “How the hell do I explain? You know what you are?”
They were both up to their necks in the river, dog-paddling, and the water was cold. At least, to him it was.
“No! What?” he snapped back.
“A damn primitive savage!” she yelled.
“A what?” he shouted, outraged. “Hey, lady, you invited me along—”
That was as far as he got. She dove, grabbed his legs, and pulled him down. He went under with a yell of fury that nearly drowned him, because his mouth was still open when he went under.
He tore free of her arms, kicked out to keep her off, and found himself bobbing up like a cork. When he next surfaced, he found himself in yet another place. It was broad daylight, and he was in a high-sided canyon of red stone. The river was high, and the current a millrace. The water was being beaten to a froth of white by the action of the current pounding rocks that seemed to sprout like fangs from the riverbed. His body slammed into one hard on his left side, and his left arm went limp.
The water was cold and very clear. He saw the bone leap through the skin as his upper arm broke.
Then she was beside him. “You goddamn stubborn fool! You unlimited asshole! You . . .”
A tall, thin spire of rock appeared just ahead. She threw her arm around him, pulling him to her breast. The pain hadn’t hit yet, but Black Leg knew it would in a second and the arterial blood, red from his arm, was a long streamer in the roaring water.
A second later, her other arm was around the pylon of rock that lifted from the water. He was facing her and saw her eyes dilate with fear. He looked around and saw the falls directly ahead.
CHAPTER TWO
Uther rode toward London. He began the journey from Morgana’s stronghold when he heard the Saxons at the fortress along the coast held the horse fights this year. That meant they would have chosen a war leader, and he knew he’d best move against them before they could feel for a vulnerable spot and jump him.
He was in trouble without his son. More and more in the last three years Uther had associated his son with him in ruling. More and more the youngster had been picking up the slack.
Merlin had well known what he was doing when he exiled the boy. Aside from the drastic emotional blow it dealt him, Arthur’s absence made the king’s job twice as hard.
The High Kingship was the nexus of forces that in the nature of things were diametrically opposed to each other. The system he headed worked well and had done so time out of mind. And in the process made Alba one of the most prosperous places outside of the east where irrigation produced almost unimaginable wealth for some and unspeakable misery for others.
But Alba, the White Isle, had escaped the cruelty of becoming too stratified a society, with a few literally drowning in wealth, the many either broken by the burden of finding shelter, clothing, and enough food to keep body and soul together, the lowest classes serving their masters as domestics, household labor, beasts of burden, shepherds, field hands, and manual laborers, or having to
This time he followed. She moved in her own light. Then he realized they were in a tunnel. It seemed made of black rock with letters set into the stone. The letters glowed gold, sunlight gold, metallic gold, the soft textured gold of flowers. Some were green, now grass green, verdant green, emerald, the cloudy shadow of the gemstone, orange, scarlet, purple, amethyst-red fire and roses. After a time, he ran out of comparisons for all the colors he saw.
The passage wasn’t filled with water, either. He could surface and take a breath if he wanted to. The first time he did, he found himself floating in a tranquil river under a clear, star-filled sky. In the distance, he could see the firefly lights of a city or a large town.
She surfaced next to him. “Don’t do that,” she said.
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“That tunnel is—” She broke off. “How the hell do I explain? You know what you are?”
They were both up to their necks in the river, dog-paddling, and the water was cold. At least, to him it was.
“No! What?” he snapped back.
“A damn primitive savage!” she yelled.
“A what?” he shouted, outraged. “Hey, lady, you invited me along—”
That was as far as he got. She dove, grabbed his legs, and pulled him down. He went under with a yell of fury that nearly drowned him, because his mouth was still open when he went under.
He tore free of her arms, kicked out to keep her off, and found himself bobbing up like a cork. When he next surfaced, he found himself in yet another place. It was broad daylight, and he was in a high-sided canyon of red stone. The river was high, and the current a millrace. The water was being beaten to a froth of white by the action of the current pounding rocks that seemed to sprout like fangs from the riverbed. His body slammed into one hard on his left side, and his left arm went limp.
The water was cold and very clear. He saw the bone leap through the skin as his upper arm broke.
Then she was beside him. “You goddamn stubborn fool! You unlimited asshole! You . . .”
A tall, thin spire of rock appeared just ahead. She threw her arm around him, pulling him to her breast. The pain hadn’t hit yet, but Black Leg knew it would in a second and the arterial blood, red from his arm, was a long streamer in the roaring water.
A second later, her other arm was around the pylon of rock that lifted from the water. He was facing her and saw her eyes dilate with fear. He looked around and saw the falls directly ahead.
CHAPTER TWO
Uther rode toward London. He began the journey from Morgana’s stronghold when he heard the Saxons at the fortress along the coast held the horse fights this year. That meant they would have chosen a war leader, and he knew he’d best move against them before they could feel for a vulnerable spot and jump him.
He was in trouble without his son. More and more in the last three years Uther had associated his son with him in ruling. More and more the youngster had been picking up the slack.
Merlin had well known what he was doing when he exiled the boy. Aside from the drastic emotional blow it dealt him, Arthur’s absence made the king’s job twice as hard.
The High Kingship was the nexus of forces that in the nature of things were diametrically opposed to each other. The system he headed worked well and had done so time out of mind. And in the process made Alba one of the most prosperous places outside of the east where irrigation produced almost unimaginable wealth for some and unspeakable misery for others.
But Alba, the White Isle, had escaped the cruelty of becoming too stratified a society, with a few literally drowning in wealth, the many either broken by the burden of finding shelter, clothing, and enough food to keep body and soul together, the lowest classes serving their masters as domestics, household labor, beasts of burden, shepherds, field hands, and manual laborers, or having to
Similar Books
