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The following morning, Tom stayed inside the Great Hall, which meant doing a lot of eating as well as sleeping. The others decided to explore the White Woods, apart from Arthur, who sat alone in the cellars with Merlin’s body. He seemed mired in indecision and guilt, and Tom wasn’t sure how to get him out of his strange mood.
Later, they were summoned to Orlas’s private rooms, following a servant down the long corridors into the rear of the building. Arthur trailed behind, silent and morose.
The servant knocked on a door and ushered them through. Orlas stood in the middle of the room, leaning on a large wooden table. In front of him was a map, which he was studying with great concentration. Tom had almost forgotten what Orlas looked like, their first meeting had been so brief. His dark hair hung loose around his shoulders, and his arms were bare, his stag markings looking like tattoos against his skin. Thick gold torcs were wrapped around the tops of both arms and his neck. A young woman stood next to him. She had long red hair, and her skin glowed with pale red Cervini markings. She too had a gold torc wrapped around each arm.
It took the pair a few seconds to register their arrival, then they strode across the room to greet them. Orlas shook their hands, his grip firm and reassuring.
“Arthur, Tom. It’s good to see you again and a pleasure to meet the rest of you. Let me introduce you to Aislin, my wife.”
She stepped forward. “Welcome to the Great Hall. I’m sorry I haven’t met you sooner.” She glanced at Orlas. “I’ve been pre-occupied.”
“Understandably,” Brenna said, reassuring her.
Aislin smiled at her warmly. “It’s been a worrying few days, hasn’t it? Come, have a seat and we can talk properly.”
She led them to chairs grouped around the fire, and when they were settled, Orlas turned to Tom and Arthur. “I trust you have recovered?”
Arthur nodded. “More or less. How are you?”
“The same, although I gather we’re lucky to be alive.”
“You helped break the spell,” Aislin said to Tom.
“So everyone keeps saying,” Tom said, still bewildered by the whole event. “But I’m not sure I really helped. I wasn’t sure anything in there was real enough to work.”
“Nerian disagrees. Anyway, you’re here – despite Nimue’s best intentions.” A flush of anger coloured Aislin’s pale face.
It seemed Beansprout was also confused by Tom’s time in the spell. “So even though the spell was a powerful illusion, the things in it were real? I mean, they could be used?”
“You are asking things that are beyond my knowledge,” Orlas answered. “I reverted to my stag form, and was so completely in the spell I saw only endless woods. But Tom,” Orlas leaned forward, staring at Tom with his dark brown eyes, “you spent time with Nimue. Where did she go?”
“I have no idea. She said she was going to cast another spell to escape, and made me unconscious so that I wouldn’t interfere.”
“She gave no clue? Think carefully.”
Tom shook his head. He’d been racking his brains about it since waking. “Nothing.”
“Do you think she has returned to Vivian, or Raghnall?”
“I doubt either of them. When I said Vivian would still be worried about her, she didn’t care. She said she could look after herself.”
Orlas looked frustrated and Arthur asked, “Do you want to find her?”
“Not really. But I want to know what she’s up to. You knew her well, Arthur. What do you think she’ll do?”
“No idea. But I know she’s determined and confident. She stepped into Merlin’s place in court as if she’d been there for years.”
Woodsmoke intervened. “I really don’t think finding her would achieve anything, Orlas,” he said, repeating his earlier argument. Tom saw Arthur bristle, but he remained silent, looking only at Orlas.
Orlas sighed. “I agree. In fact I hope she’s a long way from here. We should concentrate on the things we can fix. Like Merlin.”
Arthur’s shoulders drooped in disappointment and he stared into the fire.
Aislin spoke, her gaze falling on them one by one, weighing their response. “I disagree with Orlas about resurrecting Merlin. He was a friend to us, a great friend, but nevertheless I think we are interfering with things that should be left well alone.” Orlas went to interrupt, but she stilled him with her hand. “I know it is Herne’s will. It doesn’t mean I like it. You have risked your life once for Merlin. I don’t think you should risk it again.” She looked towards the door at the rear of the room, from where they could hear children laughing.
Orlas rested his hand gently on hers. “We will be fine.” To the others, “Are you well enough to travel?”
They nodded.
“Good. We’ll leave tomorrow for Enisled.”
––––––––
That night the Cervini held a banquet for those travelling with Merlin. The main meeting hall was decorated with cut branches, the green and red leaves bright against the pale wooden walls. Fresh rushes were strewn across the floor releasing their sweet scent into the air, and lanterns lined the walls and hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the room. The tables were crowded with steaming bowls of food, and beer and wine were flowing. The Cervini were packed into the hall, and jostled together, elbow to elbow, good natured and excited at the prospect of Merlin’s return.
Tom found himself seated next to an old frail Cervini who creaked when he moved. He looked as if once he sat down, he’d never be able to stand again. He proved, however, to have the most enormous appetite, and took the opportunity to fill his bowl and his cup many times. He introduced himself as Wulfsige, and he cocked a sly eye at Tom over his beer.
“So you got trapped by the beautiful Nimue, did you?”
Tom was about to protest, then laughed. “Yes. Unfortunately I did.”
“Devious, isn’t she?” he smirked, ripping bread with his fingers and mopping up his stew.
Tom turned, suddenly attentive. “You know her?”
“Knew her. I haven’t seen her for a very long time. I thought the witch was going to kill me.”
Tom looked at him and wondered if he was joking. “Why would she do that?”
Wulfsige smiled, his face dissolving into a thousand wrinkles. “I was a young man then. A hunter. One of the best. I tracked wolves. And I was tracking wolves that day ...” He looked across the room as if he could still see them. “I caught her in the woods with Merlin. She was hypnotising him, or something like that. Beneath a withered tree.” He became serious. “She turned on me with such fury I thought that was the end of me. Those eyes. They were glowing.”
Immediately Nimue’s green eyes were back again, filling Tom’s vision. Wulfsige watched him. “They grab you, don’t they, Tom? Fill your brain until you can see only them.”
Tom blinked and nodded, his throat suddenly dry. He took a slug of beer.
“That might have been it for me, but for my hunting hound, Nyra. She’d been ranging ahead, but she suddenly burst in from the undergrowth, howling as if a great demon from the Fire Realm was chasing her. She completely distracted Nimue, and then Merlin stirred, and I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and ran. I don’t think we stopped running ’til we reached the moors.” Wulfsige refilled his bowl and started eating again.
“What happened then? Did she ever find you?” Tom asked.
“I don’t think she got a good look at me. And I extended my hunt for a few days, just to make sure I avoided her.”
“So what do you think she was doing?”
“Nothing good.” He looked up from his bowl. “You take care. She’s had a quiet few years, but don’t let that fool you.”
“Surely it’s only Merlin she had a problem with. She helped Arthur for ages after Merlin disappeared.”
“It didn’t stop her the other day though, did it?” he said wryly.
Tom took another long drink and wondered why Nimue hadn’t taken his talisman when she had the chance. Was it because she couldn’t, because Vivian had given it to him? Or was it something else? Did she want them to have a chance? He shook his head. Woodsmoke was right. They should keep well away from Nimue.
