"Lot?" Mab laughed suddenly. "No doubt, Igrain. It was him."
A sudden sob broke from Igrain. Mab watched as she shook, panted and then lost all composure and sank to the floor weeping.
"My husband," she cried. "Too many years we slept side-by-side."
Minutes passed and Mab realized that Igrain had not heard her. Perhaps who had killed Galois wasn't important any more. He was just dead.
"Might I suggest an alternative to this rapturous weeping?" she offered kindly. "Go to Camelot, see your daughter, and speak to her. Then," she smiled widely but kept it out of her voice. "Then go to your husband's friend and find comfort in him. Tell him that you forgive him."
"I cannot go to Camelot," Igrain whispered.
Mab squatted down next to Igrain. "I must convince you. We Avalonians have power in our DNA. I can help you ease the pain."
She shook her head. "I must weep. What will become of us on this planet if this civil war is our life now?”
"You are strong, Igrain!" Mab seized her shoulders again. "Look into my face. I will dull the pain."
Before Igrain could refuse, Mab lunged in like a striking snake and pressed a sharp vile to Igrain's neck, holding her head still so she could not pull away. Horror and fear gripped her as the D.R.U.I.Ds essence flowed deep into her veins. They were frozen thus for a few more paralyzing moments. When Mab pulled back, her smile became more lax.
"You will be relaxed," she cooed. "You will go to Camelot and see Uther and when he asks you a question, you will say yes." She kissed Igrain’s forehead and touched her belly lightly.
12
To Be King
The world outside the healing tube shimmered in color, but to Uther, from the inside, the whole world distorted into a stark, bubbly pink. This would no doubt stain his skin for days, but it was necessary. Merlin had done more than his word and had had Uther back into the D.R.U.I.D's hospital for the procedure immediately. He had once again been cut and grafted with grown skin and injected with Avalonian DNA to dull the pain and speed his healing. He didn't feel ill this time around, which he counted as improvement. Now he just had to wait.
He enjoyed the floating sensation and drifted into something more than relaxed when a duet of guards entered to announce that Igrain had arrived on planet, but that Merlin had detained her for a few hours. Uther felt horrified more than glad to hear it, but not total despair as he already changed his body back. She would never know what he had done. The Avalon medicine proved to be magic.
He allowed Merlin to fetch her even though he floated in this naked, healing state. When she came in, he smiled past his oxygen mask and saw that she had been weeping most piteously. She approached slowly, taking in his mangled features and seeing how he healed in the strange Avalonian substance. He waved his hand limply at her through the clear container.
“Do you know why I have come?” Igrain stood, her arms lax and her face nearly expressionless. “Not five hours ago, I was informed that my husband, your friend, is dead.”
A terrible liar, he thanked the cover of the instruments around him that hid any sign of his contriving an answer. So, he simply said, “I heard the news. I am sorry, Igrain.”
Merlin appeared behind Igrain, a white, robed figure, hands clasped elegantly in front of him.
“You may exit the tube in a few more hours, Uther,” he said. “You are nearly healed.”
A moment of silence trickled between them as the machines hummed in the darkness and the pink cast by the healing tube tinted everything a healthy rose color. They all seemed to be waiting, but Uther didn’t know what for.
“Where are Lot and Morgause?” he asked in the silence. He didn’t have to make his voice weak, the exhaustion from the surgery could not be feigned.
“My family is sundering,” she replied. “My husband did not wish me to be a soldier in the end. He said I should be a wife. A woman of beauty.” She grimaced in confusion. “I don’t understand that. I am what I am and he loved me before. Did he die not loving me? Wishing I would change?”
Uther ordered Merlin to take Igrain to a quiet waiting room until he finished healing. Then he had a hover transport prepared to take them out once ready. To his pleasure, Igrain didn’t argue and let herself be led to the pod bay doors and boarded the craft without question. In a moment, Uther was there with her, white in medical garb with his hair clean and long down his back.
“I want to show you,” he said.
She almost gasped, but held her tongue when she saw Uther’s scars. He looked almost as though he had been cut and then pasted back together.
“Did the battle do this to you?” she whispered.
For a brief moment, he wanted to tell her that it had been Galois during their battle. That statement would either cause her despair or make her realize just how in the wrong her husband had been. She saw him hesitate. He didn’t how to play it.
“It was Vortigern,” he said quickly. “But that is what I want to show you. I want you to see what I was fighting for.”
He saw her tense up in her seat as they shot out from the bay and over the grassy lands of uncolonized Camelot. The sun began to set over the mountains, giving everything a surreal and glowing look.
“Our evenings on Camelot are nothing compared to your nights on Lothian, but the setting sun is a master painter until then.”
She looked out the window listlessly then shook her
