He said, after a pause: “And Count Ferlas?”

“Oh, yes. He went to Luguvallium and asked here and there, but no matter of that. It’s a long story, and he got nowhere. He could not come near Nimuë. He found out nothing, and his brother took ill of a fever, and died, so Ferlas came back.”

“Was it a spell, the sickness?”

“Who knows? Are you afraid?”

“I’m not afraid of witches, not now,” said Alexander, and laughed. She looked at him, momentarily startled by the suddenly adult and almost indulgent tone, then laughed with him.

“Nor you are, my lover. Then you will go and get this magical cup for me?”

“I said I would.” He hesitated again. “If you will promise me something.”

“Conditions? I have said I will love you.” A smile of charming mischief that hid a secret amusement. “I will even serve your wine in the grail when you bring it here.”

A half-shake of the head. He was quite serious now. “Only tell me – promise me – that when you have this magical cup in your hands with, what did you say? all the power of the greater gods, you will use it only to help yourself to freedom, and after that, in the service of the High King.”

For a moment he thought he had said too much. The sudden flash in her eyes reminded him that he was still, if not strictly a prisoner here in the Dark Tower, very much in her power. But she needed him. Her brother Arthur might move at any moment to have her transferred to stricter rule, and she had a shrewd idea that where the blunt soldier Ferlas and his predecessor had failed to come near Nimuë’s secret, the innocent and patently loyal Alexander might succeed. So she only smiled, with a kind of sad sweetness, and lifted a hand to touch his cheek again.

“All I want is the power the grail will give me to win clear of my brother’s mistrust, and stay free from my sister’s dreadful fate. To protect me, Alex, no more, and then to serve him. I know it can. Will you grant me this?”

“Of course I will! I promise it!”

Three days later, with his horse fresh, his weapons burnished, and a new embroidered cloak over his shoulders, Alexander set out for the north, and the kingdom of Rheged, where there was a castle belonging to Pelleas, husband of Nimuë the enchantress.

28

This had happened before; the day was fine, he was well armed, astride his good horse, and adventure lay ahead of him. But Alexander had no thought for the past. Then he had been a very young man, whereas now … His thoughts still full of his mistress, and of their farewell love-making last night, he rode at an easy canter along the river’s side.

His lovesick abstraction was almost his undoing. Though, warned by his former accident hereabouts, he was riding with some care for the roughness of the track, his horse shied so suddenly, and seemingly for no reason, that he was almost unseated. He came to himself with a mild curse, controlled the horse, and only then saw the ghost that had caused it to shy.