A Guile of Dragons Page 0,2

or woman can play the game on another level.”

“You say: a man or a woman.”

“Such as myself,” said Merlin, pleased. “Or yourself. Yes.”

Nimue was annoyed. Once she had believed these sly little hints of Merlin’s; perhaps he himself believed in them still. But she had long ago noticed he found a way to keep the upper hand, and there was no reason to believe things would ever be different. Otherwise she would not have begun the game that (unknown to him) was in play.

“Someday,” Merlin continued, “when matters are settled, we may even have an heir.”

The dreamy wishful tone of his voice was more than she could bear. “‘May have’?” she said bitterly. “Surely it’s just a matter of time?” And less than you think, she nearly added. For an old man, Merlin was relentless in bed, as hungry for her body as she was for his mind.

“Not altogether,” Merlin admitted. “Ages ago when my wife . . . died, I decided . . . I decided I did not want an heir. I would be the last of the Ambrosii. So I had a friend set an infertility spell on me, a very powerful one.”

“Could it have worn off?” Nimue wondered, and was appalled when she realized she’d said it aloud.

But Merlin simply smiled with a horrible smugness and said, “Virility and fertility are different, my dear. No, this spell will never wear off, as you say. It would take a good deal of trouble to undo, and someone else would have to cast the counterspell: a magician’s attempt to reshape himself is almost always disastrous. I’ve lived without even the hope or desire of a child for so long. But now . . . Well, not now, obviously. But I begin to think that soon I may revisit that choice.”

Someone else would have to cast the counterspell. Nimue thought of Earno and his knowledge of her pregnancy that was too obvious to need stating. Her thoughts were bitter and almost moved her to speak. But he had said not now, obviously. She was pregnant now. Again, she didn’t speak.

The woods became too dense for riding; they dismounted their horses and, leaving the reins tied to a branch, walked deeper into the woods and Merlin’s doom.

“I know it may seem strange to you,” Merlin was saying, “but the game of power I am playing is different from Morgan’s, or Arthur’s, or Emperor Lucius’—that sad, bereft little man. All these—the king, his knights, the nations—are no more than a part of the chessboard, a few of the pieces. Some of the problems are here, but the opponent is elsewhere.”

“Who is your opponent?” she asked, guessing she knew.

Merlin smiled. He was always smiling, and whatever he said, he hid something unsaid behind that smile. “I play against my old master, the summoner Bleys, and against his rival and peer, the summoner Lernaion. And, I suppose, against the entire Graith of Guardians that they lead and guide. None of these is yet aware that the game is in progress, so it has been a little one-sided so far. Things will get a bit thicker presently.”

“What of the third summoner? You said once there were three.”

“There is a third, the Summoner of the Outer Lands.” Merlin’s smile broadened. “You might say he is my ally.”

Nimue wasn’t smiling. “I wish you’d explain it to me clearly. I don’t want power. I just want to know.”

“That is how it begins, for such as you and me.”

“This says nothing.” Desperation gave her words an edge. Soon Merlin and all he knew would be beyond her reach. “When you were young, you found Bleys to teach you. Now you must teach me.”

He laughed. “I’ve taught you much already. If I make you always aware of what you have left to learn . . . Well, in part that’s because I don’t want your hunger to disappear.”

“That could never happen.”

“It does, though. I’ve seen it happen to so many of those-who-know. It’s easy to get tired, to say, ‘I know all I need,’ or ‘—all that is important’ or even ‘—all there is to know.’ It is difficult to sustain the hunger for knowledge.”

“That’s just an excuse. I’ve heard others before.”

“No, believe me, Nimue Viviana. Nothing that I know will I deny to you forever. But if I gave it all at once, you could not receive it.”

“Teach me, then. Tell me something worth knowing.”

“Impatience. All right. I’ll tell you about this mysterious tower you’ve found.”

“You will?” For