Free Return to Caer Lon by Claude Dancourt Page B

lineage.”
    She heard the rebuff, loud and clear, as he looked away. A book about Camelot High Kings had to talk about his family from his father’s side. The topic of William was hurtful for Ylianor , and Derek never mentioned it, least of all to her. Sacha renounced conversing to concentrate on her tea and her piece of cake.
    “ The name Pendragon evolves from ' kin of dragon ,' the son of the dragon. One of my ancestors served with the XXIV legion, the ‘Draco’ R oman legion. He settled in the country after the war and married the daughter of a local warlord. Their son was nicknamed that, ‘kin of dragon’. His first name was Acturus ; Arthur .”
    Sacha glanced back at Derek , genuinely surprised by his long explanation. She was used to his haughty tone and sullen attitude. Curiosity and pride sparkled in his voice, unsettling. She answered softly, “I did not know that.”
    Derek shook his head.
    “Neither did I.”
    His answer was tainted with regret. Sacha wished she knew the words he needed to hear. Maybe there were none.
    A gush of chilly wind whipped the floor around them and she closed her arms around her, quivering slightly. The air  still had to warm up, especially in late afternoons. April was fools’ spring; she should have remembered that before leaving her cloak inside. Sacha swiveled a round to protect herself from the cold breeze, the gesture conveniently hiding her trouble.
    The prince drained his cup and pushed on to his feet, his forbidding mask back into place.
    “It is interesting, but irrelevant. We need information, not old tales. Let’s go back inside.”
    Sacha noticed this time he had not protested against finding the City. She followed him inside the scriptorium and they retook their places on each side of the table. Derek delayed taking back his book, so she presented him with her own pensum .
    “This treaty is a tax-payment list. The collector wrote down the amounts he retrieved from each village, and how far it was from Caer Lon. I do not recognize the names, though. It was a long time ago and they probably changed.”
    “I will have a look.”
    Sacha scowled. He had little chance to know the forgotten names better than she did. Derek was peeking at every piece on the table except the book telling about his family’s history and he had yet to make a move to take hers . He seemed torn between curiosity and the need to distance himself from the emotions it arose inside him. His hand lay on the open book in front of him, immobile.
    “May I peruse yours?”
    Sacha ’s query seemed to awake him. His answer came out as frosty as the wind outside.
    “Be my guest.”
    Derek motioned her to take the book and picked up hers in exchange. Sacha grimaced at the top of his head and pulled the heavy volume toward her.
    The writing was neat; the ink had reddened with the passing years. Talent copyists or the author himself had decorated the margins with beautiful bestiaries, flowers and landscapes. Sacha marked Derek ’s page with her index, and turned the pages to discover more delicate drawings.
    Running water was a recurrent topic with the illustration: fountains and lakes were drawn every few pages. The few waterfalls were incredibly vivid. She was admiring an exquisite and strange fish with a long beak and a hole on its forehead when Derek interrupted her thoughts.
    “I know that name.”
    Sacha l i ft ed her head up .
    “Gwel Caer; that’s where my mother comes from.”
    “Gwel Caer? Are you sure?”
    The young woman was quite certain Ylianor had never used that name. Yet the queen rarely talked about her past. Derek nodded impatiently.
    “Yes. It is called Gwelgaer now. I have to talk to Friar Johan.”
    “ Derek , this is not enough to… We need to… Derek , wait!”
    He was already marching toward the Library door. Sacha stood up rashly, pushing on the table (and the book) for leverage. Her palm rubbed on the fragile surface and the unmistakeable noise of paper tearing up