Rosier nodded again. “He was the leader. Kill him, marry his wife to keep the fey alliance, unite the ‘kingdoms,’ and defeat the invaders. That was the plan.”
“And end up as high king in the process.”
“Well, why shouldn’t he have? He might have been an ugly, uncouth boor, but he was a smart, ugly, uncouth boor, and damn good on the battlefield. He knew how to concentrate on what was important, and how to keep his people safe.”
“It sounds like you liked him.”
“I did. Well enough to help him, in any case.”
“Help him . . . how?”
Rosier shrugged. “Gorlois wasn’t the problem, not really. He’d just gotten delusio
ns of grandeur after his marriage, and saw no reason why he should bow to some wild man from Wales. But he couldn’t back it up where it counted; he couldn’t defeat Uther in battle, which would normally have made dealing with him easy enough.”
“Except for his wife.”
“Yes. Igraine was the problem. She may or may not have really loved Gorlois; I was never sure. But she definitely loved how easy he was to manipulate. And therefore how easy it was to lay down terms advantageous to the fey but not so much for the Britons. Gorlois essentially did whatever she wanted, and insisted on equally harsh terms for everybody else or he would take his toys and go home, and they could fight the damn Saxons on their own. Yes, she liked her marriage just fine.”
“But Uther didn’t.”
“No, Uther didn’t. So he made war on Gorlois, and when the man sent his wife to Tintagel on the coast, for safekeeping, Uther asked for a favor—”
“Wait. Wait. I know this.” A half-forgotten memory rattled around in my head, something I’d heard once, or maybe read. Something shocking enough to be remembered . . .
I abruptly sat up. “That was you! You helped him—”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“You helped him sneak into the castle—”
“It wasn’t a castle then, and we didn’t sneak. There was no reason to sneak.”
“—and pretend to be Gorlois!”
“Emrys gets his ability at illusion from me,” Rosier agreed.
“You helped him . . . you helped him . . . rape Igraine.”
And despite everything, despite Rosier’s demon lord status, I was still shocked. And appalled. And it must have come through in my voice, because he frowned at me.
“Yes, everything is so simple, isn’t it? So cut-and-dried when you aren’t fighting for your life every day, and the lives of your people—”
“Uther wasn’t fighting for his life! He was fighting for a better position—”
“He was fighting for his life!”
Rosier tried to get to his feet, but they were still in process. So he ended up on his proto butt in the mud, glaring at me. It might have been funny another time, but right now I had to struggle not to punch him.
“Do you think the fey gave a damn about the humans they guarded?” he demanded. “They did the absolute minimum they could get away with—enough to hold the borders, but not to drive out the invaders, which would have removed the reason for their aid, wouldn’t it? They were perfectly content to have the country in a state of never-ending warfare, but Uther—he might have been a man of war, but he wanted peace, lusted after it, much more than he ever did that cold fey—”
“Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it—”
“—bitch who I doubt ever loved anyone. I didn’t approve of what he was doing—”
“I’m sure! An incubus disapproves!”
“She says with such disdain! Knowing nothing about us—”