The Dragon's Banner (13 page)

Of old the Picts would have retired after
such losses, but now they built armed camps around the city and the
fort, and settled in to enlist hunger as an ally. Urien was
dismayed, though he had expected nothing else. Whatever force had
forged this alliance among the Picts also directed their strategy.
The king knew he could hold for a time, yet he also knew that
starvation and disease would sooner or later give the enemy the
victory they sought, unless relief came to break the siege.

At dusk on the third day King Urien stood
atop the tower of his keep and looked out over the fields of the
south. Camps he saw, as the invaders surrounded the city, and when
the fading light finally failed he watched their fires twinkling in
the gathering darkness.

He spoke softly to himself. "Constantine, our
fate is in thy hands. It was you who proposed alliance. Ride now to
my aid, and save my people and I, for one, shall acclaim thee high
king. Thus I swear before God."

Constantine awoke to someone banging on the
door of his chambers. He looked through the window and saw that the
sky was still dark, lit only by the stars themselves. "Enter."

The heavy oaken door creaked open and Arwel,
his chamberlain, entered cautiously. The counselor was a tall,
slender man, not much younger than Constantine himself. He bowed to
the king. "I beg your pardon for awakening you, sire, but news we
have had that I thought you should hear at once."

The king sat up uncomfortably, for his body
was wracked with pain in the mornings before he drank Merlin's
elixir. The room was lit only by the candle Arwel was holding, and
Uther felt around the night table for the small vial. Finding it,
he put it to his lips and took a sip of the vial concoction,
feeling the pain driven away almost at once.

"What news? Don't just stand there. What has
happened?"

"A rider has arrived from King Urien. A
parchment for your majesty he bore.” Arwel set the candle on the
small table next to Constantine’s bed.

Constantine rose and held out his hand. "Give
me the message." The chamberlain hesitated for an instant, and the
king demanded it again. "Now, for we have no time for delay." He
took the folded parchment that Arwel held out to him and looked
down at the unbroken wax seal. It was the mark of Urien; he
recognized it well. Reaching for a dagger from his nightstand he
broke the wax and read the note. Constantine's eyes widened, and
the dagger he still held slipped from his grasp and dropped to the
floor. "Assemble my counselors immediately. And is Merlin at Caer
Guricon still, or has he departed? If he not be here, send riders
seeking him. Tell him I bid him return at once, for I would speak
with him if I may."

The counselor bowed again and hurried through
the door to carry out the king's orders. After him Constantine
bellowed. "And send my valet at once!" Arwel had already sent for
the Huarwar, the king's valet, and ordered food to be brought to
his chamber, just as he'd already sent messengers to awaken the
counselors. He resolved, nonetheless, to check on things himself
and make sure all was underway.

A quarter hour later, Constantine was
dressed, and he walked out of his chamber, leaving behind the
breakfast Arwel had sent, untouched save for a few bites of bread
and a cup of spiced wine. The king strode purposefully and quickly,
for Merlin's potion had worked its magic yet again, and he felt
strength in his legs as he had not for many a year.

When he reached the great hall he found his
counselors already gathered, awaiting his arrival. He nodded
abruptly as they greeted him. "All of you are aware of what has
happened, I trust? I need not point out how serious this is, I am
certain, for you all know we did not imagine that Vortigern could
be ready to attack until early summer at the soonest. We have much
work to do."

Constantine and Merlin sat alone, speaking of
what had happened. "I underestimated Vortigern, Merlin, and he has
defied winter and stolen a march on me. Caught unready we are, for
our forces are ill-prepared to take the field as yet." He unrolled
a large map depicting all of Britannia, showing each kingdom, and
all the rivers, roads, and old forts. "This map is a great
treasure, Merlin, for there is none like it possessed by any other
lord. It was left by my father, and it depicts all terrain and
fortifications in the land. I have made great efforts to see it
kept current."

Merlin looked at the map with a grin. "I have
seen this map before, though never have you shown it to me. I
remember when your father commissioned it, though he did not live
to see it finished. Some of the borders have changed since the
initial drafting." Merlin was staring at the map but not seeing it,
for his mind was in another place, another time. "I remember the
day your father set sail, Constantine. It was dawn, and the sky was
gray. In the cold drizzle I saw him for the last time, and we bade
each other farewell. He was in good spirits, for he left to seize
an empire, but my mood was leaden, for the portents were evil. I
tried to convince him to stay, but though he trusted my wisdom, he
was blind where ambition was concerned. As if it were yesterday I
can see his ship vanishing into the dreary gray horizon."

"Are you worried I too will ignore your
counsel, Merlin?" Constantine managed a slight grin.

Merlin glanced up at his friend. "Nay,
Constantine, for no counsel do I have for you now. I know not what
to tell you to do, nor how to react. I fear that if we respond
immediately, unprepared as we are, we will be defeated. Yet if we
wait until we are ready, we may see our allies destroyed one by
one, leaving us too weak to prevail."

"Have you read the portents ill, my friend?"
Constantine wasn't sure he believed in all of Merlin's mysticism,
but he knew better than to ignore anything the old man said.

Merlin sat silently for a moment, thinking.
"I cannot see whether victory or defeat awaits us, yet I divine
that great loss and sacrifice lay ahead. And certain I am that
Uther will play a vital role."

"My son is indeed a great warrior.”
Constantine allowed himself a brief prideful smile. “But can one
fighter, however skilled, make such a difference? Perhaps I should
not have sent him away."

"Nay.” Merlin put his hand on Constantine’s
arm. "I feel that he was meant to go. It may be that some wisdom he
gains on this trip will affect him in some way. Or perhaps he will
return at the right time to play his part. I know not what will
happen, but I feel Uther’s quest was necessary, and it will serve
us in some way."

"Which does not change the fact that we must
now decide what to do now." He sat silently for a few moments,
thinking. Slowly his expression changed, and Merlin could see his
friend had made a decision. "With no clear route, I must choose to
support my friends. Urien will fall without aid; that much is
certain. And of Lot we have heard naught. I must send forces north
without delay."

Constantine looked down at the table,
studying the well-crafted map carefully. He could make out the
differences between the original markings and the various updates
made over the years. The newer writing was brighter and easier to
read, the old faded and harder for his aged eyes to see.

"I cannot commit fully to the north, though,
for the Picts are far from the only force at Vortigern's command.
Still he has his Saxon allies, and there are many Britannic lords
who have sworn to him.” Constantine’s faced contorted in disgust.
“Treacherous dogs." He pointed on the map to an area well east of
Powys. "Here shall I send a contingent, for I hope to deceive
Vortigern into thinking we invade in great force. Perhaps by this
stratagem, he will be unnerved, and consequently he may pause and
give us the time we need."

Merlin, who had been silently listening,
finally spoke. "Do you not take a great risk in so dividing your
forces? Caer Guricon you could hold for some time with a small
force, allowing you to send a large army north to break the siege
of Carlisle. Then, you could concentrate your forces and attack to
the east."

Constantine considered Merlin's words.
"Indeed, my friend, we take terrible risks no matter what course we
choose. For if was stand on the defensive in Caer Guricon, with
only a small force held back, what is to stop Vortigern from
striking King Rience…or Cameliard to the south? Such a strategy
would yield all initiative to the usurper, and indeed, he has
already seized the advantage. Also, if we hide behind our walls,
what of the people? Shall we leave the towns and villages to
Vortigern's mercy? Do we stand atop our battlements while our
nations burn?"

"They will burn in any event, my friend, if
your armies are defeated in the field.” Merlin's voice was
grim.

"There is no good choice for us, Merlin, for
we are in grave danger. Yet if it must be a choice of evils, then
the choice is mine. I would stake all on aggressive action rather
than cowering behind my walls."

"Constans will go north with half of our
levy, and I shall send word to King Rience to dispatch a contingent
of his forces to join them on the march. I shall them to move with
haste, for surprise is essential to offset the enemy’s
numbers."

"They will indeed be heavily outnumbered.”
Merlin’s tone remained dark, somber. "If they do not achieve the
surprise you seek they will be at great risk, far from home and
ill-supplied. You take a great risk."

"I would send a larger force if I dared, but
I must defend Powys and also dispatch men to the east as a ruse. I
shall send 300 spears under Antonius, with orders to move rapidly
and create the appearance of a much greater army. If we are
fortunate, Vortigern will hesitate, and we shall gain the time we
need."

Constantine glanced up from the map where he
had been focusing, and looked Merlin in the eye. "I would send you
to Tintagel if you will go, for we must convince Gorlois to support
us now. The wedding, I fear, will needs be postponed, but his
armies in the field we must have without delay. He will be
difficult and hesitant to help until the kings have gathered and
acclaimed him. There is no one with a better chance to convince
him. If he consents to send a force north, I myself shall lead them
to augment Constan's army."

Merlin sighed. "Of course, Constantine, I
shall try. But Gorlois is ofttimes unreasonable. I am uncertain of
my chances for success."

"We have no other choice, my friend, for
there is no prospect of convincing all the kings to abandon their
strongholds now to attend Gorlois’ wedding and coronation. Indeed
Urien is besieged and Lot likely cut off entirely. Gorlois has
demanded that all be present at the wedding to acclaim him king
before he releases his forces. He must relent on this demand."

Merlin nodded. "I shall go and prepare, for I
leave on the morrow."

"Fare thee well, my friend. I fear that no
road is safe now, so I will send fifty men at arms with you as
escort."

Merlin nodded his thanks and took his leave
of the king. Walking down the corridor he thought grimly to
himself, for he had grave concerns about Constantine's strategies
and feared that the coming months would bring great hardship and
challenges. His vision of events to come was cloudy, and he was
uneasy. Through it all, Uther kept coming to his mind. What great
part, he thought to himself, are you destined to play in this saga,
Uther Pendragon?

Uther was the first to leap over the wale of
the ship, landing chest deep in the icy cold surf. The voyage home
had been a bit easier on him than the outbound journey, but he was
still glad to have his feet touch solid ground. They'd had to pay
extra to hire a ship, for winter had almost begun, and the risk of
the voyage was greater. The crew still had to sail back to Gaul, so
they insisted on landing here on the southern coast rather than
spend further days at sea. It took little effort to convince Uther
to ride more and sail less.

Beyond the narrow sandy beach there was a
wall of rock rising irregularly above the sea. While the ship was
unloaded, Uther climbed along a rugged path to the top of one of
the outcroppings and peered inland. He looked out over a small
plateau with rough grassy patches, mixed with smaller rock
formations, and beyond this there were rolling hillsides as far as
the eye could see.

Leodegrance walked partway up the path. "What
see you, old friend, save a way to avoid the unloading."

Uther laughed and turned to look at his
companion, but as his eyes moved across the panorama they caught
something hazy in the distance. His head froze, for he recognized
the shadowy image as a column of smoke, and behind it he saw
another. And another.

Leodegrance saw Uther's reaction and hurried
his way to the top of the cliff. "What is it? Riders?"

"No. Columns of smoke. Villages burning, I
would guess. It would seem war has come already, at least to the
south."

Leodegrance scaled the last section of path
and stood next to Uther, gazing out over the hillsides at the dark,
shadowy pillars rising into the sky. They were becoming denser and
easier to see. "By my reckoning, we are not far from Cameliard. If
there be open war here, my father will know. We must ride to
Caerleon without delay."

Uther looked up and down the coast, finally
pointing east. "There the cliff is much lower. Likely we can find a
path the horses can climb."

Down on the beach Caradoc was supervising the
unloading of the horses and mules and the organization of
provisions. With Caradoc's guards added to the surviving warriors
and servants of Uther and Leodegrance there were nearly thirty in
the band, and it took half the day to unload them and prepare to
ride. They ate a quick and cold midday meal, for Uther and
Leodegrance were insistent that they travel as far as possible by
nightfall.