The Eagles' Brood cc-3

by Jack Whyte

  "Yes, Commander, and thank you." He saluted me and then he saluted Donuil and left.

  Donuil turned to me, his eyebrows raised in curiosity at the salute, and I went over the whole thing again with him in his own language. By the time I had finished he was grinning from ear to ear, and he stood to attention and saluted me too. I had to smile.

  "Thank you, Tribune Donuil," I said. "Please remember to tell Centurion Rufio to teach you to salute, too!"

  As soon as I had got rid of him, I stretched out on my bunk and fell asleep, after taking the precaution of telling a guard to wake me up at nightfall, in three hours time. He did so, and under the friendly cover of darkness I left the fort and travelled back to Avalon with Cassandra's new clothes.

  When she had overcome her awe and delight at the abundance of riches I had brought her, I spent two pleasant, satisfying hours in her arms and was back in my own bed shortly after midnight.

  XX

  I was in the stables when the messenger found me.

  "Your pardon, Commander Merlyn, but Commander Uther requests that you join him in his quarters for a few moments."

  I looked at the trooper in surprise. "He's supposed to be here already. I'm almost ready to leave."

  "The Commander is ready, sir. His horses are tethered by the main gate."

  I told him to tell Uther I would be along directly and continued tightening the girth on my saddle. My pack- horse, which was really an extra charger, was already loaded up with the few supplies I needed. It was still only the third hour of the morning. I guessed that Uther had gone to bed early and been up for hours.

  I found him in his rooms, leaning against the whitewashed wall, putting an edge on a dagger with a small stone by the light of a couple of oil lamps.

  "Good morning, Uther. All ready? What's up?"

  "Good morning, Cousin." He grinned at me and nodded towards his bunk. Curious, I stepped to his bed and looked down at the device that lay there on top of the blanket.

  "What is it?"

  "Pick it up, then you tell me what it is."

  I looked at it more closely before touching it: a weapon of some kind. A short, thick handle, covered in leather with a strong-looking leather loop at one end. The other end was sheathed in iron and attached to a short length of heavy chain links and on the other end of the chain, a ball about as big as a clenched fist.

  "Is that iron?"

  "Pick it up."

  I did, and the ball, which was iron, remained on the bed as the chain extended with a series of clinks. I pulled it towards me and the ball fell from the bed, hitting the floor with a solid thud. The overall length of the thing was slightly shorter than my arm. I hoisted the ball clear of the floor. It was heavy.

  "Very well, Uther. What is it?"

  "Oh, come on, Merlyn! How many times have I had to listen to the tale of how you discovered the use of the saddle and stirrups? Can't you imagine what that thing would do to a man on foot if you swung it round your head?"

  I hefted it tentatively, and suddenly I had no trouble in seeing what it was. "It would impress him."

  "It would indeed—helmet, skull and all."

  "Where did you get the idea?"

  "You remember Vegetius Sulla's whistling stone? Partly from that. Partly from Grandfather Varrus's old story of you and the club. It's been lying around in my head for a long time now. I decided to have one made last time I was home. It worked, but the chain was too long, so was the handle, so we cut the length of the handle and reduced the chain to fourteen links, and there you are. I had one made for each of us. Yours is black, mine is red, see?" He bent and scooped another one from the floor by his feet. "Wrap the loop around your wrist and you can't lose it, even if you let go the handle."

  "Very impressive! But why did you make me come all the way here to get it? Couldn't you have brought it to me?"

  "Are you mad, man? Those things are heavy! I would not even try to lug two of them all the way to the stables! I'd look like Vulcan himself, dragging those things across the courtyard."

  I laughed in spite of myself and hoisted the ball up, catching it in my left hand. It was heavy. "Come on," I said, "We'd better be moving; Thank you for this. I promise not to hit you with mine if you don't hit me with yours."

  "Done! Now let's get out of here. We have about two hours of darkness left."

  By the time the first pale hints of dawn began to appear in the sky, we were far to the north-east and making good time, each of us leading an extra horse. We had ridden in silence, our ears straining to pick up alien sounds in the darkness around us, for it was in both our minds that Lot's bowmen with their poisoned arrows could be anywhere, but we met no one and heard nothing to alarm us, and soon the darkness had leached away sufficiently for us to discern the swelling bulk of the Mendip Hills on our right. We rode on into one of those magical mornings whose beauty remains in the mind long after the day it gives birth to has been forgotten. The entire landscape was veiled in a grey, low-lying mist that swirled around our horses' hooves, and every leaf, every blade of grass, hung heavy with dew, so that as the warmth of the sun dispersed the mist it seemed that we rode through a land encrusted with glittering, multi-coloured jewels. Single trees stood out from their neighbours as though burnished in pale greenish gold, and the world was filled with the singing of uncountable birds.

  We were riding side by side, our knees almost touching, when we breasted a low rise and saw the strange markings on the valley floor in front of us. For my part, although I saw the thing in front of us immediately, I was slow in recognizing it. Not so Uther, who drew in his breath with an abrupt, hissing sound.

  "You were right, Cay. They're on the move."

  It was the trail left in long, wet grass by a large party of men who had crossed our path very recently. Their passage had flattened a broad swath of grass, dislodging the dew, so that the rays of the morning sun showed their tracks as a broad highway of darkened grass, black-green against the sea of sparkling dewdrops to either side.

  "Where did they come from, Uther? Which way?"

  "From the east, heading west. You can see that from the way the light hits the flattened grass. They must have been riding north, like us, hugging the flank of the hills, then swung left to get to the hills on the other side."

  I glanced along the broad path stretching to our left. "You think they might be your poisonous bowmen?"

  "Not a question of might be.. .I'd wager on it. Lucky we weren't here ten minutes ago."

  "You think they passed that recently?"

  "Not much more than that. The birds are singing, so they're not close by, but the dew only fell in the last hour or so arid they went through after that."

  "So what do we do now?"

  "Exactly what we are doing, Cousin, but faster. There's nothing we can do about these people. We are only two against God knows how many of them. Let's head on, collect our own people, get back to Camulod as quickly as we can, and hope for the opportunity to provide a very nasty surprise for our visitors."

  He kicked his horse forward and I followed him across the pathway of Lot's assassins, breaking into a canter as we traversed the open meadow between us and the unbroken line of trees ahead. As we reached the forest's edge, we both turned to look behind us at the unmistakable path our own horses had created in crossing the grass. It was now broad daylight and the sun was visible. Uther kneed his horse around towards the trees. "An hour at the most and the tracks will be gone. Let's just hope none of them head back this way too soon."

  "Why should they? They're heading west and they have a long way to go."

  "So do we, Cousin, and this forest doesn't look hospitable. Let's go."

  Uther was right. Far from being hospitable, the stretch of forest we now faced was almost impenetrable, and there were times when we had to dismount and lead our horses through narrow gaps between thickets of ferocious undergrowth that simply refused to yield a passage. We struggled for well over an hour before the growth began to th
in, but it seemed we had successfully negotiated the worst part of our journey, and we were able to mount again and ride through the remainder of the forest.

  Finally, when the sun was almost directly overhead, we came into a meadowed clearing dominated by one massive old oak tree that stood on the bank of a clear, fast-flowing brook, and by tacit consent we dismounted and unsaddled our horses. Sometime later, the comfort of our mounts attended to, we sat on the bank of the stream, chewing on some of the cold venison and fresh bread we had brought with us from Ludo's kitchen.

  "How far do we have to go, do you think?" I asked.

  Uther shrugged and bent over to scoop up some water from the stream. "Should be there by nightfall, if we can make better time for the rest of the day." He drew himself erect again, wiping drops of water from his chin. "You know, Cousin, I never have remembered to congratulate you on your new rank.. .Supreme Commander of Camulod."

  I was instantly on edge and distinctly uncomfortable, although not from his tone. I glanced at him quickly, but there was nothing to see in his eyes. His face was almost expressionless, with merely the hint of an ironic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I bent to the water and drank, too, more to conceal my sudden insecurity than anything else, then straightened up and waited, but he said nothing more.

  "Thank you," I said eventually, moving back to sit beside him, then waited again. Uther, however, merely sighed and lay down, making himself comfortable on the grassy bank, leaving it for me to continue the conversation. "When did you find out?"

  "What? About your promotion? When I returned last time. I meant to say something, but by then it was old tidings, and I forgot. But I'm glad for you. You earned it."

  "You don't mind?"

  "Mind?" He laughed aloud, and raised his head from the ground to gaze at me in surprise. "Why should I mind? Did you think I would be envious?"

  I shrugged my shoulders. "Not really, although I must admit the possibility had come into my mind."

  He propped himself up on one elbow and shook his head, as though in wonder at my silliness. "Tell me, Cay, will you be envious of me when I am King of Pendragon?"

  I felt my eyes grow wide. "Of course not."

  "Then why ask such a question of me?"

  "I don't know, Uther. Forgive me." I felt foolish and petty, but he had already changed the subject.

  "But there's one other thing I never did ask you. The girl, Cassandra...how did you get her out of that guarded room?"

  Coming as it did, this question, too, caught me off guard. I felt a wave of resentment wash over me and all of my doubt and distrust came flooding back. I bit back the hostile response that sprang to my tongue and turned my face away to mask my feelings, hiding my agitation by answering his question with one of my own. "What makes you think I had anything to do with it?"

  He barked his short, ferocious laugh. "Come on, Cay, this is me! Uther! Either you spirited her away, or I have to start believing in magic. Of course it was you! But how in the name of your Druid mystics did you do it? And why did you do it?"

  "She was in danger."

  "From whom?"

  "From whoever it was who tried to kill her in the first place."

  He sat erect now and looked at me in surprise, an expression of genuine puzzlement that made me wonder if he truly was a remarkable actor. "Why would anyone try to kill her?" he asked. "She was raped and beaten, from what I understand. Badly it seems, but why would anyone try to kill her? And if they had, why wouldn't they have done the job properly in the first place? She was no better than a slave girl. No one would have paid much heed.'"

  My anger boiled over. "To murder? In Camulod? My father makes no secret of the fact that the price for rape and murder in his command is death! You seem to take it very

  lightly, Cousin, but that's the way it is! Death. My hope was that she might identify her attacker, or attackers, if there were more than one of them, which I doubt!"

  His eyebrow had gone up at the strength of my outburst and now when he spoke, his voice was low. "Why would you doubt it?"

  "I have my reasons."

  "I'm sure you do." His voice was much quieter now. "Do you mind my asking what they are?"

  "Ask yourself, Uther!"

  "Ask myself?" He frowned slightly and shook his head abruptly. "So why would it be so important to you— because it very obviously is—that this girl should be able to identify her attacker? That is what I'm asking myself, Cay. Why? You went to a great deal of trouble to protect her. Why? She was a stranger."

  "Not to everyone! She was no stranger to you!"

  "To me? What does that mean? I wasn't even in Camulod!"

  "Oh yes you were, Uther!"

  Now his frown was deep and angry. "Are you suggesting..." His voice tailed away to silence and I watched the muscles in his face as they reflected the thoughts going through his mind. If he was dissembling, he was performing masterfully. "It was that night, wasn't "it? The night I left?"

  "Yes. The night you left in a rage, swearing to teach her a lesson she would not soon forget. They found her in the stables next morning. She had been beaten almost to death. And you were gone. No one had seen you go. No one knew where you had gone."

  "I see." He was not looking at me. His eyes Were fixed on a rock in the stream bed and on the water that spumed around it. "So you, quite naturally, assumed that I had done this thing." His eyes flicked up to hold my gaze. "It was a very brutal beating, wasn't it?" I did not respond. "And you thought me capable of that kind of bestiality?" I simply stared at him. "You still think so?"

  "I don't know, Uther."

  "You wanted her to recover and identify me?"

  That, and the way he said it, made me pause. "No, I wanted her to recover and identify her attacker. I did not want it to be you." He was looking directly at me. "I was afraid it might be, but I was hoping she would prove me wrong."

  "So why did you arrange for her to disappear? You could have kept her there until I came back."

  "I could have, but by keeping her there I was putting her life in danger."

  "How, in God's name? I was nowhere near!"

  "Are you admitting guilt?"

  "No, of course not, but you suspected me."

  I got to my feet and looked down at him. "That's trust, in a strange way, I suppose. I suspected you, but I had no proof and I could have been wrong. I wanted desperately to believe I was wrong. And if I were wrong, then her true attacker could have been any man in Camulod. It could have been one or even more of the men guarding her—any of them. And any of them could have killed her. That would have proved you innocent, but she would have died in the proving of it."

  He considered that for some time, then jerked his head in a brief gesture of acceptance. "So how did you get her out?"

  "By trickery. She was gone before I ever mounted a guard over her."

  "No. Her guards saw her."

  "They saw a boy who took her place. He ran out of the building while the guards were waiting for someone to try to get in."

  Uther shook his head, a slow smile of wonder stealing over his face. "You are quite a man, Cousin. Where did you take her to?"

  "A safe place. Why do you ask?"

  "Curiosity."

  I shrugged again. "She is...safe."

  "Good. Then I hope I'll have the pleasure of meeting her again some day and putting your mind at rest, one way or the other."

  I had to ask my question. "Was it you, Uther? Did you do it?"

  He was silent for a long time, holding my gaze, a strange look on his face that I had not seen before. "You saw me as I left, that night. You obviously thought I was angry enough to do it. Then I disappeared, which could be taken as an indication of guilt." He paused, evidently remembering. "The four wenches we had that night. They must have said something. What happened to them?"

  "They never knew. I sent them away early the next morning, before they had a chance to hear about it. They went under close escort—some trusted men of Titus'
s— ostensibly to set up a house for us in Glevum. The news had not yet spread, and they knew nothing of what happened."

  He thought about that for a short time. "My thanks, Cousin, for that. You evidently had at least some doubts in your head about my guilt."

  "Some." I nodded. "Enough to convince me to take steps to protect you from gossip. I was angry and confused, but I wanted to conduct my own inquiries uninfluenced by hearsay."

  He stood up. "Well, Cousin Cay, I'm in a bad situation here. I could claim innocence, but it wouldn't put your doubts to rest. I know the truth of it, but you are going to have to live with your doubts, I'm afraid—for a while, at least. Can you continue to do that?"

  "Why not? I've been doing it for months."

  "And you can still ride with me?"

  "Aye, Uther, and fight with you, and hope I've been mistaken. I have strong doubts about your guilt and your innocence, both, and I have no proof of either. On the other hand, I've known you all my life and no man is dearer to me.

  There was a half smile on his lips. "So you would forgive me for one lapse?"

  I shook my head, seeing Cassandra's battered body in my mind. "No, Uther, I would not, not for that one. That was inhuman, unforgivable. I simply hope it wasn't you who did it, and until the day when I know for certain, one way or the other, I will treat you as Uther Pendragon, cousin and friend untarnished."

  He was no longer smiling. "Caius," he said, "I tell you truthfully that I can see your reasons for doubting me. .Were I in your shoes, thinking these doubts of you, I do not know if I could hold myself to be as magnanimous as you are now. Thank you for that." And then the devil flickered in his eyes again, and he added, "But do try to remember that most human men, being only men, cannot stand too much magnanimity in others. It smacks of sanctimoniousness." He rose to his feet before I could frame a response. "Come, we had better be on our way. Time is not waiting for us and our troopers are."

  We made good time for the remainder of the day, but it was after sunset before we arrived at the abandoned farm where our forces awaited us. Uther spoke for both of us, issuing orders that we would break camp at dawn and march back immediately. We would encamp the following night and finish our return journey by sunrise, so that, providing the enemy was in place, we would arrive at his back before noon.