The Dragon's Banner

by Jay Allan

  Uther shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I wondered when you would raise the issue, for it seems to be the only matter concerning anyone."

  Merlin took his cup from the small table and drank deeply of the warm spiced wine. "You did not take my head off, which suggests to me that you too understand the problem. Uther, my friend, I more than anyone know the cause of your sadness, but you chose this path to save Britannia. Would you see all that was bought with that heartbreak, yours and Igraine's, vanish at your death?"

  Uther was staring into the fire as he listened, for he was deep in thought. "What is the limit of sacrifice, Merlin? Was not my blood enough? Was not my soul enough? For surely I shall have a reckoning with God for all I have done. Is one woman so much to ask?"

  Merlin sat still, his eyes aching with compassion for his friend. "But it cannot be, Uther, for she is married to another. Even the high king cannot undo this. No one can ever replace Igraine for you. I know this, and I would not try to tell you otherwise. But a king must have an heir. You must take a wife."

  Uther looked back at the fire and was silent for a long while, absent-mindedly fingering the small ring he wore on a chain around his neck. Merlin took another drink, putting his cup gently back on the table as he sat quietly, enjoying the warmth from the hearth. Though he had lived many lifetimes of normal men, time was at last catching up with him, and he felt the cold more now that he had before.

  Finally, Uther turned to face Merlin and spoke harshly. "I have thought long on this, my friend. I will have Igraine. I will take her from Gorlois. I am high king, and I shall have as I command."

  Merlin was silent, for he was surprised by Uther's words, and he could hear the madness in the king's voice. Tread carefully here, he thought to himself.

  Uther was surprised by Merlin's silence. "What? No reasoned argument against my plan? No urging me to caution? No list of dire consequences?"

  Merlin held his hands out near the fire. "There will be consequences, Uther. Surely you see that?"

  Uther's face twisted into an angry grimace. "Then damn the consequences. I have waited long enough, and Igraine has languished too many years in Cornwall, wife to a man she doesn't love."

  "You risk all you have fought for.” Merlin’s voice was measured. "All your men have died for."

  "And why must that be so? Think you my nobles and warriors would deny me the bride of my choosing? They have little love for Gorlois. Indeed, some of them almost rebelled when I made him king of Cornwall."

  "They will fear, Uther. For if you would steal a king's wife, then what might you not do? They do not like Gorlois, but they will think that next time it will be them. They accept you as high king, but still they are protective of their positions. They will not support you if they fear you will undermine their own power. You will face constant rebellion and treachery."

  Merlin moved uncomfortably in his chair, shifting his gaze from the fire to Uther. "Remember, Igraine has been married to Gorlois for more than twelve years. Even if you were to wrest her away, she could give you naught but a bastard, and such an heir would not be accepted by the kings. How do you propose to end the marriage? No bishop will annul a union that has lasted so long and produced children."

  Uther sat unmoving in his chair and looked at Merlin with frozen eyes. "That is simple, Merlin. I propose to kill Gorlois."

  The queen of Cornwall sat in her room in Tintagel Castle sewing with her daughters. Anna was eleven and the image of her mother…except for her gray eyes. Morgan was seven, and though she had much of her mother's beauty, she also had Gorlois' large nose and thin brown hair. Igraine herself was still as beautiful as ever, though there was a pervasive sadness about her, and her eyes, which once sparkled like gemstones, were dull and lifeless.

  She looked out the window at the waves crashing on the rocks. She loved the sea; it was the only thing she enjoyed about living at Tintagel. Many days she would sit and watch the sun set over the ocean, and in the light dancing over the rippling water she would often see images, ghosts from the past. Her beloved father, killed at the Battle of Verulamium - God, was that ten years ago already? Her mother, gone so long, but still in her thoughts. And Uther Pendragon, the love of her life, torn from her by political forces that overshadowed their desires, though he had loved her as deeply as she him. Of that, at least, she was certain.

  I wonder if you have forgotten about me, my love, she thought wistfully. Part of her truly hoped he had, for she found no salve for her hurts in his pain. Yet she also clung to him, and she drew comfort from the thought that he may still long for her as she did for him. She had heard Gorlois and his advisors speaking several times, discussing Uther's refusal to marry. Does he refuse to take a wife, she wondered, because he still belongs to me in his heart?

  Her life with Gorlois had never been a happy one, but in recent years things had become worse. He was angry because she had failed to give him a son, and he was cruel when he even bothered to notice her. It was a relief that in recent years she only rarely had to put up with him sweating and grunting on top of her, for she couldn't stand the sight of him. She was lonely - desperately, achingly alone, for other than her daughters she had no one. She was not allowed to leave Tintagel Castle without Gorlois' permission, and this he rarely gave. Occasionally, he allowed her to ride through the countryside surrounding the keep, but otherwise her days were spent willing the hours to pass. Her father had taught her to read, but her husband did not believe in a literate woman, and he denied her even a bible, stating, "You shall seek your salvation through the sermons of the priests and not by reading that which you cannot possibly understand, despite your father's foolish indulgences."

  Though she loved both of her daughters, she couldn’t help but share a special closeness with Anna for, unknown to all but Igraine, she was the child of Uther Pendragon, conceived during the one night the two had shared. All the while she carried the baby, Igraine wondered who was the father, but when first she held the child and saw those steely gray eyes she knew. She had looked many times into those eyes, and they had looked into hers with love and compassion. She was thrilled that God had given her Uther's baby, though at first she had been terrified that Gorlois would know. He will kill us both, she had thought many times that first year. But the newly-crowned king of Cornwall had little interest in his daughters, and he rarely came to see them. Her fears had been for naught; Gorlois never suspected.

  Anna was a willful child, but sweet and very intelligent. Igraine saw much of her father in her, and she loved her all the more for it, though it often made her more difficult to raise. She had Uther's intransigence, and her stubbornness often strained Igraine's patience.

  Morgan, too, was smart, but it saddened Igraine that she was also cruel and manipulative. Though she loved her daughter greatly, she could see there was a darkness in the child that she could not understand. Though Gorlois ignored her as much as he did Igraine and Anna, Morgan was very fond of her father, and she came to blame her mother for the infrequency of his visits.

  Igraine tried to teach her daughters to read and write, but without books or parchment it was impossible. She would tell them stories she remembered from her childhood, tales of Rome, and legends even older, for Igraine's lineage went far back, to the shadowy past and the Celtic kings and queens who had ruled Britannia for centuries before the legions arrived.

  In the years after the war, Merlin had visited Tintagel several times, and though he purported to have matters to discuss with Gorlois, Igraine suspected he was truly there to see how she fared. Whether he had come on his own or at the behest of Uther she could not know, though whatever brought him to visit, she was grateful. Merlin had always been kind to her, and he was greatly troubled at the sacrifice she had been forced to make and guilty about his part in it. But it had been many years since she had last seen him, so even that occasional contact with her past had been lost. Everything Igraine cared about except her daughters had been taken from her, and she knew that even he
r babies would one day be lost, for Gorlois would barter them off as brides to whatever allies he deemed most crucial. Then Igraine would truly be alone with her despair.

  The room had become dark. A storm was coming in off the sea, and the sun had fallen behind the approaching clouds. She rose and lit a small splint of wood in the fireplace and used it to light the candles in the room. In the flickering candlelight she checked on the work her daughters had done and then, placing her own fabric aside, she sat near the window and looked out, watching the dark clouds roll in over the sea and thinking of times and people long gone.

  Uther and Merlin walked through the deep woods north of Caer Guricon, and while the entire household thought they were out hunting, their true purpose was to speak privately. For Merlin had silenced Uther the evening before, bidding him not repeat what he had said until they were sure they were alone.

  The day was dark and ominous, but so far the rain had held off. Uther carried a bow and had a quiver of arrows strung across his back, and Merlin held two javelins. They had briefly spotted a stag earlier, but otherwise their half-hearted attempts at hunting had been fruitless.

  "I know you better than to think I can change your mind, no matter how rash and foolish is your plan." Merlin was the only person alive who would dare call Uther Pendragon foolish. "But I beg you, take care in how you resolve to proceed. If you are determined to pursue this course we must create a pretext. We must spread rumors that Gorlois is plotting against you."

  Uther turned to face Merlin and let out a deep breath. "I know of no plots."

  "No.” Merlin sighed softly. "In fact, Gorlois, to my surprise, has honored every commitment he has made. I suspect he initially planned treachery, but then he became too fearful to challenge you. But we must not have the others believe that you repaid his loyalty by murdering him because you coveted his wife - the wife you yourself gave him."

  Uther had a puzzled look on his face. "You would have us lie and falsely accuse him?"

  Merlin's face bore an expression of dark amusement. "Come to terms with what you intend, Uther. You resolve to murder a man so you may steal his wife, yet you hesitate at lying and plotting? This is an evil plan no matter how we proceed; only ill shall come of it. But if you insist on taking this course we must use every tool to limit the damage."

  Uther considered Merlin's words, and he pondered how far he would go to make Igraine his. "I will do whatever I must, Merlin."

  "Then we must be creative and play our parts well, for failure is like to destroy all you have wrought."

  "The others have never liked Gorlois." Uther spoke plainly, though there was a small hitch in his voice. Deep down, he knew he was trying to justify his intended actions. "Indeed, many resisted recognizing his kingship, for they believe he is of inferior lineage. They will incline to believe his treachery. I need your help, Merlin, but with it or no, I am resolved to take Igraine. Will you aid me, old friend?"

  Merlin was silent for a brief moment. He could see the madness in his friend, and he knew Uther was beyond listening to reason. He would proceed no matter what Merlin did, and without his help all would know that Uther had slain one of the kings because he lusted after his wife. Within a year, the kingdoms would again be at war.

  Merlin looked glumly at Uther. "I will help you, but I beg you to reconsider, though I know it to be futile." Merlin wasn't at all certain that the fraud they intended to perpetrate would succeed, but he resolved he must try. When it was clear Uther was not going to respond, Merlin continued. "We must carefully create the accusation and send a summons to Tintagel commanding Gorlois to appear to answer the charges. Likely he will refuse, outraged at the false accusation. This shall be your justification to invade Cornwall."

  "And if he does surrender himself? Have you one of you potions that will make him confess publicly?"

  Merlin frowned and when he spoke his tone was dark and ominous. "It is black art you seek now, my friend, and such is never without a price."

  Uther exhaled sharply, an annoyed look on his face. "Spare me your riddles, Merlin. Have you what I need?"

  Merlin sighed and answered simply. "Yes."

  "Good.” Uther snapped his response, and he trod forward, as if his interest in the hunt had been momentarily renewed.

  Merlin followed behind his friend, silent but deep in thought and very troubled. I am losing you, Uther, he thought sadly. You are going down a dark road, and I fear you will allow none to deter you. Always shall you be my friend, yet now must I look to what will follow you. An heir now is more important than ever. I will help you free Igraine, but the cost is like to be more than you now comprehend. Forgive me, my friend.

  The heralds rode forth from Caer Guricon, bound for Tintagel Castle and the strongholds of the other kings of Britannia. The monarchs were ordered to make themselves ready to travel to Caer Guricon, for King Gorlois was accused of conspiring with Vortigern's son, Vortimer, and the Saxons to seize the high kingship.

  The proclamation was signed by Uther Pendragon, but it had been written, every word of it, by Merlin. It is with deep sadness that High King Uther must call the assembled kings of Britannia to hear evidence and pass judgment on Gorlois, King of Cornwall on charges of high treason. So it began, and it went on in excruciating detail to list a series of offenses that, if proven, would warrant deposition and execution. The document was beautifully worded and carefully constructed, and virtually every word was a fabrication.

  The proclamation was greeted with surprise by most, for ten years had passed without any unrest in the land, and conspiracy was now unlooked for. But few of the kings thought well of Gorlois and, indeed, many of them were secretly pleased at the prospect of his downfall. All responded with messages of support and promises to do as King Uther bade them. Gorlois would be tried by his fellow kings, and his guilt would be proven or disproven.

  In Tintagel the parchment was received with shock and anger, for Gorlois had, in fact, done nothing at all. Though he despised Uther Pendragon, he had been totally loyal both during and after the war. In truth, he would have betrayed Uther if he'd had the opportunity, but the high king was strong, and fear had stayed Gorlois' hand all these years. A lengthy response was hastily drafted, expressing outrage at the accusations and declaring Gorlois' innocence. It was sent by courier to Caer Guricon and to every court in Britannia.

  Merlin, no stranger to complex manipulations, urged Uther to bide his time and repeat his demand that Gorlois present himself. Indeed, he had been so ordered in the first proclamation, and he was therefore in violation of the high king's edict. But while he had not come to Caer Guricon as he was commanded to do, he had responded to the summons respectfully and in great detail.

  "Patience will help to put the other kings at ease, Uther" Merlin was beseeching his old friend. "If you move too swiftly it will create unease and suspicion."

  But Uther Pendragon was not a man to heed counsels of caution, and having decided on his course of action, he was determined to proceed without delay. "Igraine has been a prisoner in that hateful castle for far too long. It is long past time I finish this. I will march on Cornwall and take Tintagel Castle."

  They sat in the great hall at Caer Guricon, as they had so many times before. Long into the night they spoke, but try as he might, Merlin could not sway Uther. Next to them sat plates of food, picked at but largely uneaten, and a flagon of ale, still full, now stale and flat. Servants would have cleared the plates and refreshed the ale, but Uther had angrily ordered them out hours earlier. They cowered in the kitchen, uneasy at not serving the king but too scared to risk his temper again.

  Uther loved Merlin above all other men, and he thought of him as a father and a friend, an advisor and a confidante. Though no force on Earth would sway him from his intended path, still he sat and listened to Merlin's arguments, when he would have sent anyone else fleeing angry taunts and thrown pewter. When the old man finally gave up and ceased his debates, Uther slowly rose, his joints stiff and slow from
long hours in his chair. "Merlin, my oldest friend and ally, I know that you do not agree with me in this, but I must do what I must do. Give me your aid in this endeavor, as you have in all other things, for though I will still proceed without it if need be, I am grateful for your cunning and support."

  Merlin looked sadly back into the fire and softly sighed. "You shall have my support, Uther, as you always have. And always shall."

  "Thank you, old friend." The king turned away, the sound of his boots echoing on the hard granite floor as we walked toward the corridor that led to his chamber.

  Merlin sat unmoving. His eyes, unseen at that moment by any other, betrayed a deep sadness as they stared into the flames. Indeed, my friend, he thought, I shall support you, though you do not imagine the form that shall take. Resolved you are to seek your doom, and no power I have can stop that. If you are to take this step then Igraine becomes vital, for an heir is like to be the only way to save your house.

  Merlin could see what lay ahead, and he knew the part he must play. Many kings had he served, yet he had loved none as he did Uther Pendragon. Long he sat alone in the hall, thinking of days past and feeling the weight of his many years, until the shafts of dawn light pierced the clerestory windows and brightened the darkness. Finally, achingly, he rose and made his way slowly to his chamber.

  Though he had retired very late, Uther Pendragon rose early and stormed around the castle issuing one command after another. "Bring me Kelven and Eldol at once." The servants and soldiers hurried to obey the king's orders, and all of Caer Guricon was in an uproar. Servants brought breakfast into the great hall, but Uther ignored the food, taking only a cup half-filled with ale as he bellowed orders to his assembled advisors.