by Jay Allan
Uther's tent was on the far side of the camp, and by the time he arrived the battle was over. The two ballistae burned brightly, giant torches lighting the area where the fight had occurred, an area now littered with dead and wounded. As he approached, a great wail began to rise from the warriors around the stricken engines. A warrior staggered around from behind the great fire. "He is down. King Leodegrance is down. He is gravely wounded."
Uther ran to the man and grabbed him roughly on the shoulders. "Where is he? Where is Leodegrance?" His voice was harsh and urgent.
Before the dazed warrior could answer, Uther saw a small group of men clustered about a figure lying on the ground. Shoving the distraught man out of his way, he ran to the spot and saw the stricken king of Cameliard. A javelin had pierced his chest, and his tunic was soaked with blood.
Logan, one of his captains, knelt beside him. He saw Uther and looked up. "I bade him wear his cuirass, but he was too fatigued, and he would don naught but this soft leather." The man, a grizzled warrior who had fought many battles alongside Uther and Leodegrance, was choked with tears. "It is mortal, King Uther. King Leodegrance is dying."
Uther pushed everyone aside and knelt over his stricken friend. "Leo, it is Uther. Can you hear me?" His voice was broken and strained with emotion.
Leodegrance turned his head and looked up at Uther. His eyes were glistening and unfocused, and his lips were slick with blood. He struggled to speak, and when he did his words were bitter. "Curse this war of yours, for only ill shall come of it." He coughed and tried to spit the blood from his mouth, but it just dribbled down his cheek. "What has become of my friend, Uther Pendragon? Down what wrong path have you turned my old companion. God had judged me for following you. I pray he has mercy on you."
He let out a great breath and faded away. Uther commanded the unconscious king be borne to his tent, and he ordered his own healer sent to his friend's side, though he knew it was hopeless. Uther stood there long after Leodegrance had been carried away, and for a moment he was uncertain. I have been the cause of this, he thought. No man more just has ever lived than Leodegrance. It is my fault. Forgive me, my friend.
But soon his rage began to build. "Cursed Gorlois," he whispered, his voice dripping with hate. "Leodegrance is a better man than you or I. You shall not outlive him." He strode purposefully back toward the center of the camp. "Kelven! Eldol! Rouse the men. We take Tintagel Castle at dawn."
Merlin could hear the sounds of the army forming for the final assault, but he ignored it as he looked down at Leodegrance. Usually impassive and unreadable, his eyes betrayed great sadness. "This entire endeavor is evil, and I fear only more ill shall come of it." He stared at the wounded king. Soon the death struggle would begin.
For long Merlin stood there, having banished all others from the tent. Finally, he made a decision. "No. This is too much injustice. You are a man of untainted honor, perhaps the only one I have met in my long lifetime. I shall not allow you to die in this sorry affair."
Merlin breathed deeply, for what he intended to do was not easy, and it would drain him greatly. "Have I even the strength remaining to do this?" He whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. Slowly, he pulled back the cloth of Leodegrance's tunic , exposing the terrible wound. His men had broken the javelin, but they had not dared to remove the point from the king's chest. Indeed, thought Merlin, the blood loss will be enormous. I must be careful.
He reached into the pockets of his robe and pulled out two vials. One, which held a clear liquid, he placed against Leodegrance's lips, carefully pouring some into his mouth and raising his head so the fluid would slide down his throat. "This will slow your body, my friend. You will seem almost as if death has taken you, but you shall be only in restful slumber, and it shall greatly slow the bleeding."
He pulled the cork from the second vial, and almost immediately the room was filled with a pleasing scent, and the smell of blood and death was driven from the room. Merlin looked at the vial, which held but a few drops of thick, pink liquid, and he spoke softly to himself. "Many years has it been since I have seen the plant that bore this nectar, and I fear that these few droplets are all that remain in this world. I pray this be enough, for this worthy man deserves not this mean death."
Merlin grabbed the end of the javelin point and pulled hard. It resisted at first then came free, leaving a large hole in Leodegrance's chest. Blood welled up from the wound, though far less than would have normally. Merlin poured the droplets from the vial into the wound and then bound it tightly in clean cloth. Then he sat next to Leodegrance, his hand over the wound, and he began to chant softly, calling on the last traces of powers and forces that had all but passed from this world.
"Rouse yourselves men, for today we take Tintagel Castle. Therein lies a traitor, a foul creature who compounds his treason by sending assassins in the night to fell brave Leodegrance." Uther was mounted upon his great black steed, and he rode along the line as he spoke. "Let nothing stop you today. Many battles have we fought, brave warriors, and much glory have you reaped."
The men responded, for Uther was a great warrior and an inspiring leader. But the cheers were subdued, not what they had been ten years before when the mere site of Uther cause hysteria in the ranks. The old magic was gone, replaced with a grudging sense of duty. They knew they were here because of some treachery Gorlois had allegedly committed, but they didn't relish fighting against old allies who had stood with them in the war against Vortigern. They couldn't understand why they had been rushed here before they could properly prepare and rally all their numbers. They were loyal to Uther and would follow him where he commanded, but they were troubled. Something seemed somehow...wrong.
"Follow me now men, and we shall end this fight today! We shall enforce our justice and return to hearth and home, wife and family." With that Uther dismounted - horses were of little use in attacking a fortress - and, sword pointed forward, he ran toward the partial breach.
Their king's rally overcame their doubts and, with one massive shout, the army surged forward, following Uther to victory or death. The defenders stood upon the battlements, and when the attackers reached the base of the walls they hurled javelins and dropped stones and vats of oil upon them. The attackers placed their scaling ladders and climbed up, seeking to attain the battlements. Many were repulsed, their ladders overturned or oil poured on the men as they climbed. But in two places the troops reached the top, and the first men to seize the positions held fast while their comrades streamed up and over the crenellated walls.
At Leodegrance's breach, the wall had partially collapsed, and Uther was the first up and over, followed by Kelven and Eldol leading the pick of the men of Powys. They crashed into the defenders and the battle was joined. Uther fought as he had never done before, and around him lay the bodies of every enemy who dared approach. At first the defenders held, bolstered by the men on the walls above throwing down stones and javelins. But more and more of Uther's men poured through the gap, and soon the Cornish warriors were overwhelmed and driven back.
Along the wall to the south, Caradoc's men had taken the battlements and one of the towers, and they were even now streaming into the courtyard, pursuing the routed defenders. Tintagel Castle was doomed, with attackers pouring through the defenses at multiple locations.
Uther ran forward toward the main keep, Gorlois' residence. Four Cornish warriors burst out of the entrance and ran to the king. Kelven ran after him, with a group of Powys troops, but before he could get there, Uther had slain all four attackers and pushed his way inside. Kelven swore under his breath and raced to follow his king into Gorlois' last bastion.
"Get the girls ready. We must leave here now." Gorlois spoke harshly to his wife, and he slammed the door as he left the room without another word.
Igraine knew something had been happening for weeks now, and for the last few days it had been obvious the castle was under siege. But Gorlois had kept her locked in her room and would tell her nothing, b
ecoming angry if she even asked. She still had bruises from the last time she had tried.
She did not want to leave, preferring to take her chances with an unknown enemy than to flee with her monster of a husband. But she knew Gorlois would never allow her to remain, and she would only earn another beating if she insisted. Besides, she would never take such a chance with her daughters.
She began packing a few items into a small leather bag. "Anna, Morgan. Come here, girls. We are going on a trip." She couldn't understand. If Cornwall were under attack by some invader, would not Uther as high king come to aid Gorlois? My God, she thought frantically, could some enemy have already defeated my beloved Uther? She couldn't imagine that was the case, for Uther was the greatest warrior in Britannia, and his victory in the last war had been total. But now she fretted for him and longed to know what was happening.
"Anna, Morgan. Come to me now." She opened the door to the room where the girls slept and peered inside. With a start she saw that the door leading into the corridor was ajar. Hurrying across the room she ran out into the hall. "Anna, Morgan. Where are you, girls?" Her voice was shrill with worry.
She heard the sounds of fighting and then Anna calling to her. "Mother, the men are fighting. Father is fighting. Morgan is there." Her oldest daughter came bounding up the stairs and ran to Igraine, who threw her arms around the girl.
"Go back to your room, Anna." Igraine let go of the girl, who stood there next to her mother without moving. "Now, Anna. Back to your room." Igraine ran to the end of the hall and down the circular stairs. The sounds of fighting were closer now. She almost tripped and fell, but caught herself in time.
Igraine rounded the turn and came out on the landing. She stopped with a gasp. Morgan was on the other side of the room, pressed against the wall, and in between there were dead and wounded men. In the center of the room was Gorlois with two of his men fighting with an enemy. A moment later she shrieked. They were fighting Uther.
As she was watching, Uther ducked and sliced the throat of one of Gorlois' warriors, leaving a spray of blood hanging in the air for an instant as the man fell to the floor. The other warrior moved to attack, but Uther sidestepped his swing, which impacted hard on the floor. He tried to recover his balance, but too late. Uther has shoved his blade under his shoulder and into the chest cavity.
Gorlois leaned forward to attack, but Uther pulled his blade out of his last victim and turned to face his enemy, just as Kelven and three warriors came running onto the landing from the stairs opposite Igraine. They moved toward Gorlois, but Uther waved them off. "Let us finish this, Gorlois."
The king of Cornwall stood motionless, paralyzed with fear. There was death in Uther's eyes, and Gorlois new there was no escape. His heart was pounding, and his mind was wild with panic, for he knew this was the end. But then Uther saw Igraine standing against the wall by the stairs and his eyes fixed upon her. Seeing his chance in Uther's distraction, Gorlois lunged forward with his sword.
"Sire!" It was Kelven's panicked cry that warned the king. Uther's gaze shifted just in time. He moved aside and Gorlois' blade pierced his shoulder rather than his chest. The cold steel drove through his jerkin and into the flesh. Without so much as a shout of pain, Uther turned to face Gorlois, his sword poised to strike. When the blow came, it was driven home with such force that Gorlois' blade was knocked from his grasp and his arm was broken.
The king of Cornwall sank to his knees, shouting in pain and shaking with fear. "No!" shrieked Morgan as Uther raised his blade one more time. The child ran from where she had stood against the wall, trying to reach her father. But the killing strike landed before she could reach him, and she got there in time for him to fall to the floor at her feet, his blood splattering on her dress.
Igraine ran to Morgan and took the screaming girl into her arms, but she looked up at Uther. There he stood, his arm covered in blood from the terrible shoulder wound. Igraine stood in shock, and she longed to run to his arms. His tunic was torn and she could see something hanging around his neck. It was a ring on a chain. A ring she recognized immediately. Her eyes filled with tears as she realized what had happened. She was a prisoner no more. Her true love had come for her.
"Igraine." Uther's voice was gentle, soothing. "Comfort the child. For we shall have all the time we have been denied. I am here for you, and never again shall we be parted."
Chapter Nine
The Death of a King
493 AD
Caer Guricon, Capital of the Kingdom of Powys
"Leodegrance, you old dog!" Uther was jubilant. "Far too long has it been, my friend. Far too long." He wore a cheerful grin as he walked across the room and embraced his friend.
"Did you think I would let the birth of my best friend's first son go unheralded? Indeed, I am here bearing gifts, for soon all of Britannia will be sending treasures, and I would be the first. My heartfelt congratulations to you. Long you waited for your Igraine, my friend, and greatly have you both paid in pain and anguish. Now that she is your queen, and your son sleeps in his royal nursery, tell me, are you truly happy?"
Uther smiled broadly. "Yes, my friend, I am happy now, for Igraine and my son are most important to me of all things. And friends, like you, Leo. I feared that I had lost your friendship over that whole Gorlois affair. Indeed, I feared we had lost you entirely to that dreadful wound."
Leodegrance frowned slightly. "I still disapprove of your actions, Uther. I will not lie and tell you otherwise. But I, more than anyone, know how long you hurt and how desperately you ached for Igraine. Gods, it was all you could speak about even years ago, when we traveled to Italia. Truly, what happened to the two of you was a tragedy. And, certainly, Gorlois was a pig and no great loss to the world." Leodegrance paused briefly, and his frown gave way to a look of sadness. "But still, it was a black deed."
"Indeed." Uther looked sadly at his friend. "And now they call me wife-stealer and worse. After the victory over Vortigern they spoke of me with reverence and respect. Now they mock me and call me names they think do not reach my ears, and plots fester in every dark corner. Merlin warned me thus, yet still would I do what I have done."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Leodegrance spoke. "Has there been any word of Merlin?"
Uther looked down at the ground, his mood somber. "I have heard naught from Merlin since the day Tintagel Castle fell. It can only have been he who healed your hurt, my friend, for your wound was mortal. I had the field of battle searched and searched again, for fear that he had gotten caught in the fighting and had fallen. But all for naught. He has just vanished."
Leodegrance frowned for a moment, then smiled and clapped his hand on Uther's back. "Enough of such talk, for this is a happy occasion and I have gifts to give. For you, my friend, I have brought apples. The apples from Cameliard's first harvest are the best in Britannia, and I recall a certain prince of Powys who was quite fond of them at one time."
Uther laughed heartily. "Yes, my friend, I am still quite fond of apples, particularly the early ones when they still have their snap. An apple should bite back. You have my thanks."
Leodegrance smiled. "For Igraine I have brought many gifts, for she is far prettier than you, Uther."
They both laughed again, and Uther filled two goblets from a large flagon, handing one to Leodegrance. Uther raised his cup. "To old friends." He paused, then continued somberly. "And to fallen brothers."
"To old friends and fallen brothers." Leodegrance drank deeply, then placed the empty goblet on the table. "For your son, I have brought but a single gift. Though I know others will bring wagons of treasure, I resolved to give something of greater meaning. Long has this been in my family, and it is said to have brought divine protection to any who have worn it. Many challenges will your son face, my dearest friend, and I would that he wore this amulet. May it protect him and give him strength through all his trials." He held up a small talisman of finely worked silver. It was excellent work, and ancient, but on it, newly
inscribed, was the name, Arthur.
Uther was touched, for he recognized the amulet; Leodegrance's father had worn it every time he went into battle. "I am without words, Leo. This is a treasure of your house. 'Tis a greater gift than a wagon filled with gold and jewels." Uther warmly embraced his friend. "Let us go inside, for we have much to discuss."
"Indeed, Uther." Leodegrance was suddenly very serious. "There is unrest among the kings. They fear that what happened to Gorlois could happen to them. They whisper about Igraine and say she bewitched you and you slew Gorlois to steal his wife. There are plots against you, and I fear there is great danger."
Uther looked at his friend and smiled weakly. "Indeed, my friend. I know much of this. Alas, for I would have Merlin's counsel now." He put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "But we shall talk of such later. For now, let me be the gracious host to an old friend. Let us talk of Italia and our times on the road."
Uther sat alone in the great hall. It was very late, and he was troubled and deep in thought. The fire had almost burned down to the remnants of one last log. A cup of ale sat forgotten on the table next to the remains of two apples - the last of the batch Leodegrance had brought.
The king of Cameliard had stayed for a week, and the two of them had talked of many things. Uther was happy that they had renewed their friendship, for they had seen little of each other these past few years, and there had been tension between them. But Leodegrance had also confirmed what Uther already knew but did not want to believe. There was worse than dissension in the land; there were already plots against him. He knew not who was involved, nor did Leodegrance, for he was known to be one of Uther's closest friends, and he would not be included in any treasonous cabals.