The Shadow of a King (Shadowland Book 2)

by C. M. Gray

  Warriors were patrolling the lower ramparts and Uther noticed that the main gate had already been closed and its locking beam set, leaving only the smaller gate for access. His men, under Sir Ector, would be ever vigilant upon this night, for no evil spirit nor indeed, could any Saxon be allowed to catch them unawares just because they were celebrating.

  'It's beautiful, isn't it?'

  The question crashed through his musings and Uther flinched in surprise and took a step away before stopping himself. The voice seemed to have come from nowhere, indeed, until that moment he had thought himself to be quite alone. Peering into the shadows, he saw that someone was standing closer to the wall, but it didn't look to be an evil spirit, although he couldn't be sure… no, it was a woman… he hadn't noticed her before. He felt his throat constrict as he realised that fate had brought him into the presence of Igraine, he swallowed.

  'I always love the early part of the evening,' her voice was little more than a whisper, just another slight breeze upon the twilit air. 'When the stars begin to make themselves known with the first of their light. It's as if they have been waiting for the sun to hide beyond the hills and then, once they begin to feel safe, they peek out through the darkness and reveal themselves… it is quite magical, especially so tonight, on the Eve of Samhain.'

  'My Lady, you took me quite by surprise, you are here alone? It is not seemly to be alone and unescorted. Do you not fear the spirits that will be walking amongst us this night?' He stepped closer to where she stood, a shadow amongst the shadows. 'Most people have a certain respect, if not a fear for the Eve of Samhain. They will cling to the firelight until the first glimpse of dawn has chased your stars away. Tonight, my Lady, it is dangerous to stay within the shadows.'

  He heard her laugh and saw her hand move up to her mouth. 'Why King, Uther, do you really believe that tonight spirits, sprites and ghosts will pass through from beyond and walk beside us?' Her tone carried her smile and was slightly mocking. It was as if she were teasing a child and not talking to her King. 'I must confess that in all my years, I have yet to see any of these spirits, good… or bad.'

  'Indeed, my Lady, yet I still think it best to hold with the Druid teachings this Eve. It is never wise to tempt the spirits and, truth be told, I have always enjoyed this celebration upon the first night of Samhain. It is the chance to commune with our dead and has always been a time of good memories for me. An opportunity to think that perhaps those I have loved and honoured have not been taken from us forever, so utterly and rudely removed from existence.' He stood beside her and looked back out across the celebrations below. 'As we always do, we have set places at the feast for many of our departed friends, those who have crossed into the Shadowland within this last year, Cunobelin of the Trinovantes, who lost his life upon our quest is amongst them. We shall honour them, welcome them to our table, boast of their deeds and seek their council. And I admit to you that since I was a small child, I have been among those who also believe that, on this one night of the year, there will also be more evil spirits lurking in the shadows waiting to make their mischief and so I take care. Some will be spirits, but others will merely be men up to no good, waiting to blame the evil spirits for their wrongdoings.' Uther turned his gaze to the shadowy figure beside him and smiled. 'It is so hard to see you in this light. Perhaps, my Lady, I am speaking with an ugly, mischievous sprite and not with the most comely, Lady Igraine, should I be prepared to defend myself?' He heard the soft sound of her laughter once again and saw her glance back into the hall.

  'Do not be distressed, King Uther, I am no sprite, yet I do fear that I have arrived at your celebrations a little less comely than when you saw me earlier today. With your permission, I shall keep to myself in the shadows. I have no wish to spoil the occasion. I shall not be taking part this year, but shall remain at a distance and then await your permission to leave with my people.' She turned as the sound of cheering erupted from below. Lit by the flickering light of the fires, dancers were leaping and turning to the sound of pipes while those watching laughed and clapped their hands in time to the deep rhythm of the drums and tabors. As Igraine leant out over the stockade wall, her face left the shadow and was momentarily revealed in the light. To Uther, she still appeared as beautiful as when he had first set his eyes upon her earlier that same day when she had moved through the crowd and he had felt his heart struck. But then she turned and he saw that the other side of her face wore a livid bruise and her left eye was swollen, almost closed.

  'My Lady! What has happened? You have been injured, who would do this?' He felt a surge of anger flood through him, and he clenched his fists. 'If you were attacked, I shall make them pay, whoever it might be. You are my guest within this fortress and as such should enjoy your King's protection.' He reached out and took her by the shoulders, turning her towards him and bringing her face once more into the light, but she struggled and tried to back away.

  'Please, King Uther, no.' She pulled further back to the safety of the shadows. 'It was a family disagreement, an accident, a misunderstanding for which my Lord has since offered his apologies. The fault for what befell me was mine and is mine alone to bear. Please… just leave me and rejoin the feast, you will soon be missed and…'

  'You are wife to the Duc of Cornwall, to Gerlois?' Uther dropped his arms and stepped back. 'He beat you… I had heard that this happened, but had not realised that it was you of whom they spoke.'

  'My husband is Duc Gerlois, and yes, he was most upset that I chose to leave his side and walk alone earlier today. I wanted to be amongst the people arriving and to see and enjoy the dancers, so after some time in his company, I slipped away without an escort. He was also angry that I allowed our children to leave his side, but since he departed on the quest the children have made friends here, as children will, and they wanted to join them in their games. Now that he has returned I sense he has changed for the worse.

  'This isn't the first time he has beaten you is it?'

  'No, certainly not the first, he has struck me often, as any husband will to keep his wife to his order.'

  'That is not an excuse to hit a lady of rank, not with such force. Nor to hit someone whom he loves.'

  She laughed, the sound soft and musical. 'He does not love me, King Uther. I don't think Gerlois loves anyone or anything, certainly not me. Perhaps trade, he loves to trade. Anyway, now that he has returned from your quest he seems so agitated all the while. He would have his family standing beside him at all times. King Uther, I know something untoward took place upon the quest, something that has caused him to become angry and distressed and most eager to leave, but we have not had the opportunity to speak of whatever happened yet.' She sighed and looked down at the fires and the dancers. 'You must know that he is not such a bad person, King Uther, it is just that my husband can be a complicated man and has a terrible temper. He would prefer, and indeed deserves, a more dutiful and compliant wife than I am able to be. Our union was arranged by my father, who took much-needed coin for giving me over. I confess it has been a very suitable match for my family, and another trade deal for Gerlois, who gained much land and holdings from my father. Yet the arrangement has possibly been too restricting for me. I was spoiled. Once our match was made, I was allowed to occupy the fortress at Tintagel, the least favoured of Gerlois homes as there is so little trade to be done. Before this, I was living in my father's hall in the village of Tamara. My father was the chieftain of the Cornovii tribe and I am his only child, so I was an important girl,' - there was a smile in her voice and then she sighed - 'but he was old. He had debts to Gerlois and others and so he sold me along with his right to rule over the Cornovii. When I was young, I could go where I pleased, no escorts. I knew everyone and all knew me. Tamara is a beautiful village on the banks of a river. I remember riding on the raft that travellers would be taken across on, the ferryman was my friend. It was a nice place to be a child and when I grew a little older, I trained with the warriors.' She sighed turned to face him.
'Let's just say I enjoyed a freedom in Tamara that is now more difficult to find,' - she leant a little closer and added in a near whisper - 'it is often a little difficult to live up to my husband's rules and standards.' She gazed at Uther silently for a moment, and he felt she was judging how much more she could confess. They were still in shadow, yet his eyes had adjusted, and he could now see some detail of her face as well as the darkness of her bruises. She came to her decision because she quietly confided: 'I am afraid after all these years he has little or no affection for me, I am as was an incumbent product from his trade. I often toy with the notion of disappearing into the crowd and never again fearing that he will beat me, or perhaps… no, I have said too much, none of this is your concern and I have overstepped my place, please accept my apologies.' Her hand brushed his arm as she withdrew, but he stepped forward and held her, feeling emboldened as she allowed him so close. He could smell her hair and feel her breathing, the warmth of her body against his.

  'Perhaps our meeting was fated, Igraine.' He gazed down at her as she leant silently against him. 'I would take you from him, make you mine. I wish to protect you, to hold you always. I…'

  'Igraine!' The shout came from just a short distance away, and the couple quickly stepped apart, with Uther turning to watch the dancers and Igraine withdrawing once more into the shadows. Uther glanced back and saw Duc Gerlois walking uncertainly towards him. The Duc was showing signs that he had been drinking heavily, he held a clay cup, carelessly spilling its contents as he walked, his head turning left and right, searching for his wife. Face flushed; he wore the familiar scowl set rigidly in place, but then his eyebrows rose as he recognised his King and he stopped short. The clay cup fell and broke as it hit the ground spilling a pool of the remaining liquid at the Duc's feet.

  Uther began walking towards him, a smile set upon his face. 'Duc Gerlois, I was watching the people dance and taking a little air, but now I find there is a chill to the evening, and so I shall rejoin the celebration within the hall, please, join me.' Uther held out his arm to encourage the Duc to walk in his direction, and Gerlois did, but not before casting a frowning eye over the area where Uther had been standing.

  'Have you seen my wife, King Uther? But then, how could you, you have not even been introduced to the bitch, so…' He shrugged.

  'I am sure you will find that she is in the hall somewhere searching for you.' Uther took the Duc's arm and steered him back towards the sounds of feasting. 'I was told that you had some trouble, some differences with her earlier today?'

  The Duc turned to Uther and studied him with red-rimmed eyes, the frown now back in place. 'She is wilful and needs to be disciplined. She can be like a child, wandering the paths upon Tintagel and even going down into the village without proper escort. It is not right, and if you had met her, you would understand.'

  'I hope that when I do take a wife, then I will not have need to beat her.' Uther glared at the Duc, and Gerlois scowled back.

  'I follow you as my King, and I followed you across the seas on the Druid's fool errand, King Uther, much to my regret, but I do not have to listen when you tell me how to treat my wife. The bitch is headstrong and deliberately irritating. I think I know best how to deal with her and do not need your advice.' He turned on his heels and walked back towards the hall.

  Uther glanced towards the shadows where he knew Igraine had been watching and listening, and then made his own way back to the hall, breathing deeply, his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to release the surge of anger that had risen within him and attempted to think rationally. As he entered the hall, he was in time to see the Duc shouting at one of his men, then snatching a horn of ale. He watched as he swayed, drinking deeply, the ale dribbling down through his beard. When he had drained it, he threw it down and then turned to glare at Uther with a look of hatred and contempt that was barely contained.

  Uther avoided him, choosing instead to join Sir Ector and Merlyn where they were already eating from a wooden platter heaped with a variety of different meats. Taking a large wooden pitcher of ale, Uther emptied its contents into first Sir Ector, then Merlyn's proffered horns and finally into a drinking horn of his own, and then banged the heavy pitcher down onto the table to draw the attention of those in the room. Cries of 'Silence for the King,' accompanied hushing sounds and expectant murmurs as all turned towards him.

  'My friends, warriors of Britain. I welcome you all to the fortress of Pendragon and to this, our celebration of Samhain.' A cheer erupted, and Uther waited for it to calm. 'We accepted the challenge, we completed the Druid's quest, and we have come home to be amongst our own to celebrate our victory.' There was another cheer and loud drumming as feet stamped upon the floor and fists banged down upon the tables. Uther smiled around at his audience. 'We survived the seas and then we finally survived the Druids and their games…' He turned and raised his ale horn towards Merlyn, who smiled and raised a hand. 'We survived Uath the Stranger and his challenge… although a good man also died. Cunobelin, whom we honour at this table.' He raised his horn to the empty place set for the fallen hero, and a murmur filled the hall. Uther saw people turn in the direction of Duc Gerlois, who still stood glowering and flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol. Before the Duc could say anything or another in the hall should choose the moment to throw a challenge, Uther pushed on.

  'We were once many tribes, scattered across this land of ours, kept apart by our Roman masters…' Angry calls and cries of defiance filled the hall, and Uther allowed the anger to build before going on. 'The Romans left, and then the Saxons came to call, seeking to become our new masters, but we rose and became one people, we united to become the Brittani of old, we became Britons.' Shouts and cheering filled the hall as Uther drank from his ale horn. After taking a long draught, he lowered the horn, wiped his mouth upon his sleeve and waited a few moments for the noise to subside.

  'We must continue to be strong if we wish to banish these invaders from our lands. We must continue to be one people and show them that there is no future for them here.' Calls of agreement filled the air, echoing down from the rafters above them. 'Help the Saxons understand that this is our land, as decreed by the Gods of old.' He stopped talking and allowed the noise to lessen a little, waited, watching his closest men, the Lords, Chiefs and Elders of the tribes. 'This was no idle quest that sent us to Erin. When the Druids erect the stones at Stanenges, it will allow the spirits of those slain to seek rest, a chance to cross the great river of the dead and enter the Shadowland. It will also bring a new life to our warriors, new strength to their spear arms and a new future for our tribes.' A great roar arose within the hall as the warriors celebrated with their King.

  'Before I allow you to return to your eating and to your drinking, let me ask you to take heart in the family of our union and to join with me again in the building of our future. Look to your brothers across these tables, look across the fields, rivers and streams of our land and seek your fellow Britons. Be clear in your friendship and in our alliance. Seek to gather those around you who would bring you strength, aid and friendship and offer them the same in return.' Uther stopped and gazed about the hall, allowing his eyes to come to rest upon the scowling Duc Gerlois. 'You have the birthright and are the strength, the law and the power to lead our people. Each of you within this hall hold positions of great responsibility. Treat your warriors, your villagers, your friends and especially your family well, do not bring them needless pain or suffering, for how you treat them reflects upon you. I salute you warriors of Britain.' Uther held up his ale horn and called, 'For Britain!'

  As those within the hall returned the salute and then went back to the important task of eating and drinking, Uther glanced to Gerlois, who he saw was still standing, glowering drunkenly at him.

  'I don't think you have made a friend with Duc Gerlois, Uther; he seems a little… upset.' Merlyn poured more ale into Uther's drinking horn and pulled the King around to look at him. 'You shouldn't antagonise him
Uther; Duc Gerlois has been changed by our quest. He was not the most pleasant of people before we took to the boats, but now… he suffered much, and he will no doubt cause those under him to suffer in turn. Let him cool down and by the next meeting of the tribes, as we sit around your wonderful round table, much of what took place will have been forgotten.'

  'He is not a good man, and he is weak.'

  'That may well be, yet he leads one of our most wealthy and important tribes.' Merlyn's face creased into a frown when he saw how angry Uther was.

  'He fled the challenge of the Stranger, killed Cunobelin…'

  'There were witnesses, Uther… Gerlois cannot be blamed for the death of Cunobelin and as for the challenge he…'

  'He beats his wife…'

  'That is no crime, to beat a wife. A wife must know her place. You cannot…'

  'She was the girl… earlier today. Her name is Igraine, I… I met her.'

  'Oh, Uther, this is ill-advised, do not make an enemy of Gerlois of the Cornovii. You are the one who can, and is, uniting the tribes, something many thought could never happen. Please do not begin throwing all that away because a girl took a beating. Forget her, lead your people and you will soon find another girl, preferably unmarried and not yet a mother, to make your Queen… please.' Merlyn held his ale horn up, an invitation for Uther to agree with him, but Uther ignored the offer and glanced back in search of the Duc, but Gerlois was nowhere to be seen.

  'My King, four warriors at the main gate, were overpowered, one of them was injured. The Duc and his party have fled, we think they left some time before first light.'

  Uther sat up from where he had lain in a deep, yet troubled sleep only moments before and rubbed at his eyes; he felt groggy and thick headed from too much ale the night before. He glanced around, past the warrior standing beside him, and saw weak light seeping through the thatch above, indicating that it was indeed morning. The fire close by crackled and a flame rose into the new sticks the warrior must have placed upon it before waking him. He shivered and drew the sleeping fur higher and thought for a moment.