by Jack Whyte
He was satisfied that he had thought of everything long before he reached the tent where Ygraine awaited him. and thankful that he had dismissed her guards earlier that day. He was already tugging at the buckles on the straps of his armour as he entered, but he stopped short just inside the entrance, taken completely by surprise.
The interior of the large, leather-walled tent, after the brightness of the late-afternoon sun, was dark and yet paradoxically brilliant in places with blinding light. Bright shafts of solid light streamed through three Haps propped open in the roof panels, making the rest of the enclosed space seem much darker than it was. Then, while his sight was still blurred and hampered by the strange effect, he saw the bed that had been made in the centre of the front area of the tent. Squinting and blinking, trying to clear his vision, he saw that Ygraine had spread a heavy leather groundsheet beneath another of woven straw, and on that, side by side, she had laid the two thin palliasses from the cots in either sleeping area. On top of the straw mattresses she had then piled campaign sleeping skins, most of them taken from the tent's four footlockers.
All this he managed to see in the instant before he raised his eyes to look at the Queen, sitting motionless in one of the two chairs beyond the bed. A brilliant column of light at her back threw her almost completely into silhouette, transforming her into a phantasm of light-limned shadows. He could not see what she was wearing, but he could see that she was completely covered, the curves of her body broken up and angled by the drapes of a garment of some kind. She made no move to stand and she said nothing, merely looking at him. He straightened up to his full height, and when he had removed his helmet, he bowed slightly to her, inclining his head at the same time.
"Are you a goddess or a Queen? And if you are a Queen, who made the bed?"
She stood up, and he saw that she was wearing a single loose sheet of some fine fabric, covering her arms and shoulders and falling to the ground behind her. Now that she was standing, the light at her back revealed her fine figure in shadow.
"I made the bed," she said quietly. "And I am neither Queen nor goddess. I am a woman, and those cots are far too narrow."
She released the corners of the material and the sheet dropped away, falling to the ground without a sound and allowing the light from behind her to spill onto the curves of her hips, shoulders and neck.
Uther's eyes were adjusting rapidly to the light by that time and his heart began to race as he looked at her, seeing her clearly perhaps for the first time. In the utter silence of the tent he tried to swallow and found that his mouth had gone completely dry. He tried again, more successfully this time, and then sucked air audibly through his nostrils, holding it in for a count of five before expelling it explosively. He moved to step towards her then, and everything he was wearing seemed to creak loudly, except for the hilt of his short- sword, which clanked against the bottom of his cuirass. He stopped abruptly, clutching at the matched sheaths of his short-sword and dagger to keep them from rattling, realizing that he was ill-prepared to handle her nakedness. She read his expression and smiled, raising her hands and spreading her fingers to cover her breasts.
"I have been waiting for you and thinking of this moment and how I would greet you . . ." Her smile grew wider. "But everything I imagined was completely wrong. Who would have thought you would come back in armour? Do you believe you are in danger here. King Uther? I promise, I will not attack you." She covered both breasts then with one forearm and dropped her other hand to conceal the dark triangle at her centre, shaking her head. "At least, I will not while you are wearing that cold, metal breastplate and all those weapons and belts and buckles."
It seemed to him in the moments that followed that he had forgotten everything he had ever learned about removing armour quickly and efficiently, and he knew even as he was doing it that he would have drawn long spells on punishment duty during his early training for the careless and impatient way he now threw each single piece aside as it came loose. He had never behaved that way before, but then he had never before had such a prize in front of him, taunting him for his slowness.
Freed of his clothing at last, he stepped towards her, for she had made no move to approach him or to help him divest himself of weapons or armour, preferring to stand watching him as he stripped himself down. He felt the slippery, warm pelt of one of the bed- skins beneath his bare foot as he moved to her, and then his confidence evaporated all at once, and he stopped short again, abashed and suddenly awkward, his gaze fixed on her eyes.
She stared back at him, her face a picture of serene, slightly amused dignity. "What is it. King Uther?" Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. "Does your kingship stop short of what it desires? Reach out, sir, and take what is yours."
Slowly, gently, he placed his hands on her waist and pulled her towards him, stooping to her mouth and banishing the image of Merlyn Britannicus and his wife, Deirdre, that sprang instantly into his mind. Her arms came up behind his head, and everything but her mouth was forgotten as the moist warmth of her lips closed over his and she went limp again, simply dropping her dead weight into his arms as she had before. This time, however, he yielded to the slump, allowing the weight of her to pull him down to the bed.
He left her reluctantly before the sun had reached its zenith, making sure that she was escorted discreetly to her own tent.
Much as it pained him, he was obliged to spend some time with his subordinate commanders, infantry, cavalry and bowmen, ensuring that they were all prepared for the following day's march and the campaign it would launch. He met briefly again at the end of the afternoon with Ygraine and Herliss in the King's Tent, Dyllis having been dispatched with young Cavan to find their own amusements, and so comfortable were he and she in their new-found intimacy that they had no trouble at all in concealing it from the veteran Cornish commander.
They discussed the latest developments in their escape plan, and Uther explained to the others exactly what he had told his trooper Nemo. When the main strike force left the following day. Nemo would remain behind in camp with a small holding force of Dragons, to guard the remaining prisoners, the Queen's bodyguard and keep them safe pending Uther's return. Then, within the following few days, Nemo would make a move, along with four hand-picked companions, all five of them apparently suborned by Herliss and rewarded with gold and jewels. They would all five draw night guard duty, and after nightfall, when most of their companions had fallen asleep, they would attack and immobilize the others who stood guard with them. That done, they would next overpower and bind their sleeping comrades one at a time, before freeing Herliss and the Queen's bodyguard.
Uther assured them again that the escape would be smooth, since none of his men would offer any resistance when the lime came for them to be "overcome." Alasdair Mac lain and the Queen's bodyguard would know nothing of that, of course. They would see only the result. Nemo and the other four would flee with the escapees, and as soon as they were safely out of sight, the "bound" guards would free themselves and resume their duties as caretakers of the base camp. Nemo and the four men would later strike out from the escaping party on their own as they approached the coast.
where they would say they hoped to find access to a ship that would take them over to Gaul. Once on their own, however, they would immediately make their way back to the camp.
Herliss nodded throughout all of this, plainly impressed with Uther's thoroughness and untroubled by any detail of what he was hearing.
When everything had been discussed, Uther excused himself to Herliss and Ygraine and made his way directly to the commissary, where he spoke with the head cook and obtained a heavy, lidded kitchen basket filled with fresh-cooked meat, both venison and fowl, a large loaf of new bread, a round of goat cheese and a small, cloth-wrapped bundle of apples that had been sliced and then dried in the sun. A jug of beer, sealed with a waxed covering, and two earthen mugs gave the basket a fine, substantial heft.
By the time Uther returned to the King's Tent
, Herliss had gone and Ygraine was waiting for him. They ate slowly and without interruption, enjoying the meal and the beer, and when they were finished, Uther got up and carefully fastened the leather flaps that formed the doorway. Then, moving almost formally and being careful not to touch each other, they remade their bed together slowly, enjoying the deliberate and titillating build-up of anticipation. When the bed was ready and he would have kissed her, Ygraine held him off even longer, motioning him away from her as she began to remove her clothing, licking her lips lasciviously and motioning to him to take his clothes off, too. They watched each other hungrily, then collapsed slowly on to the bed-skins and made love continuously, with only minor intermissions when they recouped and talked in whispers, until darkness fell more than three hours later.
They had more sleep that second night, but not much. Twice in the night Ygraine woke him with lips and questing fingers, and twice more he wakened her by penetrating her gently as she slept and drawing her slowly to the surface of sleep with his caresses.
He was astir before dawn, however, bathing himself in water from the ewer on the wash table and refusing to allow her to come near him while he did so, since they both knew the dangers of her being too close to him when he was naked. She helped him to buckle on his armour, however, and she slipped the long-bladed cavalry sword through the iron ring that hung at his back, then held his helmet while he swirled the great red war cloak with the gold- embroidered dragon over his head and let it settle comfortably across his shoulders before fastening the clasps that held it securely in place. When he was ready, he stood in front of her bare-headed, holding his heavy helmet in the crook of his left arm, its rim propped against his hip beneath his cloak. She came close to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, sliding the right one between the helmet and his cuirass under the heavy cloak and shrugging the heavy, thick material over her shoulders to hang down her back. She was bare-skinned and smelled deliciously of their lovemaking. He pecked her with a gentle kiss and peered down at her.
"Well, lady, shall we meet again?"
She tilted her head back and looked at him. "If you do your part properly and well, and soon, ridding Cornwall of Gulrhys Lot, then yes, my lord, we will."
"Ridding Britain of Gulrhys Lot, you mean. He pollutes far more than Cornwall. Have no fear, lady, I will do my part."
"And I'll do mine. I know not how, but I will send you word by some trusted messenger whenever I hear anything that you might use to confound him and his foul ambitions . . . I find myself wishing now, for the first time in my life, that I could read and write, for I could then sit down and write to you all that is in my mind. Bui I never learned in Eire. Writing must be a Roman trick."
Uther snorted. "Aye, it is that. I learned it myself, but only barely. I read, but I never write, although I could, if I were forced. Merlyn's the scribe in our family."
"So I shall have to be content with sending messages by mouth and memory."
"My memories of your mouth will sustain me as I wait, lady."
"Aye . . ." She did not smile, her brow creased in thought. "As I told you, I cannot say when it might be, Uther, or who might be my messenger, but I will reach you somehow. And if ever you come close to where I am at any time, I will find a way to come to you or have you brought to me."
He grinned. "Then we would spend all our time in bed, lady, and little of it talking."
She smiled now, too. "What better way can time be spent? Time enough for talking when we grow old. Look at that little man of yours. There's nothing old about him, is there? Young and upstanding, yet he is stiff-backed and not nearly as hard-headed as he first appears. Over all, though, he communicates his meaning excellently well, considering he spoke not a single word in the entire two nights of our dealings with one other. He is a very clever and talented little fellow and I have grown to like him very much, so see you. King Uther Pendragon, keep him safe for me."
"Aye, lady, you can rely upon me for that," he replied, smiling. He stooped and kissed her, long and deeply, and then raised his head high, gazing into nothingness. "I have to go now. I don't want to, but I'm already late. Fare thee well, sweet Lady Ygraine, until we meet again. The day after tomorrow, you will be free again."
"And on my way back to my wondrous husband. Gods! I think I would rather die. But I will go, and I will tell him what he wants to hear. . . tales of your depravity and wanton cruelty. I will pretend I do not know that he refused to rescue me and set my very life at risk by killing peaceful envoys, and I'll scream at him for vengeance upon you. And then I will listen carefully at every moment, and whatever I may hear, you will hear shortly afterwards. When will you return to Cambria?"
"In October, if the weather holds. Everything in war depends upon the weather. As long as I can move my troops around without their freezing on me, I'll stay here."
"What if I have tidings for you in the meantime, how will my messenger find you, and where?"
"In Cambria, in my stronghold of Tir Manha in the southwest. I stay there during the winter, without moving much, unless I have to go and visit one of the other clans in the Federation. I am never absent long, however, and your messenger will find no hardship in waiting for me for a few days. Otherwise, if I am not expected to return soon, I might be in Camulod, four days distant."
"And will my messenger be safe searching for you?"
He looked back into her eyes now, his own eyes narrowing, and then he removed a ring from the smallest finger of his right hand. The ring was of solid gold, the main body of it carved into the likeness of a dragon with its wings folded and its tail coiled, tiny jewels set into its head as glittering, brilliant, blood-red eyes. He pressed it into her hand, closing her fist over it.
"My colours, gold and red. This ring was my father's and his father's before that. I'll pass the word among my people that anyone carrying this ring must be brought to me immediately, no matter where I am. Don't lose it."
She raised both eyebrows. "But I always lose things! Everything! I lost my heart and my chastity to you, did I not? Now kiss me and be gone, before I drag you back to bed."
He did so, thoroughly and well, and then turned and left her before he could be tempted to do it again.
The raid that Uther led out that morning with Ygraine's scent still clinging to his skin was spectacularly successful, for they had struck directly southwestward, avoiding detection almost until they had penetrated to the very end of the long finger of Cornwall that thrust out into the sea. There, on both sides of the spur of land, lay a profusion of bays and inlets, many of them with narrow beaches and high, protective cliffs that Lot's people used to great advantage, landing their mercenary troops in sheltered coves and beaching their seagoing vessels.
Like his father before him, Gulrhys Lot offered safe harbour and anchorage to anyone wishing to use the deep coves of Cornwall for shelter. He made no moral judgments, betrayed no interest in the activities of his visitors and made no demands on them other than one. In return for their safety, security and the right to come and go at will, the raiders must pay him a bounty of half their booty in the form of specie—coins and vessels and ornaments of gold, silver, copper and bronze, and any jewels that they might acquire. Coinage was seldom used anywhere nowadays. Now everything was barter, and once- precious metals were largely worthless. What point in having silver and gold coins if you couldn't use them to buy anything? And so Lot's coffers were always full of coinage, and the pirates were well pleased with the bargain.
What few of them knew, however, was that Lot melted the coins and pieces down into bullion. Thick, heavy bars of solid gold, silver and copper were always sure to stir the hearts and minds of greedy men wealthy enough to hunger for more. Few such men lived in Britain nowadays, but there were still enough of them in Gaul and throughout the other provinces on the mainland to provide a lucrative market for his endeavours. Thus Lot could transform his bullion into ships and men and weapons, and ensure an unending supply of mercenaries for his wars
.
On the cliffs above the largest and most important of these inlets, those dedicated to the protection of the pirate fleets that earned him his bullion. Lot had constructed fortifications on the landward side. Many of these were little more than barricades: heaps of logs piled high upon each other and reinforced with sand, with perhaps a stepped ditch behind the crest where bowmen could stand in defence of the entrance to the narrow pathway to and from the beach below. Several, however, more than a score in all, were sophisticated enough to qualify as crude but real forts, lit to be manned most of the time, and a few of them were garrisoned full time.
Uther's raiding force fell upon these outposts like thunderbolts, striking terror into the defenders, since none of them had ever really expected to be attacked by hostile forces from within their own lands. It was beyond the power of their imaginations to envision an invading force strong enough to strike downward clean through the heart of Cornwall and reach the southwestern coast unbloodied. Their incredulity worked well on Uther's behalf, and he took full advantage of it, striking savagely and ruthlessly and driving the demoralized enemy out of their holes and back down onto the beaches, where they scattered and made their individual escapes as best they could. It frequently took his troopers longer to destroy the fortifications than it had to capture them.
Only one fort did Uther avoid on that expedition, and that was Tir Gwyn, Herliss's own White Fort, a massive construction that looked not only impregnable but inviolable since it was built entirely of a local, snow-white quartz. Uther halted his raiders on a nearby hill and allowed them to admire the castle from afar, blazing in the sunshine like a beacon of purity, but then he swung them around and put many miles between them and Tir Gwyn before night fell.
