by Jack Whyte
Now as he lay watching, he felt excitement grow in him. If he could find his friends quickly enough, he could bring them by the route he had found to where it met the river. The enemy would pass there early the following day, and he and his could be waiting for them there in ambush. Carefully, keeping his head low and moving with great caution, One-Finger crawled away until he was beyond sight of the encampment below. Then he stood up. breathed deeply several times until his lungs were full and set off northward at a steady lope.
Uther and Ygraine had barely begun to eat when the alarm was shouted and a lone rider came cantering towards the camp. Uther stood up, his food forgotten as he heard someone shout Garreth Whistler's name, and a great flood of dismay swept up from his belly. Despite the distance between them, he had recognized Garreth almost before he heard the distant shout naming him, for the King's Champion rode bare-headed, his long, white-golden hair catching the last of the sun's light. Ygraine, too, had come to her feet, and now she bent to place her food on the rock on which she had been sitting, and reached out to grasp Uther's wrist, her touch calming him and helping greatly to soothe his fears. He knew that Garreth's arrival could hardly bring good tidings, and a vision of a battlefield on which only ravens yet lived sprang into his mind. Forcing himself to remain outwardly calm, he, too, stooped slowly and laid down his food, then disengaged his wrist from Ygraine's hold and moved forward slowly to where Garreth could see him easily. Stone-faced, he watched as the approaching figure recognized him and angled directly towards him, keeping his horse at a steady lope until he had reached the spot where Uther stood. By that time, the King had seen the wide grin on his friend's face, but he ignored it, his own face a strictly schooled mask that showed nothing. The Commander's perception was the only one that counted here: this was a subordinate approaching who ought to be with his own men. Uther fought to keep his own imaginings under control.
Whistler brought his horse to a halt and swung his right leg forward easily over his horse's head, sliding effortlessly to the ground and striding forward to embrace his King. Uther halted him with an outstretched arm and spoke through stiff lips.
"What are you doing here, Garreth? I gave you clear instructions to stay with Dedalus."
Garreth Whistler stopped short, but his smile barely altered. "He didn't need me. He has everything in hand and more assistance than he needs. I thought your need of me might be greater than his."
"How so, when I told you what I required of you?"
Whistler looked from Uther's angry gaze to where Ygraine stood watching and bowed deeply. "My lady, I trust you are well?"
"We are. Garreth. all of us, as you can see. Thank you for asking."
"I'm waiting," Uther said, his voice soft and cold. "Make your report."
The other man looked back to him, his grin finally fading, and inclined his head. "Of course, my lord. Forgive me. I have to report that all is well with your army. Better than any of us could have expected earlier today. The plan proposed by Dedalus worked to perfection. The enemy went running after you in ever-growing numbers and left the field to us."
Uther blinked. "Left the—? You mean they all came after us?"
"Aye, lord, they did. Or most of them did. But not all at once. The first runners went after your party, seeing their chance for riches and hoping to catch you quickly. And then others realized what those first pursuers were doing, and they gave chase too, hoping to share in your capture—and especially in the capture and rape of the women they thought you had with you—your pardon, my lady." This last was to Ygraine, who merely nodded and said nothing. "Then, once things had reached that point, others joined in until the flow became a flood, and those who were then left behind, unsure of what to do, could see that Dedalus was strengthening his formations and making ready to fight again to the death. I think by that time they had had enough. Ded said all along they had little stomach for fighting our lads, and it was only their numbers that encouraged them. He was right. With what looked like more than half their army gone, chasing you, the others apparently thought it might be wise to follow them. Certainly none of them moved back to the attack. They simply melted away after that, many of them back towards the north. And as I said, they left the field to us."
"How many men did we lose altogether?"
"Too many. More than half. But when the enemy disengaged, we had a full five hundred still standing in formation, some of them slightly wounded, and more than a hundred mounted troopers regrouped on the hillside."
There was a long silence as Uther absorbed this. A silent ring of men had gathered around just within earshot, eager to hear the tidings Garreth had brought. He made no move to banish them, but when he spoke again he raised his voice slightly.
"You are describing a victory."
Garreth shrugged, his smile evident again, although it was a mere shadow of his former grin.
"Aye, Lord Uther, I am. When an army stands alone and unchallenged upon a battlefield after the fight, they have won a victory, no matter what."
Now a buzz of amazed speculation broke out among the listeners, and Uther let them talk while he motioned Garreth aside, all of his former anger dissipated.
"Come and eat, you must be hungry."
"Starved, lord."
"Aye, I have no doubt."
Uther turned to a nearby trooper and asked him to bring some bread and meat for Garreth, and then he led the Champion back to where he and Ygraine had been sitting. Garreth talked quietly to Ygraine for a few moments, asking about her son, and then seated himself gratefully on a smooth boulder. Uther, filled with thankfulness that his fears had been ill-founded, allowed his friend to rest quietly for a few moments before asking his next question.
"What happened then, after the enemy left?"
"We stood fast for more than an hour, lest any of them come back, and then we set about cleaning up the mess. Mucius Quinto organized his field hospital, tending to the wounded, and half of the men were assigned to burial duties and litter duties. The other half set up a defence perimeter, although there was little need. By that time, even the enemy wounded were aware that it was over and we had won, and they gave us no trouble. Quinto's people were attending to them, too. I asked him why, and he said that they had stopped being enemies and were now injured men."
"Aye, Quinto thinks that way, as does his friend Lucanus."
The trooper returned with Garreth's food, and after thanking the man Garreth dedicated himself to demolishing the succulent meat. Uther and Ygraine sat together side by side on neighbouring stones and watched him eat. neither of them making any move to resume their own interrupted meal but simply content to sit there quietly, close to each other. Finally, Garreth swallowed his last mouthful and drank from the flask at his side, and Uther spoke again.
"Did you see my guards on the way in?"
"You mean the squad you left behind to guard your back? Aye I did. Junius Lepo was in command. He and his men were bright and alert. . . half of them, anyway. The other half were asleep, the night watch."
"Good. So tell me now why you are here."
The King's Champion pursed his lips, looking speculatively at his friend. "Are you asking me as Uther, my friend and pupil, or as Uther Pendragon, my King and Commander?"
"Both."
Garreth sniffed. "I said before, I thought you might have more need of me than Dedalus did. He had most of his officers there . . . we lost relatively few, given what we had endured. He had already made all the arrangements to load his wounded into the wagons and was marshalling his remaining troops to march them homeward. He didn't need me. Besides, I knew what it had cost you to ride away as you did, and I thought you might be relieved to hear how everything had turned out. And so I bade farewell to Dedalus and came to find you, slipping away by the same valley you followed."
"Hmm. The thought of all the enemy forces between us didn't bother you?"
"No, not as long as I was travelling in the same direction they were. But do I look any ol
der to you than I did when you last saw me?"
Now Uther smiled for the first time since his friend's arrival. "No, you do not. Should you?"
"Aye, I think so, for I must have aged ten years after you set that fire and sent the entire wasp's nest running back towards me. The wind from the south—and I suppose you must have thanked all the gods for it—turned that entire valley into a Hue, and the flames blowing through it took everything, every tree and bush, every blade of grass, and the gods alone know how many of Lot's men. I tell you, I was really grateful that I had a horse, for if I hadn't, I would have been cooked like that deer meat I just ate. I saw the smoke belching up the valley towards me and guessed what it must mean, so I turned my horse and put the spurs to him without stopping to think, and I was able to get up onto the hillsides close to the crest before the flames could catch up to me. It was a spectacle to behold, I'll take an oath on that. Never saw anything like it. Just like a bursting dam, it was, except that it was fire that spewed up, not water. A river of fire, moving faster than a horse could run." He paused, his gaze unfocused, and then made a deep "humphing" sound in his throat, remembering. Then he turned to Uther"Where are the others? You had four hundred cavalry. Where are they?"
"I sent most of them home a few miles back where the valley forks." Uther briefly explained what he had been thinking at that time, and Garreth sat nodding as he listened, but Uther was more interested in the story of how Garreth had reached hint.
"So, you were telling me about the fire, how well it worked. Go on."
Garreth shrugged and made a wry face. "Well, I managed to escape the flames, as you can see, but that damned fire still almost got me killed, for I wasn't the only one to seek safety up on the crest. I found myself among a large number of really unpleasant people up there. None of them seemed to know me for what I was. All too concerned with saving their own skins, I suppose, and getting their breath back. But after a while, one of them took a really good look at me, and then I had to ride hard downhill to get away. Could have come to a bad end there, too, because that horse was bouncing down the slope like a boulder, terrified, and staying on his feet only by magic. Don't know how we survived.
"And then, about half an hour later, damned if I didn't almost ride into a party of horsemen. By sheer luck, I was above them again and saw them before they saw me. They were riding through the trees down to my left, and I heard one of their horses screaming. It must have slipped and fallen on the slope. I couldn't count them accurately because of all the trees, but there must have been close to half a hundred of them. I had no idea who they were, but I knew they weren't ours, so I tried to keep well out of their way."
"You mean you failed? They saw you?"
"Aye, they saw me and came after me, but I managed to lose them."
Uther was frowning. "Who could they have been, these people? There were no horses among the army we fought."
"No, there weren't, so I guessed that whoever they were, they were no part of Lot's rabble. But I felt no temptation to ride down to them. I've heard that old nonsense about the enemy of my enemy being my friend, but you'll be an old man before you'll get me to believe it. And judging from the way they came after me, these were not friendly travellers."
"So how did you escape them?"
Garreth shrugged. "Around a hump in the hillside, a kind of shoulder in the rock. They were coming up hard to catch me on one side of the hump, so I went down the other side, passing them as they climbed. I went all the way to the bottom and then swung south again, following the road along the valley. It's not really a road, but on their way north earlier. Lot's army trampled it that enough to resemble one. I made good time for about eight or nine miles, and when I knew I was far enough ahead to have lost any pursuit, I struck upward again across the crest and back down into the valley you were in. I was south of the fire by that time, close to the split in the valley where you say you turned the others loose. Come to think of it, I saw no signs of hundreds of horsemen having passed that way. How did you manage that?"
"The ground was hard there, that's all. Bare rock and little grass. Philip was aware of the need to leave no tracks for anyone to follow, and he made sure his men knew it, too." He coughed, clearing his throat. "So, you've seen no evidence of these other horsemen since you evaded them?"
"No, not a sign."
"Good. Then we had better get ourselves to sleep. It has been a long and wearying day, and this will be a short night with another long day tomorrow."
It had grown dark as they spoke, and the entire camp was almost silent, few of the tired men possessing the energy to sit up talking by the fires for an extra hour as they normally would. Uther slipped his arm around Ygraine, as Garreth Whistler vanished in search of his saddlebags and bedroll, and he led her close to one of the fires nearby. There he covered her with his great red cloak, draped his sleeping blanket over that and then lay down beside her in full armour, pulling the coverings over himself, too. They kissed a few times, each of them comforting the other, and then fell asleep in each other's arms.
Uther awoke before dawn in pitch darkness, brought to awareness by the sounds of banked fires being rekindled. He lay blinking up at the stars for several moments while he adjusted to where he was, and then he raised the coverings and rolled out of his ground-hard bed, lowering the covers back quickly over Ygraine before the night air could sweep in and chill her. It was cold, and everything was wet with a heavy dew, so he moved well away from his sleeping place before he began to stamp his feet, jarring the kinks out of his joints and swinging his arms to warm and loosen them, too. As soon as he felt that he could walk without creaking, he made his way downstream along the edge of the river until he was well clear of the camp, and there he relieved himself gratefully before washing his face in the icy stream.
By the time he returned, everyone was astir, even the Queen and her women, and he and Ygraine shared a quick breakfast by one of the fires, talking about her brother Connor and his expected arrival while they ate their normal morning travelling ration of lightly roasted grains and nuts mixed with chopped dried fruit, washing it down with fresh, cold water from the spring. Somewhere behind them, they could hear their son whimpering and fretting as one of the women changed his swaddling clothes, cleaning him and making him ready for the day's journey. After that, as the eastern sky was beginning to lighten with the first, faint promise of a new day, everyone shared the duty of cleaning up the campsite, the men rolling and tying their bedrolls and the women packing their few belongings, while the Cambrian bowmen readied themselves for the march, tending to their bows and bowstrings and wiping any moisture they could find from the blades of their other weapons. The troopers checked their harness and weapons and found their own mounts among the horse lines, saddling and bridling them and fastening bedrolls and saddlebags before pulling themselves up into the saddles. Controlled chaos became eddying confusion and then quickly gave way to order as the milling troopers formed themselves into disciplined units.
It was almost full daylight by then, and Uther, his head bare and his huge helmet cradled in the bend of his elbow, was waiting impatiently for everything to be in order, and as awareness of his disapproving frown spread among the men, that order was achieved, and a stillness fell. Uther nodded, satisfied, but just as he raised his clenched fist to give the signal to move out, a shout went up from the outer ring of guards and a mounted trooper came hammering towards them, shouting an alarm.
Uther rode out to meet the approaching man immediately, waving him down as he drew closer, but he already knew what the trooper, whose name was Curio, would tell him. Sure enough, he brought word of a large body of heavily armed and armoured horsemen approaching quickly, forty or fifty strong, coming down the valley from the north by the route that Uther had followed the day before. They had come with the first light of dawn, Curio said, and they had been moving slowly over the unfamiliar and night- shrouded ground, but fortunately young Telas, the man with the best eyes among the guards,
had been on duty and alert for any signs of movement in the gathering light. He had seen the newcomers the moment they came into view and had raised the alarm.
Junius Lepo had sent Curio off immediately at full gallop to warn Uther, while he and his remaining ten troopers had gone into hiding, prepared to meet and engage the newcomers, hitting them by surprise. That had been less than half an hour earlier. Curio could not know how long Junius Lepo and his ten men might be able to fight off the strangers, or if they would be successful in holding them at all, but he had ridden at the gallop all the way, escaping unseen and sure that he was leaving his mates to their death.
Uther listened, resisting the urge to curse Garreth Whistler for his insubordination of the day before. It was by no means certain, he told himself, that the newcomers had followed the Whistler. They might have simply come south on their own initiative, looking for plunder of any kind. But even as he thought the words, he doubted them.
"Very well," he said to Curio. "Come with me and stay close by me, but keep your mouth shut. I'll do all the talking."
He wheeled his horse and spurred it back to where the others sat watching him and waiting, but he pulled up short of them, where none of them could easily hear him speaking quietly.
"Garreth," he called. "A word with you."
Garreth Whistler kneed his mount forward to where the King and Curio had drawn rein, some way from the rest of the party.
"Those riders you evaded yesterday, were they cavalry?"
The Champion's brow clouded. "No. They were mounted, but they had no formation and showed no signs of discipline. I wouldn't call them cavalry. Why?"
