Jack Whyte - Uther

"By using the tools Lot uses all the time: bribery, corruption and treachery. We could say that he suborned some of your guards, offering them large rewards for their assistance."

"But Herliss is a prisoner, and even Lot would not believe my men fools enough to deal in future promises. If they are to be bribed, they'll want their hot hands on the bribe as soon as it is offered . . . immediately. So where would Herliss have found these large rewards?"

"Among the chests belonging to me and my women . . . jewels and line clothing and other precious items."

Uther sat back, his eyes wide with surprise. "And do you have such things?"

"Of course we have such things. No one deprived us of them after our capture."

"Aye, well, that may be, but now they are on their way to Camulod with their owners."

"Of course they are, but we are making up a tale, King Cambria! We are discussing subterfuge . . . a false bribing."

"Aye, you're right." Uther broke into a grin. "I had forgotten that already. But—" His face grew sober again as a new thought occurred to him. "But can you then trust your own women and your guards not to reveal the deception? Bear in mind the women will be returned from Camulod with all their jewels intact."

"The women . . . some of them I would trust. Others I would not. But they are on the road to Camulod, as you say, and may remain there in comfort for some time. If you and I agree, they will be well looked after and may come home safely later. My bodyguard, on the other hand, I trust implicitly. They are my kinsmen, sworn to my father for my protection and well-being. And yet they are but men, and men will talk in drink. There must be a way to safeguard against that. . ."

"There is, but Herliss would have to be let in on our plan."

She looked at him in surprise. "How so? What mean you?"

"Well, if Herliss were to agree, then we could arrange matters so that he would conduct the escape as though it were genuine, without anyone else having to be involved. That way your bodyguard need never know the truth and could go back to Gulrhys Lot's domain with their heads held high and boast thereafter to their hearts' content, when they are in their cups, of how they won free of the Cambrians."

"And what if Herliss refuses?"

"Then he must remain here, unfortunately. Herliss is a man of honour, by your own assessment, and honour, once entrenched, is massive difficult to unseat or change."

"Aye, but true honour is ever open wide to ethical challenge." She turned and looked at him, her face a picture of wonder and amused excitement. "Do you not agree?"

He grimaced and shrugged. "Lady, it matters not what I might think. The decision of what to do lies firm within the options open to Herliss."

"Will you send him here to me and keep the guards away?"

"I will, right now."

"No!"

Uther stopped on the point of rising, his face blank with surprise at her vehemence, and she felt a tide of colour begin to surge in her cheeks. She moderated her tone, speaking more quietly. "No, not right now. Not yet. First you and I must strike an agreement."

He began to move again, rising slowly to his feet. "Aye, and what would that be, lady?"

"That we two be allies from this moment forth, trusting in and relying upon each other, and that we will work together henceforth to remove Gulrhys Lot from the ruling of Cornwall."

"That will mean killing him, lady."

"So be it, if it must. And you will call me by my name, Ygraine, or Lady Ygraine, if you prefer, so be it you no longer call me 'lady' alone."

He nodded slowly, his face breaking into a broad smile that she watched grow with distinct feelings of pleasure. "So be it, Lady Ygraine," he murmured. "Will you shake hands with me to seal our pact?"

Ygraine extended her hand and felt it enveloped in his, not as a man might grasp another's hand, but as a large, warm blanket that enwrapped her slowly and gently, almost caressing the skin of her wrist, so that involuntarily, all the tiny hairs along her arm stood up on end. He raised his hand then, carrying her captive hand gently towards his mouth, where he held it short of his face yet close enough for her to feel the soft warmth of his breath against her lingers. Then, slowly, his other hand came up to grasp her forearm, its touch, too, a caress, and her heart began to pound in her chest. He stooped his head slightly towards her, keeping his eye fixed on hers, and then released her.

"I will bring Herliss to you now. Don't go away."

She made no response but watched him closely as he collected his great cloak and shook out its folds before swirling it up and letting it fall across his shoulders. He fastened its clasp, then bowed slightly to her from the waist and left her standing alone, watching him vanish from sight.

Uther found Herliss in the small compound in which he was being held and waited patiently while he shrugged his way into his tunic and swept his cloak over his shoulders. They had barely left the enclosure when the veteran warrior found his voice.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the Lady Ygraine."

"The Queen left yesterday with her women." Herliss's voice was a low growl.

"You are well informed for a prisoner, but aye, you're right. . . that one did, at least. But this is the real one. Through there." Uther pointed and stepped aside, then followed Herliss as the other dipped his head and shouldered his way through a screen of hanging willow branches that opened on to the grassy clearing in front of the King's Tent. Herliss noticed the lack of guards immediately and hesitated, looking back over his shoulder at Uther.

"Aye, no guards, I know. No witnesses. Don't worry, Herliss, did I wish to kill you, you would now be dead. I am no Gulrhys Lot.

Your Queen is in there, waiting for you. I'll wait out here until you call for me, and I will not be listening, so call loudly."

Uther turned and walked away without another glance, aware that the older man was standing stupefied, staring at his retreating back. Then, just at the far range of his hearing, he heard Ygraine's voice calling Herliss's name from inside the tent.

Uther half smiled to himself and kept moving until he reached a short, thick log that lay beside a shallow firepit, about twenty paces from the entrance to the tent, and lowered himself to sit on it, aware that the only sounds he could hear were made by soldiery somewhere behind him and to his right. No slightest sound reached him from the direction of the King's Tent where Ygraine and Herliss were in the earliest stages of what was bound to be a most important conversation.

Swallowing his impatience and aware that he was ill at ease simply sitting still with nothing in particular to do, Uther looked about him, searching for something, anything, that might hold his interest while he awaited the outcome of what was going on between his two prisoners. For a while he fought the nagging urge to rise and move about, but then he gave in and stood up abruptly, moving away through the fringe of willows to stand by the river's edge. He stood gazing down into the water, thinking that he should be able to see trout moving down there, until he remembered that he had brought upwards of a hundred men here only weeks before, many of whom had been fishing along the entire length of this stream at every spare moment since they arrived. He grinned and shook his head, then sat on a mossy stone on the riverbank, where he undid the leather thongs that fastened his heavy boots and kicked the cumbersome footwear off. Moments later he had removed his thick socks, too, and pulled up the legs of his woollen trousers until they were above his knees, so that he could plunge his bare feet into the cold waters of the river, flinching against the sudden shock and immediately relaxing and remembering with pleasure doing exactly the same thing as a boy.