Jack Whyte - Uther

"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.

That raid marked the beginning of a season of warfare in which Uther's Dragons went from success to success and earned themselves a reputation among Lot's forces that often resulted in the Cornishmen throwing down their weapons and running away without attempting to strike a blow. Only the hardest of Lot's mercenaries stopped the year from becoming a complete rout for the Dragons. Several groups and divisions of those, mainly Germanic tribesmen who had trained and fought as imperial mercenaries, combined forces under a pair of talented generals called Cerdic and Tewdric and for a time came close to halting Uther's free-ranging progress.

The two armies met late one afternoon across a narrow valley with steep sides, and Uther knew that his were not the only guts squirming with fear and apprehension that day. But as the opposing forces eyed each other, waiting for the dispositions that their commanders would decree, a storm broke over them, battering both armies with terrifying power. Both hosts sat still, absorbing the blasts, waiting for them to blow over, but time passed and the tempest showed no sign of abating. The rain was icy, mixed with hail, and the temperature plummeted. The men were soaked, and then grew chilled, then frozen, and still the storm flared about them, with lightning bolts that shattered trees and scattered men. Night fell, and the world was a quagmire. Day came and the hillside opposite Uther's position was bare of men.