The Dragon's Banner (18 page)

There was a collective gasp of horror from
the assembly, yet no one else dared speak or even look directly at
Uther, who stood there calmly, still holding his bloody sword.
After a moment, Uther turned and started back toward the
castle.

"Dawn," he said as he walked away. "We leave
at dawn."

In an instant, he was gone, leaving naught
behind save the stunned assembly and his deep footsteps in the
bloodstained snow.

Merlin stood in the great hall, alone in the
quiet predawn hours, thinking about recent events. He was troubled
by the change in Uther since Igraine was wed to the newly crowned
king of Cornwall. The boy had always been a great fighter, yet also
he had been joyful and caring. Now he was cold and as hard and
unyielding as granite, totally without mirth, without mercy,
without pity. He saw naught but his charge - to unify Britannia -
and he was determined to do so at any cost. Merlin feared for his
humanity.

"What have we done, Constantine?" he said to
himself, his voice barely audible. "What have we created? I fear
through heartbreak and love denied we have unleashed something
terrible."

Merlin had thought to accompany Uther and the
army as it marched north to Rheged, but Uther had other thoughts,
and bade his counselor to remain behind. "Leodegrance and Caradoc
are charged with deceiving the enemy," Uther had said. "Your wisdom
and cunning would greatly aid in that endeavor. You would do me
tremendous service if you remained and committed yourself to that
effort."

Of course he was right, thought Merlin, for
little could you offer to the army in battle. Better you remain and
help mislead the enemy. "Old fool," he said, talking to himself
again, "you just wanted to keep an eye on Uther. But he needs not
your oversight, for he is wise and strong, and though heartsick and
hurt he will be fine." Thus he said, but what he truly believed he
was not sure.

The sound of heavy footsteps from the hallway
distracted Merlin from his thoughts, and he looked behind him just
in time to see Uther trod quickly into the hall from the main
corridor. "Greetings, Uther."

"And mine to you, my friend." Uther's voice
was clear and strong, but without emotion. "We are agreed, are we
not, that you will remain and help Caradoc and Leodegrance hold
Powys and Cameliard?"

"I shall," said Merlin.

"My thanks to you then, for I shall feel less
concern if you are here to advise. Indeed, Merlin, I would have you
accept the regency in my absence if you will."

Thus occurred a truly rare event, for Merlin
was surprised and caught off guard. He who had advised many kings
and spoken in a hundred great councils was momentarily without
words. "I shall accept your charge, my friend." Never before had
Merlin agreed to take direct control over the affairs of those he
advised. I owe you this, my friend, he thought.

"My thanks to you. There is no one in whom I
have greater confidence." Uther then took his scabbard off his belt
and laid his sheathed sword on the council table. He walked over to
the fireplace, feeling a slight warmth from the prior evening's
fading embers, and grabbed his grandfather's sword from the mantle.
He pulled the blade partially from the sheath and looked at the
polished steel briefly, then slammed it back in place and hooked
the ornate scabbard to his belt in place of the one he had
removed.

"This was the blade of a king of Britannia,
of an emperor. He spoke partly to Merlin, partly to himself. "It
shall see battle once again as this nation is united. The land may
have but one high king, and all must swear fealty to him. To me.
They will yield or I shall leave them as a feast for the carrion
birds. My father used diplomacy; Vortigern used fear. I shall use
both. Those who do not recognize me as high king shall lie buried
under the ruins of their shattered strongholds. Those who oppose me
shall answer to God for the sufferings of their subjects, for the
bloody scourge of war that is visited upon their farmers and
townsfolk. For villages burned, for children slain, for the women
taken by the bloody hand of the soldier. The sin be upon any who
fail in their allegiance to their high king."

The deadly resolve in Uther's voice surprised
even Merlin, who stood in silence listening. What Uther was
becoming he could not know, for never in all his many years had he
heard a man speak with such terrible resolution. He feared for the
Uther Pendragon he knew so well, yet he found himself believing his
friend would prevail in his coming wars and gain a kingdom. Whether
it would cost him his soul, Merlin knew not.

"Your father awaits you, to bid you farewell
and give you council. Long has he been awake, for he knew you would
be departing with the sunrise."

"I have naught to say to my father." Uther’s
tone was icy. "I have paid my price for this alliance, he shall pay
his."

"Uther, Constantine has not many days left.
He will likely die while you are on campaign. Would you depart
without having words with him?"

"My father and I have had our last words."
Uther walked to the door, then paused and glanced back. "Fare thee
well, Merlin." With that, he walked into the corridor and out into
the courtyard, leaving his troubled friend and advisor standing
silently in the great hall.

Leodegrance sat his horse atop a hill and
looked down over the forces deployed in the valley. For weeks he
and his allies had played their game, convincing the forces of
Vortigern that Caradoc was a great Visigothic prince, come to
Britannia with his army to support the alliance. Confusion they had
spread through the enemy's ranks, and now Leodegrance had decided
the time had come to strike. Before him, arrayed for battle, was
the levy of Cameliard, and alongside his men were drawn up the
forces sent from Cornwall. Half of Gorlois' troops marched north
with Uther, while the balance remained to defend the south.

The young king of Cameliard had positioned
half his horsemen on the right of the army, retaining a force of
picked men with him on the hill as a reserve. In the center he had
placed the main body of Cameliard's warriors, armed mostly with
axes and swords, and alongside them, the spearmen of Cornwall. On
the left, under Gareth, the Lord Marshal of Cornwall, stood
Gorlois' heavy horse. In all, more than four thousands of warriors
awaited the command for battle, and yet this was not all their
enemies saw. For marching along the hill behind Leodegrance, as
though moving to outflank them, the enemy saw a large force of
Visigothic warriors, their round shields emblazoned with brightly
colored coats of arms.

At the head of this force rode Caradoc,
wearing armor and a tunic of incredible richness, and surrounded by
nine bodyguards. With him, in the foe's estimation, was his
marshal, though had the enemy been able to see through the hooded
cloak he wore they would have recognized the old man beneath. For
Merlin rode with Caradoc, playing the role of his general, and the
army they led consisted of every kitchen servant and farmhand
they'd been able to assemble.

For weeks, every craftsman in Powys and
Cameliard worked at Merlin's behest, fashioning large round shields
in the Visigothic style. Now this phantom army took the field, and
marched from the hill, in full view of the enemy, into the forest,
as if moving to cut off the foe's retreat.

Catigern, commander of the force that faced
them, stared nervously at the army arrayed before his. Younger son
of Vortigern, he had been appointed Marshal of the South and
charged with bringing the southern kingdoms to heel. He had
unleashed his forces on the countryside and spread terror among the
peasantry and townsfolk, undermining their morale and their resolve
to resist. Finally, when he gave battle he ambushed and destroyed
the force sent to meet him, slaying hundreds, including the King of
Cameliard. Victory was within his grasp before the young heir
returned to rally his forces and avenge his father. Worse, he
brought with him allies, a Visigothic warlord and his army, and
with their aid he destroyed the raiding parties. Now emboldened,
the new king had taken to the field in force and marched east to
confront Catigern's army.

Catigern was worried, for though he still had
the advantage in numbers, the margin was far less than he had
thought it would be. Why, he wondered, would Leodegrance come out
of his fortresses and meet a superior army in the open? Even with
the forces of the Visigothic prince standing against him, Catigern
had half again the numbers of his enemies. Unless there was another
surprise that Leodegrance kept hidden, waiting for the right
moment. Another ally? A traitor in Catigern's army?

What he did not consider was that Leodegrance
was a different sort of man than he. Catigern was a bully, and his
courage was fed by having the upper hand. A fair fight he would try
to avoid, and one where he was outmanned would completely drain his
resolve.

Leodegrance was a hero - aggressive,
determined, and indefatigable. He chafed at inaction and would jump
at any chance to fight his enemy. He knew not how long the ruse
with Caradoc would fool his foe, nor did he trust in the alliance
with Gorlois lasting indefinitely. Now he had the enemy confused
and two thousand troops of Cornwall at his back. He would
strike.

He would have attacked already, but he wanted
to give the foe the chance to see his false Visigoths. Now the
decoy troops were almost out of view in the forests on the right.
He gave a command and one of his standard bearers dipped the flag
of Cameliard - the signal for the cavalry on the wings to
charge.

The horsemen of Cameliard, the barons and
landowners, spurred their horses forward, screaming cries of bloody
vengeance for their slain king. They faced a company of mounted
Britons wearing the red livery of Vortigern, and behind them a
large force of Saxon foot. Leodegrance's nobles thundered across
the valley with such ferocity the enemy horsemen were momentarily
shaken, and they hesitated before they counter-charged. The men of
Cameliard thus had the impetus and they crashed into their foes,
throwing javelins then savagely slashing with their swords. The
enemy horsemen fought back for a moment, then wavered and broke,
fleeing in disorder with Leodegrance's men in pursuit.

On the other flank, the nobles of Cornwall
faced the larger contingent of Catigern's cavalry and the two
forces locked in a bitter and confused melee. Leodegrance watched
the fighting on both flanks and, as the infantry lines in the
center crashed into each other, he led the hundred mounted men he'd
kept back on the hill around the left. With the king in the
forefront, they charged into the flank of Catigern's cavalry.
Engaged to the front and flank, and overwhelmed by the ferocity of
Leodegrance's charge, they broke and fled.

Catigern was unnerved by the fighting on the
flanks, though he had Saxon noble infantry positioned as a reserve
behind both, and those troops had formed shieldwalls and prepared
to face the victorious enemy cavalry. The battle in the center was
much more in his favor, as his numbers were greater, and his
position was uphill from the attacking forces. Now was the
time...he would commit his infantry reserves and break then enemy
center before Leodegrance's horsemen could fight through his
shieldwalls.

"Lord Catigern!" The cry came from a young
warrior riding hurriedly to his position. "The camp is under attack
from the woods. They are behind us, my lord!"

The Visigoths, he thought bitterly, just as I
feared. If Caradoc's army attacked them from behind while they were
still fighting to their front, not one man in ten would escape.
"Sound the withdrawal." His voice was cracking and high-pitched
from fear. "Retreat. The army will retire."

The horns blew and all across Catigern's host
the confused and startled warriors paused and gave ground. Fully
engaged, they found it difficult to retreat, and they fell back
slowly, still fighting. But confusion and fear sapped their morale
and within a few moments panic began to spread. First in small
groups, and then all across the line they dropped their weapons and
fled.

Most of the infantry in the center escaped,
but the Saxons posted on each wing were almost wiped out by the
pursuing cavalry. Only a few survivors reached the woods and
relative safety. Catigern himself was overcome with fear and fled
the field ahead of his army, whose retreat became a confused rout
of abysmal disarray. In their desperation to escape, his forces
left their camp and all their baggage and fled for their lives.

In the woods near the abandoned camp stood
Owin, master hunter and gameskeeper to King Leodegrance. He and
fifty of his fellows emerged from the dense woods from which they
had been throwing javelins and pretending to be several thousand
Visigoth warriors preparing to attack the camp. Owin was tall, more
than six feet, and gray of hair, for he had seen five and fifty
summers. He had served three generations of Leodegrance's house,
but never had he rendered greater service than that which he and
his hand-picked fellows had done this day. The plan was Merlin's,
but it was Owin and his men who had seen it done.

Into the empty camp they swarmed, and if they
took the chance to pick out the best of the spoils, such were the
fortunes of war. Owin was sitting on a felled log and enjoying some
of Catigern's finest ale when King Leodegrance rode up to the camp.
With the king was Caradoc, who had convincingly played his part in
the ruse, and Gareth of Cornwall. Owin leapt to his feet and bowed
to his king. Leodegrance's arm was bandaged, and his tunic was torn
in several places.

"Greetings, Owin. Good service have you given
this day my noble woodsman. Indeed, this day you are a hero of
Cameliard."