The Dragon's Banner (2 page)

Allies they had as well as enemies, and many
of these were even now guests at Caer Guricon, come for the council
called by King Constantine. All about the castle and town were the
tents of their retinues, and from the battlements of the stronghold
flew a row of seven banners - the coats of arms of the kings here
assembled. Alone, above all the others was hung the great silver
and blue standard of the Pendragon, flapping furiously in the
wind.

All about, there was a whirlwind of activity,
for the morrow was Easter, and King Constantine had declared a
great celebration to inaugurate the council. All, it was said,
would be feasted, from the kings to the lowliest camp follower, and
on this holiest of days all would pray to God that Britannia's
wounds be healed.

Come for the council was another man, old and
stooped with age, yet agile of mind and spirit. Not a king, not a
warrior, yet all assembled would hear and respect his words, and
those who did not respect would fear. Uther had many companions,
but the old man was his closest friend. He would come in his own
time, sometimes not for several years, but usually every few
months. No man held dominion over Merlin, who had helped many lords
but bended his knee to none. Some called him a wizard who could
summon great devilry, whispering that no good would come from his
visits. But most regarded him as a wise and learned counselor.
There were even those who believed he came from far off Rome
itself, to guide its lost people back into the Empire's embrace and
bring back the days of happiness and plenty.

Long into the night would his father and
Merlin sit in counsel, discussing what, Uther could only guess.
Constantine met with Merlin alone. Grave tidings the traveler
usually brought, and his warnings were heeded by the wise. Whether
one thought him wizard or advisor or kingmaker, only the foolish
ignored his counsel.

Merlin was fond of Uther, and he had always
had time to sit with the boy, telling him tales of battles and
great deeds from long ago. Uther was excited to see Merlin again,
for it had been nigh on a year since the traveler had last visited
Caer Guricon. But Merlin was deep in conference with his father
and, his tournament battles over, Uther was bored. He wandered
through the camps, seeking out comrades from past battles, for the
Pendragon had been allies with all of these kings at one time or
another. His great friend, Leodegrance, he found, just arrived in
the company of his father, the king of Cameliard. Leodegrance had
fought alongside Uther on the field of battle and had struggled
against him in the tournament circle, for he was one of the few
warriors who could match the young prince of Powys.

"Welcome, Prince of Cameliard." Uther
bellowed cheerfully to his friend. "For Powys shall ever be for you
a second home."

Leodegrance turned, and his face erupted into
a broad smile. "Uther Pendragon! Ah, 'tis good to see you, old
friend."

Uther warmly embraced his old companion.
"Come, my friend, for you must be ravenous. Begone with this camp
food, for heaping plates of mutton and casks of good ale await. I
pray thee, let thy servants fight with tent poles and stakes, for
when you and I war, it is against different foes than these."

Leodegrance laughed deeply, and put his hand
on his friend's shoulder. "Uther, my comrade, I daresay I could eat
a whole sheep myself, so I accept your invitation with joy."

The two of them made their way to the castle,
talking and laughing as they walked up the winding path. Together
they raided the kitchens, devouring slabs of mutton, two large
geese, and loaves of bread, washed down with cups of strong
wine.

Uther and Leodegrance had known each other
for many years, and Powys and Cameliard were close allies. They had
been born within a few days of each other, though Leodegrance was
his father's only son and destined for kingship, while Uther had
three elder brothers.

Though they had sworn to eat the kitchens
bare, finally they had to admit defeat, for not another morsel
could either of them manage, though the larders were still
bursting. The two sat long, talking of many things, until a
messenger came to Leodegrance, delivering him his father's bidding
that he return to the camp. With regret, but a full stomach, he
took leave of his friend and trod back down the hill to answer his
father's summons.

Uther sat long in the kitchen, silently
thinking of all that was taking place. He longed to join his own
father in counsel with Merlin, but he had fought this battle before
and lost. He walked past the heavy oak door, which he knew would be
bolted shut from the other side and, with a heavy sigh, he wandered
down the path back toward the town. The miller's daughter would
help him pass the time.

Behind that heavy oaken door, the king of
Powys was deep in conference with his friend and most trusted
advisor. At a great wooden table they sat, on which a spread of
meats and other foods had been set on great silver platters. It was
a kingly feast, but neither had eaten a bite.

"If this is true, Merlin, then we must move
at once, for it may already be too late." King Constantine was an
old man, his wrinkled and careworn face framed by thick lengths of
steel-gray hair. Late in life did he marry, and fifty summers he
had already seen when Uther was born. His own father, the emperor,
he did not remember at all, for the great man had been slain in
Gaul when Constantine the Younger was but a year of age.

The other man in the room was old too, though
it seemed that all men saw Merlin differently. White as snow was
his hair, some said, while others claimed it was iron gray mixed
with black. Some saw a man stooped with age who walked with a
stick; others a strong and active one who carried his staff like a
weapon and could ride or march all day. Perhaps those who knew him
best saw him truest, for in Constantine's watery eyes, Merlin
appeared ageless, somehow both old and young, and certainly neither
weak nor infirm.

"It is true, Constantine, for with my own
eyes I have seen it. When first this word came to me, I resolved to
travel north and see the state of affairs for myself. Vortigern has
indeed returned from exile, and he has not only forged an alliance
with the Saxons; he is near to reaching agreement with the Picts.
Indeed, as we sit here he may already have done so. The Picts are
to have the north, the Saxons the east, and Vortigern the west and
south."

Constantine thought silently, for Merlin had
always been right, and held the counselor’s words beyond doubt.
Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke clearly. "It is none too
soon that we have called this council, and I pray we are able to
reach agreement. For if we do not stand together, I fear we shall
not stand at all. Indeed, even if all six kings here assembled join
us, we may yet lack the strength to triumph. We must look for other
allies."

As Constantine finished speaking, he was
taken by a fit of deep, dry coughs. Merlin rose and filled the
king's goblet from a golden flagon that had been set on the table.
Constantine nodded his thanks and took a shallow drink, clearing
his throat so he could again speak.

Before Constantine could continue, Merlin
did, his voice brittle, as if he were speaking of something
unpleasant. "There is but one potential ally with the strength to
matter in this contest, and he is well known to both of us."

"Gorlois," Constantine responded, his face
contorted as if he had tasted something bitter. "He is not my
friend, Merlin, nor am I his. We have fought each other many times,
as you well know."

"Needs may sometimes make friends from foes,
for the lands of Gorlois also would fall under Vortigern also
should he conquer all. He is no fool, Gorlois, nor will he relish
the thought of bending his knee to Vortigern. He will listen to an
entreaty, I believe. And though he is a vulgar man, and I like him
no more than you do, to my knowledge he keeps his oaths."

Constantine leaned back in his great oaken
chair, eyes shut as he considered the situation. Ponder as he
might, he could not think of an alternative. Finally, eyes still
closed, he spoke softly. "I will dispatch ambassadors to his court
at once." He paused for a moment. "I will send rich gifts also, for
Gorlois is a vain fool, and such shall appease his pride."

Again, Constantine was taken by a fit of
coughing, though it was worse this time, and he pulled a cloth from
the table to catch the spittle. When he was done, he quickly balled
up the small rag in his massive fist, but Merlin saw the spray of
crimson splotches on the white linen.

The counselor’s face softened, and he looked
at his companion with warmth and concern. "Constantine, my old
friend, you needn't hide the truth from me. For I know well your
affliction. A potion of herbs I can make that will ease your pains.
After the counsel I shall depart, for only in the deep woods grow
the vines I need. I fear it shall do nothing more than ease your
discomfort and give you a bit more time, for I have no power to
heal that which afflicts you."

"Is that your way of telling me I'm dying,
Merlin?" He laughed, which almost sent him into another spasm of
coughing. Catching himself, he continued. "That my sickness is
mortal is well known to me, good friend. I am old, and I have
traveled far and seen many things. I am at peace with my fate, but
I cannot die and leave my kingdom to fall to Vortigern. I will not.
I must conclude these alliances before I breath my last. And your
wisdom is, as always, sound. We must have Gorlois. There is no one
else."

The treaty with Gorlois must be carefully
drafted." Merlin's expression was stern, thoughtful. "I will do it
if you will permit me. And it should be made as strong as possible,
for though Gorlois knows that Vortigern covets his lands, yet he
still might ally with him if he feels weak or threatened. We must
bind Gorlois firmly to our alliance. Perhaps a marriage."

"You speak wisdom, Merlin, but I have no
daughter, loath as I would be to consign her to Gorlois'
bedchamber. Nor does Gorlois have a daughter to wed to Uther. Where
shall I find a bride to offer?"

Long they spoke, about many things - what
barons of Constantine's had suitable daughters, the terms to offer
Gorlois, who should be sent to Cornwall to make the entreaty. When
they were finished, Constantine had one last matter he wished to
discuss. "I want to send an emissary to Rome,” he said, “for I have
not lost hope that the empire may yet return to these shores."

Merlin looked at him doubtfully. "My friend,
I fear that we can expect neither imperial aid nor the return of
the legions to our shores. Many chances there were in the last
century for a strong and worthy man to invigorate the empire, yet
all these chances went to dust, destroyed by treachery and murder.
Stilicho, Aetius, your father. I knew them all, Constantine, and
all were strong men and capable, yet each fell to an assassin's
blade. The small men, the deceivers, they have won, I fear."

"Alas, Merlin, you may be right, yet I feel
compelled to try. After Chalons, Aetius swore to me that he would
march to Britannia and reclaim the land for the empire. We were to
leave as soon as he set things to right in Italia. He rode south,
but he never returned. I beseeched him to take the purple, for I
knew Valentinian was unworthy and not to be trusted, and his
mother, that hellspawn Galla Placidia, even less. The army would
have followed him, as would I. But Aetius, for all his petty
scheming, was a loyal general of the empire, and he could not be
persuaded. So it was that he was murdered by a jealous and unworthy
master, and by the hands of Aetius' friends, Valentinian himself
was slain in vengeance."

Constantine doubled over in another spasm of
coughing, and Merlin leapt up to succor his friend. The coughing,
which had seemed to be a severe attack, ceased when Merlin placed
his hand on Constantine's back, as though the king were somehow
soothed by his companion's touch.

Constantine grabbed his goblet and took a
drink, clearing his throat forcefully. "Thank you, my friend. I am
fine now. And, as I was saying, I cannot help but hope that another
Aetius has risen in Rome, that the empire may yet be saved and
restored to its glory. If this be just an old man's wistful musing,
I know not, but we have had scant news from Rome since Aetius died,
and none at all in nigh on ten years. It is long past time we know
for certain - will the empire be restored, or are we truly
alone?"

Merlin sighed softly. "I am not hopeful of
success from such a quest, yet I see no harm in trying. Whom do you
propose to send?"

"I have considered it, and I have decided to
send Uther. Alas, Merlin, I fear he and I have been as water and
oil. I would that things between us had been different. I tell you
truly, Merlin, Uther is, in many ways, the most like me. All my
sons are noble men and fill me with a father's pride, but my
youngest was born with the lion's heart. Would that he were eldest,
yet men cannot control such matters."

Merlin looked concerned. "Uther will not want
to leave you when battle is in prospect."

Constantine's face betrayed a slight smile.
"Indeed. But the boy must learn that duty and honor demand more
than courage in battle. Uther is the youngest, so he is destined to
serve his elder brother, and he must do so in many ways, not just
with axe and sword. Perhaps such a journey will teach this to my
son, for he will see many things and come to know a world far
larger than Powys or Britannia."

"There is greatness in Uther.” Merlin spoke
abruptly, with considerable emotion. "I feel it strongly. Such
travels, I believe, will give him much. I think your plan is a wise
one."

They spoke a bit longer, but finally Merlin
bade his friend to retire, for he was weak and fatigued, and the
morrow would be a long and trying day. Taking leave of his
companion, Constantine walked to his bedchamber, but he knew he
would not sleep. My body is dying, he thought, but my mind is still
strong. I will see that my kingdom does not fall, by God, whatever
I must do. Just give me the time, Lord, for there is much work
ahead.