The Dragon's Banner (31 page)

Five men went down, and a few seconds later
the attackers were on them, dispatching the wounded men and
assailing those still standing. The defenders shouted the alarm,
but already Gorlois' men had broken casks of oil on two of the
great catapults, and a moment later both were engulfed in flames.
The alarm roused Uther's men, and they had begun to rally. The
raiders were soon fighting for their lives well short of the other
two ballistae. They fought briefly, pushed back by the growing
numbers of their adversaries. Finally, they fled back to their
boats, their pursuers close behind. Two boats managed to escape,
carrying fewer than half those who had sallied out. The sortie was
over. It had been a partial success, but a costly one.

Uther's tent was on the far side of the camp,
and by the time he arrived the battle was over. The two ballistae
burned brightly, giant torches lighting the area where the fight
had occurred, an area now littered with dead and wounded. As he
approached, a great wail began to rise from the warriors around the
stricken engines. A warrior staggered around from behind the great
fire. "He is down. King Leodegrance is down. He is gravely
wounded."

Uther ran to the man and grabbed him roughly
on the shoulders. "Where is he? Where is Leodegrance?" His voice
was harsh and urgent.

Before the dazed warrior could answer, Uther
saw a small group of men clustered about a figure lying on the
ground. Shoving the distraught man out of his way, he ran to the
spot and saw the stricken king of Cameliard. A javelin had pierced
his chest, and his tunic was soaked with blood.

Logan, one of his captains, knelt beside him.
He saw Uther and looked up. "I bade him wear his cuirass, but he
was too fatigued, and he would don naught but this soft leather."
The man, a grizzled warrior who had fought many battles alongside
Uther and Leodegrance, was choked with tears. "It is mortal, King
Uther. King Leodegrance is dying."

Uther pushed everyone aside and knelt over
his stricken friend. "Leo, it is Uther. Can you hear me?" His voice
was broken and strained with emotion.

Leodegrance turned his head and looked up at
Uther. His eyes were glistening and unfocused, and his lips were
slick with blood. He struggled to speak, and when he did his words
were bitter. "Curse this war of yours, for only ill shall come of
it." He coughed and tried to spit the blood from his mouth, but it
just dribbled down his cheek. "What has become of my friend, Uther
Pendragon? Down what wrong path have you turned my old companion.
God had judged me for following you. I pray he has mercy on
you."

He let out a great breath and faded away.
Uther commanded the unconscious king be borne to his tent, and he
ordered his own healer sent to his friend's side, though he knew it
was hopeless. Uther stood there long after Leodegrance had been
carried away, and for a moment he was uncertain. I have been the
cause of this, he thought. No man more just has ever lived than
Leodegrance. It is my fault. Forgive me, my friend.

But soon his rage began to build. "Cursed
Gorlois," he whispered, his voice dripping with hate. "Leodegrance
is a better man than you or I. You shall not outlive him." He
strode purposefully back toward the center of the camp. "Kelven!
Eldol! Rouse the men. We take Tintagel Castle at dawn."

Merlin could hear the sounds of the army
forming for the final assault, but he ignored it as he looked down
at Leodegrance. Usually impassive and unreadable, his eyes betrayed
great sadness. "This entire endeavor is evil, and I fear only more
ill shall come of it." He stared at the wounded king. Soon the
death struggle would begin.

For long Merlin stood there, having banished
all others from the tent. Finally, he made a decision. "No. This is
too much injustice. You are a man of untainted honor, perhaps the
only one I have met in my long lifetime. I shall not allow you to
die in this sorry affair."

Merlin breathed deeply, for what he intended
to do was not easy, and it would drain him greatly. "Have I even
the strength remaining to do this?" He whispered to himself, his
voice barely audible. Slowly, he pulled back the cloth of
Leodegrance's tunic , exposing the terrible wound. His men had
broken the javelin, but they had not dared to remove the point from
the king's chest. Indeed, thought Merlin, the blood loss will be
enormous. I must be careful.

He reached into the pockets of his robe and
pulled out two vials. One, which held a clear liquid, he placed
against Leodegrance's lips, carefully pouring some into his mouth
and raising his head so the fluid would slide down his throat.
"This will slow your body, my friend. You will seem almost as if
death has taken you, but you shall be only in restful slumber, and
it shall greatly slow the bleeding."

He pulled the cork from the second vial, and
almost immediately the room was filled with a pleasing scent, and
the smell of blood and death was driven from the room. Merlin
looked at the vial, which held but a few drops of thick, pink
liquid, and he spoke softly to himself. "Many years has it been
since I have seen the plant that bore this nectar, and I fear that
these few droplets are all that remain in this world. I pray this
be enough, for this worthy man deserves not this mean death."

Merlin grabbed the end of the javelin point
and pulled hard. It resisted at first then came free, leaving a
large hole in Leodegrance's chest. Blood welled up from the wound,
though far less than would have normally. Merlin poured the
droplets from the vial into the wound and then bound it tightly in
clean cloth. Then he sat next to Leodegrance, his hand over the
wound, and he began to chant softly, calling on the last traces of
powers and forces that had all but passed from this world.

"Rouse yourselves men, for today we take
Tintagel Castle. Therein lies a traitor, a foul creature who
compounds his treason by sending assassins in the night to fell
brave Leodegrance." Uther was mounted upon his great black steed,
and he rode along the line as he spoke. "Let nothing stop you
today. Many battles have we fought, brave warriors, and much glory
have you reaped."

The men responded, for Uther was a great
warrior and an inspiring leader. But the cheers were subdued, not
what they had been ten years before when the mere site of Uther
cause hysteria in the ranks. The old magic was gone, replaced with
a grudging sense of duty. They knew they were here because of some
treachery Gorlois had allegedly committed, but they didn't relish
fighting against old allies who had stood with them in the war
against Vortigern. They couldn't understand why they had been
rushed here before they could properly prepare and rally all their
numbers. They were loyal to Uther and would follow him where he
commanded, but they were troubled. Something seemed
somehow...wrong.

"Follow me now men, and we shall end this
fight today! We shall enforce our justice and return to hearth and
home, wife and family." With that Uther dismounted - horses were of
little use in attacking a fortress - and, sword pointed forward, he
ran toward the partial breach.

Their king's rally overcame their doubts and,
with one massive shout, the army surged forward, following Uther to
victory or death. The defenders stood upon the battlements, and
when the attackers reached the base of the walls they hurled
javelins and dropped stones and vats of oil upon them. The
attackers placed their scaling ladders and climbed up, seeking to
attain the battlements. Many were repulsed, their ladders
overturned or oil poured on the men as they climbed. But in two
places the troops reached the top, and the first men to seize the
positions held fast while their comrades streamed up and over the
crenellated walls.

At Leodegrance's breach, the wall had
partially collapsed, and Uther was the first up and over, followed
by Kelven and Eldol leading the pick of the men of Powys. They
crashed into the defenders and the battle was joined. Uther fought
as he had never done before, and around him lay the bodies of every
enemy who dared approach. At first the defenders held, bolstered by
the men on the walls above throwing down stones and javelins. But
more and more of Uther's men poured through the gap, and soon the
Cornish warriors were overwhelmed and driven back.

Along the wall to the south, Caradoc's men
had taken the battlements and one of the towers, and they were even
now streaming into the courtyard, pursuing the routed defenders.
Tintagel Castle was doomed, with attackers pouring through the
defenses at multiple locations.

Uther ran forward toward the main keep,
Gorlois' residence. Four Cornish warriors burst out of the entrance
and ran to the king. Kelven ran after him, with a group of Powys
troops, but before he could get there, Uther had slain all four
attackers and pushed his way inside. Kelven swore under his breath
and raced to follow his king into Gorlois' last bastion.

"Get the girls ready. We must leave here
now." Gorlois spoke harshly to his wife, and he slammed the door as
he left the room without another word.

Igraine knew something had been happening for
weeks now, and for the last few days it had been obvious the castle
was under siege. But Gorlois had kept her locked in her room and
would tell her nothing, becoming angry if she even asked. She still
had bruises from the last time she had tried.

She did not want to leave, preferring to take
her chances with an unknown enemy than to flee with her monster of
a husband. But she knew Gorlois would never allow her to remain,
and she would only earn another beating if she insisted. Besides,
she would never take such a chance with her daughters.

She began packing a few items into a small
leather bag. "Anna, Morgan. Come here, girls. We are going on a
trip." She couldn't understand. If Cornwall were under attack by
some invader, would not Uther as high king come to aid Gorlois? My
God, she thought frantically, could some enemy have already
defeated my beloved Uther? She couldn't imagine that was the case,
for Uther was the greatest warrior in Britannia, and his victory in
the last war had been total. But now she fretted for him and longed
to know what was happening.

"Anna, Morgan. Come to me now." She opened
the door to the room where the girls slept and peered inside. With
a start she saw that the door leading into the corridor was ajar.
Hurrying across the room she ran out into the hall. "Anna, Morgan.
Where are you, girls?" Her voice was shrill with worry.

She heard the sounds of fighting and then
Anna calling to her. "Mother, the men are fighting. Father is
fighting. Morgan is there." Her oldest daughter came bounding up
the stairs and ran to Igraine, who threw her arms around the
girl.

"Go back to your room, Anna." Igraine let go
of the girl, who stood there next to her mother without moving.
"Now, Anna. Back to your room." Igraine ran to the end of the hall
and down the circular stairs. The sounds of fighting were closer
now. She almost tripped and fell, but caught herself in time.

Igraine rounded the turn and came out on the
landing. She stopped with a gasp. Morgan was on the other side of
the room, pressed against the wall, and in between there were dead
and wounded men. In the center of the room was Gorlois with two of
his men fighting with an enemy. A moment later she shrieked. They
were fighting Uther.

As she was watching, Uther ducked and sliced
the throat of one of Gorlois' warriors, leaving a spray of blood
hanging in the air for an instant as the man fell to the floor. The
other warrior moved to attack, but Uther sidestepped his swing,
which impacted hard on the floor. He tried to recover his balance,
but too late. Uther has shoved his blade under his shoulder and
into the chest cavity.

Gorlois leaned forward to attack, but Uther
pulled his blade out of his last victim and turned to face his
enemy, just as Kelven and three warriors came running onto the
landing from the stairs opposite Igraine. They moved toward
Gorlois, but Uther waved them off. "Let us finish this,
Gorlois."

The king of Cornwall stood motionless,
paralyzed with fear. There was death in Uther's eyes, and Gorlois
new there was no escape. His heart was pounding, and his mind was
wild with panic, for he knew this was the end. But then Uther saw
Igraine standing against the wall by the stairs and his eyes fixed
upon her. Seeing his chance in Uther's distraction, Gorlois lunged
forward with his sword.

"Sire!" It was Kelven's panicked cry that
warned the king. Uther's gaze shifted just in time. He moved aside
and Gorlois' blade pierced his shoulder rather than his chest. The
cold steel drove through his jerkin and into the flesh. Without so
much as a shout of pain, Uther turned to face Gorlois, his sword
poised to strike. When the blow came, it was driven home with such
force that Gorlois' blade was knocked from his grasp and his arm
was broken.

The king of Cornwall sank to his knees,
shouting in pain and shaking with fear. "No!" shrieked Morgan as
Uther raised his blade one more time. The child ran from where she
had stood against the wall, trying to reach her father. But the
killing strike landed before she could reach him, and she got there
in time for him to fall to the floor at her feet, his blood
splattering on her dress.

Igraine ran to Morgan and took the screaming
girl into her arms, but she looked up at Uther. There he stood, his
arm covered in blood from the terrible shoulder wound. Igraine
stood in shock, and she longed to run to his arms. His tunic was
torn and she could see something hanging around his neck. It was a
ring on a chain. A ring she recognized immediately. Her eyes filled
with tears as she realized what had happened. She was a prisoner no
more. Her true love had come for her.