The Dragon's Banner (5 page)

There he indeed found tasks that needed
completing, and he set to work. There was a dispute between two
lords that needed to be settled and, with his father in council and
his brothers all busy, it fell to him. He listened to both, though
the argument between them was tiresome and petty, and when they had
finished, he made his judgment. The loser began to protest, but
Uther silenced him with a cold stare, for despite his youth, all
knew he was a great warrior and that his patience was short.

After he'd finished with the feuding lords,
he had to deal with some merchants, for House Pendragon was
preparing for war, and Constantine was buying every manner of
provision and supply. The traders were as argumentative as the
lords, and Uther had to carefully review the contracts with Carwin,
his father's master of the treasury. It was many hours before all
was resolved and, after he was done, Uther sat on a bench in the
courtyard and rubbed his aching forehead.

By God, he thought, rather would I face a
dragon in single combat than face these duties of kingship. Merlin
was right, he thought grmily, more there is to wise rule than
prowess in battle. Would I be able to master all of this? Perhaps
it is best that I am youngest, for I shall be the sword of my
house, and thus shall be my place. Let my brothers review accounts
and settle petty feuds between vassals.

Still on his mind was Igraine, for he could
not banish her visage from his thoughts. While listening to the
lords or haggling with the merchants, never was she more than a
moment from his mind. Sitting on the bench he resolved to see her
again, and after dark he slipped out of the castle and back down to
the camps. He didn't want to cause any kind of commotion; he just
wanted to see Igraine and have some time to talk to her. So instead
of walking openly into the camp, he snuck around the rear of
Igraine's tent and called to her.

"Igraine," he said several times in a hushed
voice. "Do not be scared...it is Uther Pendragon."

His hand was pressed against the fabric of
the tent, and finally he heard movement from the other side. He
felt someone pressing against his hand from the other side.

"Lord Uther." He recognized the voice at once
as Igraine's. "It is late, my lord."

Uther pressed his lips against the tent.
"Indeed it is. I would speak with you if you are willing. Can you
leave the camp without anyone noticing?"

"Yes, I think so.” She was whispering softly.
"Stay where you are and I will come to you as quickly as I
may."

Uther heard her move inside the tent for a
time, and then there was silence. He stood there for perhaps
fifteen minutes, listening to his heart thump as it had only ever
done in battle. Finally, he heard soft footsteps approaching, and
then Igraine stood before him. She was clad in a pale green dress
woven from the finest material and decorated with delicate lace.
Her hair was pulled tight, with an intricate braid running down her
back. Earrings of gold and silver dangled from her lobes, and she
wore a necklace of precious stones. Her fingers were adorned with
rings, including one set with a magnificent blue sapphire. Uther
took note and smiled, for surely she had not been resting in her
tent so attired.

She bowed gracefully. "Good evening, my
lord."

"I beg you, call me Uther, and I shall call
you Igraine."

She flushed slightly, but answered quickly.
"So I shall, Uther. Pray tell, what brings you out so late while
all others sleep?"

She is bold, Uther thought with satisfaction.
So different from the other women he knew, and so enthralling. What
is it about her that so draws me in? "You do, my lady, for since we
spoke earlier, you have been much on my mind, and I had to see you
again." Too forward, he thought, you will scare her.

But she only smiled. "Indeed? I am most
gratified that you feel so. Shall we walk? We could speak more at
ease rather than whisper."

"I would be delighted," he replied. She began
walking slowly, and he fell in beside her.

"I love the night." She looked up at the
stars and the moon just rising, nearly full, above the silhouette
of the castle. "It is so peaceful. Quiet, yet there is much to hear
if you listen."

"Never have I thought about it before.” Uther
looked up at the sky as he spoke. “But it is indeed so."

She shivered slightly. "There is a chill in
the air, for spring is still tentative, playing coyly with us."

Uther removed his cloak and placed it gently
over her shoulders. "Until spring commits, we shall have to make
our own way."

"Thank you my lor...I mean Uther. You are
very kind. Though I venture that I see a side of you that not many
have. I am grateful you have shown it to me."

Uther stopped walking and looked at her. "And
I have never met anyone like you, Igraine. You are
different...special. Intelligent, indeed, and gracious and
kind."

"You make me blush.” She smiled, looking back
at him. She started walking again, and Uther kept pace. "I have
known of you as a hero for years now, but never did I imagine what
you were actually like. You are not what I expected."

They walked long and spoke of many things.
This is not proper, Uther thought more than once, for me to be
alone with her at night. But he didn't care, for this was where he
wished to be. Never one for doing a thing merely because he was
told or expected to do so, he would not start now.

Finally, he realized with a start that the
early dawn light was rising, chasing away the curtain of night.
"Quickly...I must get you back to your tent before anyone awakes
and finds you gone."

When they reached the edge of the camp, Uther
peered carefully around and, seeing no one, he bade Igraine go back
to her tent, lest she be caught.

"I shall return tomorrow night.” He spoke
softly to her, great kindness in his voice. “I promise. Forget me
not before then." And with that he was gone, racing up the road to
the castle as the morning sun cast its first tentative rays over
the town.

Return he did, the next night and every other
of the council, and each time they walked and spoke until dawn,
parting in the morning with greater longing and sadness. On the
dawn of the day she was set to depart with her father and his
entourage, she took Uther's hand and dropped something into it,
closing his fist over the bauble. She stretched herself upon her
toes, for he was much taller than she, and kissed him softly on the
lips, before she giggled to herself and disappeared around the side
of the tent.

Uther opened his hand and looked at his palm.
In it was a beautiful silver ring with a perfect blue sapphire in
the center.

Just after dawn Uther awaited his father, for
he was determined to speak with him about Igraine. He sat in one of
the lesser halls, where Constantine typically spent his days
meeting with counselors and reviewing the business of the kingdom.
Now, of course, he was preparing for war, and his days had become
longer, for there was not time enough to attend to all that needed
to be done.

Indeed, the king's day was beginning early,
for Uther had been sitting no more than ten minutes when he heard
footsteps approaching. "Ah, Uther, my son." Constantine spoke as he
walked through the door, his voice loud, but hoarse from days of
arguing at the council. "Glad I am you are here, for I would speak
with you."

God, he has become old and frail, Uther
thought sadly, as he watched his father enter the room. The old
man, once so strong and energetic, now limped to his seat as if
each step were a misery. "I would speak with you as well,
father."

"I have a task for you, my son, and I bid you
do as I ask and not fight me. You and I have had many clashes, and
though often I have wished for you to be more obedient, I have come
to be proud that my son is a man of resolve. I would take back much
of what has been said between us."

Uther opened his mouth to speak, but
Constantine raised his hand. "Nay, my son, let me continue. For I
would send you on a journey now, though I know you will not wish to
go with war brewing. Yet I bid that you obey me in this, and that
it not be a test of wills between us." He paused and looked into
his son's steel-gray Pendragon eyes. "Uther, I ask you for your aid
on this. I need your help."

Uther was taken aback, for never had his
father spoken thusly to him. It was strange, for he felt both
strength and weakness in Constantine, as if great resolve was
gathered to overcome crushing fatigue. Though he wanted to talk
about Igraine, Uther could do naught but listen to his father's
words. "What would you have me do, father?"

"The council has ended." Constantine’s voice
cracked as he spoke, and he paused to clear his throat. "Much have
we achieved, though great efforts remain before us. Yet, the kings
have made one demand...that I send an emissary to seek aid from the
empire. I know not if this be a fool's errand or no, but I must
honor the request. Indeed, I too have wondered if the emperor would
aid us, if the legions would return to Britannia and aid us in
driving back the invader. I must send a delegation of high rank,
for an emissary of lesser men would be an insult to the emperor. Of
all my sons, Uther, you have no wife to leave behind while you
embark on such a long journey."

Uther winced at his father's mention of a
wife, thinking again of Igraine, though Constantine did not notice,
and he continued his entreaty. "Also, of all my sons, indeed of all
my nobles, you are the greatest warrior, and I shall fear less for
you on a long and perilous journey. Go to Rome, Uther, and bring
the emperor our entreaties that he aid us, as Flavius Aetius
promised me so many years ago. Bring me back your report on the
state of the empire, for we have had no word in many long years. I
would that you do this just for me, for I would know myself if
there is any hope of the legions returning. But I need you to do it
for the council as well, for if we find there is no help from
abroad, at least they will know for certain that we stand or fall
on our own actions."

Uther sat silently for a moment, surprised by
what his father had asked of him. Were it not for the prospect of
war and his feelings for Igraine, he would long for such a journey,
for he sought adventure, and never before had his father entrusted
him with an important task such as this.

"Very well, father." Uther knew he could not
refuse. "I shall do as you ask of me. I shall go to Rome, and if
there are allies there, I shall find them."

"Excellent." Constantine looked proudly upon
his youngest son. "You have my full confidence, Uther. And you
shall see many things, wonders that your brothers never shall. You
will be forever changed by this journey, my son. I know, for I have
been where you now go.”

Constantine leaned over and put his hand on
Uther’s shoulder. "I have spoken with King Ogyruan, and Leodegrance
will join you on your journey. I wanted you to have a trusted
friend at your back. And Leodegrance will be a better king for what
he experiences on these travels."

Constantine rose from his seat, the effort
clearly painful. Uther got up also, and the two men embraced
warmly. Uther had not mentioned Igraine to his father, for he
thought to wait until he returned. He did not want her to mourn him
if he was fated not to return from his great journey, though little
did he understand her feelings if he thought he could save her from
grief if he fell. He resolved to ride to her father's stronghold
and speak with her before he left, but he found himself compelled
to depart almost at once and lost the chance. Less than a fortnight
after his father bade him go, Uther was on the southern coast
boarding ship for Gaul. Igraine would have to wait until he
returned.

Merlin stood on a bluff and watched Uther's
ship sail away. He spoke softly to himself. "There sails one of
your servants, the new God, and he is faithful to thee. I feel that
he shall be a mighty force in what is to happen, though I cannot
divine what role he is to play. He will suffer terrible torment, I
fear, and win great glory and power. I speak now to thee, oh God of
the Christians, I who am a relic of the old deities, whose power
was in root and branch and raging rapid from the dawn of time. Into
his hands, and those of his line, I shall place what remains of
that power, that new and old may be as one to heal the wounds of
this ravaged and bleeding land."

Uther Pendragon was strong and powerful, and
despite his young age he'd slain many a foe in battle and never met
an adversary he couldn't best. Until now. For the Narrow Sea was
like no enemy Uther had ever encountered, and against its assault
he lay prostrate, leaning over the wale of the ship in such
distress as he had never known.

Leodegrance at first made playful fun of his
friend, such a valiant hero reduced to infirmity. But so great was
Uther's agony that his companion soon ceased his amusement and
tried to sooth him any way he could. Leodegrance had spent many
days on the fishing boats along Cameliard's coast, and he was not
overly distressed by the sea's fury, rough though this crossing had
been.

Uther's torment was prolonged by the need to
sail south as well as east, for northern Gaul was said to be
overrun by the Franks and, as such, too perilous a route for their
small band. To the south the Visigothic king held large sections of
Gaul and Hispania as Legatus of the emperor. Uther's father had
fought the Huns alongside Theodoric the Visigoth, under Flavius
Aetius. In the aftermath of battle, he had attended the great
Gothic king as he lay mortally wounded on the field of Chalons.
Likely they would receive welcome or at least succor in the court
of the Visigoths, where Theodoric’s son, Euric, ruled.