"Not tonight?"
"Absolutely not, Uncle. They're Lot's men and Lot is an evil and vicious whoreson. Let them cool their heels for a few days. It will do no harm. Receive them, quarter them, feed them and let them wait."
I was suddenly acutely uncomfortable. "No," I said. "Wait a moment. There's something out of kilter here, something I don't like." They both looked at me questioningly and I shook my head. "It doesn't make sense. Lot may be everything you say he is, Cousin, but he's also bold, and he's cunning. He must have some plan in mind to send these people here, and whatever they are in truth, I'll wager they are far from ambassadors. They could be spies, but to what purpose?" A sudden, errant thought clicked into place. "Time!" I said. "He might be trying to buy time." They frowned at me in puzzlement, clearly not understanding. I could only shake my head. "I don't know why, but the idea simply occurred to me that we might be doing exactly what he wants if we keep these men waiting."
"You might be right, at that, Cousin Longhead." Uther was still frowning, but more thoughtfully now. "But even if you are, we'll achieve nothing by meeting with them tonight. I won't be of any use to you, that much I can warrant. I'm standing here and talking, but I am dead on my feet, and yet I want to be there to hear what they have to say."
"So be it." My father had made his decision. "We will talk with them in the morning. For now we'll leave them here in your care and we two will take no heed of them. See to their quartering yourself, Uther, but then come to my quarters before you do anything else. Cay and I will be waiting for you." He clapped Uther on the shoulder and pushed me forward with his other arm, and we walked away together, leaving Uther with his guests.
We headed directly for my father's quarters, and as we approached the main door of the building in which he was housed, I saw young Donuil trying to attract my attention. My father saw him, too, and left no doubt in my mind as to how he felt. "Now, by the Cross of Christ, here comes your tame heathen. Get rid of him, Cay. We have more important things to do than waste time with him!"
I stopped and Donuil hurried towards me, nodding uncertainly to my father who strode on without acknowledgement. I held up my hand to stem the young man's words before he could utter them. "Donuil, I have no time to talk to you now. My father has called me into conference and has no time to waste."
"But—"
"No buts, Donuil! I am commanded, and if you are to work with me, you'll have to learn what that means. I'll seek you out as soon as I am free, I promise. For now, however, I must go." I walked on and he stepped aside with a crestfallen, worried look.
As I entered my father's quarters, I met one of the troopers hurrying out. I was still looking over my shoulder at him as I stepped into the room.
"I sent him for wine. Uther will have a thirst on him, I suspect, and talking is dry work."
"Aye. So is listening. You look worried, Father. What do you suspect?"
He had removed his cloak and helmet and now he shrugged out of his swordbelt and sprawled in a comfortable chair. "Sit down. I don't know why, but I don't like this. Not one little bit of it. I want to question Uther more closely on the circumstances of this 'request' from the bishop. Lot is an animal and a cunning one. This thing stinks of some pending perfidy."
I had been removing my own outer garments and now I settled into a chair across from him.
"I've been thinking," I said, straightening my tunic beneath me. "Uther said the bishop went back to the fort. That must mean that Uther was encamped close by, perhaps in front of its very gates. That would mean he had been able, with only five hundred men, of whom he lost almost a hundred, to drive Lot's entire army within the gates."
"You're guessing, lad." My father's voice was sceptical. "I can't see any way that Uther could defeat Lot's army with only five hundred men. But you're right about one thing. It seems strange that he could be that close to Lot's stronghold and still feel safe enough to make a camp."
As he finished speaking, Uther came in, unfastening his cloak, closely followed by the trooper bearing a tray with a flagon and cups. "Ah! Mother's milk!" he said, eyeing the jug. "Pour me a large one, trooper. I have half the dust of the south-west on the roof of my mouth." The soldier poured and passed the cups around, leaving as we drank to the safe return of the hero. Uther drained his cup and refilled it before perching comfortably on the table's edge. "God! That tastes good! Uncle Picus, you're obviously waiting to hear something. What is it?"
"The news of your campaign."
"I told you. We were victorious."
"You lost a hundred men."
Uther's face grew serious. "Aye. I lost a hundred. Thirty will have a chance to ride again, but the other seventy are gone."
"How?"
"Mainly in one bad trap, along the coast of Cornwall."
"What happened?"
"I learned an expensive lesson. We rode into a trap in broad daylight, and were cut down."
"Tell me."
Uther heaved a sigh. "I've never seen the like of it," he said. "We had not sighted the enemy in three days, but we were following their trail, which was plain to see. We had come on the scene of a skirmish. There must have been sixty corpses, obviously killed in battle, and a group of ten who had been executed. They were all stripped of clothes and weapons."
"Who were they? Have you any idea?"
Uther shook his head. "None at all. I only know they weren't mine. Anyway, the tracks leading away from the spot were plain to see, so we followed them."
"For three days?"
"That's right."
"And you saw nothing of the enemy?"
"We didn't even know if this was the enemy. Not Lot's men, at least, although anyone we met there would be an enemy."
"Wait a moment. What about the party you rode out to meet? The ones who overran our outpost?"
"Saw neither hide nor hair of them. We found signs of their passage, headed away from here to the south-west, and we followed them, but we lost the trail as soon as we hit hard ground. After that, we were searching for shadows."
"You saw no one at all?"
"That's right, Uncle. Not a soul. The land was empty."
"Until you found these corpses?" Uther nodded solemnly. "And after that you followed more tracks for three days until you rode into a trap." Another nod. "Didn't you have scouts out?" Uther merely raised an eyebrow at that, not even deigning to answer the question. "Well? Did you have scouts out?"
"Of course we did."
"Then how in the name of Christ's Cross could you ride into a trap?"
"Without the slightest difficulty, Uncle. Our scouts rode right through it without even suspecting its existence and I followed them in a similar frame of mind."
My father snorted. "I suppose you will tell us about it?" His heavy sarcasm was completely lost on Uther.
"Certainly, if you'll allow me to." I ducked my head to hide an involuntary smile. I would not have dared to tweak my father's nose in such a fashion. Uther, however, went on imperturbably. "We came to the coast, eventually. It is very rocky in those parts, and the tracks we were following kept close to the top of the cliffs. We had the cliffs and the sea on our right, and the land rose slowly and gradually on our left. There were no trees to speak of, and our scouts kept high on the hills, where they could see for miles. I had them ranging for three miles ahead of us and three out on our left flank. There was nothing, no one. And then the enemy hit us." He paused and we were content to let him take his time. "We had been on rolling terrain for more than a day—unchanging, open grassland along the top of the cliffs. The land higher up was knee-deep in gorse and bracken—nothing tall enough to hide even a man lying down, but thorny and painful enough to make our horses' lives miserable, so we kept below it, on the open grass."