"We started back the following day. Two days ago we surprised a small army of Saxons—real ones. That's where we took our other casualties. We lost three killed and the rest were wounded. We smashed the Saxons. They fought to the death. We obliged them. That's all I have to tell."
"You had thirty wounded in that fight?"
"No. About twenty. Twenty-two, in fact. The others were hurt during the token resistance I mentioned earlier. The fighting along the road to Lot's fort."
"Wait now, Uther. Let me understand this fully. You reached Lot's fort, his main camp, with almost no difficulty, apart from that one encounter with the bowmen. You arrived to find the place closed up against you, with everyone inside. Is that correct?"
Uther nodded.
"There was nobody outside at all?"
"Not a soul."
"So you could have besieged them?"
"Aye, we could have. But what was the point, and where my justification? I had no proof that he had moved against us, none at all. I felt as though we were the invaders, the unprovoked aggressors, on his land. He has some able negotiators in his pay. In any case, I had only four hundred men. I had no way of knowing how many he could field against us. The sea was at his back, too. If those galleys we'd seen were really his, they could make nonsense of any attempt at siege. His fort is built right above the shore, on the cliffs there."
My father was pacing the floor by this time, his eyes fixed on Uther so that his head swivelled as he traversed the room. "So. Lot presented you to yourself as the aggressor. He made no overtly hostile moves. He disclaimed knowledge of this disgusting thing with the poisoned arrows, and he dispatched these two 'ambassadors' to talk to us." His gaze swung to me. "Caius, you are the thinker. What's he trying to achieve here? He's up to something."
"Clearly," I admitted, "although I fear we'll find out nothing until we hear this embassy. Uther, did he make any reference at all to the attack from the north by the Hibernians?"
He shook his head. "None at all."
My father snapped his thumb and forefingers. "You're right, Caius! He is attempting to buy time. But to what purpose?"
"The apparent purpose doesn't matter, Father. It's the time itself that is important, I'm convinced of that, and I think I know how and why, but I must ask you both to bear with me and what might seem like foolish questions. By sending his people back with you, Uther, he was sure of gaining both time and information. Had we lost to the Hibernians, or been mauled by them, you would have ridden home to a very different reception than the one you received. His 'ambassadors' would have been able to report the situation from their own, personal observation. They will still be able to do that, since Lot has no idea that we know of his alliance with the Hibernians."
"What are you saying?" Uther's face had grown dark at this new information. "There was no coincidence in the double attack? Lot has allied himself with Outlanders?"
"Aye," I answered him. "He and his people have been busy. They have made friends among the Scots in Hibernia. Friends, it now appears, who could aid him militarily on land, and also keep him well supplied by sea in the event of a siege of his own stronghold."
"How did you find out about this?"
"By accident," Father intervened. "Cay made a bargain with a prince among the enemy. Kept him as hostage in return for sparing the lives of about a thousand of his men."
Uther turned to me at this, his eyebrows raised.
"It worked out well," I said, forestalling his question. "I trust the man. His word will hold, and that means that his father's people will make no move against us while we have him. Five years. He was the one who told us of the alliance." Uther looked confused. "Don't you see it yet, Uther?" I pressed him. "Lot can have no idea that things turned out the way they did. As far as he is concerned, we believe we have been attacked by raiders from Hibernia, that's all. If we drive them off, it will be at cost to us—the higher the better, from his viewpoint. In the meantime, he makes a diversionary move against us, timed to coincide with their attack, to force us to split our troops. Having achieved that, he withdraws ahead of us without provoking us, making you appear the aggressor. Then he does attack you, mauls your men and your morale significantly, but goes to great lengths to maintain an appearance of innocence. He must have been sadly disappointed by the small scale of your losses.
"In any event, as the innocent, offended party he has the right to send back messengers with his aggrieved complaints about our invasion of his territories. These spies, armed in their innocent appearances, will quickly bring him information on the success of his allies' incursion against us. Whichever way the affair turns out, he has gained time and intelligence about our condition and our state of readiness against further attack. Best of all, however, in the aftermath of such sustained action by us on two fronts, his spies will be able to form an intelligent estimate of our real strength in men and horses."
During this summation my father had been nodding in grim-faced agreement. When Uther finally spoke, there was a tone of unwilling admiration in his words.
"That whoreson! What a devious, treacherous, unprincipled—"
"Aye, all of those and more, Uther," I said, interrupting him, "But include brilliant, and painstaking. If he were on our side, he'd be one of our master strategists. The flaw in his planning has been accidental. We turned the tables on his allies and arranged the truce we did, and we came out of it with more information from a first-hand source than Lot could possibly have anticipated."
"So be it, Caius," said my father. "You may have entered the mind of our antagonist far better than either Uther or I could have done. I for one can find no fault in your logic, or your deductions. But I confess your reference to buying time still leaves me grasping for meaning. Why should he need time? For what? What can we expect next?"
"He may have bought it already...I'm guessing now." They nodded, their eyes intent, and I took a few extra seconds to prepare my next thoughts. "I think Lot is here, close by us now. I think he'll attack us soon with everything he has, as soon as he can, before we are ready for anything. Uther, did you receive any indication at all of the strength he had concealed within his walls?"
A brief headshake. "Absolutely none. It could have been empty, or he could have had men piled in there, row on row, like logs. I have no idea."
"That's what I thought. Very well, visualize this, and bear in mind the type of man we have to deal with here.
Uther might have come home to face one of three situations: The first, and most desirable from Lot's point of view, would be that we had been completely beaten by the Scots invaders, and Uther would thus be riding into a deathtrap. The second would be that we had come home victorious, to whatever extent we might have been able to salvage a victory—I honestly do not believe Lot could have imagined such a complete victory as we have won, since God was clearly on our side and fighting with us, and Lot has little to do with any God. In this event, Uther would return to find us licking our wounds and recuperating from our exertions. The third possibility is that we might still be engaged in campaigning against the invaders, so Uther would find only a holding garrison in Camulod.
"Any one of these three possibilities would work to Lot's advantage. Remember, his spies ride with you, Uther, and you are supposedly convinced of Lot's blamelessness, despite any personal hatred you might have for him. Are you both with me thus far?" They nodded, still listening intently.