"What about livestock?"
"To the fort. The stables might be crowded for a while, but that's too bad. Now you had better get busy, my friend. I have five more farms to visit by mid-morning. And be sure to keep your men aware of the importance of this whole thing. We are dealing here with a treachery that threatens our very survival. See to it."
"Don't worry about us, Commander Merlyn. We'll do our duty."
"Good man."
By noon, I was back in Camulod, my rounds completed, and for the next hour or two I checked on the progress of the arrangements I had made the night before. I was congratulating myself on how everything was going according to plan when I heard my name whispered urgently, and looked to my left to see young Donuil beckoning to me from the entrance to his quarters. I remembered only then that I had promised to speak with him the night before, and I felt a momentary twinge of guilt that was very quickly lost in my curiosity over why he was being so furtive. I moved towards him and he ducked back inside. I stopped at the threshold, leaning against the door frame.
"Donuil? What's wrong, man? Are you in hiding? What have you done?"
"Come inside, Caius Merlyn, and close the door. I have to talk with you!"
I stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind me. His quarters were much like my own but smaller and darker, with a tiny window that let in a minimum of light. He was sitting on the edge of his bed in deep shadow and I had a sudden, uncomfortable feeling that something was far from right with him. I stood there and looked at him for a long time, waiting for him to speak, until I began to grow impatient.
"What's going on, Donuil? Why all the secrecy? What is this?"
"You should have come to me last night, Commander Merlyn. You promised that you would. I waited all night."
I found myself laughing in mild embarrassment. He sounded almost like a jilted lover. "I'm sorry. I intended to, but we had an emergency to deal with, and your request slipped my mind. I forgot."
"What kind of emergency makes a man like you forget a promise? Had it to do with Lot's men?"
I shrugged. "It could have had, I suppose, but not—" I broke off, realizing what he had asked me. "How did you know they were Lot's men?"
"Because I know them. That's what I had to talk to you about. And that's why I'm staying here in my room. I don't want them to know I'm here."
"Why? Are you afraid of them?"
His eyes flashed at me from the shadows. "I am, and I have reason to be. So do you. They are men to fear, those two."
"How so? Why should I be afraid of them? They are here on a peaceful embassy."
"Disabuse yourself of that thought, Commander. Those two are incapable of anything to do with peace. They are assassins. The best that King Lot has, or the worst, depending on the point of view."
I crossed to the single chair in the room and put my foot up on the seat. "How do you know this, Donuil? Have you met them?"
"Aye. Once, in my father's hall. It was the one with the different eyes that I heard call you Caius the Coward."
"Oh? That's interesting. Tell me more about them, and about why the sight of them can keep you hiding here."
"They're magicians. Warlocks."
"Oh come, Donuil! There's no such thing as magic."
He looked at me, unimpressed by my scoffing. "You tell that to your soldiers, Commander. Don't waste your breath on me or any of my people. These men are evil. They are in league with Darkness. And they are never what they seem to be. Death walks at their side and lays his hand on everyone they deal with."
I grunted in disgust and sat down. "Very well, I'll believe you. They are magicians. Now tell me something about them I can deal with. They are men, too, I presume?"
He ignored my sarcasm. "Aye, they are men, after a fashion, but they have none of the needs or the desires of ordinary men. They live only to serve their master, Lot. It is as though they are mindless, otherwise. I hid from them, not wanting them to know I am here, for if they know that, they'll be warned."
"Warned about what?"
"About whatever it is they are here for. If they see me here, free, they'll know I'll tell you what I know of them, if they don't kill me first."
"Come now, Donuil, you're being ridiculous."
"Aye. So you say. I've seen them kill a man who was in a locked and guarded room, just for the sport of it. Just to prove they could do it."
"Prove it to whom?"
"To my father, and to the rest of us. They told us to pick a man at random, which we did, and to lock him up, under guard, anywhere we pleased. We chose one of their men, and the poor fellow went white with the terror that was in him. We took him to a strong hut, all of us. There must have been twenty men there, and the tall one, the one they call Caspar, ordered us to tie the man hand and foot and put a stifle in his mouth. When that was done, he had us all gather round and watch as he sat staring at the man for a long time. The fellow grew deathly still and lost consciousness, although Caspar never touched him. Finally, the big fellow got up and told us to cut the man loose. We cut him loose, removed the binding from his mouth," and he came back to life and started screaming. Caspar and the other one just laughed at him and walked away.
"We locked the fellow up and put guards all around the hut and we all went back into my father's hall, where Memnon, the creature with the funny eyes, began to entertain us in a way of which I've never seen the like. He could make things disappear and reappear somewhere else. We were all amazed and more than a bit afraid, until Caspar interrupts and says, 'The man is dead.' I was sent to look, with two of my brothers. Our own men were still on guard, Nobody had come near the place, they swore. The fellow inside had stopped his howling. My brother opened the door and we went in. The man was dead. Not a mark on him. Not a cut or a bruise or a stain. He was just dead, his face twisted up in terror and his mouth open wide in a scream."
"Donuil, that's just not possible."
"I know, Commander, and if I hadn't been the one to find him, I'd never have believed it myself."
"How old were you at the time?"
"As old as I am now! It was not three months ago." His voice was emotionless and I was impressed in spite of myself.
"So. Why do you think Lot would have sent these two here?"
"To cause death. Why else? It's what they do. It's all they do. I talked with some of their own men about the two of them. Do you know, even their own soldiers hate them and are deathly afraid of them? One fellow told me that they learned their heathen crafts in foreign lands far to the east, beyond the Saxon wildernesses. They know the secrets—all the secrets—of murder. They have poisons, they say, that can kill in a hundred different ways. They can burn a man to death without fire, just by cutting his skin!"
That one brought me erect. "Say that again?"
"I said, they can burn a man to death without fire, just by cutting his skin."
"What does that mean?" He heard the strain in my voice.
"I don't know, Commander. That's just what I've been told." I felt a grim determination settle over me as I thought about what Donuil had told me, but I kept silent as he continued. "I don't know what reason they've given you for being here, either, but it's a lie, whatever they told you. Lot keeps these two only to spread terror. Be sure of that, Commander. They are here to kill, and to spread fear." My mind was filled with imagined screams, and I saw Uther's soldiers writhing in agony. The faces of the two men grew vivid in my mind's eye as the voice in my head put names to each of them: Caspar and Memnon. I was barely aware of Donuil's next words. "They're not from Britain, you know, Commander? They're from some place called Egypt, beyond the seas."
Memnon and Caspar! My decision was there in my head almost before I was aware of it. I rose quickly to my feet. "Where are they quartered? Do you know?"