"That was all I needed to hear. I know Lot inherited his father's love of assembling mercenaries from beyond the seas, so I decided to ride over here myself and get our joint preparations underway without any waste of time. But even before we could leave to come here, the other scouting party came back, too . . . or what was left of it. They had set out to ride directly southwest into Cornwall, travelling cautiously and hoping to attract no unwelcome attention, holding to the west of Isca where the land is bleak and barren. But they were less than sixty miles into Lot's territories when they were found and challenged and forced to turn back. By that time, fortunately, they had seen all they needed to see, but they had to fight every mile of the way home, and they lost more than half their number.
"Lot has a large army gathering down there, Titus, and there's only one way for him to bring it out, as you and I both know. I don't think we have any time at all to waste sitting around talking. But I haven't even mentioned the most important information we uncovered with our overland expedition. The army my people found down there—the southern army, I've been calling it—is only half the story. According to the prisoners taken and questioned by my men, the call has gone out for an enormous assembly of men, all under Lot's banner, to take place to the northeast of here close by Aquae Sulis. When they are all together, they will start a systematic devastation of the towns in this region, beginning with Aquae itself and Glevum."
"What? But that's insane! There's nothing left in Aquae Sulis to plunder, nor in Glevum. Twenty years ago, even ten years ago, there might have been some point to that, but the towns are empty shells nowadays. Lot must know that."
Uther nodded, his face expressionless. "He probably does, but it won't make any difference to him. He is selling the idea of plunder for the taking. The picture of fat towns waiting to be sacked and looted is what he's using to raise his army, and you can be sure the rabble he's attracting have no idea his promises are empty. When they find out the truth, they'll be murderous, but Lot will be back in Cornwall by then, and we'll be the ones left to deal with it, on top of everything else."
"Hmm." Titus's face was still, his eyes narrowed. "What do your people tell you about Lot's preparations? Are they far advanced? And are any of his forces trained?"
"If any of them are, they'll be units who have fought together before now, on the continent, for the Romans, and they'll be in a minority. The vast majority of his people, as always, will be savages. Fearsome enough in hand-to-hand fighting, but totally lacking in any kind of co-ordinated skills. As for how close they are to being ready to move, your guess would be as good as mine. But simple prudence would dictate that we take no chances and incur no risks by being complacent."
Titus nodded. "Look, we can't rely on catching up with Merlyn and bringing him back here. He has been gone too long. My people would not even know where to begin searching for him. We know that he headed east originally, by way of Sorviodunum and Venta, but that is really all we know. He intended to improvise from then on, depending upon what he discovered along the way, and there is no certainty that he would even stay on the main roads if he encountered trouble at any point. So you and I had best decide on a campaign of our own, lacking his involvement."
Uther grimaced. "So be it. I don't like it but there seems to be no other choice. Tell me about this gathering in Verulamium . . . what did you call it, a debate?"
"Aye, that's what it is . . ." Titus launched into a brief description of the issues at stake among the Christian community in Britain, reminding him of the visiting monastic priests who a few years earlier had threatened all the people of Camulod with excommunication and damnation if they did not immediately renounce all their former beliefs and do as they were bidden for the salvation of their souls. Merlyn's father, Picus Britannicus, had refused to be bullied or browbeaten by the zealots and had expelled them from the Colony, declaring publicly in Council that he would make no decisions regarding the safety and welfare of his people's immortal souls until he had heard the reasoning underlying such sweeping changes clearly defined by a source possessing more authority and dignitas than a herd of unwashed, intolerant, wandering priests.
A debate to address this question was to take place within the following month in the great Roman theatre of Verulamium, and Merlyn had decided to attend the gathering, as his father would have, in order to keep track of what was happening within the Church's teachings and equally to ensure that the bishops making these decisions should be aware that there was a strong Christian centre of influence in Camulod, far to the southwest.
Uther himself had never been more than nominally Christian, seeing no more appeal in the Christian god than he found in any of the other, older gods of Cambria and Britain, or even Rome. He had been baptized a Christian years earlier, but that had been to please his grandmother. It had nothing to do with any feeling of personal conviction. Now he looked at Titus, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, frustration stamped on his features.
"You believe this journey of his—this expedition all the way into foreign, hostile territory—is worthwhile, even though it calls him away when he is needed here by his own people? This is not merely grandiose nonsense?"
Titus shrugged. "What should I know of such things? Is it not enough that Merlyn thinks so?"
For a few moments, Uther looked as though he would answer that with an angry negative, but then he sighed and accepted the inevitable.
"Yes, well, I suppose we will leave him to get on with it, then, for lack of any real alternative, and we will make our own plans for how we defend ourselves during his absence." Uther dragged a hand wearily down his face, closing his eyes as though to banish his frustration and focus his thoughts, "We should be combining our forces, Camulod and Pendragon Cambria, more than we have ever done before, melding bowmen and infantry in an army group consisting of two or possibly three compact, sell sufficient armies, just as Picus Britannicus described to us a thousand times. Each army will be self- reliant and will have set battle tactics, but all three will function as a solid legion whenever the need arises. And surrounding and protecting them, heavy cavalry strike formations, mobile and hard-hitting, radiating in all directions, but always launching from the central hub formed by the army. What think you?"
Titus smiled. "I think Picus Britannicus taught you well. And you know I would never disagree with a style of warfare I was taught to fight in boyhood. Fortunately, we have already begun training more of our people to fight together, combining their different skills, after last year's events. I see no great difficulty facing us there, other than the obvious lack of time to prepare. Let me send for Flavius. I have the feeling we're going to need his input right from the outset."
Uther remained in Camulod for three days on that occasion and slept on each of the three nights in the home of his grandmother. From Luceiia, during one long evening's talk, he learned the story of Deirdre's pregnancy and Merlyn's marriage, and if he felt any pain over his evident exclusion from his cousin's nuptials, he said nothing of it, remembering the suspicions Merlyn had harboured over the night Deirdre, who at that time had still been called Cassandra, had been attacked and brutally raped. He also heard from his grandmother the strange story of how Deirdre's real name was discovered when she was reunited with her brother Donuil after years of separation.
The remainder of Uther's time in Camulod was spent in conference with the interim Joint Commanders Titus and Flavius and the senior staff officers of the armies and garrison of Camulod, drawing up plans to deal with the invasion they all believed would come from Cornwall and trying to cover as many contingencies as they could envision. By the time he left to return to Tir Manha on the fourth morning after his arrival, it had been decided that Uther would command an entire brigade of heavy cavalry, one thousand strong, during the coming campaign. In the meantime, he must return to Cambria and raise as many Pendragon bowmen as he could within the month, bringing them back to Camulod to train with the infantry for as long as circumstances would permit.