Free The King's Wizard by James Mallory Page A

lordling who had held thecastle hanged from the highest tower while his men-at-arms pledged themselves to Uther.
    Now secure behind Winchester’s walls, Uther gathered his resources and drilled his army, and blessed the winter that kept
     him safe from enemy attack. Vortigern’s army was ten times the size of Uther’s. He needed time to prepare.
    “Can we count on your people for supplies, Cornwall?” he asked. Uther’s knights were gathered in the throne room, having come
     from early Mass to hear the reports of the army scouts.
    Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall, looked up from the letter he was reading. “They will do what is right, Your Grace, in the name
     of Christ our Lord.”
    Gorlois’s wife Igraine held Tintagel Castle against attack while Gorlois—a loyal and sometimes overdevout Christian knight—was
     here. Uther counted on Cornwall for food as well as men-at-arms, though he knew Gorlois was ambitious and hoped for Cornwall’s
     independence once Uther triumphed.
    Suddenly the door of the Great Hall opened. A servant crossed the room to whisper into Uther’s ear. His lords looked on curiously
     at the figure standing in the doorway, awaiting permission to enter.
    The man who stood there was about Uther’s age. In comparison to Uther’s Romanesque armor, he was dressed like some wild Pict
     from over the Wall, in a long cloak trimmed with shining black feathers and tiny animal skulls.
    “You’re welcome to Winchester Castle, Merlin,” Uther said urbanely. A man who wished to challengea warlord such as Vortigern must be prepared to take his allies where he found them.
    “Oh, are you Merlin the wizard?” Gorlois asked with false surprise. A ripple of tension went through the men in the room.
     Uther saw Lord Ardent—he had brought his troops over to Uther after Vortigern had sacrificed his daughter Nimue to the Great
     Dragon—whispering intently to Sir Boris.
    “Wizard?” Sir Boris said indignantly, stepping between Merlin and the king’s throne. “We’re all good Christians here! We don’t
     believe in your blasphemy!”
    The young man—or wizard—smiled gently, refusing to be insulted. “That’s your choice, sir,” he said, bowing in acknowledgment.
     “But Christian or Pagan, I hope you believe in fresh news.”
    “Well, is it good or bad?” Uther asked, sitting back and crossing his legs. This wizard looked as if he’d at least be more
     interesting than another dull day spent reviewing battle plans.
    “It depends on how you use it,” Merlin said smoothly. He walked toward the king, one hand upon the hilt of the sword at his
     hip, and the lords who were gathered about Uther fell back.
    “Vortigern will attack you within days,” he said.
    The tension in the room dissolved as the nobles laughed loudly, dismissing Merlin’s words as those of a madman or a fool.
    “No one fights in the winter,” Gorlois said, his pale eyes boring into Merlin’s. He fingered the golden cross at his throat
     as though it could protect him from Merlin’s wizard-magic.
    “It isn’t done, sir!” Sir Boris blustered. He was a round, redheaded man whose small suspicious eyes gave him the look of
     a pig. “Rules of war. We fight in the summer and rest in the winter. It’s
tradition!
” His tone was condescending, as if he thought Merlin could not be expected to understand the ways of civilized men.
    “Vortigern isn’t interested in rules or tradition,” Merlin answered evenly. “He wants to win. If circumstances were different,
     I’d favor him.”
    He ignored the jeering nobles and spoke directly to the Young Prince. He was the only one in the room who mattered. Uther
     understood the necessity of kings. He would listen because he had to. Now that he had returned to Britain, he must win at
     all costs.
    “His army’s already on the march. Take it or leave it.” He shrugged, turning away from the throne.
    Before Merlin had gone more than a few steps, Uther had risen from his throne to