her from his thoughts for more than a few moments.
Longtime companion that he was, Leodegrance could see his friend's
distraction. Never had he witnessed Uther show any interest in a
woman that outlasted a night's passion, yet this one clearly held
him in her spell. Why not, he thought, for surely Uther would one
day take a wife. Why not Igraine? She was of high birth and the
daughter one of his father's greatest barons.
"Ah, my afflicted friend, your body still
fights the sea, but I fear your mind is not here. It is, I suspect,
with a certain red-haired lady. Do I err?"
Uther's gaze shifted to his friend, his face
ashen, looking as though even this bit of movement stirred his
insides. "I cannot forget her, Leo.” His voice was wavering, weak.
"When we return, I shall make her mine."
"You are the son of a royal house, my friend,
and you must marry. I have been betrothed since we played at battle
with sticks, you and I. Igraine is the daughter of one of your
father's greatest lords. It is a strong match."
"My father still hopes to see me in a
priest's robes, my friend, and I fear he is as stubborn as I. But
Igraine shall be mine and, if needs be, I will disobey my father to
make it so."
Leodegrance paused, considering the
implications of such an act, but decided that counsels of patience
and caution were best saved for another day. Hundreds of miles, and
a long and dangerous journey lay between Uther and any fateful acts
of rebellion. "Doubtless such will not be needed. I am sure your
father will be pleased to see you married and settled."
"We shall see." Uther spoke then quickly
thrust his head over the side and wretched, his whole body
convulsing. "Gods," he rasped, "what could be left in me to come
out?"
Thus went the journey across the Narrow Sea
and down the Gallic coast, and it was days more before, at long
last, Uther set desperate eyes upon the sandy shores of Aquitania.
The ship made for a long stretch of open beach, and Uther was the
first man ashore. Out of the surf he stumbled and onto the soft
sand, where he collapsed and lay motionless in the sun.
Leodegrance laughed loudly. "Ah, my friend, I
fear you have missed the solid ground under you far too much."
"Leo, it has been days since I strode upon a
surface that does not move. The sea, I fear is for others. My
battles shall be on land, I trust, or I shall surely meet my
doom."
They both laughed, and Leodegrance went to
supervise the landing of their party, allowing Uther to rest. They
had brought with them ten warriors as escort, along with a
considerable supply train - food, tents, gold, gifts for the lords
they would meet, plus horses and mules - and servants to manage it
all.
It took several hours to get everything
unloaded, by which time Uther looked considerably less pale and
sick. He even took one of the wineskins and drank deeply. On ship
it had been a task to get him to take a few sips, but now, suddenly
aware of his raging thirst, he took it and almost drained it.
"You look better, Uther, my friend.”
Leodegrance smiled broadly as he spoke. "And we have plenty of
wine, so drink your fill."
Uther handed over the almost-empty skin. "I
have done so already, for I didn't realize how thirsty I was until
I started to drink."
Leodegrance looked up at the sun, hazy red
and soon to set. "I know you are exhausted from the voyage, but I
think we should march inland before making camp. We may attract
pirates if we camp to close to the coast and, while I run from no
fight, our task is to reach the Emperor, not battle with barbarians
and thieves."
Uther had a fragile smile on his face. "I am
quite ready for anything." He paused, still looking a bit unsteady.
"Or at least ready to ride my horse a few leagues."
They mounted, but rode slowly, for the
servants leading the mules went on foot. They traveled from the
beach and followed a sandy path winding slowly uphill. After an
hour they found themselves along the top of a hillside, and they
paused to look