'They won't be burned!"
"How so?" Connor's tone became scornful. "They are made of wood, dry and well seasoned. Have you never seen what burning, pitch-wrapped arrows, shot from afar, can do to a floating hulk? No, Derek, that's too much to ask. I'll not desert my ships. Mine is a naval force, it functions well only at sea."
"We'll hide them! We have all day tomorrow to conceal them, and I know a perfect place, an inlet, completely hidden from the sea and sheltered from the winds, with a shelving beach and a high tide. Your galleys will lie safe there for as long as must be and none will know they're there."
"Hmm ... " Connor thought for a long moment, considering that, then sucked a tiny breath between his teeth. It was a gesture he shared with his father, Athol, one that both men used when they were thinking deeply. "How close is this place? Can I go there tomorrow, to see it for myself? I take no man's word at face value where my galleys are concerned."
"Aye, you can go and look. It is close by. Less than two miles along the coast to the south, but cunningly disguised and invisible from offshore. I know, for I have tried to see it for myself, and I would never have found it had I not known where to look."
Connor was still unsure. "That's as may be, Derek, but I mislike the thought of simply going off and leaving my craft lying there untended. It takes long years to build a galley, but only moments to burn one." He stopped, evidently having come to a decision. "If I agree, how would my men get back from there to here?"
"We'll ferry them, in our fishing boats."
Connor turned to me. "Merlyn, what do you think?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "One thought came to me immediately. Suppose we drive these Ersemen off, convinced they cannot take this place from the sea. What might they do then? Sail straight for home? The probability is that they would, knowing their leader Liam to be dead. But would they know that?" Both men were staring at me, their faces blank. 'Think of it! Liam is dead. You know that and .so does everyone here. But you are discussing the removal of Liam's galleys, the only sign his fleet will have that he is here. By removing them, you are also removing the proof of his presence, and of his failure. The men in his fleet, believing him—as he himself believed—to be immortal, will merely guess, when they arrive to find his galleys absent, that he has changed his plans for some reason and postponed his attack. They're bound to have at least one able captain among them, someone clever enough to see that, since his plans involve treachery, the postponement of them must entail continued amity between themselves and Ravenglass. They'll have no reason to approach us at all, and every reason not to. So they will sail off again to look for him elsewhere, believing him to be close by, and they'll search the coastline to the north and south carefully, seeking a hiding place such as you describe. They'll find your galleys."
"Aye, they will." Connor was gazing at me narrow- eyed. "You have a subtle way of thinking, Yellow Head. I'm glad you're not my enemy. I can't argue with your logic, so that means Liam's galleys must stay here and take their chances of being destroyed or recaptured. They are the bait to draw the animals in close. Hmm ... " He scratched his chin. "I'm glad I asked, but that wasn't the reason for my asking what you think. You have your own responsibilities, and my sworn duty to my father commits me to your needs before all else. That is why we're here, when all is said and done." He raised his hand now from his chin to scratch his temple gently with a middle fingertip, winking at me again from behind its shelter. "I think this whole affair of Liam's fleet too dangerous and certainly not your concern. What say you?"
"Wait!" Both of us turned to Derek, who was red-faced and looking ill at ease. "Before you respond, Merlyn, hear what I have to say."
I looked back at Connor, raising my eyebrow, and then nodded, gesturing to Derek to continue. He cleared his throat, his thoughts evidently racing with each other as he sought the words to sway me.
"I was at pains to explain my reasons for refusing your request today, and I believed you understood them, at the time."
"I did."
"Aye, well they have all changed, thanks to this treachery of Condranson." I waited. He flexed his shoulders, glancing again at Connor. "You spoke of duty to your father and its binding you to Merlyn, here. I was unaware of that. How is Athol Mac Iain beholden to Camulod?"
Connor looked blank, and I answered for him. "He is not. He has ... an interest in the welfare of the boy who is in my care."
"What kind of interest?" Derek's sudden frown was speculative, his eyes glinting with curiosity.
"An abiding one, let us say."
"Abiding ... You mean ongoing? Active?"
"Most assuredly." Connor's voice was dry now, almost ironic. "I think it might be better if you spoke your mind, rather than attempting to be circumspect. What is it that you want to know?"
Derek braced his shoulders, facing Connor squarely. "I want to know if Athol extends real protection to the boy, or merely friendly interest. There's no point in my denying it, this thing with the Sons of Condran spells disaster for my people and my town. This was unknown to me when you arrived, and it changes everything. I need an ally now, a strong one, with a fleet of galleys. If I offer sanctuary to Merlyn and the boy, as I was asked to do, then may I rely on you and yours to extend protection to my folk as part of the agreement? That is what I need to know."
"That's plain enough. You mean afterwards, in time to come. Not merely when Liam's fleet arrives the day after tomorrow. You still need help with that."
"Yes." ·
"Hmm." Connor snatched a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips. "I have the feeling, Ravenglass, that you would make me earn those two galleys."
Derek almost smiled. "They're Condran's best. His admiral's own ships. And they're undamaged."
"No thanks to you." Connor looked at me. "There was a holding crew aboard each one. They tried to fire them when they saw us coming. Almost succeeded, too." He turned back to Derek. "The bargain—especially this latest element you've added, of ongoing help—still weighs too heavily in your favour, my friend. Where will you lodge Merlyn and his people now if I accede? Because if all things are changed in your condition, so, too, are the requirements for their safety."
"I know that." Derek turned to me. "How many people are there in your group? In total."
"Eighteen."
He looked at me for a long time, nodding slowly. "I have the perfect place, I think."
When it became clear that he would say no more without prompting, Connor supplied it. "Another perfect place? Where? You have a suitable house?"
"No, I have a suitable fort." He rose to throw some fuel on the fire, leaving us to wonder. When he was satisfied that the fire would burn well, Derek returned to his chair.
"The road out of our town is the Tenth Iter. Does that mean anything to you?" Both of us shook our heads, and he grinned at me. "Well, you once told me you knew your Britain—at least the Roman part of it—but now I can tell you something you didn't know. The Tenth Iter is the only road in all this region that penetrates the heartland from the coast. Very important road, it was, to the Romans, built during the period after they abandoned the other wall they built, up in Caledonia."
"The Antonine Wall."
"Aye, that's the one. Anyway, they built this road, the Tenth Iter, to transport supplies from Ravenglass, here, which they called Glannaventa, traversing the passes through the Fells to the garrison at Galava, which means "by the side of the vigorous stream." We call the stream the Amble. Anyway, the road's more than thirty Roman miles long, and it had three forts, the two at each end and another they called Mediobogdum—don't ask me what that means—in the middle, on a plateau at the top of the highest pass through the Fells."