As I drew near them, Connor grinned at me over Derek's shoulder, then stretched out a hand to grasp the other's arm, silencing him.
"Your pardon, Derek," he said, smiling still. "I have brought a good friend with me, whom I believe you know already."
Arrested in mid-word, Derek of Ravenglass swung around to face me, and I watched as a series of expressions swept rapidly across his face: puzzlement, followed quickly by recognition, surprise and finally a close-guarded look I could not define. I saw suspicion there, and a hint of fear or defiance.
"The Dreamer," he said, frowning.
I nodded, "Merlyn Britannicus."
"Aye, I remember. Cornwall, by way of Camulod. The first time we met, you used another name."
"I did. Ambrose of Lindum."
"That was it. You're Roman."
"No," I shook my head. "No more than half, and that in name alone. I'm British."
"British, what's that?" The scorn in his question made it plain that Derek was far from intimidated by my sudden reappearance.
I shrugged. "The other half of me is Celt, like you. The combination makes me British, since I am neither one nor the other, yet was born here in Britain."
"You're a talker, I recall that from our first meeting, when we were on the road to join Lot's army."
"You were on the road for that purpose. We merely rode along with you."
"Aye, you did, then disappeared." He paused. "Your physician paid me gold to take your wounded through the meeting place that time, to safety beyond Lot's army."
That was true. He had taken the gold, but then had failed to fulfil his end of the bargain in entirety. That no ill had befallen our people had been due only to Lucanus's quick thinking on that occasion. I knew I would have to speak with care here if I were to avoid aggravating the situation by stirring up feelings of guilt on his part.
"What was his name, that physician of yours?"
"Lucanus."
"Aye, Lucanus. Did he survive?"
"He did, with all his men and wagons."
"Ah, he did. Good, that pleases me. I've often wondered about that."
This was not what I had expected. I had been attempting to analyse his tone, listening for signs of truculence or real hostility.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
He looked me straight in the eye, then sniffed, glancing sideways at Connor.
".It was a foul-up, all around." He cleared his throat. "We came to Lot's gathering place without problems, but instead of proceeding clear through, we had to stop when I was summoned to a meeting of commanders. Some fool had seen us coming and passed the word that I had arrived. We left your people on the outskirts of the encampment— couldn't very well take them with us, right into Lot's camp, could I? Anyway, the gathering was enormous, and I rode on in with my men to find the rest of our contingent, most of whom had come down the coast by water, ferried by Lot's galleys.
"As things turned out, Lot wasn't there and never did appear, and one thing led to another and I couldn't get back that night—held in a so-called planning session all night long. A dog-fight was what it was, more than anything else. With Lot away, everyone wanted to be a general, even though most of them couldn't find a latrine if they were standing in it. Later that evening, when I finally realized how things were going to be, I sent some of my people back to find yours and lead them on through, but by the time they reached the spot where we had left them, your people were all gone. No sign of them at all. My own men thought nothing more of it, and I didn't hear of it until the following day. Didn't know what to do then. I asked some questions but found no answers, and I didn't want to be too specific. I heard nothing about any disturbance or fighting or disagreements over wagons, and so I let it go. But I've often wondered what happened to them, how they got away."
I was smiling by this time, feeling much relieved. "Why don't you ask Lucanus how he did it? He's here, on the galley." I nodded towards where Lucanus stood on the foredeck, watching us. When he saw the astonishment on Derek's face, Luke smiled and nodded a greeting.
"Well I'm damned," Derek muttered. "And there's that other one, too, the one who rode with you. The big Scot."
"That is my brother Donuil," Connor said.
"Is it, by all the gods?" Derek turned back to us, his eyes moving from me to Connor and back to me. "Why are you here, Merlyn the Dreamer? What do you want from me?"
"Nothing that may not be within your power to grant or to withhold," I responded, smiling and shrugging my shoulders. "Food and lodgings, for the night at least, for me and mine, and perhaps sanctuary."
"Sanctuary?" He frowned as he repeated the alien sounds. "I don't know that word."
"It means shelter, respite."
"Respite from what? Or from whom?" He glowered now at Connor, his face clouded with suspicion. "There will be no trouble here. You know Liam, Condran's admiral, is here?"
Connor nodded. "Coincidence," he said. "Nothing to do with anything. Liam has never seen or heard of Merlyn, and is no part of his cares. The rules apply, as always."
"Hmm." Apparently mollified, Derek looked back at me. "So? Respite from whom?"
I shrugged. "It is a long story—not long in the telling, but complex. I would be happy to tell it to you."
"Hmmph." He looked away again, towards the galley. "You have women with you, and children. How many?"
"Twelve, counting myself, aboard the galley."
"Aboard the galley ... And elsewhere?"
I indicated the two escort galleys that held their place outside the harbour. "Six more, split between the other vessels."
"Why do they stand off like that, Mac Athol? Afeared of the Sons of Condran?"
Connor smiled and shrugged his great shoulders. "Not since they learned to stand on two legs. Simple courtesy, my friend. We had no knowledge of the enemy's presence until we arrived, but it makes no difference here. They merely wait to be invited to enter. Three galleys at one time might have seemed too much like an invasion."
Aye, well, signal them in They are yours, and therefore welcome. Feargus, is it?"
"Aye, and Logan."
Derek spoke again to me. "The hospitality, for a night at least, presents no difficulty. It would have been extended anyway. Further, I'll not commit. But your story should be interesting." He paused. "Tell me, do you still dream?"
"From time to time," I answered, smiling. "I dreamed of you less than four weeks ago. That is why we are here."
He sighed deeply. "I was afraid you would say something like that."
"I saw you wearing Uther's armour," I said. "Do you still have it?"
"I do." His voice was level.
"When did you last wear it?"
"Not since I returned home, after we last met. I had my belly filled with war, and I thank the gods I've not had to take a sword in my hand since then. Why do you ask?"
"Is it in good condition?"
"Aye, perfect. I could strap it on again today if the need arose. Is that likely?"
My smile widened to a grin and I shook my head. "No, but I might like to buy it back from you some day, were you willing to sell it."
He gazed at me for some time, sucking on the inside of one cheek, before he responded. When he did, his voice was thoughtful. "Someday, you say? And how far off might that day be? I warn you, it could make a difference to my decision and to my price." He glanced back towards the galley and then nodded to me. "Bring your people ashore and come you with me. One of my men will conduct them to a place where they can rest and clean themselves. We have a Roman bathhouse here, if they would like to use it."