The Dragon's Banner Read Online Free

to my great
amusement, for he is more akin to you than to any of your brothers.
Such it is that ofttimes like finds itself at odds with like, and
more so when both are strong of will and spirit." Merlin saw the
disbelief on Uther's face, but before the boy could respond, he
spoke further. "Uther, as you trust in my word, believe me in this,
for I speak the truth. Put your heart at rest, for we all have many
trials ahead of us, and I would not have you troubled over a grief
that exists only in your mind."
    Uther was silent, lost in his own thoughts
about his father, himself, and their many arguments. He got up from
his chair and stood in front of the hearth, his eyes following the
flickering fire. Above the mantle was hung a finely crafted sword,
polished but well-worn, with a leather grip, worn smooth from long
use.
    Uther's fingers traced the raised lettering
on the hilt of his grandfather's sword. "Legio XX," he read softly
to himself from the finely crafted etchings. The old man had died
long before Uther was born, but he had achieved greatness, and made
the Pendragon name one known throughout Britannia. He had risen to
become an emperor of Rome, only to be slain by his enemies through
some unrecorded treachery. Uther never tired of listening to the
stories of his famous grandsire, still remembered in these lands as
Constantine II, King of the Britons.
    Merlin let the boy think for a few moments
before continuing. "Your grandsire was a great man, Uther, and
though it was his fate never to see his newborn son, I think he
would have been proud of your father. Constantine has spent his
life in the shadow of a sire who wore the purple, a man he never
knew. Never has he held his achievements to be enough. But so it
often goes with father and son. I would offer you some counsel if
you will have it."
    Uther had been running his fingers down the
flat of the blade as he listened to Merlin, and now he turned to
face his friend. "Of course, Merlin. Your words I always take to
heart."
    "Uther, ever have you and I been friends, for
always I have seen in you much strength and virtue. You were born,
I fear, with the heart of a king, more suited to an elder son than
the younger. Yet, you are what you are, and 'tis likely your eldest
brother shall be king, and you shall be left to serve your family
in whatever ways he deems best.
    "Young though you are, I have never seen your
equal in battle, yet to be a great warrior is not enough for a
prince. For it is easy to fight any battle, even a hopeless one,
and die with honor, yet far more difficult to forego conflict, or
to treat with enemies and seek to make them allies. I would have
you learn this and to understand more of such things, for though I
know not where your future will lead, I feel there will be
greatness for you - and victory, strife, heartbreak. Be ready for
all that comes, and know that not every foe will battle you openly
on the field honorably, with armor and sword."
    Uther was listening intently, for if there
was anyone whose counsel the brash young prince valued, it was
Merlin. Silently he returned to his chair and sat, the ancient
oaken seat creaking as his great bulk settled into it.
    Merlin leaned toward his young friend and
spoke quietly but firmly. "I would pray thee to obey your father
and do whatever he may bid you do, for now is not the time for a
test of wills between you. Your road forward, I foresee, shall lead
places you cannot now imagine and bring you great joys and sadness,
glorious victory and terrible loss. But now, your father needs you,
no less than any of your brothers, for his strength fails and he
now faces a great struggle."
    "So it is to be war then?” Uther spoke it as
a question, but he did not wait for an answer. “And we shall be
sorely pressed. Is this not truth?"
    "It is.” Merlin looked at Uther with
admiration and approval. “More than you now know, for victory shall
hinge as much on diplomacy and the search for allies as on courage
in the