Arthur

TWO

A Saecsen camp is not a pleasant sight. They are barbarians, after all.

But, after thirteen days in the saddle, I would have thought even a hole in the ground a palace if it kept the rain off my head at night. Thirteen days of rain! Why, it is enough to make misery seem good company. We were well past misery.

I think the Saecsens were unhappy, too, and looking for a diversion. Or perhaps the rain had softened them. However it was, we found them in a most rare temper: docile.

That is to say, they did not kill us upon first sight.

We had left Caer Melyn three days after Arthur's return, and had slowly made our way east to the Ouse River on the old Iceni border where we camped. We knew that Aelle, who was battlechief of the Saecsen hordes there, would already have detected our movements. We wanted him to know that we were not trying to attack outright. So we settled down in the mud and waited.

And, yes, two days later we awakened to the horns and drums of a Saecsen war host across the river. Arthur rose and ordered three horses to be saddled: his, mine and Cai's. Myrddin protested that he should go along, but the Duke would not hear it. He said, 'If anything happens to me, at least the Soul of Britain will still be alive.'

To Cai and me he said, 'Leave your weapons. If all goes well you will not need them.'

'And if it fails?'I asked.

'They will be no help.'

Reluctantly, we obeyed – although this was going several paces too far, even for Cai's loyalty.

'Help or no, I would ride easier with my sword to hand,' he grumbled, as we mounted our horses and rode out of camp.

'Things might be worse,' I told him. 'At least it is not raining. I would hate being killed in the rain.'

The Ouse is deep-set and good fording-places few. We had camped near enough to one of the best – the site of numerous battles in the past – and made our way to it now, each of us holding green willow branches in our hands. The Saecsen used this sign themselves: they recognized it when it suited them. I prayed it might do so now.

At our approach, the war host raised their ear-splitting shriek. This went on for a good while, but when they saw it was just three men with willow branches, they quieted and waited to see what we would do.

Arthur rode to the centre of the river ford and halted, Cai and I on either side. 'Now,' he said, 'we will see what sort of men they are.'

I could have told him what sort of men they were!

'Aelle!' called Arthur. 'Come, Aelle! I would speak to you!'

I surveyed the host arrayed against us – there were a thousand if there were ten, and none of them with glad welcome on their lips. They remained silent, and in a moment a single warrior stepped away from a throng gathered round one of their hideous skull-and-horsetail standards. He was a huge brute, with hair the colour of new thatch hanging in two long braids, and he walked with such arrogance, such insolence in his gait, I knew him to be Aelle in the flesh.

He came down to the water's edge, his great war axe in his hand. 'I am Aelle,' he said, not bothering to conceal his conceit. 'What do you want?'

Oh, yes, he spoke our tongue. This is not as surprising as you might think, for many of the Saecsen had lived longer on our shores than ever they stayed on their own. Britain was the only home they knew.

'Peace,' replied Arthur, just like that.

I nearly fell off my horse. It is foolish enough to try making a treaty with the Saecsen, but you must be cunning about it. They respect nothing but the sharp edge of a sword and the strength behind it. Everything else is weakness to them, and is despised. We were lost.

'Arthur! Think what you are doing!' I whispered harshly. 'I know what I am doing!' he replied. Aelle stood at the river's edge blinking. Then it started to rain.

The Saecsen battlechief glared at Arthur with one eye, and at the rain clouds with the other, and decided that neither was going to go away very soon. Under the circumstances, he could at least escape the one by talking to the other. 'Come,' he called across the water, 'I will talk to you.' With that, Arthur lifted his reins and his horse moved forward. Cai and I followed, and together we three crossed over into Saecsen-held land.

Upon reaching the far shore we were immediately surrounded by Aelle's house carles – twenty enormous hulking savages, chosen for their size and courage to protect their leader to the death. I could read nothing but loathing in their cold blue eyes.

'Who are you – WealasT sneered Aelle. He had been about to say something rude, and I swear he would have got a boot in the face for his insolence. But he showed at least that much sense.

'I am Arthur, War Leader of Britain. I have come to offer peace to you and your people.'

Aelle considered this as he scanned our camp across the river. We were less than two hundred, for aside from Meurig none of the British kings deigned to ride with us. Aelle did not fail to grasp this fact, and it did not argue well for us.

'Are you so powerful?' It was a strange question. And it came to me that Aelle was genuinely confused. He did not know what to make of Arthur.

I began to see the matter through his eyes. Here was a British lord who rode to meet a host many times larger with only a small force, unarmed, and offering peace – it was madness, surely. Unless the lord before him was a very, very powerful man indeed – a man so powerful that he had no need of a larger force, no need of the support of the other British lords. But who possessed such might?

'I am as you see me,' replied Arthur. This confused the Saecsen even more. What did that mean?

The rain fell, running down our faces in rivulets. The barbarians seemed not to notice it.

'Come, let us go where it is dry and we can talk.'

Aelle gazed at Arthur for a long moment, making up his mind. Then, with a sharp nod, he turned to his men and barked a harsh command in their repulsive tongue. The carles turned as one and hastened away. In a moment, the whole war host began moving back, retreating from the river.

'We will go to my camp,' Aelle said, and began leading the way.

The Saecsen camp lay but a short distance away – just a valley and a hill east of the Ouse. We passed through the charred ruins of a small settlement on the way, and that was hard. Cai did not look at the fire-blackened remains, nor did Arthur. But I saw his hands tighten on the reins.

As I say, a Saecsen camp is a wretched place. They despoil everything they touch – including the earth where they squat. A few crude skin tents and huts made of grass and branches formed a loose circle, in the centre of which burned a fire. The hacked carcasses of butchered cattle and sheep lay on the ground near the fire ring, among the scattered bones of others. The place stank of excrement and refuse.

The foremost dwelling belonged to Aelle, and he entered it. We dismounted outside, and followed him in. It was a dark, damp, filthy, fetid hole, but it kept the rain off. We sat on the bare earth – Aelle sat on an ox-hide – and waited while a slave fixed torches to the tent poles on either side of Aelle. The slave, I noticed, was Gaulish, but I did not doubt there were Britons among the slaves in Aelle's camp.

'What have you to say to me?' asked Aelle.

This is how it began. The Saecsen leader did not deem it necessary to include any advisers in the proceedings. Except for their omen readers, by which they set great store, Saecsen rulers rarely consulted their minions.

'I have this to say to you, Aelle,' said Arthur, speaking with an easy authority. 'These lands you now hold do not belong to you. They are British lands. You have killed our people and burned our settlements to get them.'

Aelle frowned defiantly at this, and opened his mouth to speak. But Arthur held up a hand and continued.

'I could demand your Itfe and the lives of all your people in repayment for the wrong you have done us. I could raise the entire war host of Britain and attack you, and we would win. You would be killed.'

Aelle's frown deepened to a scowl. 'Others have tried. I am not so easy to kill, I think. Maybe I will kill you.'

'Perhaps. Perhaps we would both be killed, and all our warriors with us. And then what? Other lords and battlechiefs would rise up against you. The war would continue until there was no one left to fight it.' 'We are ready to fight,' muttered Aelle stubbornly. 'But we do not have to fight,' Arthur said. 'There can be peace between us, and between our people. The bloodshed can end now, and you can keep the land you have taken from us.'

'How can this be?' asked the Saecsen warily. 'I will grant it,' replied Arthur. 'I will give the land to you in return for your promise.' 'What is this promise?'

'Your word, your vow never to make war against my people again. That is first,' said Arthur, making a stroke with his finger in the dirt before him. 'Then you must agree to stay on this side of the Ouse water.' He drew another mark, and Aelle watched him. 'And then?'

Arthur made a third mark, saying, 'And then you must give back those of my people you have taken as slaves.'

Aelle stared suspiciously at the three marks in the din – as if they were a ruse by which Arthur meant to trick him somehow. 'What if I do not agree?' he said at last. 'Then you will be dead before Beltane.' The Saecsen bristled at this. 'I am not afraid.' 'I am the War Leader of Britain,' Arthur reminded him, 'and I have conquered all who rose against me. I will see this land at peace, Aelle. I offer peace freely from my hand today… tomorrow I will win it with my sword.'

This was said with such certainty that Aelle accepted it without question. He turned his face and gazed out at the rain for a moment, then rose and went out.

'We will have our answer soon,' Arthur said. Cai and I looked uncertainly at one another, neither one knowing what to say. The rain pattered down outside, filling the footprints in the mud with water. Our horses stood sodden and forlorn, heads down, manes streaming water.

'Patience, Brother,' Arthur said. I turned and found him looking at me. 'Have faith. It is God's work we are doing here; he will not see us fail.'

I nodded, tried to smile, and gave up with a shrug.

'I wonder if it will rain all day?' muttered Cai.

'Why should this day be any different from the others?" I said.

'Take heart,' Arthur told us, 'the rain aids our purpose most excellently. No man likes to fight in the rain, least of all a Saecsen.'

'That is true,' allowed Cai doubtfully.

We sat for some time in the tent, and I began to believe that Aelle had forgotten about us. But just as I was about to get up and stretch my legs, there came a commotion from outside the tent. Someone shouted and a crowd gathered. The shout was answered by a low, spitting threat in the barbarian tongue. The clash of steel rang sharp and quick.

I made to rise, but Arthur pulled me back down. 'Stay. It is not for us to intrude.'

No, but we craned our necks and peered out through the tent slit. I saw nothing but the backs of the throng gathered round the fire ring. But from the grunts of the combatants and the shattering chime of steel on steel, it was clear to us that a fight was in progress.

It ended as quickly as it began. And, with much murmuring and muttering – although of approval or disdain, I could not tell – the throng dispersed.

A moment later Aelle entered the tent once more. He was wet and muddy, and breathing hard. Blood trickled from a vicious-looking scrape on his chest, but he smiled as he settled himself once more on his ox-hide. He gazed at Arthur, and the faintest trace of emotion flickered across his broad features. What it was, I could not tell. Pride? Remorse? Gratitude?

'It will be as you say,' Aelle said at last.

'You will not regret this, Aelle,' said Arthur. 'Hold faith with me and I will see that your people suffer no wrong.'

Just then the tent flap opened and a Saecsen entered with a round shield in his hands. Balanced on the shield were two long horn cups of the kind the barbarians prize. The shield was placed between Arthur and Aelle, and the servant left – only to return a moment later with a haunch of roast meat which he placed beside the cups.

Aelle lifted a cup and handed it to Arthur. 'Was Hael!' he said. And, taking up his own cup, he dashed down its contents in a single gulp. Arthur drank and then handed the cup to me. I sipped the sour brew and passed the cup to Cai, who forced down the rest.

Aelle watched this, and grunted. Then he took up his knife and attacked the haunch with vigour, ripping off a great chunk of meat which he gave to Arthur. He carved a second hunk for himself and began to eat, tearing at the meat with his teeth.

Arthur ate a few bites and passed the meat to me. I did as Arthur had done and then passed the meat to Cai.

As before, Aelle watched us closely and grunted his approval when we had finished. This was, I understood, some son of ritual. And, now that it was completed, Aelle seemed to soften towards us. He motioned to the cups on the shield, and the servant gathered them and left the tent.

'We have snared meat and drink together,' Aelle said. 'I will speak the oath you ask.'

Arthur shook his head. 'I ask no oath of you – only say me this: that you will hold to the peace we have spoken between us.'

'I will hold to it,' replied Aelle, 'and all my people who are with me.'

'Good,' said Arthur with a smile. The peace is begun. Let him be damned who breaks it.'

The Saecsen battlechief appeared puzzled at this. He shook his head slowly. 'What gage will you have?'

'I ask no gage or pledge. But I give you my trust that you will do all to keep the peace we have made this day.'

Aelle considered this for a moment, then shook his head. He rose and beckoned us to follow. We stepped outside and saw a young woman standing in the rain, a sodden pelt wrapped around her slender shoulders. This, we were given to know, was the daughter of Aelle's sister; his nearest kin, and, by Saecsen reckoning, the person he was most beholden to for care and protection.

'She is Behrta,' said Aelle, summoning the maid to him. 'I give her to you. If I break the peace I have made this day, you will kill her."

Arthur shook his head slowly. 'By this I know that you value your pledge. There is no need to give me a hostage.'

But the Saecsen leader remained adamant. 'It is not for me, Wealas; it is for my people.' He indicated the host looking on expectantly. TAey must know the value I have placed on this peace.'

I understood then what he was saying. The maid was of noble Saecsen blood; she would likely be a queen among her kind one day. By giving her to Arthur, the canny chief was doing what he could to seal the pledge he had made to Arthur.

Arthur turned to Cai, 'Bring her with us. Put her on my horse.' Cai stepped forward and took the maid by the arm, but gently, and led her to Arthur's mount.

'Will you come with me to Octa?' said Arthur, turning back to Aelle. 'I seek peace with him as well, under the same terms as I have granted you.'

Aelle gave his assent. 'I will come to you tomorrow.'

We climbed onto our horses and turned back upon the path to the river. As we passed from the camp, I saw the naked body of the man Aelle had killed in the short dispute outside the tent. The arm-ring on his right arm marked him for a chieftain. Blood still oozed from the ragged gape in his chest.

Myrddin stood on the far side of the river, watching for our return. When he saw us crest the hill, he dashed forward into the water and ran to meet us as we came to the ford.

Arthur threw himself from the saddle with a whoop and caught Myrddin up in a great hug.

'I have prayed for you every moment until now,' Myrddin told him. Glancing at the maid, he said, 'I need not ask how it went with you – I can see you did well.'

'She was Aelle's idea,' Arthur said. 'I did not want a hostage, but he would have it no other way. He said it was for his people to know the value of the peace.'

Myrddin pursed his lips. 'Very shrewd. Yes, I see. And if anything happens to her in your care, he will have cause to break faith with you. His sword cuts both ways.'

They turned and made to cross the ford. Half-way across, they began to laugh, and the echoes of their laughter set the valley ringing. Oh, they had planned this very carefully, the two of them.

I watched Arthur and Myrddin, their arms round each other's shoulders, splashing their way across the river and I felt the same giddy relief wash over me. I laughed out loud. Cai stared at me and then he began laughing, too!

We had done it! We had walked into the lion's den and returned with his beard in our hands. Had anything like this ever happened before?

More, could it happen again?