Arthur

FOURTEEN

There has been a fortress at Trath Gwryd from ancient times. Like Caer Alclyd on the west coast and Caer Edyn on the east, it is built atop an enormous rock above a river, and stands between them in the centre of the invasion route. And like Caer Alclyd the Picti had seized the old rock-top fortress, intending to defend it against us.

Upon reaching the sands of Gwryd, below the rock, we camped and laid siege to the rock. Almost at once Arthur's scouts began returning with further reports about the enemy siege at Caer Edyn: Ectorius still held the fortress, and seemed in no immediate danger; the stronghold remained solid and secure.

King Custennin of Celyddon arrived with more disturbing news: others were coming into the war. Along with the Angli there were Jutes, Mercians and Frisians from across the northern sea; Scoti and Attacoti from Ierne; and Cruithne joining with the blue-painted Picti. In short, all the old enemies of Roman Britain. The new Bretwalda, whoever, he was, had stirred the pot well.

God's mercy, there were no Saecsens. Somehow the peace in the south held true, or the fight would have been finished before it began.

Anxious to move on to the defence of Ector at Caer Edyn as soon as possible, Arthur dealt with the rock fort quickly, using the same night raid tactic with which we had reconquered Caer Alclyd. The battle was short and sharp, and we prevailed. The fortress duly secured, we turned east to the rescue of Ectorius.

We passed through several small holdings and settlements along the way. The barbarians had been there before us and had left behind the black mark of their passing – a smouldering scar of destruction, bleak and terrible, a bleeding wound upon the land. Crops burned, cattle driven, goods plundered and carried off, and all else ruined.

Bitter smoke and ashes filled our mouths; tears filled our eyes. For in each of the holdings the bodies of men, women and infants lay strewn among the debris. Not content to fire the buildings and slaughter the people, at each place the barbarians left a grisly reminder of their cruelty and hate: a disembowelled corpse lying in the centre of the road, stomach carved open and lungs spread out upon the chest, liver pulled out and placed between the lungs, the heart severed and laid on top, the genitals cut off and stuffed in the mouth.

It was a sight to sicken, to dishearten, to taunt. Not a man among us who saw it failed to imagine himself or his sword brother or kinsman lying dead there – dismembered and dishonoured. Fear and humiliation were kindled by the ghastly spectacle and spread like a noxious stench through our ranks.

But, in each place where this atrocity was practised, Arthur acted forthrightly. He ordered the body to be wrapped in a clean cloak and decently buried, with prayers spoken over the body.

This helped ease our dismay, but did not banish it. Daunted and sick with dread we drew near Caer Edyn. Custennin had warned us, and we were ready. Yet the first sight of the besieging host encamped upon low hills below the caer stole the light from our eyes and the warmth from our hearts.

They were not lying when they told you the whole barbarian realm had come to Caer Edyn,' Cai said. 'How did so many escape our ships?'

Arthur's face hardened like flint. His eyes turned the colour of Yr Widdfa in storm. 'Breathe the air, my friends,' he said. We drew a deep breath of the fresh, salt-tinged breeze. 'It tastes of triumph, does it not?'

Seeing the black smoke curling into the blue-white sky and the loathsome masses swarming about the roots of Ector's strong fortress brought the sour gall to my lips. 'It tastes of death, Artos,' I replied.

'Death or triumph, I will embrace one or the other before this day is done.'

At this moment the barbarian host sent up a deafening screech. 'This sound, so hateful to our ears, will no more be heard in Britain,' observed Myrddin, sitting his horse, hands folded calmly before him. His golden eyes, as ever, were bound in a length of white linen. 'I have seen the face of the Bretwalda: it is a Briton's face and its features are well known to us all.'

This the Emrys spoke as if dropping a remark about barley bannocks. 'Is that all? A name! Tell us who it is, Wise One,' I said.

'The name you know already. I will not defile my tongue to utter it.'

'Wise Emrys,' pleaded Cai, 'I would hear spoken the name of the dog who has raised this outrage against my kinsmen.'

It was no use asking, Myrddin would say no more.

Arthur began at once to order the attack. Down on the narrow plain the enemy was already forming the battle line. I could see that they had chosen the field well. Even if they did not possess the fortress, the rock wall at their backs gave them good protection, and the deep-riven dells would make it difficult for our horses.

Nevertheless, the ala moved into position, forming three divisions of four ranks each. I led one division, Cai another, and Bors the third – each of us with two kings under our command. Arthur, with Llenlleawg beside him, would lead the warriors on foot – we all knew that once the horses had served their purpose the battle would be waged on foot.

At Rhys' signal we galloped forth, spears levelled, shields dressed. The thunder of hooves drummed in our brains and blood. I settled into the saddle, gliding with the rhythmic rock and sway of the fearless animal beneath me. My hand, my arm, my eye – all of my being became the sharp spearhead glinting at the end of the ashwood haft, slicing air before me.

Closing with merciless speed, the first rank went down before me, mouths agape, eyes wide in wonder and terror. As in all the other battles, I fought through the knotted confusion of bodies, the clash keen and loud in my ears, the blood mist in my eyes. I slew the enemy before me, taking them on the point of my spear. And when that broke, I used my sword.

I hewed mightily. I laboured like the fanner when the thunder and lightning threatens his ripe field. But no planter ever reaped such grim harvest, or gathered a loathlier crop.

We were lions! We were charging boars in battle! Our first attack, fierce and furious, broke the barbarian line in four places. It sagged inward as if to draw us in and crush us against Edyn's Rock – and well they might have, for there were more than enough of them! – but Arthur, swift and sure, drove into them from behind.

The barbarian resistance collapsed in chaos and they began to scatter. I steered my division back towards Arthur's position, carrying all before me. And then I saw it, springing up directly in my path – the Bretwalda's skull-and-bones standard. And beneath it, surrounded by his house carles, the Bretwalda himself. And, God help him, I recognized the face beneath the iron helm: Cerdic ap Morcant.

It was Cerdic!

Bile surged up into my gullet and into my mouth. Rage, hot and black, dimmed my sight. I lashed my mount forward, hoping to attack him before he saw me. But the craven's carles closed around him and bore him away before ever I could reach him. Indeed, the barbarians were scattering, fleeing south and west. Confusion must have gripped them, for they were running away from the coast where lay their ships!

I made directly for Arthur. 'I have seen him, Bear,' I shouted. 'I have seen the Bretwalda.'

His head whipped towards me. 'Who is it?'

'Cerdic ap Morcant,' I told him. 'I saw him with the Angli.'

Arthur bristled. 'That coward will curse the day of his birth,' he muttered. Then said, 'It is well. If he will not hold with me in life, let him keep faith with me in death. Either way, I will own his fealty!'

'Sound the pursuit! We can catch him,' I cried, preparing for the chase.

To my surprise, Arthur merely shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'I will not ride into ambush. Reform the a/a and care for the wounded, then gather the chieftains and come to me at the caer. I will hold council in Ector's hall.' He rode off, leaving me to sputter after him.

A moment later, Rhys raised the signal to reform, and the pursuit broke off; riders began returning to the field. Once the wounded were under care – mercifully, there were few of them; the battle had been brief – I assembled the lords and we rode up to the caer. The gates were open and Ector was standing in the yard, talking to Arthur.

At our approach they finished and Ector hurried into the hall. The Duke turned suddenly and spoke a word to Llenlleawg, who ran to his horse, leapt into the saddle and raced away.

I dismounted and threw my reins to one of Ector's men. 'What is it?' I asked, hurrying to Arthur's side.

'There are Saecsens here.'

'Saecsens!'

'So Ector believes. He will tell us more.' He glanced towards the gate where the first of the lords was arriving. 'Bring them in. We will hold council in the hall.'

Once settled inside, we clutched our cups and listened to Ector speak the words most dreadful to our ears. 'Before the siege, word came to me that Saecsen warships had been seen on the water below Traprain Law. I took ten ships and we made for the coast there, but we found no sign of them.'

'Your report was accurate?' asked Owain.

'There was no doubt.'

'Yet we saw no Saecsens in battle today. They must have turned back. Your ships scared them away,' suggested Ceredig.

'We saw no Saecsens, because we were not meant to see them,' declared Myrddin Emrys. 'There was no battle today.'

'No battle?' demanded Maelgwn. 'It seemed a battle to me!' Everyone laughed. 'What did we fight against then?'

'You fought against a shadow,' replied Myrddin.

The Emrys' strange words worked in me and in that instant I saw the subtle shape of the trap that had been set for us. Oh, Cerdic had bethought himself well. Long had he nourished himself with cunning, and groomed himself with treachery. I saw it in an instant: the siege of Caer Edyn, like Trath Gwryd and Caer Alclyd, was meant only to distract us and wear us down while he moved us into position. The real battle he had saved to the last.

Shrewd Cerdic, deft in deceit. He who would not rule under Arthur, turned traitor against him and against his own people. Devil take him, he was always a bad seed.

'A shadow?' The lords of Britain stared in disbelief, then laughed scornfully.

'Listen to the Soul of Wisdom,' commanded Arthur. 'Has it not occurred to you that we have succeeded too easily? These first fights were but annoyances – vexations to divert us from the true battle. Had we given chase today, we would now be food for ravens and wolves.'

The lords muttered loudly at this: accusations of weakness and indecision. Some complained aloud that Arthur imagined too much. If there were Saecsens, they said, why did they not show themselves? Why did we turn aside when we had the battle won?

Let* them mutter and accuse as they might, the Bear of Britain would not be moved. He crossed his arms over his chest and faced them down, each and every one. When order was restored, he turned to me. 'Bedwyr, tell them who is Bretwalda to the barbarians. Tell them who you saw beneath the skull-and-bones today.'

'I saw Cerdic ap Morcant,' I said loudly.

Some, like Idris and Maglos who had been friend to Cerdic and had ridden with him before joining Arthur, refused to believe. 'Impossible! You are surely mistaken.'

'I know who I saw. It is a face I have seen more than once across the field of battle.'

'He would not slaughter his own people,' maintained Idris, albeit weakly.

'He fought against us in the beginning! Or have you forgotten,' I spat. Anger splashed up hot within me. 'Since he could not prevail that way, he has joined the enemy. I do not find that so difficult to believe.'

That gave them something to chew on. Mighty God, they can be a thick-headed lot! But they cavilled to nothing but their own dishonour, for it showed how little they esteemed Arthur. Still! Even after all he had done.

Bors, Gwalchavad and Cador, who had been tending to the Cymbrogi, joined us now. Custennin took advantage of the momentary interruption to move the council along. 'Whether it is Cerdic,' he proclaimed, 'or whether it is someone else, does not matter for the moment. If there are Saecsens waiting in ambush, then we must decide quickly what to do. Arthur is our War Leader, we must listen to him.' Turning to Arthur, he said, 'Tell us, Duke Arthur, what would you have us do?'

Arthur rose to stand over us. 'We will send scouts to discover where the enemy have gone. Once we know th – '

'We know where they have gone!' said Owain. 'Every moment we delay strengthens them.'

Arthur struck the board with the flat of his hand. The slap rattled the cups the length of the board. 'Silence!'

The lords fell silent at last. Arthur glared at each one and continued, 'I will not ride into battle until I know the field, how it lies, and who is arrayed against us. With your own ears you have heard that there is some deception at work here. Since we know not what it is, I mean to be wary.' He straightened and folded his arms across his chest. 'I thank you for your trust, my lords, and I will summon you when I am ready.'

This is no way to enter a battle. Bitterness and strife in command can leech the strength of an army more quickly than fear. There was little we could do about that now. It was already too late.

The scouts were sent out and returned just before nightfall with word of the enemy's position. And that word was not good to hear. Arthur assembled the lords and the scouts told what they had seen: the barbarian host had passed west along the Fiorthe to the place where Guaul met the river mouth, then they had turned away from the coast into the wooded hills to the south.

'This does not appear to be a heedless retreat,' observed Arthur, when the scouts had spoken. The lords were forced to agree that the enemy had behaved with unusual forethought. 'Did you see where they stopped?'

'They stopped,' reported the foremost scout, 'in a region of lakes. I saw two hills with ancient forts on them. It appeared that they were met by some already waiting there.'

'Did you see who was waiting?'

'They seemed to be Saecsens, Duke Arthur.'

The trap! Yes! Arthur's cool instinct had saved us from a fatal mistake. I would have ridden into it.

'How many?' asked Arthur.

The scout hesitated. 'I cannot say, lord.'

'More than ten thousand?'

'Yes, lord, more than ten thousand.'

'More than twenty?'

Again the scout paused. I could well understand his reluctance. 'Yes, Lord Arthur, more than twenty thousand. I think it was Octa and Colgrim.'

Arthur dismissed the scout, and turned to the lords. "They were met by Saecsens, twenty thousand strong, at least. Probably more.'

'I know the place,' said Ector. 'There are two hills – rather one hill with two peaks, and the ruins of an old fortress. The hill is called Baedun.'

'Twenty thousand!' scoffed Maelgwn. 'We would have heard long before now if that many barbarians were loose in the land.'

'Not if our eyes and ears were distracted elsewhere,' I reminded the council. At last, the peril became apparent to them as they grasped the gravity of our position.

'What are we to do?' asked Maglos.

'We must assemble more men,' said Owain, and several others agreed. 'Send to the south for more men.' Others had other ideas and spoke them out.

Arthur let them have their say, and then told them how it would be. 'We cannot wait for more men. The enemy must not think they have frightened us. We strike quickly, and we strike boldly. Order your men, tomorrow we carry the battle to Cerdic and his barbarians.'

Baedun Hill rises above the woodlands, a big, rough, rock-strewn, double-humped tor. It is steep and flat-crested. Its chief advantage to the foemen lay in its size and the strong walls of its two old fortresses: they were enormous, large enough to hold the thirty thousand assembled there. And the walls, though they were not high, were double banked and made of stone.

I saw at once why they had chosen the place. The deep ditches ringing the mound made the uphill grade perilous, and the stone-scattered slopes made them treacherous for our horses. From the heights the enemy could rush swiftly down upon us as we struggled upward.

Yes, the battle site was wisely chosen. Cerdic had bethought himself well. To know that this treachery was practised upon us by one of our own made the fire leap in my belly. That he had caused the Saecsen to break faith with Arthur was the worse.

'A double fortress,' I said. Arthur and I had ridden ahead to view the enemy encampment. 'There is not another like it in all Britain. If we attack one side, they will come at us from the other. We are forced to divide our forces before the battle begins. What will you do?'

'I will make them yearn for peace. Long will they regret raising war against me.' The hollow cast of his voice sent the chill along my spine; it did not sound like Arthur. But his countenance remained unchanged, his brow lowered, his jaw firm. He jerked the reins back, wheeling his horse. He had made up his mind. 'Come, Bedwyr, we will return to the men.'

'What will you do?'

'You will see!' Arthur called back.

I hastened after him and we returned to the place where the combined warbands of Britain waited in the shelter of the wood below the lake, a short distance north of Baedun Hill.

The lords had gathered to await Arthur's return. The waiting had made them anxious and uneasy. They rushed to us as Arthur dismounted and demanded to know how he would order the battle. 'What do you intend?' they asked. 'Will you attack at once? What did you see? What are we to do?'

But Arthur would make no answer. 'Exalted lords,' he said, 'let tomorrow care for itself. Tonight we sup and sing, and embolden our hearts with high words.'

They did not like this answer, but it was the only one they received. Arthur did not heed their mutterings, but retired to his tent to rest. A little while later, Llenlleawg returned, his horse lathered and exhausted. He went directly to Arthur, and Myrddin joined them. The three remained together for a long time, talking.

Towards dusk, Arthur emerged from his rest. He had bathed, and bound his hair. And he had put on new clothing: red trousers and a mantle of white. Around his waist he wore a wide belt of gilded leather, and a cloak of deepest red across his shoulders. He carried his sword, Caledvwlch, at his side.

The cooking fires burned brightly, near the wagons where the stewards were busily preparing the meal of venison and onions. The air hung heavy and blue with smoke, spreading over the camp like a softly undulating roof. Gone was the usual noise and bustle of camp. Everywhere, men drew together; some talked, others looked to their weapons, still others sang softly – not battle songs, but the gentle home-hallowing melodies of fireside and family. Their thoughts carried back to those whom they might never see again. Every warrior's mortality weighs on him before a battle. It is natural, and necessary in a way.

Arthur walked among the men, speaking to them, encouraging them with good words, calming them, sharing out his spirit as if it were a treasure he might divide among them. To see him was to behold true nobility, and everyone who saw him took courage and their hearts were lifted up.

We ate our simple meal on the shore. The lake stretched out smooth as a mirror, and deep-hued black like iron. The dark wood crowded close, but at the lakeside the light lingered, reflected in the water. When we had eaten, Myrddin came with his harp and we sang with him beneath the stars, and the singing was sweet to hear.

Then arose Arthur and gathered the Cymbrogi before him at the lakeside. 'My countrymen!' he called. 'My kinsmen, listen to me. Tomorrow we will meet the enemy – those who call themselves Woden's Children – and we will fight.

'A thousand years from now the bards will sing of this battle. Our names will echo in the halls of mighty kings, and our deeds will live in the hearts of men yet to be born. So I ask you, my brothers, how will you be remembered?'

Men turned puzzled faces to one another.

Arthur began striding along the shore. The wavelets, all silver-flecked in the starlight, lapped quietly at his feet. 'As much as any warrior among you, I thirst for glory. But what glory? I ask you to consider now.'

A hushed murmur worked through the gathered ranks. We have never heard Duke Arthur speak like this to us, they said. What is the Bear of Britain saying?

'Yet a thousand years is a long time,' Arthur continued. 'A long time and much may be forgotten: who won the battle or how it was lost, the field where we fought and those who fought against us. All that will remain – if anything at all remains – is what manner of men we were.'

At this some of the men smacked their thighs with their open hands in approval. Here surely would come the word of courage and valour, of honour and bravery. But Arthur had something else in mind.

'I ask you to consider now, my brothers, what manner of men are we?' Arthur paused long, letting them work out an answer. Then he stopped pacing and held his arms out wide. 'My kinsmen, my brothers, what manner of men are we?'

'We are Britons!' someone shouted. 'Cymry!' cried another.

'Cymbrogi!' others called. 'Companions of the Heart!'

'Hie! Hie!' came the resounding agreement. 'We are Cymbrogi!'

Arthur held up his hands for silence and, when it was regained, he said, 'Oh, we are Fellow Countrymen, aye. But this is not our country of origin. Our true home is the heavenly realm wherein the Saviour God waits to greet all who own him Lord.

'Listen to me! Tomorrow we join battle with the barbarians. They will call upon their repulsive idol, Woden. But I ask you now, my brothers, who will you call upon?' He lowered his hands to shoulder level and indicated the gathered throng with a wide sweep of his arm. 'Who will hear your cries in the day of strife?

'Consider wisely now. For I tell you truly, whatever glory we achieve will die with us unless Jesu the Christ goes before us. But if we are called by his holy name, his glory will cover us like a mantle of gold – and though we die our deeds will be remembered for a thousand years, and a thousand thousand after that.'

Llenlleawg stepped close, bearing the Duke's shield. Arthur took it, turned it towards us and held it up above his head. Upon the new white washed surface had been painted a great red cross, the symbol of the Christ. 'From this day, I wear the cross of Jesu. By this, he goes before me into battle. If the High King of Heaven fights for us, who can prevail against us?'

The Cymbrogi were silent. Behind them stood throngs of others who had heard Arthur's voice and, drawn to it as to a beacon fire, had pressed closer to hear what he said.

Arthur planted the shield before him on the shore. He lifted a hand heavenward, pointing over their heads into the twilit sky where new-kindled stars burned. 'Look! The feet of the Holy One are already on the path. He will lead us if we follow him. I ask you, my brothers, who will follow?'

Up they rose, as one man. The Cymbrogi surged forward and by press of numbers forced Arthur into the lake. He stood in water up to his knees, but heeded it not. 'Kneel Cymbrogi, and swear everlasting allegiance to the High King of Heaven, who has promised to save all who own him lord! He will be your strong arm and your wise counsellor; he will be a shield to cover you, and a sword to defend you!'

They knelt by the hundreds, there in the shallow water. Some of the priests from Mailros who were with us – they had taken refuge with Ector when the barbarians arrived – began moving among them, cupping water in their hands and baptizing the new believers into the Fellowship of Faith. I looked on in awe, my heart beating in my throat, for Arthur's words had wakened in me the thirst for the divine glory he described.

I was of the Christianogi already, so had no need of another baptism, but I went down to the water, too, to ask forgiveness for my sins so that I might enter battle with a spotless soul. Many another Christian among us did the same, while others began singing a hymn of praise to the Gifting God, and the dusky hills echoed with the holiest of sounds.