Merlin

ELEVEN

The first drops splattered over us, but neither one moved. The storm grew, staining the sky violet and black like a wound – from which the rain gushed like blood.

'The battle, Myrddin; I have come to hear you tell it.' Ann-was held my gaze in his and made no move, despite the rain.

It was a moment before I could speak. 'What battle would that be?' I asked, dreading the answer. Darkness swirled around me, around the mountain itself in the form of a midnight mist 'that boiled out of nowhere. A rising wind began wailing among the crags, driving the rain.

'I think you know,' said Annwas gently.

'And it seems to me you know a great many things no man can possibly know of another!' I glared at him, feeling the wrath seethe in my soul once again. The wind screamed my defiance.

'Tell me,' he insisted gently, but his insistence was firm as rock. 'It will come easier once you begin.'

'Leave me!' I hated him for making me exhume those long-dead bones. The she-wolf leapt to her feet, snarling. Annwas lifted his hand to her and she subsided with a whimper.

'Myrddin,' the voice was soft as a mother's crooning to her babe, 'you will be healed. But first we must cut out the disease that poisons your soul.'

'I am happy as I am,' I gasped. Breath came hard to me. The wind howled now, and cold rain fell in stinging sheets upon us.

Annwas Adeniawc reached out his boney hand and touched my arm. 'No one is happy in hell, Myrddin. You have carried your burden long enough. It is time to lay it down.'

'Burden it may be, but it is all I have left!' I screamed, tears of rage and pain mingling with the rain on my face.

The hermit rose and went into my cave. I sat where I was until he called me. When I looked, there was a fire burning brightly just inside the entrance. 'Come in from the rain,' Annwas said. 'I will cook us something to eat while we talk.'

How long has it been since I had warm food in my belly? I wondered, and found myself going in to join him. I do not know where he found the small pot to hold the meaty stew, nor where he got the meat, nor the grain to make the bread. But as I watched him prepare the meal, and smelled it cooking, the fight went out of me and I began, haltingly, to tell him… and, God help me, I told him everything.

Ganieda went north that spring, to her father's house in Celyddon. It seems a woman needs to be near her own when a babe is born. I was against it, but my wife could be a most persuasive woman, and in the end Ganieda had her way.

I arranged the journey, taking every precaution, seeing to every detail personally, for I knew I would not be able to travel with her. She sought to reassure me. 'It will be lovely in Goddeu in the summer. You come when you can, my soul. Elma will be so surprised.' She kissed me. 'You are right to have a care for the journey, but nothing will happen to me.'

'It is not an afternoon's ride in the woods, Ganieda.'

'No, no it is not. And you are right to remind me. But I am not so far along with child that sitting a horse will be a hardship.' She stood up straight and smoothed her mantle over her still-flat stomach. 'See? I have not even begun to show. Besides, I am a most fearsome hand with a spear, am I not, love? I will be safe.'

Jesu, I should have gone with her!

'Anyway, I could not for one moment imagine having a baby without Elma to help me,' she continued. Elma was midwife to her mother, and the nearest thing to a mother Ganieda remembered. And, as I said, a woman needs to be with her own when the birth pangs begin. 'You worry for nothing, Myrddin. Gwendolau rides to meet us. And, if I do not leave soon, he will be here even before I start out.'

'Better still,' I remarked.

'Come with me, then.'

'Ah, Ganieda, you know I cannot. The towers, the horses, the warband must be trained -'

She stepped close and put her hands on my shoulders as she settled lightly in my lap, where I sat in my chair. 'Come with me, husband.'

I sighed. We had had this discussion before. 'I will follow as soon as I can,' I told her. It was only a few months. Ganieda had to set out now, while she could still make the journey safely and in some comfort. I was to follow when my summer's work was finished, joining her in the autumn. The babe would not be born until deep winter, so there was plenty of time for us to be together once I arrived in Goddeu.

The crops were well in when she finally set out. I sent her with thirty of my warband, and she took four of her women for company. Half as many would have sufficed, but I was of a mind to be cautious and Maelwys agreed, insisting that it was better safe than sorry. 'I would do the same if I stood in your place,' he told me.

It was still early in what was coming to be known as the warring season, so the actual risk of the travellers running into trouble on the road was not-great. Also, I had devised a route that kept them well away from the coasts. The only likely danger would be when they reached the Wall, and by then Gwendolau would have met them and they would be a force of fifty or more. There was no danger.

So, Ganieda left Maridunum one bright morning with her escort and I watched her go, feeling the warmth of her lips on my mouth as she turned her mount and joined the others, leaving the yard and striking off along the old road.

Oh, it was a jolly band. And why not? Ganieda was going home to have our baby and the world was a wondrous place. She waved farewell to me until she was out of sight; and I waved, too, until the flank of the hill took her from view. Then I said a prayer for her safety – not the first, nor the last, mind you – and went about my duties.

A balmy summer followed close on the heels of spring. The thirty returned in due time with the report that all had been well on the road and after. They had seen Ganieda to her father's house and stayed there to rest the horses for a few days before turning back. Custennin was delighted to have his daughter home and sent his regards and the message that all was well with him and his realm. It was a quiet summer for. them; there had been no raids.

I was relieved, at last, and turned my attention to finishing my tasks, so that I might ride after her as soon as may be.

Maelwys and I worked hard, dawn to dusk every day, and retired to our beds exhausted. More than once, Pelleas had to wake me from my chair at the table so that I could stumble to my chamber. Charis had charge of the king's household and servants so that we could collapse each night with food in our bellies without having to think about that, too, or I fear we might have starved.

The watchtowers along the coast were mostly finished and the relay towers inland well begun; the new men had received their first summer's training; our horse herd had been increased by twenty-eight sturdy colts, and a few hides of land cleared for future grazing.

You see, already I was thinking of horses, breeding for size, strength, courage and endurance. It was to be a fight won on horseback by a force of mounted fighting men like the old Roman ala.

Well, we had an early autumn and at last I could leave. I chose thirty to go with me. Rather, I took thirty from the three hundred who clamoured to be allowed to ride at my side. I have no idea why I took that many. It had been in my mind to take only a third of that number but, when the time came, the choice was not so easily made and I had not the heart to turn them away.

It took but a day to gather supplies and provisions, and we set out for Celyddon.

The days were indeed golden. It had been a good summer and bountiful crops were coming under the scythe everywhere; the herds appeared healthy and well grown; every holding and settlement boasted new dwellings, and occasionally even a hall. The fear that had grown in the land with the last few years had receded a good deal, given even a brief respite from the worrying raids. Everywhere men were encouraged and hopeful.

After many days on the trail we came to Yr Widdfa, a bleak and forsaken land when compared to the rich south. But even here summer had worked its manifold miracles and the flocks had swelled their numbers, and men were content. We camped one star-filled night in a high mountain pass and awakened to frost on the mountain heather. We saddled our snorting mounts and started down that morning into the stepped lowlands falling away towards the Wall.

The day was dazzling clear and I could see Celyddon's dark mass spreading on the far horizon. A few more days and we would reach its outermost fringe. A few days after that and I would sleep once more in Ganieda's arms.

When we reached the forest I sent scouts on ahead to announce our arrival. Custennin would welcome the news, I knew, and so would Ganieda.

Oh, my soul was restlessness itself. Our long separation had been harder on me than I knew, for the thought of holding her again filled me with an exquisite ache. My saddle became a prison and time could not pass quickly enough. I slept little; thoughts of Ganieda and our child made me fretful in my desire to be with her. I had so much to tell her about all that had happened in her absence. I believe I would have ridden through the night, if that were possible in tangled Celyddon.

My torment was sweet, but it was torment all the same.

At last, however, at last the day of arrival dawned and I was awake before anyone else, knowing that if we rode hard we could reach Custennin's palace by midday. The scouts would have reached them the night before, I reckoned, and Ganieda would be waiting. I meant to make her wait as short as possible.

The wood awakened around us as we rode through the night-quiet forest along the narrow track. We stopped a little after sunrise and broke fast – I allowed the men to dismount, but only while they ate and then it was back in the saddle and hurrying on.

At midday we reached the crest of the last hill where the track widened somewhat as it wound down through the forest towards Goddeu. We could not see Custennin's stronghold of course, but we were close.

The first warning came a little while later.

We had stopped at a stream to rest and water the horses before continuing on the last stretch of the journey. A few of my men had crossed the stream to give more room to those behind; and they had spread out along the bank.

I heard a shout as I knelt, scooping water to my mouth.

'Lord Myrddin!' My name echoed in the close wood. 'Lord Myrddin!'

'Here I am,' I answered. 'What is it?'

One of my fourth-year warriors came running to me. 'Lord Myrddin, I have found something you should see.'

'What is it, Balach?' I read nothing, save concern, from the look on his face.

'Mantracks in the mud, lord.' He raised his arm to point downstream from us. 'Just there.'

'How many?'

'I would not like to say. My lord should see for himself.'

'Show me where they are.'

He led me downstream to the place he had indicated. I splashed my way through the water to the other side of the stream and there on the muddy bank I saw the footprints of a score or more men. There were no footprints on the opposite bank – the group had not crossed the stream, they had come out of it…

Saecsens!

It was something Saecsens did when travelling in heavily forested country: follow the natural pathway of the stream. This is how they traversed difficult country unknown to them…

And now they had come to Celyddon.

What is more, they were ahead of us – how far ahead I could only guess. The tracks were still fairly fresh, not more than a few hours old. Unfamiliar with the land, they would go slowly. We might overtake them on horseback. Great Light, help us catch them!

I gave the order to mount up at once, and told my warriors to ready their arms and to remain alert to an ambush. Then we rode.

Our precautions seemed unnecessary. We saw no more tracks and, if I had not seen them myself, I would have thought Balach had imagined them. Although we stopped from time to time simply to listen, we heard nothing but the light chatter of squirrels and the scolding of crows.

We rode on towards Goddeu, and despite die apparent peace of the wood, deep foreboding drew over me – a dread to make my heart leaden in my chest. Fear came at me from out of the sunfilled forest – whispers of disquiet, of hushed alarm.

I raced ahead.

Then the horses grew nervous. I believe they can smell blood at a fair distance.

Well in front of the warband now, I crested a knoll and came into view of Goddeu, quiet beside the mirror-smooth lake. The sun shone full on the trail ahead and I saw the bodies there.

I spurred my horse forward to the place and flung myself from my saddle. It was a party of women…

Oh, Good God, no!

Ganieda!

I knelt and turned over the first one. A maid with dark braids. Her throat had been severed.

The next had been pierced through the heart and the front of her white mantle was stained deepest crimson. The body was still warm.

Ganieda, my soul, where are you?

I stumbled unseeing to a knot of tumbled corpses. What the brutal Saecsen axes had done to those once-beautiful bodies made me weep and gnash my teeth. Some had been ravaged before being murdered, and their clothing had been torn from their limbs. For the love of God – the ugly wounds between their legs! All had died horribly.

May heaven shut me out for ever, I wish that I had died that day!

There were seven young women in that group. But Ganieda was not among them. Oh, please, Loving Father! My heart grasped that tiny hope as I lurched on. Behind me the first of the warband were thundering up.

I do not know what made me turn from the track. Perhaps the soft shimmer of pale blue among the shadows…

I walked towards the fallen tree, an old stump long dead. There, on the far side were two more women slumped across the body of a third. I lifted them aside, gently, gently…

Ganieda's women had died protecting their lady with their own bodies.

But the barbarians had seen Ganieda was pregnant. Oh, they had made great sport of killing her.

Great Light, I cannot bear it!

Oh, Annwas, I see her body before me… I feel its fleeting warmth in my hands… I taste again her blood on my lips as I kiss her cold cheek… I cannot bear it… Please, do not make me tell it!

But you want to hear. You want to hear me say the thing most hateful to me of all I know… Very well, I will tell it all, so that all may know my anguish and my shame.

Ganieda had taken many wounds. Her mantle was sodden with thickening blood, and rent in several places as they had tried to strip her naked. One lovely breast had been carved from her body, and her proud, swelling stomach had been run through with the point of a sword… Loving God, please, no! Stabbed – not once but again, and again, and yet again.

My legs would not hold me. I fell across the body of my beloved, a great cry of grief tearing from my throat. I raised myself and held Ganieda's beautiful face in my hands. It was not beautiful any more, but twisted in horrific agony, bespattered with blood, her clear eyes cloudy and unseeing.

Beasts! Barbarians!

And then I saw it: protruding from one of the stomach wounds… Dearest God!… reaching for life it would never know was a tiny, unborn hand. Blue and still, minutely veined, its tiny wrist extending from the wall of the dead womb… the hand of my babe, my darling child…