I had gone to the breeding runs – the sheltered glens east of Caer Melyn, where we wintered our horses and maintained the breeding stock – to see what we could count on for the coming year. It was foaling season, so I stayed on to help midwife a few colts into the world.
Winter had lingered long and I was glad to be free of the caer for a few days. I have always disliked close places, preferring wide hills and a lofty sky to the walls and peaked roof of a hall. Though cold at night, I was glad to stay with the herders in their hut, and ride with them during the day as they tended the animals.
One gusty morning, I was leading four swell-bellied mares down the valley to the enclosure near the hut where they could be delivered more easily. Feeling the fresh wind on my face, my spirit rose within me and I began to sing – loudly and with vigour – or I might have heard the rider calling me.
Indeed, I did not hear him until he was all but on top of me. 'Bedwyr! Hail, Bedwyr! Wait!'
I turned to see one of the younger warriors galloping towards me. I greeted him as he reined up and fell in beside me. 'Greetings, Drusus, what do you here?'
'Lord Cai has sent me to bring you. Arthur has returned and would have you with him. We are riding out in three days' time.'
'Riding where?' I knew nothing of any trouble anywhere. 'I cannot say; Cai did not tell me. Will you come?' 'I will see these horses settled first. Rest yourself while you wait, and we will return together.'
I continued on down the valley and gave the mares over to the care of a herdsman. I gathered my cloak and weapons from the hut, and rode back to the caer at once. All the while, I bethought me what could be happening. I could get nothing more from Drusus, so contented myself with flying over the windswept hills as fast as my horse could run. God's truth, I would have made all speed anyway, I was that anxious to see Arthur.
He was standing in the centre of a tumult of urgent bustle, talking to Cai, when I rode in. I threw myself from the saddle, and ran to meet Arthur. 'Jesu be praised! The wanderer has returned!' I cried.
'Hail, Bedwyr!' he called, a great grin appearing instantly on his face. 'Have we a herd?'
'We have a herd. Fifteen foals already, and twenty more perhaps before the season is done. It is blood and breath to see you, Artos.'
I stepped close and we gripped one another by the arms like brothers, and he wrapped me in his rib-cracking bear hug. 'You have weathered well, I see.' He thumped me soundly on the back. 'Was the winter to your liking?' 'A little long,' I admitted, 'but not too cold.' 'Cai has told me you drove Rhys nearly mad with your complaining. He is only a bard, Bedwyr. Would you have him change the weather with a song?'
'A fresh tale to pass the time would suffice. But look at you, Bear – you seem to have fallen in with the Fair Folk.' His smile became mysterious and he drew his sword for me to admire. 'This is Caledvwlch,' he told me. 'It was given me by the Lady of the Lake.'
I had never seen a weapon like it, and told him so. 'A man could win a kingdom with this,' I observed, feeling its quick weight fill my hand. The blade seemed instantly a part of me, more a bright extension of my arm than a measured length of cold steel.
'Well said,' Arthur replied, 'and that kingdom has a name.'
That is all he said, and he would speak no more about it then. 'Come to me in my chambers. I will summon Myrddin.' He walked away across the yard.
I glanced at Cai, who shrugged, as puzzled by the change in Arthur as I was myself. For our friend had changed.
Or perhaps, because of bis long absence, I was only seeing a different side to Arthur from any I had seen before. But no, we were brothers! I knew him well enough to know that something had happened to him at Ynys Avallach. I determined to find out from Myrddin.
'I hear we are to ride in three days,' I said, as Cai and I moved off towards the hall. 'Any idea where we are going?'
To the Saecsen Shore.'
I stopped walking and turned him round by the arm. 'Is this one of your tasteless jests?'
'It is no jest.' For once the green eyes in his ruddy face were serious. 'That is what he told me – although he said no more than that. And now you know as much about it as I do.'
'Did you notice how he grinned at me?' I said, as we continued to the hall. 'I have seen a smile like that only twice in my life till now: the first time was on the face of a slow-witted youth who stole a pig from my father's sty and was caught trying to sell it in the market, and the second was when old Gerontius died at his prayers.'
Cai laughed out loud. 'I do not think Arthur has been stealing pigs, but that is always a possibility.'
'It is the truth I am telling, Caius; I do not like this. Mark me well, nothing good will come of this.'
'Come of what?'
This… this! You know what I mean.'
He laughed again and slapped me on the back. 'You think too much, Bedwyr. You should have been a druid. Let be; all will be well.'
We walked through the hall to Arthur's chamber at the far end and waited. Presently, Pelleas entered and greeted us warmly – after his peculiar fashion.
The Fair Folk always astonish me. They are not like us in the least. They are a lofty race, for ever holding themselves apart from the life around them. Wondrous fair to look upon, they are nonetheless shy, and by nature do not display their emotions. I think it is pride.
Myrddin is less like this. But then, he is only half Fair Folk… although, what the other half is no one knows.
'Any news from Ynys Avallach, Pelleas?' I asked. I had never been to the Fisher King's palace, but I had heard Myrddin talk about it often enough to know the place.
'We passed a most agreeable winter, Prince Bedwyr,' he replied. This was meant, I suppose, to be a most detailed account of their activities. I had known Pelleas since I was a twig, and this was how he talked to me.
'Is it true that it never snows on the Glass Isle?' Cai put the question to him seriously, but I saw the edges of his mouth twitch in mirth.
'Of course it snows, you young genius!' The voice was that of the Emrys, who entered at that moment with Arthur behind him. 'Greetings, Cai and Bedwyr.'
'Myrddin!' I turned and was swept into his embrace.
'Winter starved and spring hungry, eh?' he said, gripping my arms and peering into my eyes as if searching my soul for the answer. He always did that. Some people find it most unnerving, I am told.
'God's truth, I am!' I declared. 'But you look as if you have lived on roast duck and honey cakes all winter. Jesu be good to you, look at you now!'
Indeed, he appeared as fit as I have ever seen him – not that he ever changed all that much.
'Sit down, all of you,' said Arthur, indicating the benches at his council table. 'We must talk.' He drew up his chair – it was Uther's old camp chair. I never learned where or how he had come by it, unless Tewdrig had somehow got it for him.
Spreading his hands across the board, Arthur studied his fingers, as if trying to decide which of the ten pleased him most. 'It is my intention to ride to the Saecsen Shore in three days' time.'
I glanced round at the others. No one showed a flicker of surprise. Perhaps I have misheard him, I thought; perhaps he said, 'It is my intention to have mutton for supper.'
But, as no one else responded, I said, 'Forgive me, brother, did I understand you to say that we were to attack the Saecsen Shore in three days?'
Arthur smiled his fishy smile again, and shook his head. 'No, there will be no attack. I am going to offer them terms for peace.'
'Peace?' I stared dumbfounded. 'Now I know you have straw for brains, Artos. Leaving aside the fact that you have not the authority, what makes you think they will honour a treaty of peace made with you?'
'I am the Duke of Britain, the war leader. Who else has the right to grant peace if I do not?'
'But, the Saecsens! Have you forgotten the slaughter of four years ago?'
'I have not forgotten, Bedwyr. But I stand ready to forgive them, if they will hold peace with us.'
> 'And if not?'
'Then we will do what we have to do,' he said, sounding a little more like the Arthur I knew. 'But we would be less than Christians if we did not offer peace before taking up the sword.'
'I see. And what will prevent them from cleaving your head from your shoulders before your tongue has finished flapping? They are Saecsens!'
'And they are men, as we are. No more will I make war on any man – be he Saecsen or Briton – unless I have first offered peace.' The conviction with which he spoke was unassailable.
'Is that the way of it?'
That is the way of it.' Arthur might have been a standing stone for all he would be moved. Once he had an idea in his head, there was no shaking it from him. Arthur was not the Bear of Britain for nothing.
'I am sending messengers to bid any king who will to ride with us,' Arthur continued. 'I pray that some will. But whether they ride with me or not, we leave Caer Melyn in three days.'
'And may God go with us,' I said. We fell to talking about readying the warband to ride – moving so many men is always a chore. Nothing more was said about Arthur's crack-brained peacemongering scheme. When we finished, Arthur called for beer to be brought and we drank. Then we went about our various tasks.
So it was not until we returned to the hall for our supper that I found opportunity to speak to Myrddin.
'Tell me, Wise Emrys,' I said, as I sidled up to him, 'what has become of our beloved Duke?'
He regarded me closely with those golden eyes of his. 'He is coming into his power.'
'That is no answer. What power? How has it come to him? Who conferred it? Where has it come from? And why does it make him soft-headed?'
'It is not his head that has changed, Bedwyr, but bis heart.'
'Head, heart – I hardly recognize him!' Myrddin smiled understandingly. 'Give it time. He will come back to himself."
'I welcome your assurance. Unfortunately, we will all be dead. Saecsens do not want our peace, they want our land and cattle.'
'Arthur has learned a greater truth. His kingdom will be established on justice and mercy towards all men who shelter in this island.' 'Including the Saecsen?'
'Yes, Bedwyr, including the Saecsen. It must be this way.'
'That is not truth, that is madness.' 'If any man has reason to hate the Saecsen, it is me,' Myrddin replied gently. 'Do you know what my friend Hafgan used to tell me?'
Hafgan, I knew, was Myrddin's druid teacher. He was now remembered as the last of the Three True Bards of the Island of the Mighty. 'No, Wise Emrys, enlighten me. What did Hafgan tell you?'
'He said that once some men were digging a well and came upon a great flat stone. It was, they discovered, the foundation stone of this worlds-realm, so they decided to lift it up and see what lay beneath it. This they did. And do you know what they found?'
'I cannot say. What did they find?'
'Love,' replied Myrddin simply.
'Love. That is all?' I resented myself for being cozened by Myrddin's children's tale.
'There is nothing else, Bedwyr. Love lies beneath all that is and upholds it. Arthur has seen that this is so. His kingdom will be built upon the only enduring foundation.'
I went away, shaking my head. It was not that I did not believe. For the love of God, if faith alone lent men rank, I would be Pope! But I know a thing or two about Saecsens, I will say. And it is a difficult thing to preach the love of Christ to a man with his axe in your skull!
Wonderfully benevolent Arthur's plan might be, and wonderfully foolish as well.
Yet, if Myrddin was with him in this, there was nothing to be done. Bors might have been counted on to argue against Arthur's peace scheme, but he had not returned from Benowyc, and would not until the spring seas calmed. It was no good trying to enlist Cai's aid. Cai would never hear a word against Arthur, God love him. His devotion knew no hindrance, his loyalty no restraint. He gave all to Arthur without stint. Right or wrong – it was all the same to Cai, where Arthur came into it.
This was due, I believe, to something that had happened between them years ago. I once heard the tale from Pelleas – how the two of them had climbed a mountain together. With Cai's crooked leg, this could have been no easy task. Be that as it may, when the deed was done Arthur had inspired in Cai the kind of devotion few men ever know: zealous, deep, unselfish, stronger and more steadfast than death.
So, since that was the way of it, I decided to say my prayers and sharpen my sword.
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?
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