by N. M. Browne
‘I’ll make a new oath if you want,’ Dan said.
Ursula shook her head vigorously and wiped her face. Her eyes were pink and puffy looking, and her nose seemed to have swelled to about twice its normal size.
‘I don’t need your oath – I believe you. I’m your friend, Dan – you shouldn’t need to keep away from me.’
‘What about Larcius?’
‘What about Larcius?’
It seemed impossible to Dan that she could not acknowledge the strength of the attraction she felt for the man. He could feel it charging the air, whenever she was with him. But it wasn’t the time to argue. They had only just made up.
‘It doesn’t matter. I wondered if he was your friend too.’
‘Not like you,’ she answered firmly. ‘For a start, he’s sane.’ Ursula grinned and let go of his hand.
Dan found it impossible not to smile back. His spirits felt lighter than they had for days. His problems no longer seemed quite so insurmountable.
When they separated, Brother Frontalis gave them a very odd look. ‘I think you had both better come to the barracks and get cleaned up. I’ve just had word from the High King, Taliesin is sick and Arturus says we must move tomorrow.’
Chapter Nineteen
Taliesin lay insensible on a pallet in the barracks hospital. Dan approached cautiously, afraid of what he might feel from the sick man.
Ursula held Dan’s hand. ‘Do you think—?’
Dan squeezed her hand. ‘I don’t know.’
Ursula had a terrible sense of dread. Dan squatted down beside the old man. Taliesin was thin and the flesh of his face seemed inadequate to cover the skeletal structure, he was bone pale and scarcely breathed.
Brother Frontalis hovered around his friend, his fleshy bulk accentuating the frailty of the bard.
‘Do you know what is wrong with him?’ Dan asked hesitantly. ‘Do you know if he has done anything unusual in the last few hours?’
‘If you mean, do I know if he’s been practising sorcery, the answer is yes.’
‘What did he try to do?’
The Christian holy man dropped his eyes.
‘May the Lord forgive me if I have done wrong, but he asked me to stay with him while he meditated. He went into a trance, as he has done before, and I thought I saw a bird, a brown bird, a merlin falcon, fly round the room, though the shutters were closed, and then it disappeared. Taliesin had told me once that he imagined his soul to be a small swift hawk, earthbound in his ageing form. He liked to imagine that it could leave his body and soar. I wondered if he was right, if his druid soul really was a merlin falcon and if I had seen it go to its home.’ Brother Frontalis looked worried. ‘But he lives yet and I do not know if I should have prevented him.’
‘Did the bird return?’
Frontalis shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Taliesin has told me before to note what he says when he …’ Words seemed to fail Frontalis for a moment. ‘When he does this thing – for what Taliesin the merlin knows, Taliesin the man knows also. A little while ago he mumbled something about Aelle mobilising and ships off the coast – twenty or thirty Aenglisc ships. I ran to tell the Duke, I mean the High King. He takes Taliesin’s visions seriously. That’s why Arturus took the decision to march at dawn. If his troops don’t get to Mons Badonicus in time the Aenglisc will attack Caer-Baddon and the west will be taken. When I returned to Taliesin, not long after, he looked like this. I should not have left him. I hoped that you might know what to do with him – it is beyond my power to save him except through prayer alone. I was on my way to fetch you – well, when I found you, er … disagreeing.’
Dan had himself gone pale.
Ursula glanced from Dan to Frontalis and saw the same grave expression on each of their faces. ‘Well, what is it?’
Dan sighed. ‘I don’t know how to explain it, but Taliesin isn’t here. I mean he’s not asleep – I can’t feel anything from him at all.’
‘You’re not telling me his soul – whatever – really was that bird?’ Ursula sounded sceptical.
‘I don’t know, Ursula. I’m not trying to tell you anything, but that is what Brother Frontalis thinks.’
‘Indeed,’ agreed Frontalis. ‘If the body and the soul cannot be separated how can the life of the one survive the death of the other?’
‘Do you think that could happen the other way around?’ Ursula looked horrified.
‘I have never believed it, for the soul is immortal, but …’ Brother Frontalis paced the room. ‘I have always thought Taliesin, in his own way, served the One, but what if his soul is held now by the devil?’
‘Dan, what do you think?’
‘I think he’s got lost, like you got lost when you shape-shifted into the form of an eagle in Macsen’s land. It is not quite the same but he is every bit as lost as you were.’
‘Taliesin saved me then – he and you. What can we do, Dan?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe just hope he finds his own way back. Can anyone else here play his harp?’
Brother Frontalis shrugged. ‘He was always trying to recruit people but the boys here grow up to be farmers or fighters, or follow the church. There was not as much interest as he’d hoped for. But I think your boy Bryn has been spending time with him while you’ve not been around.’
Dan felt sudden guilt. He’d not had much time for Bryn of late, he’d been so wholly self-absorbed. He’d assumed Bryn had spent his time in the stables or with Braveheart, who he’d also neglected.
‘You can’t learn the harp in a few days,’ said Dan. ‘No, but Bryn had begun to train as a bard, before his father died.’
‘He never told me that.’
Brother Frontalis said nothing – he did not have to. Dan was already very aware that he knew very little about the boy who had pledged to serve him until he died and who would, Dan knew, lay down his life for him. It was a humbling realisation.
‘I’ll go and find him.’ Ursula was on the move as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
‘No! I’ll go. I need to apologise to Bryn – I’ve been very selfish – I haven’t even thought about how he might feel and I’ve stayed away from him and everyone else so I wouldn’t have to find out.’ Dan straightened his bowed shoulders.
‘Don’t worry, Ursula, I’ll find a way to get Taliesin back. Why don’t you go and find out what Arturus wants of you? I’m sure you’re an important part of his plans.’ Dan spoke without rancour, as if his tears had washed away all the resentment that had been building up against her, all the jealousy at her freedom from the burden of other people’s feelings with which he was afflicted.
‘But I can’t leave Taliesin …’
Dan turned to look at her – he met her eyes and held them.
‘Ursula, I cannot fight any more, please let me do what I can do and trust me to do it. I know you will do all that Arturus needs you to do, please trust me.’
She could not refuse, and he knew it.
‘OK,’ she said in English, ‘but send me word.’
He nodded tersely.
‘I’ll walk with you to the stables. I expect Bryn will be there. Will you also take Braveheart? He will not want to be left behind.’
‘But Dan—’
‘Ursula, I don’t think I have behaved very well just lately. There’s lots of different kinds of courage and I’ve been cowardly over facing up to what has happened to me. I was jealous of the way you’ve found a place here, and I felt bad that I wasn’t able to beat Cerdic.’
‘But he’s a massive man – no one would have expected you to beat him – not without the berserker madness!’
‘But you did!’
‘Dan, you know that I’m still Boar Skull, that I’ve got his magical strength. If I was just me I wouldn’t have stood a chance.’
‘I know it with my head, Ursula, but I still felt pretty stupid being rescued by a …’
‘You can say it, Dan.’ Ursula sounded angry.
‘OK then, by a gi
rl!’ Dan flung the word at her like an accusation.
‘I never thought you were sexist.’
‘Neither did I! But I didn’t like it.’
‘So next time, I’ll let someone kill you, shall I?’ Ursula was still furious.
‘No, I think I’d rather be jealous.’
Ursula glared at Dan, who glared back, and then began to laugh.
‘Cerdic did look ridiculous.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, if you think I felt bad about it, imagine how he felt.’
Ursula started to grin in spite of herself. ‘You won’t do anything too risky to save Taliesin, will you?’
‘Only if you don’t do anything risky to help Arturus.’ She shrugged. ‘Well, OK. Good point. But try and talk to me – you know, with your mind, if you can.’
Dan smiled shyly and nodded.
‘Good luck, Ursula.’ He kissed her lightly on her cheek. She lowered her eyes in embarrassment, but something else too – relief, pleasure?
‘Good luck, Dan. Will you follow us to the fortress?’
‘If I can.’
She watched him walk to the stables. The whole training area of the barracks was now given over to horses, their riders, and their kit – it smelled like a zoo and the task of feeding men and beasts was a full-time job. Bryn had found himself a home there. He had not wanted to stay on at the inn without Dan. Ursula ought to have checked on him. Dan was right. They had both let Bryn down.
She walked back to the inn to collect her own things and get some rest before their departure. She did not want to begin the march half blind with exhaustion. She was nervous of leaving Camulodunum behind, worried about what was to come. She did not want to leave Dan and Taliesin and Bryn, and yet she knew she could inspire the men. She knew that to them she was more than a fighting hero; thanks to Taliesin’s influence they saw her as a gift from God to ensure their victory. She was all too aware of the heavy weight of their expectations.
It was close to midnight, scant hours before they would start to march. She left the stench of the barracks behind and saw King Meirchion’s second, Cynfach, the commander of the Sarmatians, walking alone. She knew him quite well and liked him.
‘Cynfach! What have I missed?’
Cynfach started, then recognised Ursula’s tall figure.
‘Oh, Ursula, you were missed at supper. Are you well?’
She nodded, and then realising it was too dark for him to see her properly she said, ‘Of course, I had to see Gawain, that was all. What was said?’
‘The High King has had word that Aelle is mobilising. Ships have been seen off the coast. If we don’t leave soon we may be cut off. The reconnaissance group leave at dawn, so they can lay out the camp and get everything organised, then the light horse under Cerdic, then Arturus and the command group and the infantry, then us and you, I believe, and finally the baggage train. The good news is that by the time we get to camp all the work will be done, the trenches dug, the fortifications built, and all the rest of it. The food might even be ready.’
‘It sounds very complicated.’
‘The High King does things in the old way, the Roman way. It is the way the Caesars of old did things in hostile territory and what was good enough for them …’
Cynfach clearly approved, but then he would. The Sarmatians, like Arturus, did things in the old way as passed on from one generation to the next.
‘How are the men?’
‘Oh, glad to be moving. They’re rested now, from the ride here. They’ve had enough training. They’re ready for action.’ Then he added in a quieter voice, ‘Nervous too.’ He flashed a grin, a sudden whiteness in the darkness – he had good teeth. ‘Like me! For some it will be their first real battle, as it will be my first real command.’
‘They and you will be fine.’
‘Do you think so?’ Cynfach sounded unexpectedly eager for her reassurance.
‘I know so.’
‘And you will ride with us?’ He sounded almost painfully anxious.
‘I hope so, Cynfach, I’m looking forward to it.’ She yawned. ‘I’m going to grab a couple of hours’ sleep. See you at dawn.’
‘Good-night, my Lady Ursa.’
It was a strange feeling for a twenty-first-century schoolgirl to know that five hundred heavy cavalry and their leader depended on her. She did not need Dan’s gift to know they did – it was simple fact and she could not, would not let them down.
She wondered if Dan had found Bryn and if they could help Taliesin. She pushed that worry from her mind. She had to trust Dan. She crept into the inn with its now familiar smell of grease, wood smoke, and hops. She thought that with so much to think about it would be hard to sleep. It was not.
Chapter Twenty
Dan could sense the anxiety, fear and excitement of the men sleeping fitfully in their barracks, or lying alongside their horses in the makeshift stables that all but filled the parade ground. He managed to distract himself from the fragments of other people’s nightmares and odd dreams that trickled into his mind. He could learn to ignore them, he was sure he could, given time and resolve and some of Brother Frontalis’s faith.
He found Bryn curled up in a grubby blanket near the lantern of the watch. Dan wondered if maybe he was afraid of the dark. Bryn’s arms were wrapped around Braveheart’s neck and his small body was snuggled into his flank. Braveheart had been Bryn’s father’s war dog. It was possible he’d slept like that in his own home. Bryn looked small and vulnerable in sleep, his fierce eyes closed, just like any small boy in need of a good wash. A louse crawled across Bryn’s forehead and Dan fought the urge to pick it up and crush it. He was surprised at the wave of tenderness he felt towards the boy, and was reminded painfully of his own little sister, Lizzie. He ought to be ashamed of his neglecting Bryn. He was ashamed. Nodding at the officer of the watch, who recognised him and sketched a salute, Dan gently touched Bryn’s shoulder. Braveheart opened his eyes at the sound of Dan’s approach, but refrained from leaping up in a greeting. Even the great war dog was respectful of Bryn’s vulnerability and stayed quite still, only thumping his tail and raising his huge head to gaze adoringly at his master. Dan stroked the rough wolfish coat of the huge hound and tickled him behind the ears. There was no rebuke in the dog’s dark eyes but there should have been. Dan had not even checked that he’d been properly fed.
‘Bryn!’ Dan whispered.
Bryn was instantly awake, his hand at once on his belt knife.
‘Bryn, it’s Dan.’
Bryn’s eyes creased into a smile of pleasure. ‘My Lord! Do you need me?’
With something of a lump in his throat, Dan nodded. ‘I believe you’ve been hiding your talent from me.’
Bryn frowned, puzzled. He rubbed his eyes with a dirty hand and scratched his hair.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You can play the harp.’
‘Oh, I never thought to tell you, sir. I was only at the beginning of my training.’
Dan could feel Bryn’s growing anxiety that he might have displeased Dan. ‘It’s fine, Bryn, but I need you to do it now.’
‘Of course.’ Bryn disentangled his cloak from under Braveheart’s side and was on his feet without further questions.
‘Braveheart, stay here until Ursula comes. You understand?’
The dog whimpered and looked questioningly at Dan.
‘You must fight alongside Ursula. Good dog.’ Dan made a picture in his mind of Braveheart running alongside Ursula’s horse. He did not know for sure what Braveheart understood, but with a small whine of protest he lay back in the straw of the stable floor, only following Dan with his eyes.
‘You’re not going to fight?’ Bryn looked bemused. He was trying to hide his disappointment and his shame on Dan’s behalf.
‘It’s hard to explain, Bryn, but I’m sure there is another way to help the High King Arturus achieve his victory.’
Bryn nodded without conviction but said
nothing. They waited until they had left the stable behind for the cool darkness of the training ground. Still speaking in a low voice, Dan asked, ‘Do you know how to play Taliesin’s harp?’
‘It is a very great instrument. He let me touch it once.’ Bryn sounded awestruck.
‘Yes, but in an emergency could you play it?’
Bryn must have wondered what kind of bardic emergency was likely to arise in a world where the songs of Bryn’s world had almost been forgotten.
‘I can play a simple accompaniment to a couple of the great song cycles – but I don’t know all the words. At home, I would have been an apprentice for five years before I would be allowed to sing them in public. I have only studied and practised for maybe half a year at home before Da died and then for some days here. I am not really worthy.’
Bryn’s doubt was contagious. Maybe Dan’s plan would not work.
‘Bryn, I think you are my only hope.’
Even in the darkness, Dan could see Bryn square his shoulders.
‘I will try, Dan – whatever you want.’
‘Taliesin is in a trance – I thought his music might bring him back like it once did for Ursula.’
‘But Taliesin is a great bard, Dan, the most skilled our world had known for generations. He was famous – more famous even than Prince Macsen, before the Prince fought the Ravens. I don’t know any of the secret knowledge, I was too young. I was good, mind, for my age,’ said Bryn quickly, so that Dan might not think too ill of him. Dan could not find the words needed to reassure Bryn. He patted him awkwardly on the shoulder and said the first thing that came to his mind.
‘I trust you, Bryn, I know you will do all you can.’
Brother Frontalis knew where Taliesin kept his harp, a smaller instrument than its descendant in Dan’s world. Bryn carried it as though it were a holy relic to the room where the former bard lay, still and pale as a dead man. Bryn was nervous and afraid. Brother Frontalis knelt at the foot of the bed praying. He looked up only to acknowledge them with his eyes and carried on. He was so focused on his task that Dan could feel no emotion coming from him at all, his whole self had become like a light beam from a torch, intent on prayer.
