Warriors of Camlann

by N. M. Browne

  ‘I have told you, I will not fight.’

  ‘But our enemies don’t know that. They have heard the stories about the Bear Sark. Having you looking like a warrior will make the men feel safer, and morale is important.’

  ‘I already thought of that,’ said Dan with a grin, opening his cloak to show the splendid scale armour that Arturus had given him.

  ‘And it’s a pity the Lady Ursa is not here to see you in all your splendour,’ said Brother Frontalis with a knowing smirk. ‘I think she prefers her men with a bit of military style.’

  Taliesin snorted into his soup.

  ‘Brother Frontalis, if you had seen Dan in his Bear Sark days you would put a tighter rein on that tongue. Help me up! I’ll not ride in a wagon like a pregnant woman, nor will I wait for tomorrow. I’m Combrogi, not a bloody Roman!’

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Ursula ached in every bone and muscle of her body by the time they rode into the fortified camp. It was an impressive site. Deep trenches had been dug to enclose the camp and each ditch was surmounted by a high turf embankment from which protruded an object of sharpened stakes, shaped like a Christmas star and designed to impale anyone who tried to leap the ditch for the comparative safety of the turf embankment. The embankment itself was patrolled by armed infantrymen. They were given hot food and directed to the site, which had been marked out for their tents. Ursula being of high status had a tent of her own near that of the main command. She was relieved not to have to sleep near the disturbing presence of Larcius or, indeed, any of the other men. Although she had lived in Macsen’s world for many months she found the lack of privacy that everyone took for granted very difficult to accept. The men even sat next to one another and chatted on the loo. It was a relief to be alone. She removed her boots which were damp and cold. They ought to have been rubbed with fat to preserve and soften the leather but she was too tired. Instead, she warmed her feet on a hearthstone she had begged from the containing wall round the fire. Her feet were so cold and numb that the warmth was almost painful. When at last her feet were warm she slept, almost at once – the deep sleep of the physically exhausted, without fears or dreams. She was not sure her body could survive two more days of such heavy riding; the novelty had worn off and she wanted to go home.

  Dan arrived at the camp several cold, wet, hours later. He too had been forcibly reminded of the discomforts and privations of this world. He also wanted to go home. Taliesin had managed to ride for about half the journey until his weakness forced him to hitch a ride on one of the wagons containing supplies. Brother Frontalis, who was built like an ox, had difficulty finding a horse that could manage his weight and so he joined Taliesin in the wagon from time to time under the pretext of resting his mount. Bryn rode stoically at Dan’s side; his endurance and good humour only increased the respect Dan had for him. Dan had always thought that he’d had a difficult time. His mother had died when he was fourteen and his father spent too much of his time and their money at the pub, but Dan’s difficulties were minor compared to Bryn’s. Dan had known that he was the sole survivor of his tribe. Dan himself had seen the corpses of Bryn’s sister and father. What Dan had not known was that Bryn’s four elder brothers had all died in conflicts with the Ravens and that his mother had died in childbirth, bearing him. Dan’s own shame at abandoning him in the Roman fortress increased. It must have been hard for Bryn to understand the difference between the Ravens who had wiped out his tribe and the Romans with whom Dan was allied. Dan was not sure he understood it himself.

  The next two days passed in much the same way as the first. Dan talked a lot to both Taliesin and Brother Frontalis about the various techniques of mental and spiritual discipline they knew of or had heard about. Dan was determined to find a way to deal with what he now regarded as an affliction. Sometimes the troops sang marching songs and war songs and even fragments of the great songs to pass the time. Dan stayed with the rearguard and did not try to contact Ursula: the news that Taliesin was restored was common knowledge and he did not want any further disagreements about his decision not to fight. He was not yet strong enough to deal with her disappointment.

  Ursula talked to Cynfach and Larcius by turns. She found Larcius much the easier company; he joked and told her humorous tales of his travels, whereas Cynfach kept trying to teach her about Roman military tactics. For the first time she began to relax in Larcius’s company and even to enjoy the disturbing effect he had on her body. Perhaps if they began again as friends then gradually he might find that she was not second best at all? Larcius even dropped his ridiculously complicated way of talking and even Cynfach laughed a couple of times at the account of his exploits overseas.

  They arrived at the fortress at dusk on the third day. It was some way from the Roman town of Aquae Sulis more commonly known as Caer-Baddon and some distance from the road, so that they had to ride across fields worn to mud by the feet and hooves of the vanguard. The fortress was not what Ursula had been expecting, lacking the grandeur of Macsen’s cliff-top fortress at Craigwen. It was merely a flat-topped hill surrounded by three perilous escarpments, and a gentler slope surrounded by a series of ditches. It was surmounted by timber ramparts, which enclosed the whole of the top of the hill. Nonetheless it was an awkward climb to the top even using the easiest route. The only entrance to the fort, a stout and narrow gate, was situated at the top of the most difficult slope. They had to walk the horses in single file to this gate and it was very fortunate that no horse was injured in the process. The land was boggy and treacherous and the conditions at the summit were not much better. There was a large, timber, feasting hall, though it had not been occupied for many years. The blazing fire and cooking smells that greeted the Sarmatians could barely disguise the damp, mouldy smell of disuse that permeated the building. It was a defensible site, but quite why anyone would want to defend it was rather beyond Ursula. There was dry straw for the horses and makeshift stables had been hastily erected from the remains of several smaller buildings. Ursula hoped that there were no high winds expected – they looked less than substantial. Tents had also been arranged in the same formation as at the camp to provide shelter for the light cavalry, the infantry and the servants who helped feed the men and horses. Conditions were crowded, and seeing the state of the place, Ursula’s mood plummeted along with her hopes of getting a bath. She would be lucky to find somewhere dry to sleep; the ground was a quagmire. She gave the care of her horse over to one of Arturus’s civilian grooms, fully aware that the Sarmatians never allowed any one other than themselves to tend to their horses. She did not think they would think badly of her: they did not appear to believe her bound by the same rules as everyone else. Braveheart followed her into the hall where long tables had been set up and where the light cavalry and infantry were already eating. She called and waved to the many familiar faces of the men she had come to know in Camulodunum but was more concerned with working out how to get her share of the stew. Eventually, a servant brought her a generous portion. The baggage train arrived just as she was finishing eating. She ate standing up as close to the fire as she could decently get. She was too sore from the long ride to even consider sitting down. Arturus was nowhere to be seen. A horn blew and men disappeared to help unload the wagons of the supplies, which had to be carried up to the summit. The supplies included not just food but a variety of weapons, a large supply of boulders, numerous heavy barrels and a great wooden machine that had to be pulled up the slope on rollers using thirty of Arturus’s strongest men. She was told, with pride, that it was the last Roman ballista in working order in Britannia. She did not know what that meant. Ursula was also surprised to discover that the wagons were not to be fully unloaded but that some supplies of weapons and grain were to be taken on to Caer-Baddon itself, which was to be occupied by Arturus’s forces from Fort Cado. Ursula found this confusing. She was not at all sure that she had understood Arturus’s plan.

  ‘Ursula!’

  ‘Dan, I didn’t know you were
here. How is Taliesin?’

  Braveheart leapt on his master and enthusiastically washed his face with his tongue, nuzzling him so energetically that he struggled to stay on his feet. When Braveheart had calmed down, Ursula gave Dan the remains of her stew, as the efficient feeding system that had prevailed at camp seemed to have broken down.

  ‘Thanks, I’m starving. Taliesin is fine. He’s with Brother Frontalis and Bryn. I came to look for you. How long have you been here?’

  ‘Not long. Why are we here? It’s a bit of a dump isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s not what I expected.’

  ‘How are you, you know, coping?’

  Ursula forced him into eye contact.

  ‘Really how are you?’ Ursula’s voice was insistent in his mind.

  ‘I’m coping better. I can sort of distance myself a little. Taliesin talked to me about it and so did Frontalis. I can still feel more than I want to but it isn’t swallowing me up like it once did. How are you?’

  ‘Confused. I’ve said I’ll fight for Arturus, but I don’t know why we’re here in this place. It feels like it was abandoned for years. Do you know what Arturus is planning? What are we doing here?’

  ‘I haven’t seen Arturus but Taliesin seems to understand him. According to Taliesin the Aenglisc want to gain a foothold in the west and are going to try to take Caer-Baddon. Arturus is hoping to lure Aesc and Aelle, the Aenglisc leaders, into trying to wipe out Arturus’s entire army here, before moving on to Caer-Baddon. Arturus believes that with the Sarmatians and the advantage of the fort we can wipe out the combined Aenglisc war bands.’

  ‘But won’t they realise that if Arturus wants them to attack him here it must be because he thinks he can win? Why should they fight where he wants to?’

  ‘Arturus thinks they will take the opportunity to take his forces out completely. Both of them will be prepared to bet everything on their own superiority. It’s a real showdown.’

  ‘And what if Arturus is wrong and they attack Caer-Baddon first?’

  ‘Apparently some of Arturus’s light cavalry from Fort Cado have moved there, but Taliesin was a bit vague about how many – around fifty I think.’

  ‘Fifty horsemen won’t save them!’

  ‘Arturus has been fighting the Aenglisc for ten years – he is sure Aelle will come here first – but he could move us to Caer-Baddon easily if he’s wrong.’

  ‘Where are the Aenglisc now?’ Ursula still sounded and felt unconvinced by Arturus’s grand plan. It struck her as far too risky and she wasn’t sure she would put all her eggs in one rotten basket like this fort.

  ‘That’s what Taliesin and I hope to find out as soon as he is rested.’

  ‘You’re going to try and help him be a merlin again aren’t you?’

  Dan nodded.

  ‘It’s really dangerous.’

  ‘So is war, Ursula. I’ve not lost my bottle you know, just my taste for killing.’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘You thought it.’

  ‘Kindly stay out of my head, Dan. As it happens I didn’t think you were a coward – you’re not. I was worried about you. I was afraid you’d lost it – not your courage, more your sanity. You were very odd back in Camulodunum.’

  Their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Cynfach.

  ‘I’ve a message for you, Ursa, the High King wishes to see you in his tent and you too, Gawain. You can leave the dog with me – he got used to me on the ride.’

  Dan glanced at Ursula. She had gone quite pale.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Can’t you feel it?’

  ‘What? No!’

  ‘It’s Rhonwen – she’s using magic, a lot of magic. She’s very close. Dan, I think I’m going to be sick.’

  Dan helped her to the door where she fulfilled her promise and was violently ill.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Dan.’

  ‘Don’t worry – I’m not going to clean it up – I doubt if anyone else will in this place. The latrines stink already. Are you all right?’

  He knew she wasn’t. He could sense her inner keening for the power she once had, and something else – fear.

  ‘What are you afraid of, Ursula? I don’t understand.’

  ‘She’s trying to call to me, to pull me to her somehow. I can feel her dragging at me. I don’t know what she wants but it can’t be good. I bested her last time we met, Dan, and she didn’t like it. She knows I’m here – you can bet she knows Arturus is too.’

  ‘That’s all right. It was no secret.’

  ‘She wants me dead, Dan. I’ve no magic left but I know she is trying something that will kill me.’

  Dan grabbed her hand, which was trembling as Ursula’s hand did not normally tremble.

  ‘I won’t let her hurt you, Ursula. I promise. Come on, let’s go and find Taliesin.’

  Ursula grasped his hand as if it was a weapon against fear and silently followed him to Taliesin’s tent.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  It was rapidly getting dark. Soon the only light would come from the flames of the braziers, which marked each row of tents and from the torches fixed at intervals along the fortress wall. Ursula thought the whole camp a fire hazard. She would have liked to wash her face and wash the acrid taste of vomit from her mouth but water was in short supply. They did not know how long they would have to remain in the fortress where the only source of water was one deep well and a number of barrels brought from Camulodunum along with the ale and other foodstuffs. The flickering flames made dark, bulky shadows of armoured men. Order was gradually emerging from the chaos of their arrival. Everyone was again in their right places and the watch was set. Guards patrolled the walkways above the wooden battlements, protected by its wooden palisade. There was little noise, only the whisperings and rustlings of nearly one thousand exhausted men and horses settling to their rest, the regular footfalls of the watch, and the crackling flames of the braziers. It was difficult to talk except in murmurs.

  To Ursula’s surprise, Arturus was talking with Taliesin when they arrived. He had removed his armour and was dressed in the ordinary homespun tunic favoured by most of the civilians Ursula had seen. He got to his feet when she and Dan ducked into the low tent.

  ‘Please join us,’ said Arturus courteously.

  Taliesin gave Ursula a hard, appraising look. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Rhonwen!’ As she said the name, Ursula felt her gorge rise and she was very afraid she was going to be sick again.

  Taliesin looked questioningly at Dan.

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t sense anything, but Ursula always was affected by Rhonwen.’

  Dan spoke calmly, working hard to ignore the emotions he could feel battering against his awareness, demanding to be acknowledged and shared. Arturus was awash with nervous excitement, Taliesin with weariness and trepidation, but it was Ursula’s feelings that were the most disturbing. She was afraid, with a visceral fear that twisted at Dan’s own guts and made his stomach churn.

  ‘Well, try harder to sense something, you’re the one with all the empathy,’ Taliesin said testily.

  Arturus intervened smoothly.

  ‘I’m sorry to ask you to do something that might be painful to you, Gawain, but I believe you could help us. We know that Rhonwen is Aelle’s Begrunen, his wise woman. He does what she advises. We need to know what she is up to. I know she is a witch and uses the Devil’s power to deceive. Our men need to be prepared if she has anything planned, particularly if it is aimed at Lady Ursa, who the men revere.’

  Dan looked at Ursula, doubtfully. She was looking at him pleadingly.

  ‘I don’t know what Taliesin wants me to do. I think he wants me to fish about in your thoughts to try to feel what you feel – at least we might be able to find Rhonwen that way. Do you mind?’

  There was a pause before Ursula answered, but Dan knew that she shrank away from such an intimate invasion of herself as much as she did from Rhonwen’s unspecific malevolen
ce.

  ‘Can you do that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Taliesin seems to think I can.’

  ‘I don’t know, Dan. This mind talk is all right because you hear only what I want you to – don’t you?’

  Dan nodded, which mystified Taliesin and Arturus who were watching the two silent Combrogi heroes expectantly.

  ‘I don’t think I want you to hear more than that. I suppose I have to let you, but I’m scared.’

  ‘Me too.’

  Dan reached out to hold Ursula’s large hand. Her palm was sticky with sweat, in spite of the coolness of the evening. She did not withdraw.

  ‘Here goes then.’

  Dan closed his eyes and Ursula gripped his hand with almost painful force. As he tried to feel what Ursula was feeling the pressure on his hand eased. That was a relief, she’d been crushing his bones. Then he realised why the pressure had eased – he was feeling his own hand holding Ursula’s! It felt cooler. He perceived that it made him/Ursula feel calmer. At the same instant he perceived something else, something fearful, something bad that made his thoughts skitter in panicked confusion. Something was hunting him/Ursula, a malevolent presence. Dan could feel it waiting for him/her, like the memory of a nightmare. He was swallowed up by this feeling and was also peripherally aware that there was a kind of confusion of consciousness – that things were not usually this way. Dan no longer existed. Dan did not feel uniquely Dan feelings nor Ursula feelings. There was a losing of himself in Ursula-ness, a drowning in the mental flow of Ursula, her stream of consciousness. Somehow, at some instinctive level, without a question ever being raised, a decision was made to pursue the nightmare to its source. The Dan/Ursula awareness was very afraid, but there was no other choice. They were blind and deaf hurtling towards the source of the nightmare, feeling the mental chill of another hostile mind, yet having no senses with which to perceive.

  ‘Bird! Be a bird!’ a part of them shrieked silently into the emotional maelstrom.