by N. M. Browne
Dan said nothing. It was hard to equate this large, softly spoken man with the passionate child Bryn had been.
‘I’m sorry too, Bryn. I thought Dan would die if we stayed at Baddon, but we should never have left you behind. It was wrong.’ Ursula blurted the words out in a tumble of remorse.
Bryn gave Ursula a long appraising glance. It made her deeply uncomfortable.
‘Is this how you looked after the battle?’ he asked abruptly, for no particular reason that she could see.
She wiped a dusty, weary hand across her already filthy face.
‘I still ache from that battle, Bryn. I am stained with the blood of men who, to me, died only hours ago at Baddon.’
His expression was difficult to read.
‘You were courageous.’
It was not a question, more an unequivocal statement, said without praise.
‘I would have died but for Cynfach. I can’t believe he is dead.’
Bryn nodded. ‘Will you release my men?’
‘Of course. They tried to take us prisoner. We wouldn’t have fought them otherwise.’
‘They’re not the brightest,’ Bryn said calmly. ‘Will you come with me to my Lord?’
‘Arturus?’
Bryn shook his head. ‘I have served Larcius for more than twenty years. You are not far from his seat at Caer-Baddon.’
Ursula felt a momentary panic at the thought of seeing Larcius. She had not seen much of him since their march from Camulodunum. She was more aware than ever of her disreputable state.
‘I would like to wash and clean up my armour before I have to meet anyone,’ she began, but Bryn forestalled her.
‘It would do some people good to be reminded of who actually fought the Battle of Baddon Hill. It has brought us twenty years of peace, but the people who have gained most did not pay the price,’ he said cryptically.
Ursula was too much in awe of this man who had once been Bryn to question what he meant.
Once his men were untied, Bryn made them walk behind the horses on the journey to Caer-Baddon. Ursula had dreaded the silence she expected between them but Bryn chatted easily about that and other matters: how Arturus had tried to restore Camulodunum to its former glory and reintroduce the rule of Roman law into the country; how he had given land and property to the church to set up schools for the education of the sons of kings and others; how Bryn himself had managed to overcome his fear of literacy and learned to write and read a little, much to Taliesin’s disgust. Taliesin, it seemed, still believed writing damaged the mind. Neither Ursula nor Dan spoke much, other than to ask the odd question. They were not home nor were they any nearer to getting home. There was no magic. There was no respite from Dan’s empathy. They had gained nothing in entering the Veil and lost something Ursula had not known was precious – the belief that they had acted from the right motives, the assurance that they had done their best. She had killed because she had believed it was what she had to do, but she had also betrayed someone who had trusted her. There was no way of making up for that, for all that they had done to Bryn, and they all knew it.
Chapter Thirty-one
The road was largely empty but for a few wagons loaded with foodstuffs. There were distinct signs of smoke from hamlets and sometimes, far from the road, a cluster of thatched structures which must have been Combrogi villages. Fields were well tended and the road was largely free of weeds but there were still guards at the Gate to Caer-Baddon, guards who regarded Ursula’s bloodstained finery with frank suspicion.
Caer-Baddon still retained much of its Roman splendour though, as in Camulodunum, new and altogether cruder houses replaced many of the original stone buildings. There were market stalls and more permanent shops selling fruit, eggs, strong cheese, and souring milk in wooden pails. Butchered meat hung from hooks surrounded by a mass of plump bluebottles, and fish rotted rankly in the heat. There were stalls selling woven fabrics, leather goods and horse tack, iron goods and even copper jewellery and beads – evidence of a way of life Ursula had never seen, a way of life that was not wholly taken up with the business of war. The warm, wholesome smell of baking bread reminded her that she had eaten little for the last few days as rations had been carefully regulated during the siege of Baddon, and the stench of the Aenglisc sickness had in any case put her off her food. She felt too guilty to ask anything of Bryn.
Passers-by gave Ursula and the war dog wide berth. The taint of death seemed to follow her in a cloud of flies and she rather suspected she had picked up fleas because she itched desperately under her many layers of protective padding. She longed to bathe, but Bryn rode past the still intact Roman Bathhouse, which smelled even from outside of scented oils and clean steam.
Larcius’s home was not what she had expected – a plain stone building which had been re-roofed with thatch. It looked incongruous among the finer buildings, a Combrogi chieftain’s hall in an ancient Roman setting. Even Ursula, who was not politically astute, recognised such a blatant political gesture that served to differentiate him so clearly from Arturus.
Bryn dismounted and handed his reins to servants who had emerged at their approach. Having used their horses’ reins to tie up their prisoners, Ursula and Dan merely dismounted and with Braveheart followed Bryn into the main hall.
‘Ah Bryn,’ a man’s voice spoke in familiar tones and Ursula felt suddenly sick with apprehension.
‘You are back later than I expected, and with guests. This is most unusual.’
As the corpulent figure strode towards them Ursula was able to watch the blood drain from his face as he saw her.
‘In God’s name it cannot be, Lady Ursa?’
Ursula’s own shock was scarcely any less. The years of good living had coarsened Larcius’s fine features into a parody of his former beauty. His eyes were still bright and piercingly blue, but sunk deeper into now puffy flesh. His aquiline nose had broadened, his once sensuous mouth had slackened into an altogether looser, wetter feature, while his once firm and chiselled chin might still have existed but only as one chin among many. He was old and fat and ugly.
‘Larcius!’
Ursula did not know what else to say.
Larcius stepped forward to embrace her, then noticed her bloodstained mail.
‘I don’t understand – how are you so – unchanged?’
Bryn saved her from that complex explanation.
‘The Lady Ursa disappeared through the Veil after the Battle at Baddon Hill. She emerged from the Veil earlier today.’
Larcius was staring at Ursula with a mixture of awe and revulsion. He paid little attention to Dan.
‘By your leave, Larcius, I would dearly love to wash away the stench and stains of battle,’ she began somewhat desperately.
‘Of course, forgive me. It has been so long, Ursa, since I have looked upon your beauty. You must be tired and hungry.’
He clapped his hands and servants escorted Dan and Ursula to the baths, provided them with clean, woollen garments, and brought them back to Larcius’s hall, where a fine meal awaited them. Bryn assured them that he would ensure that their valuable war gear was cleaned and returned to them. Dan had been loath to part with his sword even to enter the cleansing waters of the baths. He was mistrustful of everyone. He sent Ursula a warning as they sat down to eat.
‘Something is wrong, Ursula – his emotions are all muddy. He never thought to see either of us again. I don’t trust him.’
Larcius’s gaze was intense as he watched Ursula’s every small move.
‘You are more beautiful even than I remembered,’ he said more than once. His compliments gave her an uncomfortable feeling. She shared some of Dan’s unease.
‘It is fortunate that you arrived today, for tomorrow the High King pays us his annual visit on his way to his fortress at Cado. He will be very … surprised to see you after so many years.’
There was something in Larcius’s tone that startled her, something that sounded very like spite.
I
t was a strange meal. They ate with many of Larcius’s retinue in the main hall. Long, low tables were laden with a variety of strongly spiced meat and fish dishes, thick black bread, and fruit. It was awkward to eat without chairs or couches and Ursula was acutely self-conscious of her long legs in their wool leggings. Larcius could hardly keep his eyes off them and the lasciviousness she had found exciting in a young and handsome companion became something altogether more sinister and obscene in this bloated older man. Larcius had taken no wife and there were no women present at the table, other than the servants who waited on them and avoided Ursula’s eyes as deliberately as they avoided Larcius’s wandering hands.
It was Bryn who ended it all by suggesting quietly that the guests ought to be shown to their quarters. There were several Roman bedchambers off the main hall and Bryn explained that he had left their kit in one of them. Bryn gently took Dan to one side and in Ursula’s hearing said in a low voice, ‘You probably already know that Larcius is not to be trusted. He fears you. In many ways, he remains Arturus’s rival and he knows that Arturus will find a way to use you once he has got over his embarrassment at seeing the true heroes of Baddon return. Watch over Ursula. When Queen Gwynefa is safely in her husband’s bed … Larcius has a certain unsavoury reputation, though with any luck he will be too drunk to try anything.’
Ursula did not want to be excluded from the conversation. She spoke softly but forcefully. ‘What has happened to turn Larcius into that?’
Bryn looked saddened. ‘Larcius has been good to me and I would not deny him the honour I owe him for the many acts of kindness over the years. He is a weak man. He has wealth and power but Arturus is still High King and still married to Gwynefa. Larcius has never got over either fact.’
‘Larcius still loves Gwynefa?’
Bryn gave Ursula a world-weary look.
‘Gwynefa is different from you, Ursula. She was born to play the kinds of games—’ He looked uncomfortable but continued. ‘They are twin souls, Gwynefa and Larcius, they have corrupted each other.’
It was too dark to see, but Ursula had the distinct impression that Bryn was blushing.
‘It doesn’t matter. You are here again. In the morning I will resign my position.’
‘What do you mean?’ Dan spoke for the first time.
‘I hated you when you left me. When Rhonwen returned I expected you to follow, though Taliesin explained that even if you followed her immediately you might arrive hours, months, or even years later. I planned all the things I would say to you, all the things that have been in my heart all these years. Now you are here, I see what you are and through your eyes I have seen what Larcius has become and I am ashamed. You were my hero, Dan, but now I see you are barely out of childhood. Ursula, you are an innocent – I couldn’t even bring myself to explain to you that Gwynefa and Larcius have been lovers for more than twenty years. My vow on the road to Alavna cannot be expunged. Taliesin was right. I pledged you my soul when I was a child and you have it still.’
‘But Bryn – I ran away.’
‘You tried to go home. Now I have a son of my own I know what that means. You forget I knew about your sister – you told me more than you remember. I am Combrogi. I survived you going. I find that all the Latin speaking in the world cannot change what I am – a man born in a simpler time with simpler rules than Larcius’s complex deceits.’ He sounded bitter. ‘I promised Larcius my total loyalty only until you returned. He did not think you would ever come back. The oath I swore you was the strongest I could ever make. God was my witness, though I did not know it. I am bound to keep my oath to you.’ He was speaking now in the language of his childhood.
‘Oh Bryn, I don’t deserve such loyalty.’ Dan’s voice broke into a sob then and Bryn comforted him as he might have comforted his son. Ursula could not control her own tears. All the disappointments and the sorrow of the day and the horrible humiliation of the dinner with Larcius found a kind of release. Bryn’s strong hand found her shoulder.
‘My late wife could not bear to meet Larcius either. She hated the way he looked at her. There is no shame in that, Ursula. Cry it all out – it will all be better in the morning.’
With that, Bryn was gone.
It was not better in the morning, but by morning Ursula had made a decision. She dressed in her mailshirt and shook Dan awake. He started, guiltily. ‘Sorry, Ursula, I must have dozed off – why are you dressed like that?’
‘I can’t stay here, Dan – Larcius is, well you know what Larcius is and I’ve been thinking. Rhonwen is here, ahead of us – maybe I could persuade her somehow to reopen the Veil and if I could make her do that, I think I know how I could use it to get us home – I really think I could do it this time.’
‘Ursula, Rhonwen tried to destroy you with sorcery at Baddon.’ He knew by the stubborn set of Ursula’s mouth that she was not listening. ‘OK – maybe she won’t try again but what if Taliesin has had enough time to build up some more power and found a way to raise the Veil? If he had d’you think he’d still be here?’
Ursula scowled. ‘I don’t know, Dan, but if we stay here I’ll have to fight again – people will depend on us, we’ll get sucked into it again, be dragged into whatever stupid war is coming and you were right, before, when you decided not to fight, it’s not what I want either.’
Dan saw the haunted look in her eyes and needed no special empathy to know that she was thinking of the men she’d killed so recently at Baddon. ‘Bryn said there was peace.’
‘Do you believe that?’
Dan shook his head. There was violence in the air, he could feel it, a growing tension with which he was too familiar. ‘No,’ he said slowly, ‘something’s not right – it doesn’t feel like peace.’
‘Dan, listen to me – we’re not needed here. We have to try to get home. We’ve done enough. Bryn said that Arturus had made people think he led the charge at Baddon, not me. Whatsisname who attacked us yesterday said Arturus called himself Ursus now. If he doesn’t even call himself Arturus anymore, just Ursus, he must be taking the prophecy for himself! Taliesin will have helped. All Taliesin wanted was a leader who might fulfil the prophecy. He’s got his Bear now, he doesn’t need us. Arturus does not need us – he has the reputation of a hero. Everyone who was at Baddon is dead or doesn’t care what really happened.’
Dan nodded thoughtfully, Ursula carried on.
‘How pleased do you think Arturus would be to see us?’ She looked at Dan, her face set and determined. ‘On the other hand, Rhonwen might be quite pleased to see the back of us by sending us home. We can’t help her enemies if we’re …’
‘Dead,’ added Dan helpfully. ‘You were the one who was so sure that we should get involved with fighting the Aenglisc; are you saying you’ve changed your mind?’ Dan kept his voice carefully neutral. He did not want to precipitate another row.
‘Yes, I don’t want to get involved again. I want to go home.’
Dan sighed, ‘I want to go too, but I don’t see how we can. Anyway, I think we’re already involved – maybe we came back now for a reason, because we are needed. Ursula, I think that if Arturus is our King Arthur, Larcius is Lancelot. Didn’t they fight because of Guinevere? I think you’re right – there is going to be a war and we’re part of it because somehow we’re still part of Arturus’s story.’
‘I think Arthur and Lancelot did fight, yes, and I’m not sure I care.’ She paused before adding, bitterly, ‘Arturus used me at Baddon, didn’t he?’
Dan had not wanted to tell Ursula how callously Arturus had been prepared to spend her life. He wondered how long she’d known.
‘Yes. I swear I didn’t know it until I saw what he’d done. He thought it was for the good of Britannia – or so he said.’ Dan did not know why he was defending Arturus but he found he was.
Ursula nodded, as if it no longer mattered, as if she had not nearly died for Arturus’s sake the day before. She sounded calm and unutterably weary when she replied, ‘He’s not a hero,
Dan, he’s a coward. I wish he was – you know – like he is in the legend, noble and a great leader and all that, but he’s not.’
‘He’s kept the Combrogi safe for twenty years,’ Dan pointed out reasonably.
‘Maybe, but he would have let me die!’
‘You’re right,’ said Dan, but it was as if the Veil had dampened down his anger, as if he had felt it twenty years ago, not just the day before. ‘But I think Arturus is still our King Arthur, and I don’t remember the story well, Ursula, but I think it all unravelled, the peace, the Combrogi, everything because of the rivalry between Lancelot and Arthur – maybe if we could warn him …?’
‘No, Dan – we can’t change history, and I don’t think we should try. We must try to get home.’
‘I want to go home, Ursula, you know I do, but I think we’re part of history like the sword from the stone thing – like your victorious charge at Baddon. You got the sword and won the battle and then that story got mixed up with Arturus.’
Ursula was stony faced, unimpressed by his theory. ‘Does that mean you won’t come with me to find Rhonwen?’
‘It means that I’m going to stay and meet Arturus.’
‘I can’t persuade you?’ Ursula asked, truculently.
‘No, but you could wait with me, and then we could go and find Rhonwen together.’
Ursula shook her head.
‘Just promise me one thing,’ Dan said and held her gaze for a moment, felt her fight her fury at him for not agreeing with her.
Ursula nodded, tersely.
‘Don’t go home without me.’
She nodded again and turned her head away from him so he couldn’t see how close she was to tears. He knew anyway.
‘Do you have a plan for finding her?’
‘I’ll ask Bryn where Taliesin is. He’ll know where Rhonwen is. She’s why he’s here.’
‘And if there was a way of persuading her to raise the Veil, don’t you think he’d have already tried it?’
Ursula looked at him in distress. ‘Please, Dan, don’t be sensible,’ she whispered. ‘I have to get away from here.’ She moved towards him awkwardly and kissed him briefly on the lips. It was such an unexpected, intimate, incomprehensible gesture Dan did not know how to respond.
