Arthur

'Artos,' said Cai calmly, 'how do you propose to meet them? It is seventy against three hundred.'

'I admit the fight is not even,' Arthur's grin was lopsided and reckless, 'but Morcant will just have to survive as best he can.' He turned to me. 'Pelleas, fetch Bedwyr and Myrddin. We will gather in my chambers.'

'At once, lord.'

He and Cai strode off across the yard as the hunting horn sounded the alarm. I found Merlin and Bedwyr together at one of the granaries, examining our dwindling supply of barley.

'Hail, Pelleas,' called Bedwyr as I dashed towards them. He saw my face and his smile of welcome faded. 'What is it? What is wrong?'

'Morcant is riding against us. He is on his way here now with three hundred.'

'We cannot meet them,' observed Bedwyr. 'There are just too many. Even with Meurig's warband, they would still outman us three to one.'

'Where are they?' Merlin asked. His tone showed no surprise or concern.

'They have crossed the Ebbw river at the coast to take us from the south.'

'Yes,' mused Merlin, 'that is what I would do.'

'There is no time to ride to Caer Myrddin anyway.'

'We are to meet Arthur in his chambers at once,' I told them.

Arthur and Cai sat over the long board in Arthur's chambers, at one end of the hall. 'It is not possible,' Cai was saying as we entered, 'and even if it were, the risk is terrible.'

Arthur smiled and reached across the board to ruffle Cai's red curls. Trust Cai to count the risk.'

'God's honour! That is the truth. I do heed the risk. Someone must.' Cai folded his arms across his chest, glowering out from beneath his copper-coloured brows.

'What impossible thing is he proposing this time?" Bedwyr laughed as he sat down on the bench. I settled beside him; Merlin remained standing.

Cai, a pained expression pinching his ruddy features, put up his hands. 'Do not ask me to repeat it. I will not.'

Arthur gazed placidly at Cai and then shrugged. 'Perhaps he is right – it cannot be done.' He turned to Bedwyr and Merlin. 'Well, wise advisers? Advise me wisely, or Morcant will.'

We all looked at one another, silently calculating our chances of surviving this day.

'Well,' said Merlin after a moment, 'perhaps it is a day for impossible feats. Who knows?'

'It seems we have no other choice,' muttered Cai.

'Are we to know this impossible plan of yours?' demanded Bedwyr. 'Speak it out.'

'I was only thinking,' began Arthur slowly, 'you know how these hills catch the echoes… '

The sun stood directly overhead and there was'still no sign of Morcant's war host. Scouts had been dispatched and had returned with confirmation that indeed a force of three hundred or more were approaching along the coast. They had crossed the Ebbw and were making for Glyn Rominw – the vale of the Rominw river.

The deep glen circled Caer Melyn, describing a half-moon arc to the east before curving away to meet Mor Hafren just to the south. Any attacking army would find it a natural roadway straight into the heart of Arthur's realm.

The young Duke knew the vale for what it was, and knew his enemies would regard it a weakness. But part of Arthur's genius lay in his remarkable ability to read the land.

He had only to see a place once to know it – each hill and hollow, every freshet and stream, every dingle and dell, rock cliff and standing stone. He knew where it was safe to ford, where the ground cover was thickest, where the hidden trails met and where they led. He knew all the ancient tracks and ridgeways, where men might safely ride without being seen, how the fields of the various realms were laid, which height would afford protection, which lowland a hiding-place, where natural defences could be found, where the land favoured attack, or retreat, or ambush…

All these things and more Arthur could read in the fold and crease of the earth. The land spoke to him, readily revealing its secrets to his quick eyes.

This is how I came to be squatting on a hillside overlooking a ford on the Rominw, holding a blackthorn bush before me, surrounded by a company of warriors, each similarly hidden. Across the glen, Cai, with another company, lay hidden behind a low, grassy rise. And to the north another company; to the south another, and so on all along the vale.

Tune passed. I sat watching cloud shadows on the hillside opposite me or gazing south along the curving length of the river, listening for the sound of the approaching warband and wondering what detained them – thinking that perhaps they had not chosen Glyn Rominw after all.

The wind had shifted to the north, making the sound of Morcant's approach more difficult to hear – if indeed he had entered the vale. What was taking the old lion so long?

Perhaps he had continued on along the coast to come at us out of the west. Perhaps he had forded the Rominw and crossed back to the east to come inland along one of the smaller streams. Perhaps he had – the thought never finished itself, for at that moment I heard it: the quick, rolling drum of horses hooves upon the earth.

I craned my neck to the south and peered through the branches of my blackthorn bush. A moment later I saw them, Morcant's forces moving through the glen. They came on in a loose pack; there were no orderly ranks, no coherent divisions of any sort. They spread across the valley floor in a ragged swarm. More a mob than a force of disciplined men.

That was the pith of it! So arrogant was Morcant, so smug and self-assured, so confident in his superior numbers, he made no attempt at order in his ranks. He meant to overwhelm Arthur's warband – like a wave on the shore, to simply wash over us and crush us with its all-engulfing weight.

I watched the unruly throng stream into the valley below, and anger leapt up, a hot red flame within me. Fool! Morcant esteemed Arthur not at all. So lacking in respect he did not even deem it wisdom to order his ranks. Oh, the insolence was blinding, the pride deafening.

I saw it all and did not care that we were only seventy against three hundred. Blessed Jesu, if we die today, let it be as true warriors with honour.

The first foemen had reached the ford. Some splashed through the stream, others stopped to drink – the ignorant louts. Careless and stupid in their arrogance. My anger burned more fiercely in me.

As soon as the main body of the warband reached the opposite bank, a mighty shout went up, an all-encompassing shout, a shout to shake the roots of the world. 'ALLELUIA!'

I looked and saw Merlin standing alone on the hilltop, arms raised over his head, his cloak loose and blowing. At the very same instant there came an answer from across the glen. 'A-1-l-e-l-u-i-a!'

The echoes rang. 'Alleluia!… Alleluia!'

I joined in the gladdening cry, and the warriors with me on die hillside shouted too. 'Alleluia!'

The shouts were coming from all along the glen now, the echoes pealing like bells, ringing on and on. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

The effect was immediate and dramatic. At that first enormous shout, the enemy had halted. The cries of alleluia assailed them from every side. They scanned the hillside for the foe, but saw no one. Now the echoes encircled them, pelting down upon them… Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Morcant's host scattered. The main body drove back across the stream into those still straggling behind. Seeing the ford hopelessly blocked, others turned to the hills. A group of twenty broke off, riding straight towards us.

We let them come. Nearer… nearer…

With a mighty shout we threw off the blackthorn branches that hid us. 'Alleluia!'

Up we leapt, sword in hand, striking, pulling the startled riders from their saddles. We struck them to the ground and sent their terrified horses back down the hill into the confused host. I looked across the glen. The same thing was happening on the opposite hillside, as astonished warriors disappeared behind the grassy rise where Cai's men waited.