Arthur

'I am yours to command, Duke Arthur,' said Gwalcmai, placing himself under Arthur's authority. 'My ship is ready and waiting in the harbour.'

Then we leave at dawn.'

We had hoped to engage the enemy before they could achieve full strength of numbers. This was not to be. Upon reaching Caer Melyn, Arthur sent messengers to the British kings, summoning their warbands. His own Cymbrogi were ready at once, of course, and Arthur sent them on ahead with Cai, Pelleas and Meurig, riding overland and taking most of the horses with them. The warbands of the other kings were slow in coming.

God save them, they were angry with Arthur for making peace with Aelle, Octa and Colgrim, and thought to punish the Duke by withholding aid. Also, they were reluctant to commit warriors to the defence of the north. After all, it is just foul moors and heather bogs – let the Irish and Picti have it. This is what they thought.

In the end, however, they were forced to uphold then-pledge to Arthur as War Leader. So, four days before midsummer, we gathered at dawn on the strand at Abertaff near Caer Dydd, men and horses, weapons and supplies. Three kings came with us: Idris, Bedegran, and Maglos.

Old Bishop Gwythelyn, and his renowned pupil Teilo, led us in a special warriors' mass. From his nearby abbey the revered Illtyd came also to give his blessing. The holy men emboldened us with heartening words from the sacred texts, and commended us to the Lord Jesu. Then we all knelt there among the windswept dunes, the sound of the surf and gulls in our ears. We knelt, each and every one of us, and prayed to the Almighty God for swift sailing and swifter victory.

When the prayers were finished, we all rose up and sang a song of praise to the Saviour God. Ah, there is nothing finer than the voices of the Cymry lifted in song, I can tell you. We were three thousand strong. And that is a mighty voice before the Throne of Light.

Then, as the sun crested the far hills across Mor Hafren and the first red-beamed rays stretched across the water, we boarded the ships and set sail for the north. Forty-five ships in all – most of them Lot's, but Arthur had found a good few others. Not since the days of the Romans had such a fleet been seen in the Island of the Mighty. This, and the first of Arthur's ships had yet to be built!

Forty-five ships! Blessed Jesu, it was a sight to behold.

FIVE

We entered Yrewyn Bay at dusk and came ashore to make camp. The fires were kept low and we posted watchmen in the hills above the bay, lest a rearguard of Irish had been left behind. But the night passed quietly.

At dawn the next day we began the march inland to meet Cai and the Cymbrogi. We had arranged to come together at a place I knew: a ford where the River Glein joins the Yrewyn as it flows down from the mountains into the vale of Yrewyn.

There are no settlements in that region – the people were driven off long ago by the relentless raiding. We formed up in two long columns, after the Roman fashion. Arthur's ala – the mounted warriors – leading, foot soldiers coming after, and. the supply wagons following. Since we had come by ship, we had only four wagons with us, and only a hundred horses – fewer than we would have liked, to be sure. But, as we intended joining Cai in a day or so, we thought we could sustain ourselves at least that long.

It was not until we reached the Glein that we realized our mistake.

'There must be ten thousand down there,' I whispered. Arthur and I sat our horses on the ridge, gazing down into dusk thickening in the Yrewyn vale. We had ridden into the foothills to spy out the land below – and a good thing, too! The numbers of the enemy ranged around the ford appeared as a dark smear spreading along either side of the river. The smoke from their innumerable fires blackened the air. 'I have never seen so many Irish in one place. I did not think there were so many.' The cran tara had indeed gone out, and it had been answered in force.

They are not all Irish,' said Arthur, his eyes narrowed to the distance. 'Look – see how they form two camps, there and there?' He indicated the dark mass on the left. 'The fires are larger and ranged in a great circle. And there – ' he pointed to the other smudge, 'the fires are smaller and scattered; those are the Irish.'

'So who are the others? Saecsen?' Saecsens often built circular camps around a central fire.

'Angli,' answered Arthur.

'Angli- Saecsen? What is the difference? They are barbarians, are they not?'

'Oh yes,' agreed Arthur with a grim laugh, 'they are barbarians. But if they were Saecsen I would know that Aelle and Colgrim had broken the peace.'

'Cold comfort,' I remarked. 'What are we to do now, Bear? They are camped where we are to meet Cai in a day's time.'

'We will ride south a little way to meet him.'

'What are they doing down there?'

'Waiting.'

'I can see that. Why, Exalted Duke, are they waiting, do you suppose?'

Arthur gave his head a slight shake. 'I do not know, and that worries me.'

'Will you offer them peace?'

'Yes. Why fight for peace if it can be achieved without bloodshed?'

'That may be, Artos,' I agreed, 'and I truly pray that it is. But I do not think they are going to down weapons and sail away peacefully. They have come to fight, and I think they mean to have their way.'

'I fear you are right.' Arthur lifted his reins and turned his mount. 'Come, we will go tell Myrddin what we have seen.'

Our own camp was but two valleys to the east of the enemy encampment. Twilight had fallen and the valley was darkening, although the sky still held light in the west. Arthur rode in, calling for the kings to meet him in his tent, and for the cooking fires to be put out at once.

Myrddin met us outside Arthur's tent, and held our horses as we dismounted. 'Well, was it to your liking?'

'You did not tell us there would be so many,' said Arthur lightly. He might have been describing a herd of sheep he had happened to meet.

'How many?' asked Myrddin, cocking his head to one side.

'Ten thousand,' Arthur replied.

'So?' wondered the Emrys.

'I counted them myself,' I assured him. 'Every one.'

Myrddin shook his head slowly. 'It was not to begin this way. This is not how I saw it.'

'It does not matter,' said Arthur. 'This will be to our benefit.' Just then Idris ambled up, and Maglos behind him. 'We will hold council in my tent,' Arthur told them, 'when Bedegran has joined us.'

The two entered the tent and Arthur turned to Rhys, his harper and steward. 'Have food brought to us, and something to drink.'

Inside the tent, the lamps were already lit, casting their thin reddish glow over the rough board that had been set up to serve for his council table. Our cups were there, but empty yet. Idris and Maglos sat across from one another, leaning on their elbows.

'You have seen something, yes?' Idris asked, as I settled on the bench next to him.

'I have seen the vale of Yrewyn,' I told him. 'It is a sight worth seeing.'

He regarded me sceptically for a moment and then shrugged. 'Sooner ask a stone.' He turned away and began talking to Maglos.

I had come to like Idris – at least, I no longer disliked him as much as I once had. He had a good way with his men, whom he treated with all respect. It was unfortunate he had sided with Morcant and Cerdic in the beginning. But I sensed he was deeply sorry for this – which was why he had chosen to ride with us. He was trying to make amends for his lapse by fighting for Arthur every bit as hard as he had fought against him.

He was a strong man, though slender, and wore his hair and moustache long, like the Celts of old. And, although he had never set foot inside a church in his life, he had learned reading and writing from the brothers at the monastery at Eboracum.