Arthur

'Weakness!' Idris cried. 'You blind bastard! I own no fault in this. Half my warband was cut down by those cursed stakes.'

Ceredig grumbled agreement, and Owain tactfully suggested, 'Our War Leader should have known better.'

'Did you know better?' I demanded hotly. 'Or you, Ceredig? Ogryvan? I did not hear your protests when Arthur laid die battle plan.'

'It is our fault, is it?' wailed Maglos, his voice thin and pathetic. They were hurting and did not know what they were saying, it is true, but it rankled me to have them blame Arthur.

'I cannot see it serves any purpose to accuse each other – ' began Custennin, his voice quickly drowned in the railings of the others.

Myrddin made to speak again, but Arthur laid his hand on the Emrys' arm. 'I am with you, my lords," he declared loudly, so as to be heard above them. 'I should have seen the traps sooner. I should have guessed. I own the fault. But we are in it now and must decide what is best to do. We are beaten where we stand if we fall to fighting among ourselves.'

'Hear him!' said Custennin and several others. Meurig added, 'Let us save our fury for the foeman.'

Tempers were brought to heel, and a sullen silence settled over the lords. The stewards came with cups and we were given cold water to drink. 'Now then,' began Arthur, draining his cup in a gulp, 'what did you want to say to us, Wise Emrys?'

‘The pit that snares the wolf, may also capture the hunter. And there are many, many traps in Celyddon,' Myrddin said.

'Spare us your riddles, Bard,' growled Idris.

'What the Emrys means,' explained Arthur, 'is that perhaps we can turn the traps to our advantage.'

'How?' demanded the surly kings. 'Our horses are no use to us in the wood. You can scarce swing a sword without tangling blade and arm in the branches.'

'You are right,' soothed Arthur. I looked and saw the light come up bright and fierce in his eyes. 'Listen, Baldulf thinks to use the forest against us; very well, we will take up the weapons of the forest: darkness and disguise, secrecy and stealth.'

I do not know how Arthur did this. Was it in his mind, waiting to be called forth at need? Did it come to him fresh from the Otherworld – like the awen of a bard? Or did he simply invent it as he spoke it out? As many times as I saw him do it, I cannot say. But when at need a plan of genius was required, genius we received.

As Arthur began to elaborate on his plan, all grumbling and vexation ceased. The kings crowded in closer to hear the scheme and their disappointment soon turned to delight.

Although our shadows stretched long on the meadow, we reformed the battlelines according to Arthur's orders and advanced once more into Celyddon – all except the troops under my command. For as soon as the first ranks reached the forest and the fighting began again, those with me broke to horses, mounted, crossed the ford, and began galloping west and south along the Etric glen.

There were a thousand with me under the younger battlechiefs: Idris, Maelgwn, Maglos. We followed the river a goodly way before finding the place Myrddin had described to us – a small dingle where the Etric met a smaller stream, one of countless thousands of burns that flowed out from the forest. This was our entrance.

Abandoning our horses, we took our spears and headed into Celyddon along the burn. We ran reckless through the undergrowth, now in and now out of the water. Our only thought was to reach the battle as quickly as possible. But the burn wandered in the wrong direction! We were moving away from the fray.

'Damn his eyes!' shouted Idris, 'That meddling bard has sent us the wrong way!'

I halted and whirled on him. 'Shut up, Idris! We see it through.'

The others caught us. 'I say we go back,' insisted the stubborn Idris.

Maglos stood undecided, though inclining more towards Idris than Myrddin. But Maelgwn spoke up, 'A blind bard is to be trusted above all else. Who else sees the world so clearly?' He planted the ash haft of his spear between his feet and would not be moved.

I glared at Idris, furious with him for halting our march and provoking the warriors to doubt. I could have run the spear through his arrogant heart. 'I said we will see it through, Idris. Follow me.'

I turned and continued on. Maelgwn followed without hesitation. Maglos and Idris remained stubbornly behind, but when the warriors began passing them, they came along.

The burn continued bending away from the battle site. I trusted the Emrys with my life, but as the sound of the clash diminished, doubt began to creep in. Perhaps Idris is right and Myrddin has misremembered, I thought. Celyddon is so vast; there are so many brooks and burns perhaps this is not the one he thought it was. Or perhaps we have come to another…

No, we must go on. There was no other way. The lives of our kinsmen depended on it. The battle depended on it. If we failed the battle was lost. I clenched my teeth and kept running.

And then, the sound of the battle faded away altogether. I strained after it, and heard only the drum of blood in my ears, and my own rasping breath. Please, God, I prayed, do not let us fail. I kept my eyes on the track ahead and ran, my feet pounding the soft earth even as my heart pounded in my chest. My mouth went dry and my lungs burned, but I swallowed the pain, lowered my head and ran on.

Then all at once we were running uphill and the burn became a straight and open pathway. The trees arched overhead and the water ran swift. Above the sound of rushing water came the faint din of the fight.

The sound grew to a mighty roar. By this I knew we were coming to the battle-place – but now we were behind it. Heaven bless your Most Excellent Bard, he has remembered aright!

There was a pool ahead which the barbarians had used for water, now dark in the failing light. Beyond the pool rose the central bulwark of the earth and timber mazework Baldulf had constructed to thwart us. I could see it through the trees, and I could see the swarming host upon it.

Around the mounded structure, like vast contorted limbs, lay the immense timbered walls of the mazework. It was as Arthur had suggested – the maze had a centre which, because it served to protect the other sections, would not be protected itself. The enemy had trusted the forest to prevent an assault from the unprotected side.

Before me the chaos of battle raged unrestrained. The British warriors struggled against the barriers, gained them, and were time and again turned back. Our Cymbrogi fought bravely. The battle din was a ground-trembling roar, the clash of shield on shield and sword on axe a steadily pounding drum. Fierce was the fight, dread the slaughter.

It was all I could do to keep from dashing in at once and attacking the unsuspecting enemy. But that was not the plan.

Instead, we knelt at the edge of the pool and kindled the brands we had brought with us. This stole precious moments from the fight. Father of Light, kindle your wrath against our enemies and let it burn as brightly as the torches in our hands.

At last, when every man held a flaming brand, up I stood and cried the charge. My shout was answered by a thousand throats and a thousand pairs of feet sprang forward as one.

The startled barbarians turned to see a blazing wall of fire rushing towards them. We fired their camp as we passed through. The flames leapt high and the smoke curled black and thick.

The barbarians quailed to see it. Our sudden appearance inspired alarm, and the blaze of our torches greatly magnified our numbers in their eyes. For in the fading light of the forest they thought themselves surrounded by a numberless fiery foe.

But they quickly gathered courage. Some abandoned their earthwork defence and raced to join battle with us. The charge was ill-timed and inept. It did nothing to halt us, or even divert our path. We drove straight to the timbered mound whereon Baldulf stood to direct the battle.