Pendragon

'We are going to rally the kings,' Gwenhwyvar said. 'We ride first to Conaire at Rath Mor.'

'May God go with you, my friends,' Ciaran said. Raising his hands, he blessed us with a prayer as we continued quickly on our way.

The stronghold of Conaire Crobh Rua, or Red Hand, was much the same as that of Fergus, only larger, and a great ogam-carved pillar stone stood at the entrance to the caer. His warband was accordingly larger, too, boasting five warriors to every one of Fergus' men, and no fewer than four tributary kings supported him as well. Each of these small kings maintained warriors at his own expense which Conaire could command at need.

He would be a powerful ally. Consequently, winning him was crucial to Ierne's survival.

Gwenhwyvar understood this necessity and the terrible urgency of raising a host swiftly. Upon reaching Rath Mor and finding the gate open, she rode into the caer, ignoring the shouts of the lax gatemen to stop and be recognized.

She rode straight to the hall and shouted, 'Conaire! Come out, Conaire! We must talk, you and I.'

The people heard and began hastening to us. The door to the hall was a simple white ox hide with a hand painted on it in red. The head of a man appeared from behind the skin and declared, 'The king is deaf to all demands but his own.'

'Just you tell your deaf king that he is a fool to sleep within his hall while his realm suffers invasion,' she snapped, her dark brows lowered. The head promptly disappeared. 'Did you hear that, Conaire?' she shouted.

A moment later the ox hide was thrown aside and a tall man with fair hair and a red-brown beard stalked out. A fine, handsome man, he folded his bare arms across his chest. 'Ah, Gwenhwyvar,' he said upon seeing her, 'I should have known it was you making all this tumult.' He glanced quickly at those of us accompanying the queen. 'I thought you were in Ynys Prydein. Is it to marry me that you have come here?'

Gwenhwyvar favoured him with a disdainful smile. 'Conaire Crobh Rua, I will never marry you. The man you see beside me is my husband -'

'Then you can say nothing I care to hear.' The Uladh king started back to his hall.

'My husband,' Gwenhwyvar continued, 'Arthur, High King of the Britons.'

Conaire stopped and turned. 'Indeed?' He looked Arthur up and down, and then, as if deciding he had seen nothing worth troubling himself over, dismissed Arthur with a sneer. 'I did not know the Britons had got themselves another new king,' he said. 'Now that I see him, I wonder why they bothered.'

Arthur regarded the Irish lord coolly, but without rancour. He said nothing. Gwenhwyvar, however, stiffened in the saddle; her face flushed red with anger. Yet it was the silent Llenlleawg who answered Conaire's insult.

'Your ignorance is exceeded only by your arrogance, Conaire,' he said. 'This night you must decide whether you will live or die.'

The Irish lord glared lethally at Llenlleawg. 'It seems,' he said, his voice tight with loathing, 'that I will not be alone in making that decision.'

'It will not be Llenlleawg's spear that steals the breath from your body,' Gwenhwyvar said. 'While we stand here bartering insults, the enemy invader claims our land. We have one night to make good our defence, or our realm is surely lost.'

Conaire's eyes swung slowly from Llenlleawg to Gwenhwyvar. 'What invader?' he demanded dully.

'They are of a tribe called Vandali,' Gwenhwyvar told him. 'And they have come in force to plunder Ierne.'

The Irish king drew himself full height. 'This danger can be but small, or I would have heard of it. Still, I am not surprised that Fergus has sent you to plead for him – the least sign of trouble and he comes begging my protection. Tell him I will consider the matter, and reply when it suits me.'

He made to dismiss us and turn away.

'Stay!' I roared. Holding him with the bardic voice of command, I said: 'Hear me, Lord Conaire. I have known many kings: some have been fools, and others haughty. But few have been both and outlived their imprudence.'

The proud king bristled at this. His eyes flashed quick anger. But I did not give him opportunity to speak.

'Know this: We have come here to warn you and seek your aid. You know nothing of the force arrayed against us. I tell you the truth, unless we stand together when the battle begins, not one of us will survive the onslaught.'

Conaire frowned. He fairly squirmed under my authority, but I held him with my voice. 'This is the way of it. If you doubt me, why not ride with us to the coast and see for yourself that what you have heard is no mere fancy of the fainthearted?'

The Irish lord glared murderously at me, but kept his mouth firmly shut.

'Well?' asked Gwenhwyvar. 'What say you, Conaire?'

He turned to one of those who stood looking on. 'Bring my horse,' he barked angrily. To Gwenhwyvar he said, 'I will ride with you, and see for myself. If it is as you say, I will protect you.' He allowed himself a sly, sneering smile. 'But if it is otherwise, you must deliver to me the thing that I shall demand of you.'

Conaire stared at Gwenhwyvar as he said this, and it was not difficult to guess what was in his mind as he spoke. Arthur's face darkened at the mindless provocation. Nor did I fault him. Had I been Arthur, I would have split him crown to crotch at a single stroke. But Gwenhwyvar intervened. 'Make no demands you would not wish yourself to fulfil, Conaire.'

Without a word, Conaire turned on his heel and disappeared into the hall. Gwenhwyvar allowed herself a self-satisfied smile. 'Well,' she said, 'that was better than I hoped.'

'Is this Red Hand always so agreeable?' Arthur asked.

Gwenhwyvar answered, 'It was ever in his mind to have me for his wife. He has a wife, of course, and two cumal-wives also. But he contrives to make himself a king after the manner of Rory and Conor mac Nessa. That is why he has ever sought me to agree to marry him.'

'If his courage is half as great as his vanity,' Arthur remarked, 'then the black-sailed Vandali will soon be fleeing back over the waves as fast as the wind can carry them.'

'When the time comes for spear-play, you will not be disappointed,' Llenlleawg suggested. 'A bard with a harp does not make sweeter music.'

'This I want to see,' replied Arthur.

Conaire reappeared and, his horse having been brought, he mounted at once and led us out from the caer and along a well-worn trail through a wood. We came eventually to a low, treeless rise giving way to a series of downward-sloping ridges which ended in sharp cliffs overlooking the northwestern coast. Even before reaching the cliffside we could see the thick-sown black sails close-clustered on the sea. Many ships had already made landfall, and more were coming in with every wave; but we saw no one on shore, and no sign of horses aboard any of the boats.

'Forty ships,' observed Bedwyr. 'No more have joined them. That means they have all arrived.'

'Unless this is merely the advance force sent to spy out the land,' Cai pointed out. Both men lapsed into silence at that unsettling thought.

The Irish king stared at the spectacle before him for a long time. 'Never have I seen such an audacious invader,' he said at last. 'Such insolence incurs a heavy debt, and I mean to collect my share.'

'Well said, Conaire,' Arthur told him. 'Together, we will drive these barbarians into the sea.'

Conaire, the westering light in his eyes, turned to Arthur and looked him full in the face. 'Lord, I am a man of impulse and quick temper, as you have seen,' he said. 'I spoke without due consideration and my words were not worthy. And now I am sorry. For I think you are a very king among your kind, and it is not meet for two such noble allies to enter battle with malice between them.'

'I agree,' replied Arthur nicely. 'I think it will be toil enough to fight the Vandal horde without also bearing a heavy dislike for one another.'

So saying, the High King of Britain held out his arm to the Irish king. Conaire clasped his arm and the two embraced like kinsmen, animosity forgotten.