Pendragon

At the very least they would resist. Worse, I feared, they would turn against him. And should worse come to worst, the fragile alliance would shatter; our hard-won peace would be but a memory, and the Kingdom of Summer would die in its infancy. It had long been all my care to aid that birth, and the last thing I desired was to see that long and arduous – and life-costly – work undone. Great Light, I would do anything, anything to prevent that.

I thought long and hard, and was drawn from my contemplation at last by the jangling clang of the alarm. Conaire, like the chieftains of old, had a strip of iron hung from a post outside his hall. When need arose, the iron was struck with a hammer and the people ran to answer the alarm.

Stirring myself, I rose and made my way to the hall among the scurrying Uladh folk. I saw Cai, with his distinctive hobbling gait, hurrying across the yard, and called to him. He joined me and we walked together to the assembly place.

Conaire stood with the hammer in his hands and a fierce look on his face. 'The enemy approaches!' he shouted, and began ordering the defence of Rath Mor.

'Where is Arthur?' Cai wondered, looking around the crowd.

'Asleep, I suppose. You'd best go wake him.' Cai hastened away. Warriors were already rushing to arm themselves and take up defensive positions on the wall.

Bedwyr and Llenlleawg appeared. 'What is happening?' Bedwyr yawned. 'Trouble?'

'We are being attacked,' I answered. 'Reprisal for last night's raid, no doubt.'

'Where is Arthur?'

'Cai has gone to rouse him.'

'Did he need rousing?' wondered Bedwyr.

My eyes flicked to his face, and then to where he was looking. I saw Arthur emerging from the round house, doing up his belt. And then I saw what Bedwyr had seen: Gwenhwyvar, face flushed, emerging behind him, her hair awry and her laces undone.

'Perhaps not,' I replied. 'It appears he was already well roused.'

Llenlleawg smiled, and Bedwyr observed, 'The barbarians will rue the day they called the Bear of Britain from his den.'

Arthur joined us and received word of the enemy advance calmly. 'How many?' he asked.

'Conaire did not say,' Bedwyr informed him.

Arthur gave a nod to Llenlleawg, who dashed away at once, and it came to me that Arthur had begun trusting more and more to the Irish champion. Not that he neglected Cai and Bedwyr, mind, but he now included Llenlleawg in his confidence. Where there had been but two, there were now three. I wondered where Gwenhwyvar would fit in this triumvirate.

Still, judging from what I had seen in the hut, Gwenhwyvar could speak for herself. I had no doubt she would make a place for herself precisely where she wanted it. She joined us now and took her place beside Arthur. 'How many?' she asked.

'I have sent Llenlleawg to determine,' Arthur replied. There was no trace of vexation or ire in either of them. Like a summer storm over Loch Erne, it had all blown over without a trace, leaving the sky brighter and the sun warmer than before the wind and rain.

Conaire summoned his bards and chieftains to attend him, and pushed his way into the hall. The Irish king was outraged that the Vandal horde should appear at his gates. 'They tracked us from the beach,' he shouted as we entered the hall. He threw an angry fist in Arthur's face, the previous night's euphoria forgotten in the new day's crisis. 'This would never have happened if you had not attacked them. Now they have come here for their revenge.'

Arthur bristled at the king's accusation. 'It was to be expected,' he replied coolly. 'Or did you think they would not march against you if you let them take your land?'

This reply made Conaire even angrier. 'This is your doing! I should have known better than to listen to a British tyrant. On my father's head, I will not allow myself to be beguiled again.'

'Conaire Red Hand!' It was Gwenhwyvar in full cry. 'It is a wicked thing you are doing. Stop it! You disgrace yourself and I will not hear it.'

Fergus joined his daughter. 'If not for Arthur, the enemy would have overwhelmed us before now. The Britons have faced barbarians before. I say we listen to them.' He turned to Arthur. 'Tell us what you would have us do.'

I believe Conaire felt some relief at having the decision taken from him. In his heart, he was secretly grateful to Arthur for his superior battle cunning. But, lest his bards and lords account this a weakness, he felt he must rant against Arthur. Thus, it was all bluff and bluster, and there was no real wrath in it.

Arthur did not wait to be asked again. 'I say we move against them at once. We must not allow them to establish themselves outside our walls, or we will be trapped inside.'

Conaire drew himself up. 'That is just what I was going to suggest myself. It is good to see that the British battlechief agrees with me.' He turned to his lords. 'We will assemble as before. Those of you who followed Arthur last night will do so again. The rest will follow me.'

He turned back, and regarded us with an imperious gaze. 'When you are ready, Britons,' he said, as if we were recalcitrant children. 'The enemy awaits.'

Gwenhwyvar regarded him with an angry stare. 'That swaggering butt of a man,' she said. 'Does he think he is Emperor of Rome to treat us this way?' She turned to her husband. 'We should leave him to the Vandali.'

'Truly,' replied Arthur, watching as the Irish lords noisily left the hall. When they had gone, we followed.

Out in the yard, the stablers and boys were saddling the horses, and warriors strapped on armour and swords while their kinsmen scurried about on desperate errands. Gwenhwyvar went to fetch her arms and ready herself for battle. Arthur stood at the door of the hall and looked on the tumult for a moment, then said, 'If we live to see the end of this day, Myrddin, I swear upon my sword that I will yet teach these Irish some order.'

The turmoil quickly abated, however, and we were soon ready. All that remained was for Llenlleawg to return with word of the strength and position of the enemy forces. We waited, growing anxious and apprehensive. 'Something has happened to him,' Cai grumbled, jabbing the end of his spear into the dirt.

'Not Llenlleawg,' Bedwyr replied. 'He is too slippery an eel to fall foul of any barbarian net.'

Still we waited. Cai was for going after Llenlleawg to discover for himself what had happened. Arthur advised against it. 'He knows the hiding places in the land. He will return when he can.'

'Oh, aye,' Cai agreed. 'Aye. I know. But I would feel better for knowing the enemy's strength and position.'

'So would I, Cai,' Bedwyr said, 'and trust Llencelyn to bring us word in time.'

Cai laughed aloud at Bedwyr's epithet, and Arthur chuckled.

'Llencelyn?' I asked. 'Why do you call him that?' It was a play on the Irish champion's name with the word for storm. I saw the humour, but was curious to hear Bedwyr's reason, for it meant they had begun to admit the Irishman into the intimate fellowship enjoyed by Arthur's Cymbrogi.

'You have seen him, Emrys. We all know he fights like a whirlwind.'

'Indeed,' Cai concurred, 'he is a very tempest.'

Gwenhwyvar joined us then, all gleaming points and keen edges. Her mail shirt shimmered like a wet skin, and the spike of her spear blade shone. She wore a kilt of leather and high leather boots. Her hair was gathered and bound tight at her neck; and, like the warrior queens of her people, she had daubed her face and arms with bright blue woad: spirals, stripes, sunbursts and serpents. She appeared fierce and beautiful, almost lethally dangerous to behold.

I had never seen her so, and remarked at my surprise in her transformation. She took my astonishment for flattery. 'You have never seen me lead a warband against an invader,' she replied. 'But you are fortunate indeed, Myrddin Emrys, for this woeful lack is soon redressed.'

'Lady,' Bedwyr said, 'I reckon myself fortunate that I do not have to lift blade against you, and I can but pity the luckless wretches who do."