Pendragon

'Have you been long with them?' I asked.

'It is three years since I was taken,' Hergest replied.

'You must have proven your value to them many times over,' I observed.

'Indeed,' replied the slave, 'I must prove it anew with every day that passes, for I know I will not outlive my usefulness by so much as a single breath.'

One of the big-shouldered barbarians grew impatient with the talk and grunted something to Hergest, who answered him in his own tongue. 'Ida says you must come down from your mount if you are to speak to him.' Hergest paused, allowing himself the shadow of a smile. 'They fear horses greatly.'

'Tell him,' Arthur replied calmly, patting the horse's neck, 'that I will come down from my mount, but only to speak to one of my own rank and authority.'

'Arthur!' I whispered. 'Have a care!'

The slave started. 'Arthur?' he asked in surprise. 'You are Artorius – also called the Bear of Britain?'

'I am known by that name,' Arthur answered; indicating the staring barbarian, he replied, 'Now tell them what I said.'

Hergest repeated Arthur's refusal to dismount and, to my surprise, the barbarian simply nodded, conceding the situation with placid acceptance. He and several others began discussing the matter between them. One of them-who seemed to be the youngest of the chieftains – spoke earnestly to Hergest, who pointed at Arthur and gravely intoned the words 'Artorius Rex! Imperator!' The chieftain called Ida cast a dubious sidelong glance at Arthur, then turned abruptly and began striding across the plain to where the horde waited.

'That was well done, lord,' Hergest told us. 'They wished only to make certain that you were a king worthy of treating with their own leader. Mercia here' – he nodded to the young chieftain – 'thinks that because you are young like him you must be a warrior of little worth or consequence. I assured them that you were greater even than the Emperor of Rome.'

Arthur smiled, 'You might have restrained your enthusiasm for my sake. Still, I will try not to make you out a liar.'

The barbarian chieftain had reached the battle host. He addressed someone there, and then turned and pointed at us. A moment later, a figure emerged from the mass and walked towards us. The first chieftain fell into step behind this person, with two standard-bearers on either side.

The man was even taller than those around him – a champion of imposing stature, with wide, heavy shoulders, a powerful back, and thick-muscled limbs. Like those around him, he watched us with quick, intelligent dark eyes, above high cheekbones – all but obscured beneath a wide band of black paint. A thick moustache flowed over fleshy lips, and a long, black, double braid hung over one shoulder. In his right hand he carried a slender iron rod with the image of a boar in hammered gold at its top.

At his approach, the other barbarians moved aside, each man striking his chest with the flat of his hand as his lord passed. He came to stand before us, whereupon Arthur dismounted.

Hergest, standing between them, said something in the guttural speech of the Vandali, then turned to Arthur and said, 'Lord Arthur, the man you see before you is Amilcar, War King of Hussa, Rogat, and Vandalia.'

The barbarian king raised his iron rod and placed his left hand upon the golden boar. He grunted something to Hergest, but his eyes never left Arthur's.

'As you are called the Bear of Britain,' the slave explained, 'the mighty Amilcar desires that you shall call him by the name his enemies have learned to fear.'

'What is that?' asked Arthur.

'Twrch Trwyth,' answered Hergest. 'Black Boar of the Vandali.'

EIGHT

'Why are you here?' Arthur asked, his voice calm and steady as his gaze.

The slave Hergest spoke Arthur's words to the Vandal king, who replied impassively. 'Twrch would have you know,' related the slave, 'that he has heard of the deeds of the British Bear and has given command that your realm should not be destroyed at this time. For the Black Boar is also a mighty war leader and it is a sorrowful waste of wealth when two such champions fight.'

Amilcar spoke some more, and Hergest continued. 'Twrch asks you to consider his elation when he learned the Bear of Britain was here.'

'It is difficult to imagine,' Arthur replied amiably. 'Tell Twrch Trwyth that I am waiting to hear why he has seized land belonging to another.'

'He has taken land for his camps – nothing more.'

'Does he intend to stay?'

Hergest consulted the barbarian warlord and answered, 'Twrch says he intends to plunder the land until he has enough wealth to continue his journey.'

'Does his journey have a destination?' I asked the learned slave.

'We have come from Carthage,' Hergest explained. 'The Emperor of Great Constantine's city sent soldiers to banish the Boar and his people from the land they have held for many generations. So now they search for another home. However, their departure was made in haste and they came away with nothing; thus they require wealth to continue the search.'

'I see,' replied Arthur. 'And does he expect this wealth to be given to him?'

The Boar King and his slave conversed a moment, whereupon Hergest answered, 'Twrch says that in honour of your renown and the great esteem in which he holds you, he will not kill you and ravage this weakly defended island – a deed he could easily perform since the vast number of warriors you see before you are but the smallest part of his war host, and more are coming here even now. Twrch says it is a very great gift he offers you. In return for this kindness, he expects you to make a gift of equal value. For he has vowed to destroy both Eiru and the Isle of Britons unless you grant his desire.'

Arthur stared implacably at the massive battlechief. 'What is his desire?'

Hergest turned to Amilcar and conveyed Arthur's question. The barbarian replied with a grunt.

'Everything,' Hergest reported. 'He says you must give him all.'

To his everlasting credit, Arthur allowed the Vandal chief no support for his greed, nor any hope that it would be rewarded. Neither did he provoke the barbarian with an outright refusal. He turned his eyes to the sky as if pondering the inconstant clouds.

'As you know, these lands are not under my authority,' replied Arthur at last. 'I could not give you a grain of sand or blade of grass, much less anything else. I know a man of your rank will understand this.'

He paused to allow his words to be translated for the Boar King. When Hergest turned back to him, Arthur said, 'Therefore, I will take your demand to those who hold authority over this realm – though I do not believe they will grant it.'

Arthur's reply was delivered with such confidence and dignity, the Boar King could not but agree. 'Take my demand to the rulers of this realm,' Amilcar conceded through Hergest. 'If, when the sun stands over the battleground, I have not heard their reply, then I will attack and you will all be killed like dogs.'

'Well,' I observed, as we rode slowly back to the waiting battle host together, 'we have gained a span of time at least. Let us use it wisely.'

'Was he telling the truth, do you suppose?' wondered Arthur. 'Does he really have more warriors on the way?"

'Difficult to say,' I replied. 'No doubt we shall see.'

I expected Conaire and the Irish lords to greet the Vandal's demand with the contempt it deserved, and I was not disappointed.

'Everything?' Conaire hooted. 'I say they will have not so much as the breath in their nostrils when we have finished. Let the battle begin at once. They will get nothing from my hand but the sharp end of a spear.'

'It is not what you will give them,' Arthur said. 'It is what the enemy has given us.'

'He has given us nothing but the outrage of his assault! Must we also endure the insult of his absurd demands?' Conaire glared at Arthur and at me.

'Why, the Vandal battlechief has given us the victory this day,' Arthur replied. 'For he has allowed us to determine how the battle will proceed. And I tell you, that is worth the small insult.'