Pendragon

We began discussing how best to make use of the boon we had been granted. Conaire grew impatient with the talk. 'This makes no sense,' he complained. 'We have horses and they do not. I say we attack them and ride them down when they flee. We all know they will not stand before our horses.'

Bedwyr put him straight. 'With all respect, Lord Conaire, there are too many of them. While we attacked one warband, the others would quickly surround us. It is four of them to every one of us, mind. We would soon find ourselves unable to move at all – horses or no.'

'Then let us form the line,' Conaire suggested. 'We will charge them and drive them back to the sea with the points of our spears.'

'Nay, lord,' Cai replied. 'Our force would be spread too thin; we could not sustain the line. They would have only to sever it in one or two places to separate us. Once divided, they would easily overwhelm us.'

'What, then?' demanded the Irish king, his brittle patience shattering at last.

'As you rightly say, they fear nothing more than our horses,' Arthur told him. 'If we hold to the course I will devise, that fear will become a weapon we can wield against them.'

At once, Arthur began ordering the fight. In full view of the enemy, we laid our battle plan while the Black Boar stood looking on, waiting, the sun rising higher and hotter all the while. When he had finished, Arthur said, 'I will speak with Twrch Trwyth now. While we are together you will lead your warbands into position.'

'But they will see us,' Fergus suggested. 'Would it not be best to surprise them?'

'Another day, perhaps,' replied Arthur. 'This day I would have them ponder their predicament and let foreboding grow within them.'

Arthur and I returned to where the Vandal battlechiefs waited. Amilcar, not at all happy to be made to stand idle while we talked at length, scowled at us. Arthur did not dismount, but spoke to him from the saddle, making the Boar King squint into the sun.

He growled something at us, and Hergest said, 'Amilcar demands to know your answer.'

'The lords of Ierne say that you shall have nothing from them but the sharp end of the spear,' Arthur replied.

Hergest smiled at this, and relayed Arthur's words to his master, who glowered even more fiercely. 'Then you will all be killed," the Vandal said through his slave. 'Your settlements and strongholds will be burned and your women and children slaughtered; your treasure will be carried off, and your grain and cattle also. When we have finished, not even your name will remain.'

When Hergest finished, the Vandal lord added, 'I know these are not your people. And though you have refused my gift, I will yet extend my hand to you, Bear of Britain. Join with me, you and your men. Two such mighty war leaders in alliance could win much plunder.'

'I care little for war, and less for plunder. Thus, I cannot accept your offer,' Arthur answered. 'Yet, for the sake of those who own you lord, I will make you an offer in return: take your men and go back to your ships. Leave this island as you found it, taking nothing with you but the sand that clings to the soles of your feet.'

'If I do this, what will I receive?'

'If you do as I say, you will receive the Bear of Britain's blessing. Further, I will bid the priests of my realm to make heartfelt prayer to the High King of Heaven, who is my lord, to forgive any crimes you have committed in coming here.'

Amilcar recoiled at the suggestion. 'Can I fill my treasure house with these prayers?' he sneered. 'Who is this lord of yours that I should heed him? Your offer is a mockery, and worthy only of contempt.'

'So you say,' Arthur replied equably. 'Even so, I do not withdrawn.'

Just then, one of the Vandal chiefs attending Twrch grunted at him, calling his attention to the movement of our warriors. The Boar King turned to see our force divide itself in three-a main body with two smaller wings to the right and left; these advanced, and the central body withdrew so that it was well behind the protecting wings.

Amilcar barked a stream of commands and questions to his chieftains. They answered with shrugs and worried looks, whereupon he turned to Arthur. 'What is this?' he demanded, speaking through Hergest. 'Why do you array yourselves for battle in this way?'

'This is to help you understand,' Arthur replied, 'that we mean to defend our land and people. If you would steal from us, you must be ready to die.' These last words were spoken with the cold certainty of the tomb.

The Vandal king's face darkened. His eyes narrowed. He looked again at the odd battle formation. He spoke a few words to Hergest, then turned and walked back to his waiting horde. 'Lord Twrch says that he has talked enough. From this day, he is deaf to all entreaties. Expect no mercy – none will be granted.'

We sat our horses and watched the Vandal chiefs withdraw. Arthur waited until they had almost reached the stream and rejoined their warbands, and then: 'Yah!' He slapped his mount and raced towards them. They turned to the sound of hooves, saw the horse thundering down upon them, and scattered. Arthur swerved at the last moment and snatched away the boar's head standard from the grasp of the astonished Vandal holding it.

None of the enemy knew what had happened until Arthur was already galloping away again. He rode out of spear-throw, stopped and lofted the standard. 'Here is your god!' he shouted at them. Then, slowly, so that every eye would see and there could be no question of his intent, he lowered the standard and drove it head first into the ground.

The Vandali did not take this desecration calmly. As the boar's head touched the earth, an enraged cry went up. But Arthur ignored them and, turning serenely away, rode back to where our warriors waited, leaving the boar's head standard in the dirt behind him. The enemy roared the louder.

'That was well done!' cried Fergus as we rejoined them.

'Hoo!' cheered Conaire. 'By Lugh's right hand, you are a rascal, Lord Arthur!" He gestured with his spear towards the Vandal host. 'Listen to them! Oh, they are angry with you!'

'But do you think it wise to provoke them so?' wondered Gwenhwyvar.

'It is worth the risk, I think,' answered Arthur. 'How else could I be certain they would be drawn to the centre?'

'It is a good ploy,' I told him. 'Let us hope it works.'

The infuriated enemy did not wait to be further disgraced. They loosed a resounding shout and rushed forward, splashing across the stream. They came in a reckless, heedless swarm, running into battle.

It had been a long time since I sat a horse in battle. I had vowed never to fight again, but I felt the sword hilt in my hand, and the old familiar thrill quivered through my spine. Well, it would do no harm to fight today, I reckoned; besides, every blade was desperately needed. Thus, without considering the consequences, I found myself in the forerank of the battle host.

I watched them draw nearer, my heart quickening. I heard the enemy's feet pounding a dull drumbeat on the earth, and saw the sun hard on spear shaft and shield rim. I looked along the line of our own warriors, our swift ala. The horses hoofed the ground and tossed their heads, the sundering shout of the enemy making them skittish.

To the right, Cai sat at the head of his wing of fifty. Opposite him to the left, Bedwyr waited with his fifty. Both wings angled inward to force the enemy in towards the centre. They ran over the rough ground, screaming as they came.

Gwenhwyvar at my right hand looked across to me. 'I have never fought beside Arthur,' she mused. 'Is he as canny as they say?'

'They do not tell the half of it, lady,' I replied. 'I have fought beside Uther and Aurelius, and they were warriors to make others pale with envy. But Arthur far outshines his fathers on the unfriendly field.'

She smiled with admiration. 'Yes, this is what I have heard.’

‘The Lord of Hosts formed Arthur for himself alone,' I told her. 'When he rides into battle, it is a prayer.'

'And when he fights?' asked Gwenhwyvar, delighted with my acclaim of her husband.