Pendragon

Cai and Cador laughed.

'Beware,' warned Bedwyr under his breath. 'You go too far.'

But Arthur said, 'Never fear, Ulfias. It may not come to that. But if it does, no doubt you will enjoy the close companionship of your friends.'

Oh, Arthur was astute. Though he made light of my remark, he would allow Ulfias no dignified means of retreat. The Dubuni lord was caught in his own indecision; he must remain unmoved and endure the scorn, or redeem himself.

'Come, Ulfias,' Cador urged amiably, 'let us support our king as we have sworn to do. And who knows? We may grow to love Ierne.'

Ulfias swallowed his pride and said, 'Very well. If the women there are all as fair as Gwenhwyvar, I may even take an Irish wife.'

'I do not wonder that you say so,' Cai told him solemnly. 'I have seen the Dubuni tribe, and you could do worse than choose an Irish maid – if you can find any who would have you.'

Ulfias smiled doubtfully. This gentle taunting was better than my mockery. So, one more lord was added to our number. Cador's loyalty was beyond question. Indeed, he would not allow Arthur to humble himself by asking what he was more than willing to give outright. Cador, holding Caer Melyn in his lord's absence, had sent word to his battlechiefs within moments of Arthur's return.

The others we might have counted on – Idris, Cadwallo, Cunomor, and the lords of the North – would not receive word for many days. Meurig, however, arrived at dusk, and Brastias the following morning. Accompanying Brastias was a kinsman, a young nobleman named Gerontius, whom the elder lord was grooming for command.

Ogryvan of Dolgellau and his neighbour lord, Owain, arrived at midday, bringing with them their sons: Vrandub and Owain Odiaeth, who – in this season of peace following the Saecsens' defeat – had been given charge of their fathers' war bands.

Arthur welcomed the noblemen and gave them food and drink. No sooner were they settled than Urien Rheged arrived with his warband, and suddenly the caer was overflowing with warriors. 'We will begin now,' Arthur decided.

'What about the other lords?' wondered Bedwyr. 'A day or two more and they will arrive. You will need them.'

'I cannot wait any longer. Every day we delay means another day of plunder for Twrch Trwyth.' So saying, Arthur invited the nobles into the hall with their warriors and began the council even as the welcome cups were filled and passed.

'Your swift answer to my summons gladdens me,' Arthur declared, standing before them at the board. 'Be sure that I would not have asked you to attend if the need were not already sharp. I will keep nothing from you; the reason for the summons is this: the barbarian horde of one Twrch Trwyth has invaded Ierne and I fear that island is lost if we do not rally to her aid.'

'A small enough loss, it seems to me,' observed Brastias sourly.

Cador was quick to respond to this impertinence. 'You speak, Brastias, like one who has never had to defend a coast against marauding Sea Wolves.'

'What have the Irish ever given us but the point of a spear if we were foolish enough to turn our backs to them?' Brastias demanded. 'Sooner aid the barbarian, I say, and have done with the Irish for once and all."

'For myself,' put in Ogryvan, laying aside his cup, 'I have lost much to Eiru's thieves.' He looked at Arthur. 'Even so, I give my support to the king if it will secure the safety of my coast.'

'Well said, Lord Ogryvan,' Arthur commended him. 'That is the price I will demand for Britain's aid. From what I have seen of the Black Boar, the kings of Ierne will pay that price and gladly.' He told them then of our encounters with the Vandali, and warned, 'Know this: Amilcar has vowed to destroy Britain as well as Ierne. Unless we stop him there, we will see our own homes burned and our kinsmen slaughtered.'

The lords sat in contemplation. Arthur had put the matter before them plainly. What would they do?

Meurig was the first to speak. 'This is a most distressing report. And I could wish it came at a better time.' He stretched a hand towards Arthur. 'We have only just defeated the Saecsen. Our provisions are depleted and, God knows, our warriors could use a season of rest.'

'Trouble knows no season, brother,' old Ogryvan growled. He raised his head and looked around the gathering. 'I am with you, Arthur," he said. 'My warriors are your own.'

Owain, sitting next to Ogryvan, added his support. 'Our sons must soon rule in our places,' he said. 'Let them fight beside our War Leader as we have done, and learn the true cost of peace.'

'You will not regret your decision,' Arthur told them, and turned again to Meurig. 'You have heard your brother lords. What say you?'

'The Lords of Dyfed have ever stood beside their War Leader in battle.' Meurig glanced sideways at Brastias. 'We will support our High King to the last man.'

Brastias did not like this insinuation; he glared the length of the table. Clearly, the deliberations had taken an unexpected turn. He did not want to appear less willing than his peers, neither did he want to aid Arthur.

'Well, Brastias,' the High King asked. 'What is it to be?'

'If they see fit to lend aid in exchange for peace,' Brastias allowed stiffly, 'then I will not withhold it. But should this venture fail, I will hold you to blame.'

That was Brastias, true to nature: already shedding responsibility, and he had not even mounted horse nor drawn blade. Arthur let the remark pass, and turned to Ulfias. 'You have heard the others,' he said. 'Do you take back your word, or keep it?'

Well done, Arthur, I thought, make the wavering prince declare himself before the others; give him a place to stand, yes, but make certain he stands when the time comes. Ulfias seemed to shrink in upon himself. 'I will keep my word,' he said, glancing up quickly, his voice barely audible.

Of the assembled lords, only Urien Rheged had yet to declare himself. All eyes turned towards him. 'Come, Urien,' Ogryvan urged, 'let us hear your pledge.'

Of all the lords, I knew least about Urien. He was a raw young man, big-boned and brawny, with long hair, wild like a lion's mane, and dark. Watchful eyes and a brooding mouth gave him a shrewd, almost devious appearance. I had heard he was a lord of Rheged, one of Ennion's kinsmen. The estimable Ennion had been wounded at Baedun Hill and died a day or two later. No doubt Urien fought in that battle, too; I do not remember.

But Urien Rheged held his kinsman's place now, and I found myself wondering what kind of man he was. Young, certainly – even, I think, younger than he appeared – he masked his youth with the kind of gravity older men sometimes possess. He was given to few words, which made him appear wise, and took his time answering, which made him seem thoughtful.

When at last he spoke, he said, 'For myself, I am sick of warring. Let the Irish feel the fire now, I say; we have felt it long enough.' This was said with great weariness, as if he himself had borne the brunt of more battles than could be told. 'But since my brothers deem it best to aid this campaign, I am willing.' He paused again and looked around to see if all eyes were on him, then, drawing himself up, he announced, 'Urien of Rheged will do his part.'

His heart was not in it, but honour bound him to pursue a repugnant course – at least that was the impression he meant to impart. And others, I noted, were persuaded by it.

Arthur struck the board with the flat of his hand. 'Good!' he said, his voice filling the hall. 'Then it is settled. We sail for Ierne as soon as men and supplies can be assembled.'

Within moments the peace of the stronghold dissolved in the high-purposed commotion of a battlehost on the move. Rhys, and the small troop under his direction, busied themselves through the day and into the night with the daunting task of loading wagons and moving weapons and supplies down from the caer to the ships. After the third or fourth course of wagons had departed, Bedwyr came to me. 'There is not enough food,' he announced bluntly, 'or anything else, come to that. It is as Meurig said: we need a season of peace to fill our storehouses and granaries. I do not see how we can fight on nothing.'