He leaned from the saddle across to Gwenhwyvar, stoic and steely at his side, cupped a hand to the back of her head and drew her face near. 'You have ridden at my side in battle,' Arthur said gently. 'Each time I have taken up the sword I might have been slain. Truly, I might have been slain a thousand times over. This day is no different, so why do you fear?'
'A wife is ever happy to share her husband's lot," Gwenhwyvar replied, tears suddenly welling in her eyes. 'I have fought at your side, yes, chancing death gladly with you. But I have no portion now in what you propose, and that is more bitter to me than anything I know.'
'I care nothing for myself,' Arthur told her. 'What I do this day, I do for Britain. In this battle, I am Britain. No one can take my place or share my portion, for this combat belongs to the king alone.'
He stated the matter succinctly. If peace was to obtain to all Britain, it must be won by him who held all Britain in his hand. Thus, Arthur and no one else. The sacrifice would be his, or the glory. But whether sacrifice or glory, it was a sovereign act, and his alone to make.
Noble Gwenhwyvar understood this and, though she did not like it, she accepted it for his sake. 'I will abide,' she whispered. 'Only, I wish I could bring myself to believe this barbarian would honour his word.'
'My heart,' Arthur said, taking her hand in his and gripping it hard. 'We are not in Amilcar's hands. Truly, we are in God's hands. And if the High King of Heaven upholds us, who can stand against us?'
Gwenhwyvar offered a thin smile; she lifted her head and squared her shoulders, the warrior queen once more. In all that followed, she remained steadfast. Though many brave men quailed, Gwenhwyvar breathed no word of doubt or fear. Whatever qualms she might still have harboured in the matter, she spoke never a word more. Nor did she ever so much as hint – whether in mood or gesture – that she distrusted the undertaking. When she at last understood that Arthur would not be moved, Gwenhwyvar took her place beside him as square and true as any of his chieftains. And, if Arthur had so desired, she would have taken the king's place on the plain without a murmur – such was her true nobility.
Arthur kissed his wife, then climbed down from the saddle and, squaring his shoulders, walked alone onto the battlefield. The Britons stood in ranks behind their battlechiefs, ardent prayers on every tongue.
Great Light, preserve our king! Surround Arthur with defending angels! Shield him with your Swift Sure Hand!
Away across the plain, the Vandali host advanced, nor did they show any sign of halting until they were close enough for us to see their dark eyes gleaming in the merciless light. Their expressions were grave, giving away nothing. They came on – nearer, nearer still – and I thought they would yet overrun us while we stood watching. But, when no more distance than the length of two spear-throws separated the two war hosts, the Vandali halted. Amilcar, with two chieftains and Hergest, advanced.
Seeing that Amilcar arrived with bearers, I called to Cai and Bedwyr to follow me, and we ran to join Arthur on the plain. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder as we came running. 'It may be true that you must fight Amilcar alone,' I told him, 'but you need not trust blindly to his barbarian sense of honour. Cai, Bedwyr, and I will attend you and see that the Black Boar keeps his word.'
Arthur glanced at the resolute expressions on the faces of his friends. 'Very well. Let it be so. We will go out together.'
The three of us walked with Arthur to meet the Black Boar and I determined to do what I could to ensure the fairness of the contest. We met the Vandal War Leader in the centre of the plain and halted a few paces away.
The Black Boar was even bigger and more heavily muscled than I remembered him. Stripped for battle, he presented a fierce and wildly savage aspect. He had smeared his face and limbs with lard, blackened with soot. Naked to the waist, his torso was a mass of scars from old wounds; stout thighs bulged below his leather loincloth. He was barefoot, and carried the heavy shield, short wide-bladed sword, and thick-hafted spear, or lance, favoured by his kind. Around his thick neck he wore a triple-stranded band strung with human teeth and knuckle bones. His hair, too, had been greased, and hung in thick, heavy black ropes from his head.
There was indeed something of the wild boar in his aspect. He stood easily, regarding Arthur with mild contempt, no fear at all in his fathomless dark eyes. Amilcar seemed eager to meet Arthur face to face at last. In all, he appeared a supremely confident warrior, profoundly secure in his prowess.
The Vandal chief grunted a stream of words in his guttural tongue, which his captive priest rendered intelligible to us.
'Amilcar says he is well pleased that Arthur has not run away from this fight. He would have you know that he considers it the utmost honour to kill the British king. The head of such a great lord will bring him much renown.'
Arthur laughed. 'Tell Twrch I may not be parted from my head so easily as he thinks. Many have tried but all have failed.'
Hergest enjoyed repeating Arthur's words to Amilcar, who made a quick reply, lifting his necklace as he spoke, and rattling the bones. 'Twrch Trwyth says it is the same with him. Nevertheless, he will be most happy to add the teeth and knucklebones of a Briton king to his battledress.'
Amilcar spoke again. 'Twrch is ready,' Hergest repeated. 'There has been talk enough. It is time to fight.'
'Not yet,' I said, holding up my hand. 'Before the combat begins, I would hear the warrior's vows.'
'What vows are these?' asked Amilcar through his learned slave.
'That you will observe the threefold law.'
Hergest relayed the reply, and the Vandali warlord asked, 'What is this law?'
'The law is this: that no man from either camp shall intervene, or impede the contest; that the appeal for mercy shall be granted; that combat shall continue only so long as a man has breath to lift his weapon.'
Amilcar glared at me as Hergest interpreted my words for him, and delivered himself of a mocking reply. 'Twrch says your laws are the bleating of sheep in his ears. He will have nothing to do with them.'
'Then neither will this combat take place,' I replied firmly; Cai and Bedwyr squared themselves, hands on sword hilts, unafraid. 'For unless you agree to honour this law,' I continued, 'the war will continue and the British lords will hound you from one end of this island to the other. You will be hunted down and ground into the dust.'
Amilcar heard this with a scowl on his face. He spat a word of reply. 'It is agreed,' Hergest told me. 'Amilcar makes this vow.' I turned to Arthur. 'Agreed,' he said, giving a sharp downward jerk of his chin. 'I will be bound.'
'So be it!' I stepped away from the two combatants. 'Let the battle begin!'
TEN
Cai and Bedwyr, steely and determined, took their places at my side. 'Keep your hands on your sword, brother, and watch his every move,' Bedwyr hissed to Cai. 'Amilcar is a liar and cannot be trusted.'
Twrch Trwyth, grinning savagely, raised his sturdy lance and placed the short blade against his naked chest, drawing the finely honed weapon across his flesh. A thin trickle of blood dripped from the shallow wound down his black-greased torso.
This I had seen before. The barbarians believe that drawing first blood ensures victory through the spirit of the weapon thus awakened. While the Vandal thus occupied himself, Arthur drew Caledvwlch and dropped to one knee. Gripping the blade in both hands, he raised the hilt before him to form the sign of the cross, whereupon he offered up a prayer to the Saviour Lord.
Amilcar watched him narrowly. As Arthur knelt to pray, the barbarian king moved to stand over him, gazing down with an expression of deepest loathing. He drew a deep breath and spat in Arthur's upturned face.
'The animal!' growled Cai. 'I will -'