"I hope Junius Lepo is still holding those whoresons, because we can't fight here, and I can think of no better spot between here and the valley mouth where we came out."
Garreth grunted. "No more can I, but it's no worse for us than it will be for them. We might have to fight them two against two if we meet them on this path, and if we do, then you and I must bear the brunt of it. D'you want to fall back and put someone else in front?"
Uther ignored the levity and shook his head.
"You're wrong, Garreth. You said it yourself, we're not going up against cavalry. When it comes to a fight, these people, whoever they are, will probably jump right down and fight on foot. That means they could light among the trees. We can't. And we can't take the horses out onto the rocks on the riverbed, either. Those boulders are certain death for horses."
Garreth eyed the riverbed, a chaos of layer upon layer of smooth, rounded boulders of every conceivable size. "I've never seen so many stones. Where could they all have come from?"
"From the cliff there over thousands of years. Slide after slide, century after century, broken down and worn smooth by the river water."
He was interrupted by the drumming of approaching hooves, and the scout sent out by Cato came thundering towards them. The enemy was close behind him, he reported, no more than a mile. More than a score of horsemen.
"A score? That's less than half of what I saw." Garreth's eyes were wide.
Uther made a vexed, tutting sound through his teeth. "Damnation! That's why they're so close. You know what they've done, don't you? They left half their number behind to deal with Junius and his ten men while the rest of them came on. That means they know we're here, and they're clever and determined." He was standing in his stirrups, looking back across the river to where the fir trees towered along the base of the long, high cliff, and then he swung back to the scout.
"There's a spot somewhere behind you where the river narrows between high banks, and there's a huge dead tree lying clear across it from side to side. We had to detour through the forest yesterday to get around it. How far back is it?"
"Less than a quarter of a mile, Lord Uther, perhaps two-thirds of that. I had to go around it too, going and coming."
"Right. Here's what we're going to do, Garreth, but we haven't got much time. That tree will stop them as it stopped us. They'll have to dismount and lead their horses around it through the underbrush. We'll wait for them there in the forest. The river's shallow on this side of the fallen tree, but on the other side of it there's a great, deep hole, fed by a waterfall. They won't be able to approach us from that direction, even on foot, because the tree stretches all the way across and the water's too fast and deep.
"We'll send half of our men across the river on foot when we reach the tree, each of them leading two horses. They'll leave them there among those giant firs and come back to join us. We'll lie in wait for these whoresons in the forest, as I said, but then we'll fall back and form a line in the river, where they'll have to come to us.
But they won't be able to use their horses any more than we can use ours, and we'll be standing among the rocks as they clamber over them to reach us. It should work. Then, when the time is right, we'll fall away in front of them and mount up among the trees below the cliff there. They're enormous, and the ground beneath them will be free of growth. The enemy will follow us on foot, and we'll be mounted again, waiting for them. What think you?"
"Let's do it." Garreth's voice was decisive, and Uther stood up in his stirrups and backed his horse around to face the column at his back.
"Hear me now, all of you! We're going to fight close by here, by that big fallen tree we found yesterday. It's not the place I would have chosen, but it's the only place we have, and we'll make it work for us, so listen closely." He paused, giving them a chance to spread out slightly to where they could all see and hear him.
"We can't use our horses here. There's no footing in the stream bed and no room to move among the undergrowth up above, but that's to our advantage if we can be ready in time. So when we reach the tree, on my order, we'll dismount, and every second man will take two horses and lead them across to the other side of the river. Leave them there, out of sight, and then get back to this side quickly. In the meantime, every other man will come with me up into the trees. The others will follow us with Garreth, the King's Champion here, when they return. It's time for us to teach some Outlanders what being Cambrian means. We'll be fighting on foot at first, but then we'll fight our way back across the river to our mounts. So thank the trainers in Camulod now for all that infantry drill they put you through, then bring your favourite weapons and your shields. You've called yourselves Dragons for years, so here's your chance to live up to your name and bring death, fire and destruction to the Outlanders, standing on your own feet."
He looked to his standard-bearer, the man who had ridden by his side or just ahead of him for more than ten years now. "Gwyn, you will take my battle standard and carry it with you across the river, then hide it somewhere—somewhere you know you can find it easily later, when we want to show it to these whoresons coming against us. Then come back and join me, but don't forget your horn." He raised his voice again for all to hear.
"Listen for Gwyn's horn when you're fighting among the trees. As soon as you hear it, disengage and make your way back down to the river, then form a line on me, over there, about two-thirds of the way across, where the water is less than knee-deep. You see the place? Just beyond the deepest part of the stream. That's where we'll stand and wait for them to come to us again, through deeper, faster water. Then, on Gwyn's next signal or mine, we'll retreat again ahead of them to where our horses are hidden among the fir trees. We'll mount up there and finish them as they come out of the river." He scanned the group, making sure that they had all heard him and understood. Finally he nodded. "That's all, then. Fight well and fight hard. I know you will, and I know you'll make me even prouder of you than I am now. Now let's move on and wait for my order to dismount!"
Mere moments later, it seemed, they came to the fallen tree and Uther gave the order to dismount. As the troopers swung down and the process of gathering the horses began, Uther noticed that Garreth's face was vacant of expression, his eyes fixed upon the great, dead tree that bridged the river.
"What's on your mind? You look perplexed."
Garreth blinked. "An idea. Swimmers. I need ten men who can swim. We'll come up into the woods with you to see what we're up against, but then I'd like to pull them back here to the river and get out of this armour. What I'm thinking of won't work if we're weighed down in iron. We'll strip down and then, when we hear your signal to fall back, we'll slip beneath the big tree and swim to the bank on the other side. Once there, we'll be behind the enemy and can hit them from there when they least expect it."
"You could be cut off and killed."
"So could you. But then again, we could succeed and pin the enemy between our two groups."
"Aye, you could. Very well, find yourself some swimmers."
The fight in the woods was brutal from the outset, for Uther was right and the enemy warriors simply abandoned their mounts at the first sign of trouble, preferring to fight on foot and perfectly happy to be alone, each man for himself, among the trees and bushes. Uther's men, on the other hand, striving to maintain disciplined fighting units, were hampered by the encroaching undergrowth at every turn, unable to swing their weapons as they had been trained to do. Uther was reminded almost immediately of his father's lesson, taught to him in the long distant past, about the way in which all battle plans are rendered useless with the first clash of weapons and bodies.