Hawk of May (29 page)

I bowed deeply and left, closing the door behind me.

Since Ossa could not expect a second raid so soon after the first we made a second, south of the first one, and concentrated on the newly settled border region. Ossa refused to make the same mistake twice and waited to gather his army before marching on us. In doing so he made a worse mistake, for he left his royal fortress, Catraeth (or Cataracta, as the Saxons call it) with only a light guard while he marched slowly up to when we had last been reported. But we circled around through Ebrauc as fast as we could press our horses, left the plunder from the raid there, and struck into the heart of Deira. We took Ossa's fortress, removed all the hoarded plunder, and fired as much of it as we could before retreating again to Caer Ebrauc. We were surprised at the amount of plunder; Ossa's raids had apparently been successful. Ossa had tried to follow us when he heard that we were again in Deira, but arrived in Catraeth too late, and had to disband his army for the harvest-season and try to repair the damage and appease his warband, who had also lost their goods.

Urien was delighted.

“By the sun and the hosts of Heaven,” he told Arthur when we were again feasting in Caer Ebrauc, “you'll have them beaten by mid-winter!”

Arthur shook his head. “It will be harder from now on. They know how quickly we can move now. And we are still unable to meet their army, and they know that. They have learned, I think, not to raid too deeply into British territory, or to fear retaliation if they do. But they will guard themselves now, and probably try more short raids. Still, at this rate—perhaps by midsummer.”

Urien laughed. “Midsummer. I have been fighting for years, and have felt glad if I can manage to hold my own. Ach well, you have fine warriors, who know how a war should be fought. Your friend Bedwyr seems capable of leading the Family on his own.” (Bedwyr, near Arthur as always, smiled at the compliment but made a disclaiming gesture.) “And Cei ap Cynryr is a man who would be war-leader in any other warband. And Gereint and Goronwy and Cynan and my nephew Agravain have earned their fame as well, that is plain. I cannot hope to match them with any of my own followers. And then, I must guard my coasts, or those thrice-damned Irish would burn my fortress under me.” Urien paused, taking another sip of Caradoc's wine, and looked at Arthur with a gleam in his eyes. “And Gwalchmai ap Lot, though not a member of your Family, fights in such a way as to make songs for the poets.”

Arthur shrugged and changed the subject.

Agravain glared at Arthur, then hacked savagely at the haunch of venison before him. Cei glared back at Agravain, then stared at Bedwyr, questioningly. Bedwyr was his friend and Arthur's, and Cei expected the Breton to take their side in the debate which had grown up about Arthur's continued refusal of my word. Many of the warriors, who admired my fighting and my refusal to serve any other, endlessly discussed Arthur's reasons and frequently blamed him, which caused others to grow angry with them. Bedwyr alone tried to remain neutral, and Cei resented this neutrality.

“Well, but it is true, Hawk of Battle,” Urien said, refusing to accept Arthur's change of subject and turning to me. “How was it in that skirmish half a day's ride south-east of the border? I missed that one.”

Urien regretted it when he missed any good fight. I told him about the skirmish, and wondered when he would offer me a place in his warband. He was obviously awaiting his chance. I think that, like Caradoc, he had asked Arthur some questions in private, but did not believe the answers he had been given. Perhaps he was waiting for me to tire and leave Arthur before he made his offer. He had given me gifts, a cloak of embroidered silk, imported from Italy, and a very fine shield with an enamelled boss, far too fine to be used. He was a generous man, open-handed, courageous in battle, loyal, a lover of mead and music and women, a good man, a man to trust. But not a man I wanted to follow. He was blind to too many things. The only country he knew was his own clan, though he recognized a few vague responsibilities to the clans which owed him allegiance, and a few hazy duties to Arthur. He had nothing of Arthur's transcendent vision, his brilliance, his habit of giving himself as well as his possessions to the cause, or his gallantry and gaiety. Urien's warband, too, was not the Family. I knew the Family by then, that it truly was a family, a band of brothers. I thought that it must be like the Red Branch at the time of CuChulainn, a place where courage and honor were taken for granted, filled with glory and laughter: Even though Arthur was no closer to accepting me, I did not wish to leave.

Urien would have stayed with us longer, for he was enjoying the campaign, but while in Ebrauc he received some bad news from Rheged. His war-leader, in a truly spectacular piece of idiocy, allowed himself and most of the warband to be trapped by a group of raiders whom they outnumbered three to one. They lost fifty men in escaping. Beyond this, the sea raids were increasing in frequency as the summer wore on. Urien was needed at Yrechwydd. We sent some of the plunder back with him.

Arthur was very pleased with the plunder. It would support the Family for some time, and that we had been able to give so much to Urien and Caradoc would allow us to ask them for goods in return once our supplies ran out. Besides this, Urien and Caradoc had been enough impressed to promise to raise their armies whenever Arthur should request it, and the kingdoms, it was hoped, had been enough impressed to answer that call to arms. The Family was proud of itself, of its strength and reputation. But we were tired. It had been a hard summer's fighting, and winter would be welcome for the rest it brought. Our weariness made us tense, and there were arguments, almost fights, between members of the Family. Arthur could always stop them, but they disturbed everyone.

It was perhaps because of this weariness and tension that our next raid was a failure. More likely, though, we failed because we attacked Bernicia.

Bernicia actually lies closer to Rheged than Deira, but Ossa of Deira had been doing most of the raiding, and so Arthur had wished to weaken it first. Now that Ossa was rendered temporarily quiet we turned our attention to Bernicia.

We struck into the southern part of the country after riding at a fast pace along the border of Deira and Ebrauc. We had a good road across the hills, a Roman road, since we were still south of the Wall. All the land which was uncultivated was heavily forested, full of lakes, an easy country to hide in. It is rich country, too: we took over two hundred head of cattle in the two days of raiding which brought us to the Wall. We were confident, certain that Aldwulf would not dare to attack us without first raising the
fyrd
,
and that, at harvest time, even if he was alert to the threat of invasion it would take some time to do so.

Then, on the third day of the raid, one of our scouts rode up to Arthur at a full gallop, reined in his worn horse and gasped out the news: Aldwulf was within half a day's ride to our west, and had raised the
fyrd.

No matter how careful his planning or quiet his movements, we all knew that he should not have been able to do it. We had ridden from Caer Ebrauc too quickly; he could hardly have received even the news of our presence from reports more than a day before. And it took still much time to lead an army, at its slow pace, down from Gefrin in the north. To have done as he had he would have discovered our plans the moment we left Caer Ebrauc and have begun to move southward at once, collecting his army along the way. No messenger can ride so fast. We did not speak of it, but we could guess how Aldwulf Fflamddwyn had found out.

We turned south, hurriedly. Aldwulf did not have all the men he could muster, but his army was still a large one, over five thousand men, and he had his warband as well. There were six hundred and twenty-three in the Family, since some were sick in
Caer Ebrauc and some escorting Urien and the plunder to Rheged. We were accustomed to fight against superior numbers, but the Saxons now had the advantage of the land and of allies in the south as well. To the north stood the Wall, to the east was the sea, and to the south was Ossa. We preferred to leave. However, we had not gone far south when we discovered that Ossa was approaching with part of his army and all of his warband. Their numbers were such that we could have defeated them, but that would have left us a prey to Aldwulf, whom our scouts reported as following us southward, keeping to our west. The whole land had risen against us, and sprang ambushes at every turn of the road, so that our speed was cut down. The only way to escape, Arthur decided, was to take the stronger enemy, and pass through the Bernician army.

We made camp by the river Wir, keeping it between ourselves and the Saxons, and Arthur called the Family together to tell us what we must do. He was silent for a while, looking at his warriors, lingeringly, and then he spoke calmly and quietly: “Tonight at midnight we will lift camp and attack the army of Fflamddwyn.”

A murmur like wind in the trees swept the Family, then died down again. The prospect of death was always near us and could not make us afraid.

Arthur smiled, very gently, very brightly. “We will go through them on horseback, if at all, so we will leave the cattle and the plunder behind. Fflamddwyn is camped upon the other side of the Dubhglas river, less than four hours' easy riding. He will doubtless know that we are coming, but we still will have the advantage of the dark, and, it is to be hoped, a good amount of confusion. We will ride in a spearhead formation, the best of the cavalry first, the rest about the edges, and those who normally fight on foot and doctors and such in the center. If the point of our spear goes through we will escape, Aldwulf will lose many of his men and most of his credit, while we will be largely unharmed. If not…” again he looked at his warband. “I have no wish to point out that there is no escape, and give you examples and arguments to prove how bad your condition will be. If our spear breaks on their shield-wall, I trust you to kill before you are killed, and to make such a battle that it will be sung of by all Britain, and be a light to hold against the dark. You are my warriors, my hearts, I know that you will not surrender.”

They did not even cheer; their stillness was an assent more total than any shouting. Arthur smiled again, a light in his eyes. The evening sun fell on him, on the river and its grassy banks, the forest behind, half-bare with autumn; on the ranks of men and horses with their harness and weapons dull with use, and everything was as quiet as a forest pool in the middle of a summer day. Everything seemed to be worked in gold, apart from the world, apart from time and war, one immortal, imperishable creation, and the dream was real. Then, one of our plundered cattle lowed, a horse nickered, bitten by a fly, and the spell was broken.

“I will ride at the head of the Family,” Arthur continued briskly, “and with me, Bedwyr, Gereint, Cynan, Rhuawn, Maelwys, Llenlleawg, Sinnoch ap Seithfed, Llwydeu, Trachmyr, Gwyn ab Esni, Moren ab Iaen, Morfran ap Tegid, and…” his eyes fell on me and he paused, then continued in the same tone, “Gwalchmai ap Lot.”

He went on, assigning the rest of the Family their places and giving orders for the breaking of camp and the disposal of the plunder, where to cross the river and where to meet if separated, but I did not really listen. He had given me an order to ride near him with his best men, the spear-point of the warband, the position of greatest danger. He was not a man to command this unless…

I waited impatiently until the High King had finished, then hurried towards him. Most of the Family hung about, paying close attention. Nearly all of them had taken sides with either Agravain or Cei in the dispute about me, and everyone was interested in the outcome.

Arthur had been turning towards the fire, where we would roast some of Aldwulf's cattle for dinner, but he saw me coming and waited. His face was quite still, expressionless. I knew that look, and the beginning of my hope died again.

“Lord,” I said quietly, “you commanded me to take a place beside you against the Saxons.”

“I did,” said Arthur coldly. There was a moment of tense silence, and one of the warriors almost spoke, but decided not to. “If you wish, you can refuse. You are not my warrior.”

I shook my head. “No, Lord Pendragon, I do not care to refuse.” Suddenly the bloody and exhausting summer, and all the bitterness of extinguished hopes rose in me at once, and I said, “You know that I will not refuse. You know that I will fight for you. Haven't I shown you that a dozen times over? But I wish to know why.”

“I recognize necessities,” answered Arthur. “If my Family is to live, we must break the shield-wall. You can kill from horseback very expertly, Gwalchmai of Orcade; and yes, I know that you will fight. So I use you, to aid my Family and Britain. I wish I did not have to.”

“That is not what I meant,” I said, softly and quickly. “Why do you refuse my sword and use it at the same time?”

“I have said that I do not wish to use it,” Arthur returned, the coldness growing sharper with anger. Agravain's party among the Family stirred, muttering. The air was thick with tension. “Why have you stayed? Any king in Britain would be overjoyed to have you. Yet, you hang about me, unasked, with your killing and your sorceries and your mother's curse and Darkness…”

My hand was somehow on my sword. “You know nothing of that. Why do you insist on believing that I adore her? If I could work sorcery, Arthur Pendragon, I would not hang about you, plodding on and fighting and killing for you—for despite what you believe, I have no love for killing—but I would work such a work that all Britain would demand that you accept me. I swear the oath of my people, I hate witchcraft, more than you because I know more of it. Are you entirely in darkness?”

“In God's name, what do you want?” shouted Arthur. “What have you done since you came to me except kill and divide my Family? Indeed, you have won fame, riches, and honor for yourself—shall I make return to you for that? Do you wish me to accept these things as right, good, and noble? Do you think that I will accept this knowledge you speak of, the knowledge of Darkness?”