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Authors: N. M. Browne

BOOK: Warriors of Camlann
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Taliesin walked over to stand beside Brother Frontalis, and all muttering ceased: ‘Let us pray for our land and all that is sacred in it. Let us pray by all that is sacred that a leader will be chosen, joined, wedded, made one with Britannia, our Island of the Mighty, and we its people.'

After a long pause Taliesin spoke again.

‘I propose that Arturus Ursus, son of King Uther of Pengwern and Ygraine of Dumnonia, Dux Bellorum of Britannia, should be High King of Britannia. Who agrees?'

Was it Ursula's imagination or did Arturus look a little startled to be named as ‘Arturus Ursus'? No one commented as one by one the rulers spoke.

‘I, Meirchion of Rheged, Count of Britannia, agree and pledge my sword and my men to his service in the defence of Britannia.'

‘I, Medraut of Ceint, Count of the Saxon Shore, agree and pledge my sword and men to his service in the defence of Britannia.'

It took a long time. At some point Larcius made his pledge. Ursula did not meet his eyes. She did not know if he had thought she would act otherwise for, indeed, it seemed to her that he would have made a better High King than Arturus, but who was she to stand against history?

Ursula dared not relax her grip on Cerdic and she was relieved when Arturus stood to acknowledge their words – it was a sign that maybe the meeting might soon end.

Arturus walked to the centre of the circle of men, and then prostrated himself towards each quarter of the circle in turn.

‘As our Lord washed the feet of his followers, so I promise to be your servant, to act only for the good of Britannia and for her people. I thank you for trusting me, and I promise you I will not betray that trust.'

Arturus stood up. Ursula was a little taken aback by his self-abasement, and by the startled expression she saw on some of the other faces, she was not the only one. She earnestly hoped that they had not made a terrible mistake in choosing Arturus over Larcius.

‘It saddens me that my first act as High King must be to stand in judgement over my mother's eldest son, Gorlois Cerdic. I would not take up this sacred office with blood on my hands, so my judgement is this: King Gorlois Cerdic of Dumnonia is to sacrifice his lands and
crown to the High King, and pledge to use his skills as a soldier and horseman to lead and train the Cavalry of Camulodunum and be their Commandant.'

Many of those present looked displeased. It was not tactful of Arturus to have immediately added to his personal wealth and status by taking land from his brother.

Arturus continued. ‘As a sign of the love and respect in which I held his father, I grant the title of King of Dumnonia to Larcius Ambrosius, for as long as he shall live, after which it shall revert to my brother's heirs. As Larcius is the son of my lord, Ambrosius Aurelianus, whom I so deeply mourn, it is my dearest wish that we two might work together for the good of Britannia.'

That was better. Ursula released her hold on Cerdic. In spite of her greater height there was something incongruous about seeing a comparatively slender woman restraining the heavily built warrior.

Cerdic knelt before King Arturus. ‘I thank you for your clemency. I, Gorlois Cerdic, son of Tanicus Cerdic of Dumnonia and Ygraine, once of Calchfynedd, lay my sword and life at your service.'

Ursula loosened the muscles of her arm and shoulder and took her place beside the new king. She was at the court of King Arthur, and it was not at all what she had expected.

Chapter Eighteen

The decision to choose Arturus as High King changed everything – fast. Bishop Petrus recovered sufficiently to officiate at a small formal oath-taking ceremony at which the High King's status was confirmed, and Arturus and Gwynefa were married. There was surprisingly little fuss. Arturus was a practical man and too concerned with the coming campaign against the Aenglisc to permit himself to be distracted. The various kings and civic leaders left Camulodunum at dawn the day after the ceremony. They were escorted by their private retinues, their wagons and their men at arms, fully armoured and prepared for trouble. Camulodunum was close to the occupied territories and the risk of an ambush was high. Perhaps the other rulers of safer territories needed to be reminded of the imminent danger. Either way, none left before promising grain, cattle, horses, weapons and men to swell the ranks of the Combrogi. Arturus hoped to raise a force of
more than a thousand men to occupy the fort at Mons Badonicus in readiness for the Aenglisc onslaught. It was not a large force by the standards of their ancestors but it was enough to pose considerable logistic problems. Such issues kept Arturus cloistered in the Commander's room at the barracks, poring over maps and supply lists and the precious handwritten, vellum copy of the Roman military manual by Vegetius that had belonged to Ambrosius's own father. Medraut spent long hours debating strategy, until it was agreed that he would stay with a minimal force, so that should the Aenglisc mount an opportunistic attack on Camulodunum or his own fort of Dumnoc neither would be left undefended.

Taliesin was concerned. In his view, Arturus was not playing the role of Celtic High King sufficiently. He was failing to dispense gifts and hospitality – failing to spend time with the men, failing to win their loyalty.

To compensate for Arturus's absence Taliesin insisted that Ursula trained with the cavalry troops during the day and mixed with the military commanders at mealtimes and during the evening entertainments. He insisted that she learn the names of the men, their interests, and their strengths. It was not an arduous task. She enjoyed the training, riding with the long lance, learning how to fire an arrow at a target from horseback. She loved the feeling of fitness and strength that was Boar
Skull's inheritance. It was so different from the way she had felt at home. Larcius was often around, though she found his presence unsettling. Ursula had spent time enough with warriors to handle herself like one of the men. It was easier for them to look at her as some kind of precociously gifted boy rather than as a woman and she did nothing to make that more difficult. Larcius had the good sense not to treat her as he treated Gwynefa, with endless complicated compliments that made her laugh, but it was hard for Ursula to deny that she was a woman when he was near. She was not entirely sure that she wanted to. She missed Dan, though, all the time.

Dan stayed out of everyone's way, sequestered in the chapel with Brother Frontalis or talking with Taliesin. He had become a semi-nocturnal figure, sleeping in the small room at the back of the chapel for much of the day and only emerging after dark to talk to the night sentries. He also exercised in Combrogi fashion, silently, alone in the training ground when all but the watch slept.

Ursula was hurt by his avoidance of her. She tried to meet his mind but it was closed to her, so instead she waited for him outside the chapel – a small ambush of her own. She waited a long time. When Dan finally emerged, she noticed that he moved heavily like a much older man, like a man in pain.

‘Dan,' she said softly, ‘why are you avoiding me? Why are you hiding like some kind of freak in the shadows?'

‘You know why.'

Ursula looked puzzled.

‘It's not you, Ursula, but I can't stand people anymore, not when I have to feel their fears, their bitterness – it's all more than I can bear. And for a couple of nights now I've been sharing their dreams.' He shuddered and lifted haunted eyes towards her.

‘I don't think I can deal with much more of it, Ursula. I need to find Rhonwen and beg her to raise the Veil. She has no particular enmity towards me. I've got to get home – get back to normal.'

‘You'd try and get home without me?' Ursula was shocked.

‘You seem happy and you're important. All the soldiers in the camp hang on your every word. The Lady Ursa is everybody's idol. There are men in the barracks who dream about you every night – you'd be shocked.'

‘And this makes you think that I wouldn't want to go home?' Ursula's voice was dangerous.

‘Well, at least you're having a better time than me.'

Ursula could feel her temper flare. ‘You sound like a spoilt—'

‘What, Ursula? What do I sound like? Like you
would know! You have no idea.'

Her punch arrived at the speed of thought, but Dan dodged it anyway, and before he knew what he was doing he had bunched his own fist. His father had drummed it into him as a small child that he should never ever hit a girl, but he found that Ursula did not count. She had the power of a Celtic warrior in her fists. His own fury temporarily blocked out his awareness of her feelings, so he was taken by surprise when a second punch made contact. That was it. He attacked Ursula like a wild animal, kicking and punching – she was nowhere near as agile as he was and she took it for a while, until a blow from her right fist sent him reeling backwards into the wall of the chapel and Brother Frontalis.

‘My children! What in the name of our Blessed Lord is going on?'

Ursula stood up, bruised and bleeding. She felt like a schoolgirl again – ashamed and awkward.

‘Not exactly a fight for heroes,' Brother Frontalis said dryly.

Dan stood up and shook his head.

‘I'm sorry, Ursula.' He knew every place where he had hurt her, he could feel the sting of the abrasions and, worse still, he knew she felt betrayed. He looked up to see her eyes were no longer angry but moist and injured looking. He allowed himself to hear her voice in his mind.

‘You are my friend – you were oath-bound to help me. You would have left me – here alone – how could you?'

‘Ursula, I'm so sorry.'

Dan did not know if the lump in his throat was because he'd hurt her and he was sorry or because he'd hurt her and he knew exactly how it felt for her, but when he went to hug her and she hugged him back, the tears flowed. It was a relief to hold on to Ursula and let all his fear and horror of the past few days wash away. She felt the same way and there was no shame among the Combrogi in showing emotion. Ursula clung to him as if he was the only stable thing in an unstable universe.

‘Dan don't leave me – promise you won't. I've hated not talking to you these last few days. I don't want to be the Lady Ursa – I just want to be Ursula. I want to see my mum again. Please don't even think of leaving me again!'

‘I won't. I won't. I'm sorry. It's all wrong, all this feeling other people's feelings makes me selfish – you wouldn't expect that would you. I promise I won't leave you.'

Dan stepped away from her, though he kept hold of her hand as he wiped his streaming nose on the back of his other hand.

Ursula pulled a face.

‘I'll make a new oath if you want,' Dan said.

Ursula shook her head vigorously and wiped her face.
Her eyes were pink and puffy looking, and her nose seemed to have swelled to about twice its normal size.

‘I don't need your oath – I believe you. I'm your friend, Dan – you shouldn't need to keep away from me.'

‘What about Larcius?'

‘What about Larcius?'

It seemed impossible to Dan that she could not acknowledge the strength of the attraction she felt for the man. He could feel it charging the air, whenever she was with him. But it wasn't the time to argue. They had only just made up.

‘It doesn't matter. I wondered if he was your friend too.'

‘Not like you,' she answered firmly. ‘For a start, he's sane.' Ursula grinned and let go of his hand.

Dan found it impossible not to smile back. His spirits felt lighter than they had for days. His problems no longer seemed quite so insurmountable.

When they separated, Brother Frontalis gave them a very odd look. ‘I think you had both better come to the barracks and get cleaned up. I've just had word from the High King, Taliesin is sick and Arturus says we must move tomorrow.'

Chapter Nineteen

Taliesin lay insensible on a pallet in the barracks hospital. Dan approached cautiously, afraid of what he might feel from the sick man.

Ursula held Dan's hand. ‘Do you think—?'

Dan squeezed her hand. ‘I don't know.'

Ursula had a terrible sense of dread. Dan squatted down beside the old man. Taliesin was thin and the flesh of his face seemed inadequate to cover the skeletal structure, he was bone pale and scarcely breathed.

Brother Frontalis hovered around his friend, his fleshy bulk accentuating the frailty of the bard.

‘Do you know what is wrong with him?' Dan asked hesitantly. ‘Do you know if he has done anything unusual in the last few hours?'

‘If you mean, do I know if he's been practising sorcery, the answer is yes.'

‘What did he try to do?'

The Christian holy man dropped his eyes.

‘May the Lord forgive me if I have done wrong, but he asked me to stay with him while he meditated. He went into a trance, as he has done before, and I thought I saw a bird, a brown bird, a merlin falcon, fly round the room, though the shutters were closed, and then it disappeared. Taliesin had told me once that he imagined his soul to be a small swift hawk, earthbound in his ageing form. He liked to imagine that it could leave his body and soar. I wondered if he was right, if his druid soul really was a merlin falcon and if I had seen it go to its home.' Brother Frontalis looked worried. ‘But he lives yet and I do not know if I should have prevented him.'

‘Did the bird return?'

Frontalis shook his head. ‘I don't know. Taliesin has told me before to note what he says when he …' Words seemed to fail Frontalis for a moment. ‘When he does this thing – for what Taliesin the merlin knows, Taliesin the man knows also. A little while ago he mumbled something about Aelle mobilising and ships off the coast – twenty or thirty Aenglisc ships. I ran to tell the Duke, I mean the High King. He takes Taliesin's visions seriously. That's why Arturus took the decision to march at dawn. If his troops don't get to Mons Badonicus in time the Aenglisc will attack Caer-Baddon and the west will be taken. When I returned to Taliesin, not long after, he looked like this. I should not have left him. I hoped that
you might know what to do with him – it is beyond my power to save him except through prayer alone. I was on my way to fetch you – well, when I found you, er … disagreeing.'

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