Pendragon pc-4

by Stephen R. Lawhead

  We gallopped straight up the slope. Upon gaining the crest, I discovered it to be but a shoulder of a higher hill, the upper portions of which were still mist-wrapped and obscure. The stag turned and began running easily along this wide, grassy shoulder, which itself rose as it climbed to meet the ridge to the west.

  As I wheeled my mount to follow the others, I saw a movement at the forest's edge below. I glanced back to the lowlands we had just quitted. Two figures on horseback and a dog had cleared the trees and were driving up the slope for all they were worth. I had no need to look a second time; I knew them for Arthur and Cai, a single hound between them. I paused to allow them to join us.

  'He is ours!' cried Arthur when he caught me up.

  'We saw him first!' Cai informed me. 'We have been on the scent since fording the river.'

  Both boys glared at me as if I had conspired to steal their manhood. The dog circled us, yapping, impatient, the scent of the stag rich and heavy in his nostrils.

  'Peace, brothers,' I told them. 'No doubt you crossed his scent some way back. But it appears we have sighted him before you.'

  'Unfair!' hollered Cai. 'He is ours!'

  'As to that,' I told him, 'the prize belongs to the man who makes the kill. And that prize is making good his escape while we stand here flapping our tongues at one another.'

  'Truly!' cried Arthur, whirling in the saddle to view the track ahead. His eyes followed the shoulder of the slope, then travelled up the scree-strewn rise on the right. 'This way!' he shouted, lashing his horse to speed once more.

  Cai threw a menacing glance at me and bounded after Arthur. 'Wrong way!' I called after them, but they were already beyond hearing. I watched them for a moment and then set about catching Pelleas and Ectorius.

  I found them a short while later in a sheltered upland cove filled with gorse and briar. I could not see Ruddlyn, although I could hear the dogs baying close by. 'The beast has vanished,' declared Ectorius as I reined in. 'Took my eyes from him for a blink and he is gone.'

  'The hounds will raise the scent again,' Pelleas offered. 'He cannot have gone far.'

  'Na, we cannot have lost him,' Ectorius said. 'We will have the kill.'

  'Not if Arthur and Cai have their way,' I replied.

  'How so?' Ectorius wondered in surprise.

  'I met them on the trail back there. They have been tracking the stag as well. They claim they saw him first.'

  Ectorius laughed and shook his head. 'God love them, the whole forest to hunt and they strike upon our beast. Well, they will have to kill it if they hope to claim it.'

  'That is what I told them,' I replied.

  'Where have they gone?' asked Pelleas, looking behind me.

  'Arthur led them up the slope to higher ground.'

  'It is all rocks and brambles,' Ectorius pointed out. 'There is no cover at all up there. The rascals should know better.'

  Ruddlyn returned to us on the run, his broad face sweaty. He had leashed the dogs once more and they pulled at the close-held traces. 'Stag was not in there,' he puffed, indicating the gorse-filled hollow behind, 'though he has been. There is scent everywhere, we could get no clear mark.'

  'He must have jumped off the track at the bend,' said Ectorius.

  'Oh, aye, could be that,' agreed the huntsman. 'A canny creature, he is. We must backtrack as we can go no farther from here.'

  We rode back along the trail, keeping the dogs on a short leash until they could raise a fresh scent. And at the place Ectorius suggested, we crossed the stag's path once more. The dogs began howling and strained to the trail; it was all Ruddlyn could do to keep them from scrambling up the sheer sides of the hill.

  'Is this the way Arthur and Cai went?' asked Ectorius.

  'Yes,' I told him, 'but I met them back there a little, where it is not so steep.'

  'That makes three canny creatures,' observed Pelleas.

  'It seems we will have to follow the lads,' replied Ectorius. 'God knows we cannot climb this. We will but break our bones in trying.'

  'Show us the place,' Ruddlyn called, already retreating down the shoulder trail. I wheeled my horse and rode to the spot where I had last seen Arthur and Cai.

  'They started the climb here!' I called and, turning my mount off the trail, began the ascent. It was hard riding to gain the top, and once up the way did not become easier. It was, as Ectorius had said, all rock and briar thickets. The sheer stone cliffs of the ridge loomed above, and loose scree lay all around, making riding difficult. I dismounted and waited for the others.

  'We will have to go on foot from here,' Ectorius observed, swinging down from the saddle. 'We dare not risk the horses.'

  'Which way did they go?' wondered Pelleas. He scanned the high crags above us, all black and shining slick with the mist that seeped and spread around them. There was no sign of the boys.

  Just then, one of the dogs gave voice and started jerking on its lead, haunches straining, head low over the track. 'This way!' shouted Ruddlyn. With a sharp whistle, he gathered the hounds before him and they trotted away once more.

  We each snatched two spears from behind our saddles and hurried away. The ground was indeed rough with rock, the rubble made slippery by the mist and rain. I tucked the spears under my arm and jogged along as quickly as possible over the treacherous terrain.

  The hounds led us into a narrow defile leading between two humps of stone like misshapen pillars. This passage opened onto a narrow gorge that rose at its end to meet the ridge above. I glanced towards the far end of the gorge and saw, galloping up the scree-covered slope, Cai and Arthur-the stag in full flight just ahead. Even as I watched, the stag cleared the crest and disappeared from view over the top.

  Ectorius and Ruddlyn saw them in the same instant. Ectorius shouted for the boys to wait for us, but they were too far away and could not hear him. 'The young fools will kill themselves!' shouted Ectorius. 'And the horses, too!'

  There was nothing to be done but press on as quickly as possible, and that we did.

  The slope at the end of the gorge was much steeper than it appeared from a distance. Climbing it on foot was difficult enough. I do not know how Arthur and Cai managed it on horseback.

  The ridge formed a natural causeway between the steep rock slopes falling away on either hand, running east to west. In the lowlands behind us, the forest appeared a dark, rumpled pelt with Caer Edyn rising a little above it some distance away.

  The mist was heavier here, the clouds more dense. Water formed on my brow and ran down the sides of my neck. Despite the chill air of the heights, I was sweating and my clothes were wet; only my feet were dry.

  The hounds led us east along the ridgeway, and we followed – our pace slower now as fatigue began to gnaw at us. Even Ruddlyn's ground-eating strides became slower, though he pushed on relentlessly.

  The ridgeway snaked along – as uneven and perilous a killing field as I have seen. We ran. The track lifted slightly beneath our feet and ahead loomed a bare granite mound, lifting like a shattered head, blocking the ridgeway. To the right rose a cracked and fissured curtain of stone; to the left, a sheer plunge to a broken ledge below. Directly ahead were Arthur and Cai and the stag.

  This is what I saw:

  Arthur sits tense in the saddle, head down, shoulders square, spine rigid. The spear is gripped in his right hand. Well I know the strength of that grip! Cai is beside him a few paces away, spear levelled. Both are staring at the stag, breathing hard.

  The stag – what a champion! He is even larger than I first thought – fully as large as a horse. Cornered, he has turned at last to meet his pursuers, and stands facing them, head erect, his sleek sides heaving. Blood-flecked foam streams from his muzzle. The rack of his antlers spreads like the branches of a weathered oak – eighteen points if one.

  Oh, he is a prize!

  Cai's black hound is circling, barking savagely. The dog seizes an opening and attacks. The stag wheels and lowers its head. The dog yelps and tries to jump away,
but is caught and speared by the antlers, and is tossed lightly aside to die on the rocks.

  At this we begin running forward. We approach, but Ruddlyn halts us. 'Stop!' he calls. 'Let the hounds do their work!'

  He is thinking that it is too dangerous. If we rush in the stag may charge one or the other of the boys and they could be killed. Instead, he will loose the hounds and they will surround the stag, harry it, and wear down its strength.

  Then, when they have wearied the beast and taken some of the fight out of him, we will close in with our spears to make the kill. It is brutal, yes. But this is how it is done with a cornered beast. Any other way is deadly dangerous.

  Loosed, the dogs raise a rattling yelp as they fly.

  But the stag is an old warrior. The wily creature does not wait to be set upon by hounds. He lowers his head and charges!

  I see the head tilt down… the feet planted… shoulders bunching… flanks tightening… hindquarters lowering as the back legs begin churning, driving the animal forward.

  The lethal rack slices the air as it sweeps towards Arthur.

  Cai shouts.

  And Arthur…

  Arthur cradles the spear. He holds it like a fragile reed now.

  His eyes are hard and level. He is as unflinching as the death hurtling towards him.

  But his mount is not. The animal shies, wheeling at the last instant. Arthur jerks the reins hard to bring the animal round, but it is too late.

  The stag throws his head low, the points of the antlers rake the ground… then up!… Up like a Saecsen blade thrust deep into the horse's belly.

  The wounded animal screams in agony and terror. The stag is shaking his head. His antlers are caught. The horse is scrambling to keep its legs. Arthur's knee is pinned against the side of his mount. He cannot leap free of the saddle.

  Blood is everywhere.

  The dogs race to the kill, but they are too far away. They will not come in time.

  The horse falls. It is rolling over, its eyes wide and nostrils flared, its legs churning, hoofs lashing wildly at the air. Oh, Arthur! Arthur is stuck there. Help him!

  The stag pulls free. He rears back, forehoofs raking in the air. The head angles down to plunge those deadly tines into the enemy struggling on the ground.

  Arthur's spear is wedged beneath the horse's flank.

  I am running to him. I gasp for breath. I cry out because I cannot run fast enough to save him.

  The stag towers over Arthur… seems to hang there poised.

  The stag lunges.

  The sky cracks wide open and sunlight suddenly spills onto the causeway in a brilliant flood. The light is dazzling. I blink.

  I look again to see Arthur's body pierced by the stag's antlers…

  But no. His arm flashes up. He has a knife. The sunlight strikes the blade and it flares like a firebrand in his hand. The stag veers, plunging its rack into the hindquarters of the helpless horse.

  Arthur swings his arm, aiming for the stag's throat. He cannot reach it. The blow goes wide and strikes the beast's shoulder as it worries the wound deeper into the feebly thrashing horse.

  The stag pulls back to strike the killing blow. Cai heaves his spear, but it falls short and glances off the deer's rump.

  Arthur twists on the ground and kicks free of his helpless mount. We are screaming now to distract the stag. We are shouting to burst our lungs. The first of the dogs reaches the stag.

  The stag turns on the hounds, scattering them. Arthur struggles to his knees, Cai's spear in his hand. The stag turns on Arthur.

  I see them: stag and boy, regarding one another across the distance of a few paces; a short spear throw separates them, no more. The dogs nip at the stag's flanks. He turns and catches one of the hounds and flings it aside, then gathers himself for the last attack.

  Arthur braces himself. His spear does not waver.

  Desperate, Ectorius launches a spear. It falls heartbreakingly short, iron tip striking sparks as it skids away across the rocks. He readies another. We are almost within range.

  The dogs surround the stag, but the Forest Lord has fixed his eye on Arthur.

  'Run!' Pelleas cries. 'Arthur! Run!'

  The stag gathers his legs beneath him and charges, the powerful hind legs churning, driving towards Arthur.

  'Run!' we shout. But it is too late. The stag is already hurtling straight at Arthur once again. The boy cannot turn to run or he will be impaled upon the antlers.

  Arthur stands his ground, crouching, fearless, spear ready.

  The stag closes swiftly – he is so fast!

  Now! I throw my spear with all my strength and watch it slide uselessly under the legs of the onrushing deer. Ectorius lofts his one remaining spear.

  In the same moment the stag simply lifts his hoofs and sails lightly over the crouching Arthur, and runs to the edge of the cliff. Arthur is already racing after the beast.

  The Forest Lord pauses on the edge of the precipice, gathers its legs and leaps. What a wonder! It leaps over the cliff and we all dart to the place, thinking to see the proud animal battered as it plunges to its death on the rocks below.

  Arthur turns wide eyes towards us as we run to him. He thrusts out a finger and I look where he is pointing.

  I see the stag – sliding, leaping, running, flying down the cliff face to the ledge below. The beast tumbles sprawling onto the ledge, rolls to his feet and then, head held high, trots away to safety without so much as a backward glance. He is free.

  It comes to us slowly what has happened.

  'Arthur, are you hurt?' I demand, taking the boy by the shoulders and gazing at him intently.

  Arthur shakes his head. He is disappointed rather than frightened. 'I could have taken him,' he says. 'I was ready.'

  'Son, he would have killed you,' Ectorius says in a small, awed voice. 'It is a true miracle that you are alive.' He shakes his head in amazement at Arthur's still-unshaken courage.

  Cai frowns. He is angry that the stag has escaped. 'The dogs ruined it. We had him.'

  Ruddlyn has gathered the dogs and is hurrying to us. 'He had ye, young buck!' the huntsman snorts, showing his contempt for Cai's assessment. 'Never think otherwise. That King o' the Glen was your master from the start. It is a wonder the both of you still tread the land of the living.'

  At this, Arthur bows his head. Is he crying?

  No. When he raises his eyes once more they are clear and dry. 'I am sorry, Lord Ectorius. I have lost the horse you gave me.'

  'Fret not the loss of the horse, lad. It is only a horse, God love you.' Ectorius shakes his head again.

  'I will do better next time,' vows Arthur. The steel in his voice could shear hard leather.

  'You will,' I promise him, 'but not this day. The hunt is over for you.'

  Arthur opens his mouth to protest, but I will not hear it. 'Return to the caer and contemplate the gift you have been given this day. Go now – you and Cai together.'

  They do not like it, but they do as they are told. They mount Cai's horse and ride off. While Ruddlyn buries the two dead dogs, we unsaddle Arthur's dead mount and, lugging the extra tack, return to our horses. No one says a word; even the dogs are quiet.

  None of us, not even Ruddlyn, is certain what to make of what we have witnessed. It seems best not to speak, so we hold our tongues. But there is wonder in our souls. There is no doubt that we have seen a marvel – more perhaps, a sign.

  Its fulfilling would follow in due season. I did not know what it meant at the time, but I know now. It was God's saining witness to Arthur's sovereignty, and a portent of the trial to come. For one day I would see that same young man make the same desperate stand against a great and terrible adversary wielding swift and certain death. And on that day Arthur would become immortal.

  BOOK TWO

  THE BLACK BOAR

  ONE

  The days draw down; they dwindle and run away. See how swiftly they scatter! But not a single day passes that I do not recall with pleasure
the kingmaking of Arthur ap Aurelius. And because he was Aurelius' son – despite whatever ignorant slanderers may say – I strove to give him the same crowntaking as his father.

  You will excuse me if I say nothing of that long season of strife we endured at the hands of certain southern lords and lordlings, or the fierce battles with the Saecsen that followed. More than enough has been written about those war-wasted years – even small children know the tales by heart. I will say only that after seven years of incessant fighting, Arthur broke the back of the barbarian host at Baedun Hill: a fearsome battle, lasting three days and costing lives in the very thousands. This, and Arthur not yet king!

  I was there, yes. I saw it all, and still I saw nothing: I was blind from my encounter with Morgian. Some little time before Baedun, you will recall, I had left the war host and travelled south, determined to break the power of the Queen of Air and Darkness for once and all. Dread Morgian was at that time beginning to take an interest in Arthur's deeds and I could not stand by and watch her spinning her evil schemes around the future High King of Britain.

  I went alone, telling no one. Pelleas, following me, was lost and never returned – may the Gifting God grant him mercy. I know Morgian killed him. She all but killed me as well. Bedwyr and Gwalcmai found me in Llyonesse, and brought me back: blind, but unbeaten, having cleared the way for Arthur's sovereignty. And that day was not far off.

  After the bloodbath of Baedun, as terrible in necessity as in execution, we retreated to nearby Mailros Abbey to rest and give thanks for the victory we had won. Though the abbey was yet little more than a ruin, the good brothers had returned and were even then beginning repairs. As it was nearest Baedun – indeed, within sight of that blood-drenched, double-humped hill – Arthur chose it as the place to offer his prayers of thanksgiving.

  We stayed two days and then, having bound our wounds, continued up the Vale of Twide to Caer Edyn, where Lord Ectorius, his great heart bursting with pride, hosted a feast such as few men ever enjoy. For three days and three nights we sat at table, eating and drinking, healing our battle-bruised hearts and souls in the company of true men.