The two ships held their courses for a time, and then the black ship veered suddenly towards us. In the same instant strange warriors leapt onto the platform – big men, wide-shouldered, with black hair and pale skin – screaming, jeering, brandishing spears.
'They are attacking!' shouted Bedwyr, leaping for his spear and shield.
A heartbeat later, the first enemy spears flashed up into the air. All fell short, save two-one spear glanced off the side, and the second struck the rail. Llenlleawg leaped to the rail and snatched up the spear before it fell into the sea. It was a thick, ungainly thing of scraped wood fixed to a heavy iron head, more suited to thrusting than throwing.
Gwenhwyvar took up her shield, and Cai likewise. Only Arthur remained unmoved. He stood staring at the oncoming craft while those around him armed themselves. The enemy keel slashed the waves, driving nearer. Spears flew, arcing up and falling. Fewer fell short this time; several struck the sides, and one snagged the sail.
'Arthur,' I said, 'do you mean to fight them?'
He did not reply, but stood looking at the oncoming ship, eyes narrowed against the sea-glare. Bedwyr, holding out Prydwen, urged Arthur to take it. But Arthur made no move.
'What would you have us do, Bear?' Receiving no answer, Bedwyr glanced quickly at me.
'Arthur?' I asked.
Turning from the rail at last, Arthur called to the pilot. 'Turn aside!' he ordered. 'Back to Ierne! Fly! We must warn Fergus!'
The ship veered away from the oncoming enemy ship. The enemy gave chase, but our smaller, lighter vessel steadily pulled away, increasing the distance between us. We were soon beyond spear-throw, and seeing they could not catch us, the enemy fell back and returned to their previous course.
Flying before the wind, we made for the Irish coast. 'Faster!' Arthur yelled. Though we would make landfall well ahead of the enemy, there was not an instant to spare.
Soon the coastal hills loomed before us, and we came in sight of the bay from which we had put forth. 'Saddle the horses,' Arthur commanded.
'Let us get them on land first,' Bedwyr suggested.
'Do it now.' Arthur turned to the pilot. 'Barinthus! You know the bay. Run the ship aground.'
Cai, Bedwyr and Llenlleawg saddled the horses, and they were ready to ride as we came into the bay. Barinthus did not strike the sails, but steered the craft straight towards land. I watched the shore sweeping nearer and braced myself for the collision. Not Arthur; as the keel drove into the hard shingle, Arthur swung himself into the saddle.
We struck the shingle with a tremendous crack. The rudder splintered and the mast burst its bindings. Even as the ship lurched and shuddered to a halt beneath him, Arthur lashed his mount forward. 'Hie! Hie!' he cried.
The horse lifted its forehooves and leapt over the side, plunging to the hocks in seawater. Another leap, and Arthur was clattering away up the beach. Gwenhwyvar followed Arthur's example, with Llenlleawg close behind, still clutching the enemy spear.
'Look at them,' muttered Cai, shaking his head. 'They will break their necks riding like that. They should have a care for the horses if they have none for themselves.'
Bedwyr replied from the saddle. 'Tell that to the barbarian battlechief when his spear pricks your backside.' He lashed his mount and leaped overboard with a shout. 'Hie! Yah!'
Cai followed, and I gathered my reins. As I swung into the saddle, I called to the pilot. 'I will wait for you, Barinthus.'
'Nay, lord. Do not wait for me,' the seaman replied, working to secure the loosened mast. 'I am soon finished here and will follow.'
'Make fast the boat, then, but do not linger.' I urged my mount over the side. The horse reared and plunged, splashing seawater over me. And then I was pounding over the beach. Cai had reached the cliff-track leading to Fergus' stronghold, and Bedwyr was labouring up the steep track; Arthur and the others had already disappeared.
Upon reaching the track, I paused to look back. The bay was yet empty. The enemy had not followed us to shore – likely, as we had out-raced them, they would wait to make landfall when they had the support of numbers.
By the time I reached Muirbolc, the alarm had already sounded. Everyone was rushing around: men to secure the fortress, women and children to hiding, warriors to their weapons, herdsmen to gather their cattle and bring them within the protection of the caer.
Fergus and his battlechief stood in the centre of the yard with Arthur and Gwenhwyvar before him. Gwenhwyvar, at Arthur's side, was saying, 'Listen to him, Father. There are too many. We cannot fight them here.'
'Ten shields on each side-that is at least twenty warriors in each ship, maybe more,' Arthur told him bluntly. 'And there are thirty ships-maybe more. If they make landfall here, they will be sitting in your hall before the sun sets.'
'Our only hope is to flee the caer and rally the clans,' Gwenhwyvar insisted. 'At least that way we might have a chance. We know the land and they do not. We will rally Conaire and the men of Uladh. When they learn the danger, they will not turn us away.'
Fergus pulled on his chin and frowned as he turned the matter over. 'Fergus,' Arthur said gently, 'we cannot save Muirbolc, but we can save our lives. If we stay here we will lose both.'
'Very well,' Fergus agreed reluctantly. 'I will do as you say.' He turned to his battlechief and, with a word, sent the man away. 'We must gather provisions,' the king said, turning back. 'It will take time.'
'There is no time,' said Arthur. 'We must leave at once.'
'Bad enough to abandon my stronghold,' Fergus replied. 'Skin me alive if I also abandon the treasure of our clan.'
Arthur relented, 'Then make haste. I will ride with Cai and Bedwyr to the headland to see where the enemy makes landfall.'
'I will ride with you,' Gwenhwyvar said.
'Stay here, lady,' Arthur told her. 'We will return soon."
Gwenhwyvar made to protest, but thought better of contending the matter and held her tongue. To me, Arthur said, 'You will come with me, Myrddin.'
Bedwyr, Cai, and I rode out with Arthur, and met Barinthus at the gate as he arrived. 'They did not follow us, lord,' he said.
'Remain here and keep watch,' Arthur commanded him. 'Alert Fergus if you see anything. We ride to the headland.'
We galloped along the coastal path, searching the sea below for any sign of the black ships. But we saw nothing until reaching the high bluffs of the headland. And then, as we crested the hill and the broad expanse of the sea to the north and west came into view, our hearts sank.
For, spread out upon the water all along the northern coast, were forty or more black sails, clustered thick like carrion birds on a glassy plain.
FIVE
'God help us,' said Bedwyr, gazing upon the enemy fleet.
'They are making to come ashore there,' replied Arthur, pointing to the bay farther along the coast. 'Likely they will be on foot – I saw no horses – so it will take them some little time to march inland.' He glanced at the sky. 'The sun will set before they can form a raiding party.'
'Then we have one night at least to prepare,' Cai said. 'This night only,' Arthur confirmed. Wheeling his horse, he started back down the track. Cai followed, but Bedwyr and I sat looking at the enemy ships for a moment longer.
'There must be a thousand warriors or more,' Bedwyr mused. 'I wonder how many these Kings of Uladh can command?'
'That, I very much fear, we will soon discover,' I replied gloomily.
We returned with haste to Muirbolc, where the people had begun leaving the caer; the first groups were already melting into the forest. Fergus stood at the gate as his people passed before him, urging them to courage and speed. Arthur, Gwenhwyvar, and Llenlleawg stood together in deliberation. Cai was nowhere to be seen.
Arthur raised his head and waved us to join him. At our arrival, he said, 'Bedwyr, you and Cai will stay to aid Fergus and his battlechiefs. Gwenhwyvar, Llenlleawg and I will raise the Uladh lords.'
'Someone should warn Ciaran and his brother monks,
' I pointed out. 'I will go to them.'
'If we have difficulty with the lords, I want you with me,' Arthur insisted.
'The good brothers are not far,' Gwenhwyvar said. 'We can take word to them on the way.'
'So be it.' To Bedwyr, Arthur said, 'When Cai returns from the bay, tell him what we have done.'
'If all goes well,' Gwenhwyvar added, 'we should return here before sunrise with help.'
We remounted and, bidding Fergus farewell, rode out at once. Llenlleawg led the way. We passed through a wood and crossed a stream, then reached a broad, gently sloping lea where we turned south and came after a short ride to a rough holding – little more than a field camp, where the monks had settled.
Ciaran greeted us and offered food and drink. 'God be good to you,' he said. 'We would be honoured if you will stay to sup with us.'
'Nothing would please us more,' Gwenhwyvar told him. 'But we cannot stay. We have come to warn you. There is trouble coming. Invaders have been seen. Even now they are making landfall along the northern shore not far from here.'
'Invaders.' The priest mouthed the word, but showed no fear. 'Who are they? Do you know?'
'They are a tribe I have never seen before,' Arthur told him. 'But I can tell you this: they have a fleet as large as the Emperor's, and their ships and sails are black.'
'Vandali,' said Ciaran.
'Do you know them?' I asked.
'I know of no other barbarian host to own a fleet,' the priest replied. 'They are known in Constantinople. That is where I heard about them and their black-sailed ships.'
'And did you also hear how they may be defeated?' inquired Arthur.
Ciaran shook his head slowly. 'Sadly, no. In truth, I heard that they cannot be defeated. Of all barbarians, the Vandali are the most fierce and cruel. They kill for pleasure, and possess no respect for life – neither their own nor anyone else's. They hold no thing as sacred, save their own valour, and they live only for the sport of killing and the plunder to be won with the points of their spears.' The priest paused, measuring the effect of his words. 'I would be lying if I told you that anyone could stand against them. The Vandali are feared by all who know them. Even the Goths flee them on sight.' Ciaran paused, then added, 'That is all I know. I wish I could tell you more.'
'And I would hear more, but I am grateful for this little,' Arthur replied. 'Fergus and his people are leaving the caer. If you go at once, you can join them in hiding.'
'We are going to rally the kings,' Gwenhwyvar said. 'We ride first to Conaire at Rath Mor.'
'May God go with you, my friends,' Ciaran said. Raising his hands, he blessed us with a prayer as we continued quickly on our way.
The stronghold of Conaire Crobh Rua, or Red Hand, was much the same as that of Fergus, only larger, and a great ogam-carved pillar stone stood at the entrance to the caer. His warband was accordingly larger, too, boasting five warriors to every one of Fergus' men, and no fewer than four tributary kings supported him as well. Each of these small kings maintained warriors at his own expense which Conaire could command at need.
He would be a powerful ally. Consequently, winning him was crucial to Ierne's survival.
Gwenhwyvar understood this necessity and the terrible urgency of raising a host swiftly. Upon reaching Rath Mor and finding the gate open, she rode into the caer, ignoring the shouts of the lax gatemen to stop and be recognized.
She rode straight to the hall and shouted, 'Conaire! Come out, Conaire! We must talk, you and I.'
The people heard and began hastening to us. The door to the hall was a simple white ox hide with a hand painted on it in red. The head of a man appeared from behind the skin and declared, 'The king is deaf to all demands but his own.'
'Just you tell your deaf king that he is a fool to sleep within his hall while his realm suffers invasion,' she snapped, her dark brows lowered. The head promptly disappeared. 'Did you hear that, Conaire?' she shouted.
A moment later the ox hide was thrown aside and a tall man with fair hair and a red-brown beard stalked out. A fine, handsome man, he folded his bare arms across his chest. 'Ah, Gwenhwyvar,' he said upon seeing her, 'I should have known it was you making all this tumult.' He glanced quickly at those of us accompanying the queen. 'I thought you were in Ynys Prydein. Is it to marry me that you have come here?'
Gwenhwyvar favoured him with a disdainful smile. 'Conaire Crobh Rua, I will never marry you. The man you see beside me is my husband -'
'Then you can say nothing I care to hear.' The Uladh king started back to his hall.
'My husband,' Gwenhwyvar continued, 'Arthur, High King of the Britons.'
Conaire stopped and turned. 'Indeed?' He looked Arthur up and down, and then, as if deciding he had seen nothing worth troubling himself over, dismissed Arthur with a sneer. 'I did not know the Britons had got themselves another new king,' he said. 'Now that I see him, I wonder why they bothered.'
Arthur regarded the Irish lord coolly, but without rancour. He said nothing. Gwenhwyvar, however, stiffened in the saddle; her face flushed red with anger. Yet it was the silent Llenlleawg who answered Conaire's insult.
'Your ignorance is exceeded only by your arrogance, Conaire,' he said. 'This night you must decide whether you will live or die.'
The Irish lord glared lethally at Llenlleawg. 'It seems,' he said, his voice tight with loathing, 'that I will not be alone in making that decision.'
'It will not be Llenlleawg's spear that steals the breath from your body,' Gwenhwyvar said. 'While we stand here bartering insults, the enemy invader claims our land. We have one night to make good our defence, or our realm is surely lost.'
Conaire's eyes swung slowly from Llenlleawg to Gwenhwyvar. 'What invader?' he demanded dully.
'They are of a tribe called Vandali,' Gwenhwyvar told him. 'And they have come in force to plunder Ierne.'
The Irish king drew himself full height. 'This danger can be but small, or I would have heard of it. Still, I am not surprised that Fergus has sent you to plead for him – the least sign of trouble and he comes begging my protection. Tell him I will consider the matter, and reply when it suits me.'
He made to dismiss us and turn away.
'Stay!' I roared. Holding him with the bardic voice of command, I said: 'Hear me, Lord Conaire. I have known many kings: some have been fools, and others haughty. But few have been both and outlived their imprudence.'
The proud king bristled at this. His eyes flashed quick anger. But I did not give him opportunity to speak.
'Know this: We have come here to warn you and seek your aid. You know nothing of the force arrayed against us. I tell you the truth, unless we stand together when the battle begins, not one of us will survive the onslaught.'
Conaire frowned. He fairly squirmed under my authority, but I held him with my voice. 'This is the way of it. If you doubt me, why not ride with us to the coast and see for yourself that what you have heard is no mere fancy of the fainthearted?'
The Irish lord glared murderously at me, but kept his mouth firmly shut.
'Well?' asked Gwenhwyvar. 'What say you, Conaire?'
He turned to one of those who stood looking on. 'Bring my horse,' he barked angrily. To Gwenhwyvar he said, 'I will ride with you, and see for myself. If it is as you say, I will protect you.' He allowed himself a sly, sneering smile. 'But if it is otherwise, you must deliver to me the thing that I shall demand of you.'
Conaire stared at Gwenhwyvar as he said this, and it was not difficult to guess what was in his mind as he spoke. Arthur's face darkened at the mindless provocation. Nor did I fault him. Had I been Arthur, I would have split him crown to crotch at a single stroke. But Gwenhwyvar intervened. 'Make no demands you would not wish yourself to fulfil, Conaire.'
Without a word, Conaire turned on his heel and disappeared into the hall. Gwenhwyvar allowed herself a self-satisfied smile. 'Well,' she said, 'that was better than I hoped.'
'Is this Red Hand always so agreeable?' Arthur asked.
Gwen
hwyvar answered, 'It was ever in his mind to have me for his wife. He has a wife, of course, and two cumal-wives also. But he contrives to make himself a king after the manner of Rory and Conor mac Nessa. That is why he has ever sought me to agree to marry him.'
'If his courage is half as great as his vanity,' Arthur remarked, 'then the black-sailed Vandali will soon be fleeing back over the waves as fast as the wind can carry them.'
'When the time comes for spear-play, you will not be disappointed,' Llenlleawg suggested. 'A bard with a harp does not make sweeter music.'
'This I want to see,' replied Arthur.
Conaire reappeared and, his horse having been brought, he mounted at once and led us out from the caer and along a well-worn trail through a wood. We came eventually to a low, treeless rise giving way to a series of downward-sloping ridges which ended in sharp cliffs overlooking the northwestern coast. Even before reaching the cliffside we could see the thick-sown black sails close-clustered on the sea. Many ships had already made landfall, and more were coming in with every wave; but we saw no one on shore, and no sign of horses aboard any of the boats.
'Forty ships,' observed Bedwyr. 'No more have joined them. That means they have all arrived.'
'Unless this is merely the advance force sent to spy out the land,' Cai pointed out. Both men lapsed into silence at that unsettling thought.
The Irish king stared at the spectacle before him for a long time. 'Never have I seen such an audacious invader,' he said at last. 'Such insolence incurs a heavy debt, and I mean to collect my share.'
'Well said, Conaire,' Arthur told him. 'Together, we will drive these barbarians into the sea.'
Conaire, the westering light in his eyes, turned to Arthur and looked him full in the face. 'Lord, I am a man of impulse and quick temper, as you have seen,' he said. 'I spoke without due consideration and my words were not worthy. And now I am sorry. For I think you are a very king among your kind, and it is not meet for two such noble allies to enter battle with malice between them.'
'I agree,' replied Arthur nicely. 'I think it will be toil enough to fight the Vandal horde without also bearing a heavy dislike for one another.'
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