'Earth and sky bear witness!' Bedwyr gasped when he saw the battle throng. 'Twelve hundred only? It seems twice that many at least, or I never drew sword.'
The barbarians swarmed thick across the western half of the plain in untidy clusters around standards of various kinds: some of skin, others of cloth, or metal, but all of them bearing the image of a black boar in their design. These were, I decided, their clan groupings. Like the Saecsen, the Vandali entered battle surrounded by their kinsmen, under leadership of their tribal chieftain.
Continuing on, we advanced slowly onto the plain. At our approach, a knot of barbarians drew apart from the centre mass, crossed the stream, and marched towards us. One of the chieftains carried a standard – the head and pelt of a great black boar fixed upon a pole. The boar's mouth was open, his curving yellow tusks exposed.
We proceeded to within a hundred paces of one another, whereupon the barbarian delegation stopped. 'This is far enough,' Arthur said. 'Stay here.' The war host halted, and Arthur and I rode on to meet the Vandal chiefs.
Like the others we had seen, they were big, well-muscled men; they carried the heavy wooden shield and stout black spear. Naked to the waist, they wore either leather leggings or coarse-woven cloth breeches. Their flesh was the colour of pale honey or aged parchment; and, to a man, their hair was black – they wore it long and braided thick. Several had thin moustaches over their wide mouths, but most did not; none wore a beard. Their eyes were strange – sly and narrow, slanting upwards in their broad, brutal faces, keen and wary, and set deep under heavy brows; made more mysterious by a thick band of black paint slashed across their wide cheeks.
A tall, lanky man stood with them; his skin was milk-white and his hair the colour of flax. On his neck he wore a thick iron ring, with slightly smaller bands on each wrist. Ragged scars of vicious slash marks, livid still, marked the flesh of his chest and stomach.
It was this man who addressed us, speaking in our own tongue. 'In the name of Amilcar, War King of the Vandal nations, we greet you,' he said. 'It is Amilcar's war host you see before you; it is by his hand that you are alive this day.'
By way of reply, Arthur said, 'It is not my custom to exchange greetings with any who threaten war against me or those I have sworn to protect.'
The tall man replied with benign indifference. 'I understand, lord.' Touching his neck ring he said, 'I am often made to bear tidings others find offensive.'
'Since you are a slave, I will assume that the words you speak are not your own. Therefore, I hold no enmity towards you.' The slave said nothing, but inclined his head slightly, giving us to know that Arthur understood his predicament aright. 'What is your name, friend?'
'I am Hergest,' he said. 'And though I am a slave, I am a learned man.'
'As you are a Latin speaker,' Arthur said, 'are you also a holy man?'
'I own no king but the Lord Christ, High King of Heaven,' Hergest answered proudly. 'Formerly, I was a priest. The barbarians burned our church and killed our bishop along with many of our brothers. The rest were made slaves. I alone survive.'
At this, the slave lifted his hand as if presenting the barbarian company to us. Instead, he said, 'You may speak freely. They understand no tongue but their own.'
'Have you been long with them?' I asked.
'It is three years since I was taken,' Hergest replied.
'You must have proven your value to them many times over,' I observed.
'Indeed,' replied the slave, 'I must prove it anew with every day that passes, for I know I will not outlive my usefulness by so much as a single breath.'
One of the big-shouldered barbarians grew impatient with the talk and grunted something to Hergest, who answered him in his own tongue. 'Ida says you must come down from your mount if you are to speak to him.' Hergest paused, allowing himself the shadow of a smile. 'They fear horses greatly.'
'Tell him,' Arthur replied calmly, patting the horse's neck, 'that I will come down from my mount, but only to speak to one of my own rank and authority.'
'Arthur!' I whispered. 'Have a care!'
The slave started. 'Arthur?' he asked in surprise. 'You are Artorius – also called the Bear of Britain?'
'I am known by that name,' Arthur answered; indicating the staring barbarian, he replied, 'Now tell them what I said.'
Hergest repeated Arthur's refusal to dismount and, to my surprise, the barbarian simply nodded, conceding the situation with placid acceptance. He and several others began discussing the matter between them. One of them-who seemed to be the youngest of the chieftains – spoke earnestly to Hergest, who pointed at Arthur and gravely intoned the words 'Artorius Rex! Imperator!' The chieftain called Ida cast a dubious sidelong glance at Arthur, then turned abruptly and began striding across the plain to where the horde waited.
'That was well done, lord,' Hergest told us. 'They wished only to make certain that you were a king worthy of treating with their own leader. Mercia here' – he nodded to the young chieftain – 'thinks that because you are young like him you must be a warrior of little worth or consequence. I assured them that you were greater even than the Emperor of Rome.'
Arthur smiled, 'You might have restrained your enthusiasm for my sake. Still, I will try not to make you out a liar.'
The barbarian chieftain had reached the battle host. He addressed someone there, and then turned and pointed at us. A moment later, a figure emerged from the mass and walked towards us. The first chieftain fell into step behind this person, with two standard-bearers on either side.
The man was even taller than those around him – a champion of imposing stature, with wide, heavy shoulders, a powerful back, and thick-muscled limbs. Like those around him, he watched us with quick, intelligent dark eyes, above high cheekbones – all but obscured beneath a wide band of black paint. A thick moustache flowed over fleshy lips, and a long, black, double braid hung over one shoulder. In his right hand he carried a slender iron rod with the image of a boar in hammered gold at its top.
At his approach, the other barbarians moved aside, each man striking his chest with the flat of his hand as his lord passed. He came to stand before us, whereupon Arthur dismounted.
Hergest, standing between them, said something in the guttural speech of the Vandali, then turned to Arthur and said, 'Lord Arthur, the man you see before you is Amilcar, War King of Hussa, Rogat, and Vandalia.'
The barbarian king raised his iron rod and placed his left hand upon the golden boar. He grunted something to Hergest, but his eyes never left Arthur's.
'As you are called the Bear of Britain,' the slave explained, 'the mighty Amilcar desires that you shall call him by the name his enemies have learned to fear.'
'What is that?' asked Arthur.
'Twrch Trwyth,' answered Hergest. 'Black Boar of the Vandali.'
EIGHT
'Why are you here?' Arthur asked, his voice calm and steady as his gaze.
The slave Hergest spoke Arthur's words to the Vandal king, who replied impassively. 'Twrch would have you know,' related the slave, 'that he has heard of the deeds of the British Bear and has given command that your realm should not be destroyed at this time. For the Black Boar is also a mighty war leader and it is a sorrowful waste of wealth when two such champions fight.'
Amilcar spoke some more, and Hergest continued. 'Twrch asks you to consider his elation when he learned the Bear of Britain was here.'
'It is difficult to imagine,' Arthur replied amiably. 'Tell Twrch Trwyth that I am waiting to hear why he has seized land belonging to another.'
'He has taken land for his camps – nothing more.'
'Does he intend to stay?'
Hergest consulted the barbarian warlord and answered, 'Twrch says he intends to plunder the land until he has enough wealth to continue his journey.'
'Does his journey have a destination?' I asked the learned slave.
'We have come from Carthage,' Hergest explained. 'The Emperor of Great Constantine's city sent soldiers to banish
the Boar and his people from the land they have held for many generations. So now they search for another home. However, their departure was made in haste and they came away with nothing; thus they require wealth to continue the search.'
'I see,' replied Arthur. 'And does he expect this wealth to be given to him?'
The Boar King and his slave conversed a moment, whereupon Hergest answered, 'Twrch says that in honour of your renown and the great esteem in which he holds you, he will not kill you and ravage this weakly defended island – a deed he could easily perform since the vast number of warriors you see before you are but the smallest part of his war host, and more are coming here even now. Twrch says it is a very great gift he offers you. In return for this kindness, he expects you to make a gift of equal value. For he has vowed to destroy both Eiru and the Isle of Britons unless you grant his desire.'
Arthur stared implacably at the massive battlechief. 'What is his desire?'
Hergest turned to Amilcar and conveyed Arthur's question. The barbarian replied with a grunt.
'Everything,' Hergest reported. 'He says you must give him all.'
To his everlasting credit, Arthur allowed the Vandal chief no support for his greed, nor any hope that it would be rewarded. Neither did he provoke the barbarian with an outright refusal. He turned his eyes to the sky as if pondering the inconstant clouds.
'As you know, these lands are not under my authority,' replied Arthur at last. 'I could not give you a grain of sand or blade of grass, much less anything else. I know a man of your rank will understand this.'
He paused to allow his words to be translated for the Boar King. When Hergest turned back to him, Arthur said, 'Therefore, I will take your demand to those who hold authority over this realm – though I do not believe they will grant it.'
Arthur's reply was delivered with such confidence and dignity, the Boar King could not but agree. 'Take my demand to the rulers of this realm,' Amilcar conceded through Hergest. 'If, when the sun stands over the battleground, I have not heard their reply, then I will attack and you will all be killed like dogs.'
'Well,' I observed, as we rode slowly back to the waiting battle host together, 'we have gained a span of time at least. Let us use it wisely.'
'Was he telling the truth, do you suppose?' wondered Arthur. 'Does he really have more warriors on the way?"
'Difficult to say,' I replied. 'No doubt we shall see.'
I expected Conaire and the Irish lords to greet the Vandal's demand with the contempt it deserved, and I was not disappointed.
'Everything?' Conaire hooted. 'I say they will have not so much as the breath in their nostrils when we have finished. Let the battle begin at once. They will get nothing from my hand but the sharp end of a spear.'
'It is not what you will give them,' Arthur said. 'It is what the enemy has given us.'
'He has given us nothing but the outrage of his assault! Must we also endure the insult of his absurd demands?' Conaire glared at Arthur and at me.
'Why, the Vandal battlechief has given us the victory this day,' Arthur replied. 'For he has allowed us to determine how the battle will proceed. And I tell you, that is worth the small insult.'
We began discussing how best to make use of the boon we had been granted. Conaire grew impatient with the talk. 'This makes no sense,' he complained. 'We have horses and they do not. I say we attack them and ride them down when they flee. We all know they will not stand before our horses.'
Bedwyr put him straight. 'With all respect, Lord Conaire, there are too many of them. While we attacked one warband, the others would quickly surround us. It is four of them to every one of us, mind. We would soon find ourselves unable to move at all – horses or no.'
'Then let us form the line,' Conaire suggested. 'We will charge them and drive them back to the sea with the points of our spears.'
'Nay, lord,' Cai replied. 'Our force would be spread too thin; we could not sustain the line. They would have only to sever it in one or two places to separate us. Once divided, they would easily overwhelm us.'
'What, then?' demanded the Irish king, his brittle patience shattering at last.
'As you rightly say, they fear nothing more than our horses,' Arthur told him. 'If we hold to the course I will devise, that fear will become a weapon we can wield against them.'
At once, Arthur began ordering the fight. In full view of the enemy, we laid our battle plan while the Black Boar stood looking on, waiting, the sun rising higher and hotter all the while. When he had finished, Arthur said, 'I will speak with Twrch Trwyth now. While we are together you will lead your warbands into position.'
'But they will see us,' Fergus suggested. 'Would it not be best to surprise them?'
'Another day, perhaps,' replied Arthur. 'This day I would have them ponder their predicament and let foreboding grow within them.'
Arthur and I returned to where the Vandal battlechiefs waited. Amilcar, not at all happy to be made to stand idle while we talked at length, scowled at us. Arthur did not dismount, but spoke to him from the saddle, making the Boar King squint into the sun.
He growled something at us, and Hergest said, 'Amilcar demands to know your answer.'
'The lords of Ierne say that you shall have nothing from them but the sharp end of the spear,' Arthur replied.
Hergest smiled at this, and relayed Arthur's words to his master, who glowered even more fiercely. 'Then you will all be killed," the Vandal said through his slave. 'Your settlements and strongholds will be burned and your women and children slaughtered; your treasure will be carried off, and your grain and cattle also. When we have finished, not even your name will remain.'
When Hergest finished, the Vandal lord added, 'I know these are not your people. And though you have refused my gift, I will yet extend my hand to you, Bear of Britain. Join with me, you and your men. Two such mighty war leaders in alliance could win much plunder.'
'I care little for war, and less for plunder. Thus, I cannot accept your offer,' Arthur answered. 'Yet, for the sake of those who own you lord, I will make you an offer in return: take your men and go back to your ships. Leave this island as you found it, taking nothing with you but the sand that clings to the soles of your feet.'
'If I do this, what will I receive?'
'If you do as I say, you will receive the Bear of Britain's blessing. Further, I will bid the priests of my realm to make heartfelt prayer to the High King of Heaven, who is my lord, to forgive any crimes you have committed in coming here.'
Amilcar recoiled at the suggestion. 'Can I fill my treasure house with these prayers?' he sneered. 'Who is this lord of yours that I should heed him? Your offer is a mockery, and worthy only of contempt.'
'So you say,' Arthur replied equably. 'Even so, I do not withdrawn.'
Just then, one of the Vandal chiefs attending Twrch grunted at him, calling his attention to the movement of our warriors. The Boar King turned to see our force divide itself in three-a main body with two smaller wings to the right and left; these advanced, and the central body withdrew so that it was well behind the protecting wings.
Amilcar barked a stream of commands and questions to his chieftains. They answered with shrugs and worried looks, whereupon he turned to Arthur. 'What is this?' he demanded, speaking through Hergest. 'Why do you array yourselves for battle in this way?'
'This is to help you understand,' Arthur replied, 'that we mean to defend our land and people. If you would steal from us, you must be ready to die.' These last words were spoken with the cold certainty of the tomb.
The Vandal king's face darkened. His eyes narrowed. He looked again at the odd battle formation. He spoke a few words to Hergest, then turned and walked back to his waiting horde. 'Lord Twrch says that he has talked enough. From this day, he is deaf to all entreaties. Expect no mercy – none will be granted.'
We sat our horses and watched the Vandal chiefs withdraw. Arthur waited until they had almost reached the stream and rejoined their warbands, and then: 'Yah!'
He slapped his mount and raced towards them. They turned to the sound of hooves, saw the horse thundering down upon them, and scattered. Arthur swerved at the last moment and snatched away the boar's head standard from the grasp of the astonished Vandal holding it.
None of the enemy knew what had happened until Arthur was already galloping away again. He rode out of spear-throw, stopped and lofted the standard. 'Here is your god!' he shouted at them. Then, slowly, so that every eye would see and there could be no question of his intent, he lowered the standard and drove it head first into the ground.
The Vandali did not take this desecration calmly. As the boar's head touched the earth, an enraged cry went up. But Arthur ignored them and, turning serenely away, rode back to where our warriors waited, leaving the boar's head standard in the dirt behind him. The enemy roared the louder.
'That was well done!' cried Fergus as we rejoined them.
'Hoo!' cheered Conaire. 'By Lugh's right hand, you are a rascal, Lord Arthur!" He gestured with his spear towards the Vandal host. 'Listen to them! Oh, they are angry with you!'
'But do you think it wise to provoke them so?' wondered Gwenhwyvar.
'It is worth the risk, I think,' answered Arthur. 'How else could I be certain they would be drawn to the centre?'
'It is a good ploy,' I told him. 'Let us hope it works.'
The infuriated enemy did not wait to be further disgraced. They loosed a resounding shout and rushed forward, splashing across the stream. They came in a reckless, heedless swarm, running into battle.
It had been a long time since I sat a horse in battle. I had vowed never to fight again, but I felt the sword hilt in my hand, and the old familiar thrill quivered through my spine. Well, it would do no harm to fight today, I reckoned; besides, every blade was desperately needed. Thus, without considering the consequences, I found myself in the forerank of the battle host.
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