“Arthur!”
Both Igraine and Gwyddion expressed their shock at my words.
“Oh, do not worry. You both know that I am not a child slayer. I only used this threat to keep the men honest. Of course they themselves would be run through immediately if they were to cross me... I am counting on their not doing so.
“I recognized, on that moment, that these Ships should us well to trick the Teutons.
“We have completely outfitted these three ships and have copied every contrivance that we have ever seen on other Teutonic vessels. We found that we must replace one main sail on the Boar’s head ship, and so, painted it in typical Saxon colours, complete with their knot work and standards. Now they are fit to sail and will be awaiting our arrival at the expected site of battle.
“As to the site of battle, I have had an itching in my stomach and in the back of my neck that their whole clever plan is to confuse everyone by spreading rumours that they will invade in the South. But you see, the rumours are too wide spread to have allowed them a surprise attack. Their Commanders are ruthless and passionate but they are not stupid!
“First we heard that they would invade from the East Coast going up the River Witham to anchor near a great mound called Baddon Hill, at the site of Lindum, in the old Briton Kingdom of Lindes. Next we heard intelligence that they would try the daring venture of navigating the Southern tip of our main Isle and then Northward, coming inland to Aquae Sulis via the Afon.
“Either would indeed have been a good site for a battle. The very name of Lindum leaves much room for conjecture. For, as we know, in the tongue of the Clans ‘lindo’ means ‘pool,’ and dd is sometimes pronounced as the Teutons pronounce ‘th’ and so the ‘dd,’ as in Baddon Hill, could also refer to Baths – such as are in Aquae Sulis. There is also a pool in Lindum made by the River’s end. However the pool might also refer to the pools made by their many Springs. In fact, at the settlement atop Baddon Hill, the old public Baths, which the Romans had built, can still be visited. However, unlike the baths in Aquae Sulis, they are not still usable, having fallen into rubble. This ruse would have been very clever – had it worked. For because of this linguistic confusion I would have had to leave half of my army at Aquae Sulis and half at Lindum to be sure to protect both areas.
“As you know, traitorous ones who deal in espionage for gold are always to be found. We, of course, have paid the price to them, to even the score with those of our enemy’s purchase. We trust the joke will be on them.”
I raised my flagon... “Hail to the spies!
“According to the latest information received by our spies, all of the Teutonic alliance’s long boats will in fact be anchoring far to the North in the shallows of the Eastern Sea, hidden behind the ragged cliffs of Alba, in the territory of the Votadini. Through this same espionage I have also learned that this attack will be lead by Cerdic the Saxon, acting as Superior Commander of the combined Teutonic forces in collusion with Osla the Angle, Cissa the Saxon, and Aesc the Jute – all of whom hold great ambitions of creating their own Kingdoms upon our lands, which they would conquer, plunder, and claim.
“In my thinking, they plan first to invade – then conquer – Alba and all those who therein dwell so as to confiscate their lands, thereby effectively splitting our alliance in two. After that they would invade the Southeast of our main Island as so many of their predecessors have done.”
I took another drink of my Watered wine. I grimaced slightly – for last Night had been one of Those Nights spent carousing with Bedwyr and my head ached with a mighty ache. What a fine way to begin this Day.
“They are grossly mistaken if these are indeed their plans – for our ships will be waiting – anchored and hidden within the many coves that are out of sight from the main body of the Eastern Sea. When the hour is right our three confiscated ships will mingle into the midst of the Teutonic Fleet. Our Seamen will have to be cautious to go unnoticed by those aboard the other Ships.
“The trick is for us to know by then exactly where the enemy ships will beach so that by the Time our boats have reached the proper location and have melded into the Teutonic fleet, our land forces will already be there waiting.
“This Time we will have our best Archers behind enemy forces – at the Water’s edge. The way in which I have planned to accomplish placing them at the shoreline is this: I will place forty of my Archers within each of our three vessels. Fifteen will remain aboard the boats, dressed in Saxon clothing. However, the ones who go ashore will be outfitted in total black, so as to go unseen. After they have stealthily waded to the shore and are well in place and yet un-noticed, our second group of Archers – those remaining aboard our ships – will be ready with pitch-dipped arrows. At the foreordained signal they will set them alight and let fly to burn as many of the enemy’s fleet as they can. Then our camouflaged Archers – waiting upon the shore to the rear of the enemy troops, will let fly their Death-birds into the enemy ranks. This will synchronize with the first war cries. But this, although it should prove very effective and a great surprise to our enemies, is not the whole of my plan.
“Quickly after they have set the enemy long boats aflame, our Ships will flee Southward, planning for a cold North Wind to billow their sails as quickly as the messages of Mercury – or the lightning flashes of Thor.”
I laughed...
“Gwyddion, I am counting on you to Weather-Spell the North Wind into Her dance at the good and proper Time. I am also counting upon the enemy’s never suspecting that – or how – we have done this.
“You see, always do the continental North-men employ the same configuration of battle lines. They keep the few mounted, noble Warrior forces they have to the very rear. In front of these stand their helmed and chain-mailed Gedriht, who are the personal followers of the Chief Battle Commander and are sworn to die with him. These carry long spears and some of them have long slashing swords. In the front line are the Foot Warriors, carrying swords, axes, hammers, and long pikes. On one side-flank are a small band of unfortunates; the untrained men and women of the peasant troops, called Fyrdmen – farmers and Goat herders fighting with rakes and shovels or wooden axes, hoping to win a plot of land for themselves upon our Sunny shores. Fortunately they are few, because there is little room on the Teutonic long boats. These Fyrdmen, at the call, run towards their enemy – being used as a distraction to the enemy’s forward push. Then the Northmen’s few Archers, kneeling to the rear of the peasant lines and hopefully just out of range of the opposition’s arrows, step up and let fly – killing many of their own who are in their way. Only when their Archers have spent their arrows do the bulk of their mighty Warriors – men and women – the Berserkers and the Gedriht – run to the clash. They will then send their few excellently trained, armored, and weaponed Mounted Nobles into the fray, followed perhaps by their Commanders. This is their standard battle procedure. Because we know that they always use these tactics, we are assured that that my plan will be effective.”
I took another sip of my wine – my stomach souring all the more with my every draught.
“Remember my Dream of Loki and Sol and of the wager lost – that which prompted me to have all of our Long Shields polished? Well, on the morning of the battle, the Sun, rising in the East, will not be in our black-garbed, hidden Archer’s eyes – as would it be in a usual defense from the inland side, for as I have said, they will have snuck up behind and therefore to the East of the enemy lines.
“Now, you may be thinking: ‘But neither will the Sun be in our enemy’s eyes – for they will be facing our inland forces towards the West, with their backs to the rising sun…’ and this is true. However, just as the first rays of the Sun rise above the horizon, my Shield Bearers – who will be hiding behind great boulders – will have positioned themselves in a double row, front line in a kneeling position, with the second line holding their shields above the first – thereby forming a solid wall of mirrored bronze to catch and reflect the blazing Sun’s bri
lliance back into the eyes of the enemy. We, being above them on a Hill, will easily be able to angle this reflective wall into perfect position to blind them. Gwyddion, you and I will calculate the Geometry of the needed angle upon our arrival at the site.
“As Loki said... ‘What danger thou cans’t see, thou cans’t defend thyself against.’
“If all goes well, their Mounted and Foot Warriors will become completely disoriented – what with Sol blazing at them from the West, Fire raging amoungst their treasured Fleet in the Sea behind them, and arrows assaulting them from behind. With their Horses standing together in tightly ranked lines, it will be impossible for them to turn their mounts in Time even to face their attackers, much less ever come close enough to slay our Archers.
“As for their Archers – to even get around the mass of foot Soldiers, screaming Noble’s Horses and confused, wounded riders will also be an impossible feat. They will be picked off like Apples from a Tree by our right flank Archers.
“Our plan is to drive the invaders back toward their ships – although, by that Time – many of these will be a-blaze.
“It is inevitable that some of their infamous long boats will escape, and that is fine, for they will bring home with them the story of their defeat by King Arthur and his alliance and thus discourage future invasions.”
When I had explained all to Gwyddion and Igraine, I said, “It is close to the Time. Let me give orders to the garrison to be ready to leave within the hour, as they have been preparing since yesterday morning.”
Then quoth Gwyddion, “With your indulgence, my King, I took the liberty to rouse them three hours past. I thought it best to allow yourself and Bedwyr a bit of rest after last Night’s revelry. A-hem... Indeed it will make the riding a bit easier for you this morning. Oh, yes, I almost forgot... here, drink this – it will also do wonders for what, um, urh, ails you.”
He winked at me and smiled a wicked little knowing smile. No fooling him about our escapades of the Night past. I cuffed him on the shoulder. Igraine smiled too. No fooling her, either.
About then, Bedwyr, yawning, entered the chamber saying, “Why did you let me sleep so late? I must ready the troops!”
“Already done,” said I.
“Gwyddion... of course, you are here. Welcome, my teacher. How do you do that? Always knowing when to be where in the perfect Time – you must teach this Magic to me someday.”
Not long thereafter we were a-mount just beyond the gates of our fortress. All was ready. Bedwyr, Gwyddion, and I bade farewell to Igraine. I left word for my Queen to be well and have no fear. Then we were off.
We made our way to Aquae Sulis on rougher roads than are usual. This near to the Equinox, our Days have most unpredictable weather. This year it rained a little – or a lot – every Day and evening so that the roads were pockmarked with many holes, some treacherous to our Horses’ footing. Caution slowed us down.
I began to feel anxious in the pit of my stomach about reaching our destination in good enough Time to put our plan into action. I need not have worried. By the Time we reached Aquae Sulis, where the old Roman road – the Fosse Way – began, the going was much easier and we began to make good progress.
We had decided to follow this road all the way up to Lindum, where the first reports we had received indicated that the Teutonic forces would stage battle. By that Time we knew for a certainty that these reports were untrue. However, just in case they happened to stage a false engagement there, I left a small Guard to take care of any problems – from Lindum on we traversed Northward on the Roman Ermine Way and Akeman Streets.
All along our way, our numbers grew larger and larger, for many farmers and villagers joined our main forces. My heart broke for the very bravery and loyalty of these, my people. How I secretly wished that none of these un-trained men or boys would ever have to feel the sting of battle... Yet I knew that by their honour, they, too, would protect their families and these Fair Isles.
Our Forefathers had long ago assembled a row of Hill Fire posts to be lit as signals, one to the other, in the event of attack. A very old contrivance was this, but useful. As soon as ships were spotted by watchers in the North or South – depending from whence they were sighted – these great Fires would alert the next in the chain of beacons and the next in turn would light their Fire... and so on. We also – usually – had swift Horsemen running from one Fire signal post to the next, where another Horseman awaited in hiding just in the case that foul play or trickery was afoot at one of the stations. These couriers would reach our outposts with orders to assemble at a given Time and place to meet up with us and our allies in the North. This double system never failed me. This Time, however, Fires would only have alerted the enemy forces of our whereabouts and so no Fires could be used.
Gwyddion had originally thought of the idea of runners from one beacon to the next, because my uncle, Ambrosius Aurelius , had died from a wound he suffered in a very small, surprise skirmish. The Saxons had killed two of the Fire starters at critical signal posts so that he had no warning of enemies encroaching. An ignominious end it was for one of Briton’s most valued and capable leaders. “All Hail and Honour to you, my uncle” I silently saluted. “May you rest and be joyful in your peace.”
It seems right to note here that, for years now, the rumour has gone about that Ambrosius still lives. When my Father, Uther, was named Chief Battle Commander, taking Ambrosius’ place, the common folk were probably not even aware of the events leading to this change. Ambrosius had found a place in the hearts of the Britons, as well as now in folklore and memory.
But my Father Uther had not been Loved. By this Time in my life, as I write these histories – the two of them are combined and confused in stories and soon to be the stuff of legends. Perhaps someday I will be entwined in Ambrosius’ glory too. But this is why Morgan compiles her histories... for truth’s sake.
From Caesar Hadrian’s wall Northward to just South of the great Stone Hill called Table Rock was quite an expanse. For true – we as yet felt uncertain as to the exact location the Teutonic fleet would land.
As I was silently fretting about this, Gwyddion’s Owl Chronos hooted in his ear – a something only he could understand – giving him the true location. The Merlin’s eyes – his spirals – began to glow – or was it a brighter misty gray they became? It was always a frightening, yet wonderful thing, to see him thus. Was his “Sight” now in the distant future? …seeing events as they were to be? Or was he more present than ever, more aware and more conscious of all around him? Were the “Voices of the Stars” whispering to him?
“Arthur,” said Gwyddion, “Mistletoe is deemed the Druids’ most Sacred and Magical Stuff of Great Nature. It is neither Tree, nor Moss, nor Herb, although it is connected to each. No, but it is a parasite clinging to Oak, Ash, and other Trees... a thing that is not a thing, but a great living wonder. Oh, how do I explain? Here, ride to battle with this piece of Mistletoe on your person. I myself picked it and cut it with a Golden Sickle at the most propitious Time. Let this be a Magic of sympathy. May one thing stand for another. Let King Arthur and his troops become a parasite, devouring the greedy inclinations and desires of all the Angle, Saxon, and Jute invaders who would take our lands as their own dominion. Let this battle, there on that Hill, settle once and for all a lasting peace and comfort for our peoples...”
I think that it was at that very moment that I knew we could not lose this battle. My whole body thrilled and my heart beat faster. I felt invincible.
“But wait!” – said Gwyddion with a frown... “I am corrected... Oh yes...” said he with a smile of benevolent comprehension overtaking his face.
“I am reminded of the GREAT GODDESS – She who changes everything She touches. All things come in cycles and nothing lasts forever – neither we, nor this Time of peace and pleasure soon to come, nor the Earth nor the Stars. Nay, not even Her consort, the God of the Wild Dance. So let us be content with a good and lasting peace for a long and fair T
ime. And for so long as it will last, let this be remembered as Arthur’s Time – the Time of the Summer King!”
Then his eyes changed back from Prophet’s to man’s.
At perhaps two hours before Dawn on the morn of battle, the energy in our camp was tangible, like something heavy hanging in the Air around us. But the thrill – yes, the battle lust – was bubbling under, swelling our chests, and stiffening our cocks. Was that what I was feeling? Yes. The battle lust and the compelling desire to keep our homeland ours. We were still in control of ourselves, though. We must remain quiet and stealthy. But all knew the mania that would overtake us at the first battle cry.
It was then that first I thought I saw three familiar Mainsails.
“Look to the sea, our Archer ships are safely hidden within the fray of perhaps sixty or more Long boats of the attackers. Their small boats are awaiting their silent slipping to shore.”
All of a sudden one of the Long boats let an arrow of Flame fly into the pre-Dawn Sky. Was that a signal from one of our ships that the Archers had slipped to shore? It was a foolhardy thing to do, if so.
“But look!” said I...
At once from the surface of the Sea, to higher than the boats’ masts a dense Fog had arisen. None could know from whence came the flaming arrow.
I looked at The Merlin. He was grinning.
“Was this sudden Mist caused by you?”
“To raise a Mist is a simple Magic, Arthur. To best this vast army – three Times the size of your own – now that will be real Magic. And that is for you to accomplish!” Then Gwyddion made a little pun: “But win you will – even now the anticipation is rising in all your Warriors and Archers.”
He, of course, was alluding to the battle lust. He could be cleverly humourous at Times.
But then, perhaps the arrow was the signal. If so, this meant that all of our enemy’s long boats had stopped and those not beached had angled away from the shoreline, giving each other a fair breadth, so as to not to collide with one another. This meant that all was in readiness.
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