by Simon Lister
‘You’ve both done an excellent job here,’ Arthur replied, still studying the walls and the staked ground beneath them.
‘Well, we’ll soon see won’t we?’
‘Yes, we will.’
‘I don’t understand why they haven’t already come at us.’
‘The longer they wait the better. We’ll be busy enough soon enough.’
‘Perhaps Cei’s already cut their supplies?’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps they don’t think there’s any need to rush. Perhaps they don’t think we’ll hold them here for long. Perhaps they’re just waiting for the fog.’
Hengest had spread the word for the Causeway warriors to gather for Arthur to speak to them and Arthur strode over to where they were congregating. Ruadan knew he would wait until Hengest brought back the others before he started to recount the events of winter so he gazed around the compound looking for Ceinwen. He saw her near the West Gate laughing with the usual group that now included Balor and Tamsyn and he made his way over to them. He could hear Balor’s laugh from a hundred yards away. Balor was still laughing when he joined them.
‘Ruadan!’ Morgund shouted when he saw him and grasped his extended hand. Ceinwen turned quickly and threw her arms around him. The others grinned at them as the embrace continued. Ceinwen looked tiny beside her brother as he lifted her easily off her feet.
‘That was Hengest haring off through the gates wasn’t it?’ Morgund asked.
‘Certainly was. Why?’ Tamsyn asked.
‘Well, he’ll be taking over Elwyn’s responsibilities now won’t he?’ Morgund said and glanced across at Morveren with a smile. She looked back at him sourly.
Tamsyn watched the interchange. ‘What? Are you and Elwyn together now?’ she asked the blushing Morveren.
‘No! Don’t take any notice of this idiot,’ she replied quickly, gesturing to Morgund.
‘I just meant that Hengest’s going to take charge of the Anglians from Caer Sulis, Elwyn’s lot. I didn’t mean to imply that anything was going on between our Morveren and the straw head. But I like the way your minds work,’ he finished grinning at Morveren and Tamsyn.
‘Bit young to be commanding the Anglians isn’t he?’ Ceinwen asked.
‘You call thirty-odd young? Oh, I see, I suppose you would,’ Tamsyn said and put a hand to her back as she bent her tall, strongly built frame and took a few faltering steps forward. Like Morgund her dark limbs were muscled and well-toned and seeing her feign the frailty of old age made the others laugh. Ceinwen swore at her and despite the obvious mismatch in their respective strengths she landed a firm kick on her backside.
Ruadan turned to Balor but his beady blue eyes were watching Tamsyn rub her backside and so he said to no one in particular, ‘I see nothing whatsoever has changed in the least bit.’
Tamsyn led them off to show them properly around the new fortifications but in the backs of each of their minds was the thought that things had indeed changed. Ceinwen’s thoughts inevitably turned to her family while the others considered their own losses: Tamsyn had lost her brother, Talan. Elowen and Tomas lay dead in the Belgae villages. Mar’h was back in Caer Sulis with a crippled arm and Ethain and Trevenna were travelling deep into the Shadow Lands. They were conscious that already there were fewer of them to stand around and laugh with each other. None of them wanted to contemplate who among them might not live to take the Westway back home.
Once Arthur had addressed those who had wintered at the Gates he met up with Hengest and Ruadan again. He wanted to see the changes they had made to the Gates and the defences that had been built along the length of the Causeway. Ruadan quietly told Hengest to leave out the mechanics of how they had achieved things and concentrate instead on what was the purpose of each of the works.
Inside the compound of the Gates a second smaller wall had been constructed that paralleled the higher East, North and South walls before funnelling back to the gate they had entered by. There was a gap of over thirty-feet between the two walls and most of that ground was already prepared for the sharpened stakes. Ruadan led the way to the South side of this inner wall where the gate had been placed and they walked around the perimeter until they came to the East Gate. The outer walls stood between twenty and thirty-feet high and Arthur could see that firing slits had been cut every two yards along the base of the wall facing the Causeway.
As they approached the East Gate Arthur looked up at a wooden scaffolding structure that had been erected above the gateway. He gestured towards it and Hengest grinned.
‘I based it upon the designs of the crossbows that the Cithol delivered to us.’
‘You’ve already received supplies from the Cithol?’ Arthur asked.
‘Oh yes, food, crossbows and bolts. Strange lot though. They arrived and unloaded their carts then turned around and left. Hardly said a word to anyone and they always had their hoods close about their faces too. They caused quite a stir so it’s as well that you sent us warning of their arrival,’ Ruadan answered.
‘Will they be sending us people to help with the defence?’ Hengest asked, momentarily side-tracked from the desire to explain his invention that was poised above the East Gate.
‘Perhaps. Tell me what this is.’
Hengest led them up the ladder to the platform that ran around the inside of the walls.
‘I took the principles of the Cithol crossbow and, well, made it bigger really. Merdynn talked to me about something like this a few years ago but I couldn’t see how it would work until I saw the Cithol weapons. It’s like a huge crossbow but with a few extras too.’
‘I saw something similar out on the flats,’ Arthur said, remembering a strange wooden frame that stood near the last wall.
‘Yes, we’ll be bringing that up here soon – I just need to finish ranging it on the flats first. It can hurl a boulder up to two hundred yards and with good accuracy too.’
‘Is this what this does then?’
‘Same principle with winches, gears and rope but this one fires more directly – like a crossbow but the bolt is the size of a log and we can put some effective attachments on it too.’
‘Can you aim it?’
‘It’s fixed on the Causeway but it can be elevated and lowered to fire upon different points between here and the next wall – about two hundred yards away.’
Arthur examined the contraption while Hengest looked on proudly. Bracketed planks either side of the central groove provided cover for those working the mechanism.
‘And it takes three people to fire it?’ Arthur asked.
‘Yes, that’s right. One either side to work the gearing to bring back the rope and the firing block which catches here,’ Hengest leant across to point to the place he meant and Ruadan gave him a warning cough. ‘And one to load and release it,’ he finished quickly.
‘You have boulders stockpiled for the other one? And logs or whatever it is you fire from this one?’
‘Yes, most of it is still on the flats.’
‘Good. Bring them up as soon as possible. Ruadan was right. You have a gift for this kind of defence. If these work then they’ll slaughter the Adren.’
‘Don’t worry, they work. I’ve tested them already.’
‘Let’s just hope the Adren don’t have anything similar,’ Ruadan added.
‘Even if they do at least we have strong walls to protect us,’ Hengest replied.
Arthur nodded and looked out to the Causeway. Almost immediately in front of the gate the Causeway had been cut away to leave a gap of fifty-feet that was spanned by a retractable bridge. Water from the marshes swirled about the muddy ground below the bridge. A lone figure stood on the far side looking out over the mists to the North. Arthur recognised the long, red hair.
‘I’ll ride to the watch tower at the far end of the Causeway and look at the defences between here and there. Hengest, finish ranging your new weapon and bring up all the stockpiles from the flats. Ruadan, I want every defensive point on this Causeway manned
constantly from now on.’
Arthur was about to leave the wall when he turned back and peered into the mists either side of the gap in front of the gates.
‘Did you build the walkways to provide fire positions on the gap?’
Ruadan looked at Hengest before replying. ‘No, we couldn’t. The sands are unbelievably treacherous. Everything we laid down just sank under its own weight.’
‘Even bushels bundled together?’
Ruadan shrugged, ‘We tried that but as soon as anyone attempted to walk on them they too started to get sucked under.’
‘Good.’
‘Good?’ Hengest asked incredulously.
‘Yes, good.’
‘I had to be dragged out with ropes twice!’ Hengest spluttered.
‘You lived. If you couldn’t build walkways then neither can they. And that means you can live longer.’
Arthur left them to their tasks and collected his and Gwyna’s horses before riding out the East Gate to meet his new wife.
They rode the two hundred yards to the next wall and ditch in silence. Arthur spent a few minutes talking to those stationed there before they resumed their journey along the Causeway. Gwyna guided her horse across to Arthur’s until their knees were close enough to occasionally touch. Their pace was unhurried and the mists closed around them until it seemed that the whole world only consisted of the Causeway just before them and just behind them. They could feel the moisture in the air on their faces as they gently made their way forward. Somewhere overhead and off to their left they heard the slow beating of wings as a flight of geese unerringly sought their home through the marsh mists.
‘It’s so peaceful,’ Gwyna said quietly, almost more to herself than to Arthur. He looked at her face and she felt his eyes on her but she gazed straight ahead. She had changed back into her war gear before leaving Caer Sulis and she looked to Arthur once more like the wild Uathach girl he had met near the slaughtered Belgae villages. The harshness of the winter she had spent in the Shadow Lands had left its evidence in the lines on her face but the gaunt hue of hunger had left her cheeks and she looked well and healthy once more. From the way she held the reins he could tell that her shoulder was as good as healed and he attributed that to her youth. The arrow wound he had received at Branque still ached and the damp air of the marshes seemed to be making it worse. He was easily old enough to be her father and their respective recoveries showed that as clearly as any other indicator. She finally returned his gaze and smiled at him.
‘It is,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Peaceful.’
‘Oh. Yes. It’s hard to imagine the blood that will be spilt here soon.’
‘Soon it will be hard to imagine peace.’ As Arthur spoke an unbidden image of Fin Seren in the Winter Garden came back to him. He tried to dispel it but his thoughts turned back to the time just before Ablach entered the Great Hall at Caer Sulis. For a moment then he had considered abandoning everything just to be with her. To be with Seren and to be at peace. Such a decision would probably have alienated the Cithol as potential allies and certainly would have wrecked any chance of an alliance with the Uathach yet still he had considered it. He had chosen to agree to Ablach’s offer of the marriage to his daughter because it increased the chances of defending Britain successfully but even now there were no guarantees that either the Uathach or the Cithol would stand with the southern tribes.
Gwyna felt him distancing himself once more from her and mistook the silence.
‘I knew nothing about Mador’s challenge back at the feast, Arthur.’
‘I know. Your father planned it.’
‘Then he was foolish.’
‘He was,’ Arthur said then looked directly at her, ‘Will he come to the Causeway with his warriors?’
Gwyna turned to look out towards the white blanket that shrouded the marshes debating what to tell him. Wisely she decided to tell the truth.
‘I don’t know. I think he’s unsure what best serves his purposes but he would be a fool if he thinks he can stand alone against the Adren.’
‘And we’ve already agreed he’s a fool.’
‘His ambitions aren’t mine anymore. Mine changed when I was wed to you. Now mine are the same as yours.’
Another defensive wall was materialising from the mists ahead of them and they both stopped their horses to finish the conversation in private.
‘And what are my ambitions?’ Arthur asked, his gray eyes staring at her.
‘To defeat the Adren and to unify the tribes of Britain,’ she answered holding his stare and then added, ‘And then to rule it all.’
He smiled at her and turned his horse to continue along the Causeway.
Chapter Nine
Seren paced the cavern. Terrill had left several hours before with the promise to bring back food and warmer clothing. He had left without resolving the conflicting loyalties he was torn by and Seren was deeply worried that he might go to Lord Venning or Commander Kane and tell them that they had overheard the meeting with Lazure Ulan. She knew that Terrill would only be loyal to her to a certain extent and she feared that his years of obedience to his Lord would ultimately overrule any allegiance he felt towards her. He had a strong sense of loyalty but that sense was defined more by the custom and dictate of others than it was by himself. Now that his personal definitions of loyalty were in contradiction to those he had previously followed he had to decide for himself which he should adhere to, and Seren feared he did not have the strength to overcome the simple rules he had always lived by.
She had already decided that she had to face her father. She had to tell him that she carried Arthur’s child and she felt she had to confront him about why he had decided to support Lazure, but more important than either of these dreaded tasks she first had to warn Arthur somehow of the tunnel that would lead the Adren under the Gates. If Arthur and the Britons died on the Causeway then everything else would be pointless. It would mean going against her father, something Terrill was plainly unwilling to do, but she was convinced her father was wrong. She was convinced that only Arthur could preserve the Veiled City in the face of the Adren onslaught and that Lazure had no intention of honouring his promise to let the Cithol live in peace. It was not a light matter to go against Lord Venning but she only had to remember how she had felt in the tunnels when the shadow of Lazure had turned towards them to know instinctively that she was right.
She suddenly stopped her pacing as it struck her that her father must also feel he was instinctively right about his deal with Lazure. Perhaps a strong conviction in one’s own instincts ran in the family; convictions that were strong enough to stake your peoples’ entire future on. It occurred to her that this was what it meant to lead a people. In time it would be her convictions and strength, her will, that would lead the Cithol. The prospect daunted her and she suddenly felt very young and alone but at the same time her sense of outrage at her father’s betrayal grew and strengthened. She realised that it was Arthur’s implacable will that would lead the Britons into war against the Adren and she acknowledged that she lacked the ability to do likewise with her own people but she knew what was right and what was wrong, and she was convinced that dealing with Lazure was utterly wrong.
The fire was dying down so she fetched another armful of logs from the pile that had been stacked against one wall of the underground chamber and placed a couple on the fire. She stood the others upright as close to the flames as she could and watched as the moisture began to sizzle and fizz from them. Her stomach rumbled as if echoing the drying logs and she clasped her arms tightly about herself. She was hungry and thirsty, and despite the fire she was cold too. In their flight from the Veiled City neither she nor Terrill had stopped to equip themselves for the world above. What they had overheard at the meeting between Lord Venning and Lazure had made them both feel like outlaws and they had acted instinctively like fugitives and ran from the place of the crime.
Seren sat as close to the
fire as she could and extended her hands over the flames thinking bitterly that it was her father and Kane who were the criminals not her or Terrill. For the first time since returning to the Veiled City she had nothing to do but wait and her thoughts inevitably turned once more to her own misery. She wished that Merdynn would magically appear before her and explain how everything had so suddenly gone wrong and then, somehow, make it right again. She relived her encounters with Arthur and the disastrous sequence of events that had unfolded since she travelled to Caer Sulis. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she absently wondered how she had any left to cry. A stupor crept over her and without realising it she sat staring at her memories as the hours were silently stolen from her. The fire crackled, burnt and finally died unheeded.
She had no idea that a figure stood by the entrance above her until he addressed her. She leapt to her feet and nearly stumbled as her numb legs threatened to betray her balance. She thought wildly that perhaps Merdynn had answered her earlier prayers but then the voice spoke again.
‘Fin Seren, you are to come back with us to the Veiled City.’
The figure was outlined against the light of the entrance and she could not see who it was but the voice was unmistakable. It was Commander Kane and she automatically looked for a way to escape, but she knew the entrance was also the only exit and so she turned to face him.
‘You have no authority over me,’ she replied with surprising resolve.
‘You have broken the laws of the city and I am bound to enforce those laws but it is your father, Lord Venning, who demands your presence.’
She stared up at the Commander realising that Terrill must have told them everything and then led them to her hiding place. Cursing silently to herself she crossed the cavern and climbed up to the doorway.
Commander Kane stood blocking the entrance and Seren had to stop a step or two below him.
‘And what laws, exactly, have I broken?’ As she spoke she looked up at him and she could now see the self-satisfied expression on his face as his gaze dropped to her abdomen. For a moment she was on the verge of striking him but she mastered her sudden anger and climbed the last steps forcing Kane to step aside.