by Simon Lister
Halfway through the journey Arthur ordered the barge to moor at the next open stretch of land. Elwyn shouted the order to the boat behind and the message was passed back down the line. Once they were tied up to the bank the horses were given a canter to stretch their legs and ease their restlessness and Arthur ordered a three-man patrol to range ahead on each bank to make sure the country was free of the enemy.
When the second patrol had been set down on the far bank they rowed the barges back into midstream and resumed their unhurried journey towards the Winter Wood. The sky was still cloudless and the overhead sun glared off the rippling bow wakes and shone on the clouds of insects that hung above the water like swirling dust motes. The warriors not manning the oars sporadically dozed in the heat and slapped at the biting insects.
The patrols intermittently reported back and called the all clear from the banks and the barges continued on their way to the rendezvous point to the West of the Winter Wood and despite their unhurried progress they reached the ford several hours before the rest of the war band arrived.
They tied the barges up to the northern bank and Hengest resumed his work on them while Arthur sent one of the patrols across the ford to gauge the progress of the main army. The river had been widened at this point and hundreds of blocks of stone that had been scavenged from the ruins lying on the outskirts of the nearby Winter Wood had been dropped to the riverbed to provide a causeway across the Isis. At this time of year it was still covered by four-feet of slow moving water but as the summer wore on the stone causeway would eventually surface as the water level dropped. Gaps had been left in the base of the causeway to allow the river to flow on and in more peaceful times it was one of the tasks of the war band to ensure the underwater arches remained free of obstruction. The days of maintaining the roads and fords seemed a long time ago to the Anglian warriors who were setting up their camp two hundred yards upstream.
Arthur took Saewulf and Lissa and they rode across the sparsely wooded river meadows towards the Winter Wood. Smoke still hung in the sky drifting slowly across a pale half-moon setting in the East. As they pushed onwards the evidence of the forest fires soon became apparent to them; great swathes of fire-blackened earth spiked by the charred remains of tree trunks stretched out for miles before them. In places the fires had cut mile-wide avenues through the woodland but left the trees and undergrowth to either side completely untouched. The acrid smell of burnt earth and wood still clung to the air and the ash still lay hot underfoot. The fires had stripped away the forest cloak to reveal the endless tumbled remnants of the ancient city that once stood there. The devastation of the woodland and the immensity of the revealed ruins stopped the three riders in their tracks and they stared at the desolation for long silent minutes.
Saewulf eventually broke it as he reined in his nervous horse, ‘The legion won’t march through this. The Winter Wood was bad enough as it was but this...’
Arthur silently agreed and brought his horse around to ride back to the ford. They had seen no sign of any Adren activity and when they returned to their temporary camp the other patrols reported likewise. The Adren based on the South bank of the Isis on the other side of the Winter Wood seemed content to guard their camp and await the command to move west on Caer Cadarn.
The Uathach were the first of the main army to arrive at the ford and Gwyna and Ruraidh made their way straight to Arthur’s tent. It was little more than canvas sails draped over a wooden frame but it offered welcome shade from the constant sun.
‘Are the others far behind you?’ Arthur asked without looking up.
‘Only a few hours. Will we camp here?’ Ruraidh asked as he watched Arthur who was leaning over a makeshift table and concentrating on a square piece of cloth.
‘Yes. Ten hours for the legion to rest, sleep and eat, but no fires. It’s unlikely that any Adren will see the smoke but we won’t risk it.’
The two Uathach watched Arthur, filled with curiosity at what he was doing. Gwyna took a step closer to get a better view of what Arthur was studying and finally asked, ‘What are you doing?’
Arthur looked up at them for the first time and noticed that the bruising on his wife’s face was beginning to fade to a dull yellow.
‘Are your warriors concerned about the Adren army in the North?’
‘Of course but their families are safe at the Haven – they all made sure they got the message. They saw the Adren army on the Causeway remember?’
‘And what of Benoc and Hund?’ Arthur wondered if the Uathach had heard any news of the other two northern chieftains.
Ruraidh stepped forward and glanced at the cloth that Arthur had been working on before he answered, ‘Hopefully they’ll gather what’s left of the northern tribes and make straight for the Haven.’
‘What is this, Arthur?’ Gwyna said gesturing to the white cloth.
‘The battle plan. Merdynn taught me long ago how to represent a battle on cloth. With this I can explain exactly what I expect every captain to do and when I expect them to do it. If everyone does as they are ordered to, and when they are ordered to, then we will win.’
‘And if not?’ Gwyna asked.
‘Then it’ll end up a bloody battle between the war band and ten thousand Adren.’ None of them were in any doubt about how such a battle would end.
The rest of the war band and the legion arrived at the ford over the next few hours and they spread out over the meadows on the northern bank to rest. Food and drink were brought to them by the small army of cooks and helpers that had travelled with them.
Arthur summoned all the captains to his headquarters and they sat on the cool ground or stood against the walls of the tent as he went through every detail of the battle plan once again. They listened silently in the crowded tent. Morgund and Balor were there from the Wessex, Gwyna and Ruraidh from the Uathach, Gereint and Dystran from the Mercians, Hengest, Elwyn and Saewulf from the Anglians and Mar’h with his captains from the seven cohorts. Arthur appointed Elwyn to lead the cohort of five hundred archers with its current captain acting as his second-in-command. Morgund was assigned the four hundred strong mounted cohort, once again with its acting captain as his number two. Mar’h was in overall charge of the legion and had direct control over the four cohorts trained to use sword and shield. Arthur told him to use the crossbow cohort directly behind the shield wall; their weapons would be ideal close quarter support for the defensive line.
When he had finished he asked if there were any questions. Gwyna pointed out that Mar’h could pick up more weapons for his two ill-equipped cohorts from the battle the Uathach had fought on the hillside. Arthur reiterated to Mar’h the need for mounted messengers to take his orders quickly to the other cohorts during the battle; Mar’h had already assigned two riders for each cohort.
Finally Arthur called them forward in smaller groups and used the battle map to go through the sequence once again. When it came to Saewulf’s turn he explained precisely what he was to do with the barges he was to take downstream.
When he was sure everyone knew their part and when all the questions had been answered he dismissed them to go and rest. In five hours the legion would begin its march around the northern side of the Winter Wood.
Chapter Six
Ceinwen and Morveren decided to make their first stop at the standing stones on the upland plain to the southwest of Caer Cadarn. They let their horses roam off to feed on the yellowing grass and set about fixing a wide blanket from the tumbled pile of massive stones to create some shade. Ceinwen insisted that Morveren change her bandages and while she was gingerly unwinding the cloth from around her waist Ceinwen started to get some food ready. She realised that she had left some of the supplies in one of the saddlebags and called across to her horse. Her horse looked up and studied her for a moment before taking a few steps further away and lowering its head once again to resume its leisurely grazing; Ceinwen trudged off through the long grass muttering under her breath.
She retrieved
the necessary food and they ate their meal in companionable silence. When they had finished they sat in the shade with their backs against the cool stone watching their horses forage some distance away.
‘Merdynn said this was a place of great significance long ago,’ Ceinwen said, running her hand over the weathered surface of the stone they were leaning against.
‘I can’t believe they’re dead. It’s like I’ve forgotten something then suddenly I remember that Cei and the others are dead and then I discount it again as just impossible,’ Morveren said, gently shaking her head.
‘Merdynn’s disappeared for years before so I wouldn’t raise a funeral pyre for him just yet.’
‘Maybe not, but the others?’
‘I don’t know, Morveren, none of us do.’
‘But you think they’re dead?’
Ceinwen sighed before answering, ‘I thought they were dead from the moment they left us in the Shadow Lands. I still hope I’m wrong. We have our own worries now.’
Morveren looked away unhappily and started absently plucking at the long grass to her side. Ceinwen tried to change the subject, ‘It seems daft us wandering around Wessex looking for just one person.’
‘Especially as the others are riding to battle.’
‘You’d have thought Arthur would need every single one of us if he plans to face the Adren in open battle,’ Ceinwen said.
‘They won’t miss me much. I’m good with a short bow but in a battle? I’d have thought you would have been indispensable though.’
‘He’s got the Anglian healer, Henna.’
Morveren thought for a moment trying to place a face to the name before saying, ‘I don’t think I know her.’
‘Short dumpy woman. Always looks grumpy.’
‘Good at healing then?’ Morveren said, half-smiling at Ceinwen’s tone. Ceinwen just snorted in response.
‘She’d better be good,’ Morveren said more seriously.
‘You don’t need to worry about Morgund,’ Ceinwen replied, mistaking her anxious tone.
‘Oh, I’m not worried about him. The big lump can more than look after himself.’
‘What are you worried about then?’
‘My idiot big brothers. How on earth did they get themselves involved in Mar’h’s legion? They don’t know the first thing about fighting the Adren. Stupid.’
‘They’re not stupid, Morveren, everyone’s as involved as we are – or would be if we weren’t hunting the sickle in the hayfield. Surely you’re proud of them, aren’t you?’
Morveren hung her head and her long hair fell around her face hiding her expression from Ceinwen.
‘Aren’t you?’ Ceinwen asked again.
‘I was ashamed of them,’ she replied in a quiet voice.
‘For fighting alongside us?’ Ceinwen asked incredulously.
‘No, of course not. I was ashamed of them when I took them to Arthur,’ she said miserably.
‘Because you thought Arthur would rail at them for taking so long over the message?’ Ceinwen asked puzzled.
‘No, no. That was idiotic and exasperating but I’d never be ashamed of them in front of Arthur, or you, or any of the others come to that.’
‘Well, who then?’
‘Gwyna. The way she looked at them and just brushed them aside as if they were irritating dogs or goats or something.’
Ceinwen snorted dismissively, ‘I wouldn’t pay that girl too much mind. Gods know what gives her the right to act so high and mighty.’
‘Especially as...’ Morveren stopped herself abruptly and looked away.
‘Especially as what?’ Ceinwen asked.
‘Well, being just another Uathach girl from another Uathach dunghill village. I mean, I know she’s Arthur’s wife but she’s still Uathach.’
Ceinwen studied her for a few seconds before saying, ‘That wasn’t what you were going to say was it? What were you going to say?’
Morveren felt the burning need to explain to someone why she had done nothing while Gwyna was being raped. She felt far more ashamed of herself than she did her brothers and she needed someone to tell her that she had acted in the only way possible; and so she told Ceinwen what happened on the hillside to the North of the Winter Wood.
When she had finished Ceinwen took her eyes away from Morveren and stared out over the plain. ‘Gods know that I don’t much like the girl, I’m not sure I even trust her that much, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,’ Ceinwen said quietly.
‘I should have gone to help her,’ Morveren said, fearing that Ceinwen would agree with her.
‘Well, that shadow guard of Lazure’s seem like skilled warriors. The Uathach only killed eight of them?’
Morveren nodded in reply.
‘It sounds like if you’d gone to help her then you wouldn’t be feeling guilty about it now. You’d be dead. Look, Morveren, you weren’t with her when she was attacked so you didn’t abandon her or run away. You’d only have been throwing your life away if you’d tried to intervene. I was near Ruadan when he fell to the Adren and the others stopped me throwing my life away in a futile gesture. They did the right thing – I didn’t think so at the time but, well, I’d be dead now if they hadn’t. Arthur did much the same at Branque where I saw my husband butchered.’
Morveren remained silent, glad on the one hand to have Ceinwen’s support and horrified on the other to have brought up the memories of the deaths of Andala, Caja and Ruadan. Seeing the pain in her friend’s eyes she resolved anew never to tell Ceinwen of the true circumstances of her daughter’s death.
Ceinwen got to her feet and began to dismantle their shelter saying, ‘It’s too hot to sleep here. We’ll move on and sleep when we get to some woodland beyond the plain.’
‘I’m sorry, Ceinwen, I didn’t mean to...’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Ceinwen said, folding the cloth that had sheltered them from the sun, ‘What I was trying to say was that the others didn’t think it was worth me throwing my life away trying to save Ruadan when he was already beyond help. If Ruadan, or Andala and Caja weren’t worth the gesture then Gwyna certainly isn’t.’
‘That’s true. I suppose I felt more guilty because she’s Arthur’s wife.’
‘He should have married Seren,’ Ceinwen said, more to herself than her companion.
‘The Cithol girl?’ Morveren asked in surprise.
‘Yes.’
‘The pregnant one?’ Morveren asked staring at her.
Ceinwen just looked at her then called out to her horse. It ignored her again and her mood darkened when Morveren called hers and it came dutifully trotting towards her with Ceinwen’s following on after it.
They mounted their horses and looked out across the shimmering haze of the plain.
‘How on earth are we going to find him?’ Morveren asked as she settled her eager horse.
‘Perhaps it won’t be as hard as we think. Everyone should be at the Haven now so any signs of life will probably be him. We’ll try your village first as that was where he was last seen.’
‘And after that?’
‘We’ll try his village,’ Ceinwen answered and spurred her horse to head deeper into Wessex.
‘I almost hope we don’t find him,’ Morveren said quietly and followed after Ceinwen.
*
Arthur waited patiently on his horse. Around him were just under two hundred mounted warriors; all that remained of the combined war bands of the South and the warriors from the North. The Adren camp was five miles to the North of them and they waited patiently under the burning sun.
Arthur glanced across to Hengest who dismounted and took two objects from his saddlebag. He squatted down and put them both on the ground. The first object was his lodestone and he carefully aligned it then positioned his sundial next to it. The sundial was a circular piece of metal about a foot across with finely engraved notches running around its circumference. He unfolded the thin indicator from the centre and bent over the instrument to be exactly s
ure where the shadow fell. He nodded to himself and stood up, packing his precious instruments back into his saddlebag.
‘It’s time,’ he said, looking up at Arthur.
Arthur looked around slowly at the warriors surrounding him, many of whom carried long spears, and without a word he turned to the North and set his horse to a casual walk. Behind him the war band settled their nervous horses and followed after him in a wide jagged line.
*
Mar’h was on the other side of the Isis with his legion concealed in the outskirts of the Winter Wood about a mile from the Adren bridge. He turned to Morgund, ‘You’d better be getting back to your horsemen. Arthur’s attack will begin soon.’
‘Glad to be back where the action is?’ Morgund asked as he jumped up onto his horse.
‘Wouldn’t miss it for anything,’ Mar’h replied sourly and with a very dry mouth.
‘Just be sure to bring your cohorts forward at the right time!’
‘And when would that be again?’
Morgund laughed, ‘As soon as I’m in trouble!’
‘Just bugger off,’ Mar’h replied and Morgund grinned as he kicked his heels in and rode off to join his new cavalry cohort.
Mar’h called over one of his riders and sent him ahead to Elwyn with the unnecessary message to prepare his archers. He then sent the young Anglian, Aelfric, the two hundred yards down to the riverbank where Saewulf waited by the barges. Having sent two messages that he knew were redundant he finally turned to the nearby tall tree and climbed the rope ladder to the hastily erected platform set a hundred-feet above the ground. The messengers came back and reported that everyone was ready and Mar’h settled himself on the platform watching the Adren camp through the heat haze that wavered across the simmering land. Before long he saw a dust cloud rising to the South of the river.