by Simon Lister
Ceinwen took her hands from her face alarmed by Arthur’s tone, ‘Arthur, Merdynn was adamant that no harm should come to Ethain.’
‘And why would Merdynn demand Ethain’s safety? You know what he’s guilty of.’
‘I don’t know anything for certain other than he’s lying, he’s hiding something.’
‘He killed Cuthwin. He tried to kill Merdynn. Merdynn was going to bring the Wessex boats to Cei’s rescue but Ethain stopped him. Ethain killed Cei. He killed my sister and he killed anyone else who was still alive at the fortress.’ Arthur’s voice was implacable and Ceinwen knew he meant to kill Ethain.
‘Arthur, listen to me, you must listen to me,’ Ceinwen felt the panic rising inside her as she leant forwards across the table. Without realising she was doing it she took Arthur’s hands in her own, ‘Merdynn was insistent that you should not harm him!’ Her words spilled quicker as she sought some way to convince him, ‘They’re linked somehow and Merdynn implied that Ethain was still important to the defence of our land. Why would he say that after Ethain had tried to kill him unless it were true? You must spare him! You must! You must show him mercy!’
‘Mercy for the man who killed my sister?’
‘The Adren killed Trevenna, not Ethain!’
‘Ethain betrayed her and he betrayed Cei.’
‘You must show him mercy!’
‘There is no mercy for those betrayals.’
Someone rapped loudly on the door and Ceinwen swung her head round dreading it was Ethain and feeling the panic escalating beyond her control.
‘If I ever meant anything to you, if Merdynn ever meant anything to you, you must not kill him!’ she hissed gripping his hands desperately.
Arthur stood up and Ceinwen rose letting go of his hands and feeling a fresh wave of fear wash over her.
‘Open the door and do not stand in my way,’ Arthur said coldly.
Feeling herself shaking she crossed to the door and opened it; Morveren stood there looking ashen with Ethain behind her.
‘Sorry we took so long. Ethain insisted on going back to his hut first,’ Morveren said with a shrug.
They entered the room and the two women stood to one side as Ethain came to stand before Arthur. His face was still flushed from the acclamations and praise of the Anglian warriors but he was shifting nervously and his eyes would not meet Arthur’s.
‘Sit down, Ethain,’ Arthur said indicating for him to take the seat opposite him. Ethain was reassured by Arthur’s calm tone and ventured a flicker of a smile. Ceinwen groaned, suddenly fearing she would not have the courage to come between Arthur and his justice.
‘I’ve heard your tale of the Shadow Lands. Is there anything you want to add to it?’ Arthur asked and indicated once again for Ethain to sit.
‘There’s not much to add,’ Ethain said hesitantly. He licked his dry lips and added, ‘Except how sorry I am about your sister, and Cei. And Merdynn too.’
Arthur stared at him but he still refused to raise his eyes.
‘Sit,’ Arthur repeated and as Ethain did so Arthur saw for the first time what he had been shielding from him. As Ethain settled himself in the low chair he laid Merdynn’s staff across his lap.
As Arthur stared in disbelief at the stout oak staff his gaze flattened and dulled. The silence stretched and Ethain fidgeted uneasily.
‘How did you come by that staff?’ Arthur finally asked as the life returned to his eyes.
‘This?’ Ethain said trying to sound casual and failing, ‘Merdynn gave it to me on the boat. Perhaps he knew he was dying and...’
Ceinwen and Morveren stared at the staff both shocked that they had not recognised it earlier. Ceinwen started forward convinced that this was some sign from Merdynn.
‘Get out!’ Arthur suddenly roared at them, ‘All of you leave!’
Ethain scrambled to his feet as Arthur snatched up Cei’s axe from the table. Ceinwen dashed forward and grabbed Ethain dragging him towards the door that Morveren had wrenched open. As she slammed the door behind them Ceinwen heard the crash as the axe splintered the table.
She pushed Ethain ahead of her as she hurried him out of the hall. When they reached the main doors Ethain turned briefly and Ceinwen saw a triumphant smile flash across his sweating face.
Morveren stood with her back pressed against the door to Arthur’s chamber. Her heart was thumping and the blood pounded in her ears as she tried to steady her breathing. The violent destruction in the room behind her ceased as suddenly as it had begun. She looked around the busy hall but none of the warriors seemed to have heard any of Arthur’s rage; the Anglian and Wessex warriors had been joined by the Mercians and some of the Uathach and together they were making more than enough noise to have covered the splintering crashes from Arthur’s chamber.
Her racing pulse began to steady and she thought through the last few minutes in the room behind her. Clearly Arthur knew Ethain’s true role in the events concerning Cei and Merdynn and yet he had refrained from taking his head clean off his shoulders. She knew it had been the sight of Merdynn’s staff in Ethain’s possession that had spared the miserable wretch but she was puzzled as to why that would make Arthur stay his hand; if anything she thought it would have been enough to assure his quick and bloody departure.
The door flew open behind her and she whirled around to see Arthur standing there with Cei’s axe still in his hand.
‘Get four fresh horses ready, I’m taking a patrol north to find this Adren army for myself. You, Balor and Morgund are coming with me. Tell Ceinwen to keep a close watch on Ethain and to never let him be more than a hundred paces away from her.’
Arthur strode towards the gathered warriors and Morveren hurried away to prepare the horses and provisions. He saw Aelfric listening to the drinking warriors and made straight for him.
‘Aelfric, gather everyone in Caer Cadarn who isn’t able to fight in either the war band or the legion and leave for the Haven immediately. That includes you. Whatever orders I send to the Haven must be acted on instantly. Make sure the council understand this, make sure they understand that Britain’s future relies upon this.’
Aelfric nodded but stood his ground, ‘Can you not send another messenger? I want to stand with the Anglians.’
‘No. If I thought you would be more use to me fighting then I would have already told you so. Take this,’ Arthur said handing him the Elk Stone, ‘and give it to Fin Seren. Tell her it’s for our daughter. Make sure they are both safe.’
Aelfric left the hall to begin gathering the others and Arthur called Gereint and Elwyn across to him.
‘Gereint, let them celebrate and sleep but from then on make sure the war band is constantly ready to ride to war. Elwyn, the same goes for the legion. I’m riding north to find the Adren army – it’s been too long since we’ve heard from the patrol. Do either of you know where Gwyna is?’
‘She left the hall before Ethain began relating his tale but Ruraidh’s over there with Dystran,’ Elwyn answered, pointing to a far corner of the hall where more of the warriors were drinking.
‘Tell him what I’ve told you. Make sure everyone’s prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.’
Half an hour later Arthur’s patrol rode out of Caer Cadarn heading northwest deep into the Mercian lands. Balor and Morgund were half-drunk and busy going over Ethain’s story of the Shadow Lands until Arthur abruptly shut them up. They thought he did so because he had no wish to dwell upon Trevenna and Cei’s deaths but the subdued Morveren knew better.
The towering clouds in the West had finally marched inland covering the declining sun and trapping the oppressive heat in a close blanket over the land. The coming storms could be felt in the humid air and the late summer light had taken on a filtered, yellowish quality. Morveren’s horse was calm enough but the other three mounts could sense the imminent thunder and showed their nervousness. As the first distant rumbling of the storm echoed across the landscape she thanked the foresight that had told her
to pack the oiled capes.
She untied a couple and turned in her saddle to lob them to Balor and Morgund who were dropping back to continue their conversation about Ethain out of Arthur’s earshot. She handed one of the capes to Arthur and he wedged it in front of his saddle.
The thunder rolled across the West and as they headed onwards they watched the lightning flick from the heavy clouds ahead.
‘We’re heading straight for it,’ Morveren said and ruffled her horse’s mane just as lightning flashed closer to them. The thunder cracked through the air seconds later and Arthur’s horse shied sideways in alarm.
‘Should we seek some shelter?’ she asked.
‘The storms could last weeks. We haven’t the time.’
‘You think the Adren army could be that close?’
‘We don’t know where the Adren army is. We should and until we do then storms or no storms we’ll keep looking for them,’ Arthur replied.
‘Where are we going to start?’
‘We’ll head north of the Haven and then cover the land further northwards until we find them.’
Morveren swore and pointed ahead.
‘What is it?’ Arthur asked.
‘Here it comes!’ she answered as she reached hurriedly for her cape.
Arthur saw it a good few seconds after Morveren and he too unrolled his cape; it seemed like an impenetrable veil of water was advancing towards them. A gust of wind blew the first of the heavy raindrops at them and then the rainstorm swept across them lashing the parched land with torrential rain.
Morgund urged his horse forward into the stinging rain until he caught up with the two ahead, ‘Should we seek some shelter?’ he shouted over the noise of the rain. As if to emphasise his question lightning tore through the air followed instantly by a deafening crack of thunder.
Morveren glanced at Arthur before replying, ‘No! We’re carrying on!’
Morgund could barely hear her but he caught the meaning and waited to give Balor the grim news while the other two pushed on into the storm. The cloudburst only lasted a few minutes and before long the rain had settled to a steady hammering rhythm. Lightning still flicked from the dark, blue-black clouds that stretched from horizon to horizon and the thunder rolled distantly across the land with only the occasional sudden and nerve-jarring crack overhead.
The first of the autumn rains had fallen on parched land and the standing water along the pathways and fields reflected the skies in broken ribbons of silver and black. They were riding their horses in single file and at walking pace taking care not to push their mounts on the slippery and uncertain conditions underfoot.
Morveren eased her horse alongside Arthur’s and pulled back the hood of her cloak letting the rain fall on her long, dark hair.
‘Are we heading towards the mountains?’ she asked.
‘That was my plan but on the high ground we’ll see nothing in this,’ Arthur replied, gesturing at the lowering clouds.
‘So, where are we heading?’ Morveren asked with her eyes closed and her head tilted up toward the rain.
Arthur glanced at her and watched as the rain splashed on her young face. Something about her half-smile reminded him of Seren and unseen by either her or the two following he smiled at her.
‘Don’t drown.’
She laughed and opened her eyes to look at him, ‘You forget, I was raised by the sea. I doubt there’s a better swimmer in the war band.’
The thought crossed both their minds that competition for that particular claim had been drastically reduced over the last few months. ‘It’s just that I haven’t felt the rain on my face for so long,’ she added lamely and wishing she hadn’t made the boast.
‘The best plan is still to cover the ground to the North of the Haven then double back and cover the ground further to the northeast and keep doing so until we find them.’
‘Perhaps we should have brought Ceinwen along?’
Arthur shrugged before replying, ‘Even we should be able to see signs of ten thousand Adren moving through the land.’
‘True,’ Morveren conceded before asking, ‘Has your eyesight always been poor?’
‘Only at distance.’
‘Same here.’
They carried on riding side by side in silence and Morveren pulled her hood back over her head as a heavier rain squall swept across the fields. A few miles further on their path took them down into a wooded valley and the extra protection it offered prompted them to take a rest and have some food.
Morveren was uncharacteristically withdrawn during their stop and her unwillingness to engage in conversation continued during the full day’s journey that followed. Morgund feared that she was succumbing to the fatalism of their situation and wondered if he would ever again hear the laughter that lightened his heart and fired his soul. Like Arthur before him he cursed the fate that had brought him so close to someone just as they were on the brink of losing everything.
The rain continued to fall. The sky seemed to be covered by one expanse of purposeful black cloud spilling in from the West and the thunder rolled and echoed to the tune of the blinding whips of lightning that lashed through the dim autumn light.
They passed north of the Estuary and continued deeper into the hills and valleys of West Mercia. Arthur wanted to cover at least fifty miles between each of the breaks that they took to rest and eat. And so they pushed on through the storms that covered the entire land. It was miserable travelling. They were utterly soaked despite the capes and had no immediate prospect of ever being dry again. They concentrated on putting the miles behind them and spoke little. Occasionally one of them would ride off to investigate a better view of a valley or climb a nearby vantage point to see what could be seen through the driving rain.
It was during one such excursion that Morveren finally worked up the courage to speak to Arthur about what was on her mind. They were building a lattice of branches and covering it with their capes to provide some shelter from the rain while Balor and Morgund were off exploring a nearby valley. They finished tying the capes in place and sat down under the meagre canopy with the rain dripping in a fringe all around them. They were on the edge of a thickly wooded and narrow valley and, having still not seen any sign of the Adren, Arthur had decided to attempt to light a rare fire.
Morveren watched him as he twisted the small bow around the hardwood fire stick. He placed the tip against the softer wood of the palette and began the drilling that might lead to enough of an ember to light the kindling. Whether the lit kindling would be enough to fire the damp wood was fairly doubtful but they both silently felt it was at least worth trying.
‘I wanted to thank you, Arthur.’
Arthur glanced up questioningly before returning his attention to the fire lighting.
Morveren had spent too long working up the courage to broach the subject to now let it go unsaid. ‘I wanted to thank you for accepting me into the war band. I know I wasn’t one of the best prospects.’
‘You’re the best rider we have. And I’m including the Anglians and Mercians. You’re useful with a bow and better than some with a sword. Why wouldn’t I have accepted you?’ Arthur spoke with his head bowed over the embryonic fire.
Morveren watched him, carefully trying to gauge any impatience or anger but she saw neither and pressed on, ‘And there’s everything you did for me and my village too. I wanted to thank you for that as well.’
Arthur shrugged in reply as he eased the glowing ember onto the dry straw kindling and began gently blowing on it.
Morveren glanced around the wood looking for any signs of the other two returning. She could see or hear nothing other than the rain falling through the trees. Arthur was placing small twigs around the flickering straw.
‘Arthur, are you...’
‘Yes.’
Morveren stared at him unable to finish her question or be sure of his answer. Arthur continued without looking up, ‘I am your father. Your mother said I was and at the time I thought it wa
s true. But I wasn’t sure until recently. Now I have no doubt.’ As he finished speaking he finally looked up at her and smiled before once again returning his attention to the growing but fragile fire.
Morveren looked at him dumbfounded, her mind racing but robbed of speech. She had never once thought she would be able to talk directly to Arthur about this and the fact that he was so casual about the whole matter just confounded all her expectations.
Arthur continued to build the fire, placing the damper logs in a tripod above the flames while feeding more sticks into the fire.
Morveren had no idea where to start so she started at the end, ‘Recently?’
Arthur sat back and studied her for a moment. ‘You remember back at Caer Cadarn when Ethain was retelling his tale of the Shadow Lands?
Morveren looked confused and cast around for some connection between the two subjects.
‘How did you feel as he related the story?’ Arthur asked still studying her.
‘Well, at first I was just listening like everyone else; enthralled, horrified but just desperate to find out what had happened.’
‘You wanted to know the truth didn’t you? Ceinwen doubted Ethain from the first moment she met up with Merdynn again but you were his friend and you desperately wanted to believe him.’
‘He was my friend. Ethain, Elowen, Tomas, Talan and Tamsyn – we were a close group and he was part of that. He was the last.’
‘But you heard the truth when he spoke in the hall even though he was not speaking the truth.’
‘Yes, somehow, yes. He would come to a part of the story and even though he was not lying somehow he was twisting the truth. It felt wrong, something felt wrong. When he came to the end he told straight lies and it screeched through my mind. Like iron scraping down iron – I thought I was going to be sick.’ Morveren brought her eyes up to Arthur’s.
‘That’s when you fell and I caught you.’
‘You knew I was feeling that?’
‘Yes, you’re my daughter.’
Morveren stared at him.
‘My poor distance sight is not the only sight you’ve inherited from me.’