“Good work, Lord Wylde. Still have a good sword arm after all these years.”
The wounded man studied Wylde intently. “So you are Lord Wylde, the great Dragon Lord of Dinefwr,” he said with a tone of sarcasm.
Everyone turned their attention to the young man. “I am,” said Wylde. “And who are you? I see you are on the wrong side,” he replied and glancing at the black dragon emblem on his surcote.
“That’s your opinion,” said the young man spitefully.
“Were you sent to look for Lord Dinefwr?” asked Sir Jamie.
“No, of course not,” said the first young man. “We were sent to search these hills, that’s all.”
“Oh and that’s why you were looking through our knapsacks in the middle of the night,” asked Sir Alfred.
“We didn’t know if you were friend or foe,” said the wounded man.
“What are your names?” asked Sir Jamie.
There was no reply from either of them and Sir Jamie asked again. “What are your names? What houses are you from?”
The first man finally spoke up. “My name is Balin, sir. Percival Balin.”
“Little traitor!” the other man spit at him. “I’ll never tell you my name.” and he turned to Percival. “Don’t you dare tell them my name or you’ll be sorry!”
“Alright Percival, what’s your friends name?” asked Pryderi.
“I don’t know sir. Never met him before tonight.”
“Careful answer,” said Pryderi.
“I think it’s time we got on horses and headed out of here,” said Sir Jamie. “We’ll worry about his name later. Who knows how many others know these two are up here? I say we get moving straight away.”
They were on their horses and back on the road within the hour in the darkness. For the first hour they were under the heavy covering of trees moving up a hillside and it was pitch black and scary and now they had two prisoners. They rode along at a walking pace and everyone was very quiet and Gwen could hear every little sound, every twig that snapped, and birds chirping. A night hawk was squawking somewhere in the distance and Gwen took a deep breath and kept moving. After an hour the sky became light and they came out into the open over the top of a ridge. The sun on Gwen’s face felt inviting and warm and she felt free and invigorated. But it was then she heard a rumbling sound in the near distance. It was loud and it echoed off the hills and they all stopped their horses and listened. “What is that noise?” asked Gwen looking around in all directions. Everyone looked just as puzzled as her but Sir Jamie was most concerned and he dismounted his horse and moved towards the edge of the ridge. Everyone moved cautiously closer as the sound seemed to vibrate and get louder and then suddenly just below appeared the most terrifying sight. The dragon army appeared just below the ridge and they clustered together a huge lot of them dressed in black and silver armour. They were a terrifying sight. “Look,” said Trystan.
“Yes, I see,” said Pryderi. “We should ride below the ridge top in the tree line until they are gone. Perhaps they are looking for their two missing men.”
“This is all unbelievable,” said Gwen. “This is really happening. I mean I know father has suspected him of wanting to take the throne for some time but I never thought that . . . ”
“It would ever happen,” Pryderi finished.
“Yes,” she responded.
“Don’t be disheartened my dear. He hasn’t won yet,” said Lord Wylde. “He may have overcome the Southern regions but the Northern clans are a strong force that will defeat him.”
It was most unnerving as they continued riding along for Gwen was well aware that their enemy was directly below them and should they make a wrong move or accidentally be seen it would be a dreadful failure for how would they ever escape such an army of dreadful men. They moved upward further into the hills and it was like climbing a great obstacle and Gwen had never felt such fear as they moved along but she prayed quietly as they rode along in dire silence.
The following day she rode with more ease as she noticed the dragon army had taken a turn somewhere and rode in a different direction and she felt as though she could breathe again but the ideas of the enchanted Gwydyr Forest came flooding through her mind like a waterfall and she moved around every bend and valley with caution as if someone would jump out and frighten her. Gwen didn’t believe Trystan’s tales of elves for Gwen didn’t believe in elves but she was aware that outlaws roamed the hills and they would often hijack the likes of road travellers such as herself and her companions.
On the other side of the hills, Gwendolyn could see a long stretch of road below and miles of green hills in front of them. “Where are we?” she asked.
“You made it through the Gwydyr Forest,” said Pryderi with a proud smile.
“Really?” she was so relieved. She felt very important. She had managed such a long ride through dangerous terrains with the likes of such important riders as Sir Jamie and Prince Pryderi and Lord Wylde. She was very proud of herself and couldn’t wait to tell Merry. She knew Merry would appreciate her achievement.
“Yes,” Sir Jamie confirmed. “The road below us is the North Road that will take us to Berwyck.
Gwen sighed with relief and in less than an hour they were on the road heading north, a group of ten of them including their two prisoners who were on their horses and hands secured with one connected to Sir Robert and the other to Sir William. It was a road well-traveled as they rode through a luscious green valleys and dales all the way to the northern hills which bordered Northumbria. It was a spectacular area and the ride was smooth. They rode for days and it was on the fifth day that Gwen saw the outline of a castle appear on the horizon. Gwen thought it must be a magnificent structure as Jamie had informed them it was still half a day’s ride away. They rode along at a casual pace and Pryderi smiled at Gwen proudly. “I’m proud of you Gwen. You’ve managed this journey so well. I mean, it’s a journey that can be difficult for the best of riders and you handled it well. I’m impressed.”
Gwen was astounded. She never expected such a compliment from the Prince of Gwynedd. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“Well you certainly are a different lady.”
“What do you mean?” she asked
“I mean you’re tough and courageous.”
“To be honest, I’ve had a lot of fun,” she smiled back. “It’s a journey I’ll never forget.”
“It’s a journey none of us will forget very soon, dear Lady Gwendolyn,” said Lord Wylde and he glanced at the two young men tied and secured on their mounts. “I daresay it will be a journey neither of you will forget soon either,” he grinned. “Have you ever been to the north?” he asked the two prisoners.
“No,” said Percival.
“No sir, I have not,” said the second.
Wylde studied the young disagreeable man who refused to reveal his name. He guessed he was probably around twenty years of age and well-bred from the sound of his accent. “I suppose you are from a wealthy house. What are you doing in the Duke’s service?”
“You sir are a dragon Lord. Why are you a lion supporter? You’ve betrayed your allegiance!”
“Is that what you think?” asked Wylde.
“Well I know for a fact that you supported the Duke of Redforte at one time, you were a Lord of the Red Council and . . . you were betrothed to his sister.”
Wylde froze. “How did you know that?” he asked firmly.
“Why shouldn’t I know? Everyone does!”
“No,” said Wylde. “Everyone knows that I supported the Duke at one time but not everyone knows about my betrothal to his sister. How did you know?” he asked again.
There was a moment of silence and the young man looked up “So you admit it. You broke your allegiance.”
“What is your name?” asked Wylde again firmly. The young man glared back at Wylde stubbornly and he was persistent and he would not reveal his name and as he turned away, Wylde caught sight of a gold chain around his neck
holding a gold cross. It was a strange fascination indeed for a young dragon knight to be wearing a cross and he studied it more carefully for there was something familiar about it. But at that moment there was a rumbling noise in the distance and the ground seemed to shake. They paused and looked in all directions.
“What is it?” asked Gwen anxiously.
To the east was a cloud of dust that after a few moments became clearer. A fine black line moved closer and closer. “Is that what I think it is?” asked Sir Trystan.
“I believe so,” said Lord Wylde. “It’s the army that passed below us back in the Gwydyr Forest. Perhaps your friends are looking for you,” said Wylde to the two prisoners.
“What do we do now?” asked Gwen in a panic.
“How far are we from the Northern border?” asked Pryderi with urgency.
“A few miles at least,” said Sir Jamie. “The border is well fortified. The Earl of Northumbria has set up an army of men along the border. We’ll be safe once we reach the border and the walls of Northgate castle. The castle runs along the riverside. Its banks are overflowing at the time of year. The dragon army would have to travel some twenty miles to get across rather than risk being swept away by the currents.
“We best get moving. They’re closing in and we still have at least a few miles to go.”
They urged their horse onward into full gallop and Gwen stayed close to Pryderi not once looking back but she could hear the rumbling getting louder and louder behind her. At one corner however she turned and looked. They were closing in and they started firing arrows at them. “Duck Gwen!” Pryderi shouted. “They’re firing at us!” he yelled.
“We’re nearly there!” shouted Sir Jamie. “Keep going! I can see the towers of Northgate Castle!
Gwen urged her horse with all her might and Pryderi stayed close to make sure she didn’t lose pace and arrows were flying over their shoulders and the sound of hundreds of horses echoed around them. Gwen looked up and could see the massive structure called Northgate. She had heard much about it. It was conveniently situated along the border and was the home of her father’s cousin Lord Henry Grey. It was a massive structure with a huge wall some forty feet in height and spanning the entire length of the town of Northgate. The armies of the northern clans patrolled the border. It was a well- fortified area with a river in between the north road and the castle.
The avenue to the castle gate house and bridge was now in view and Gwen could barely breathe and suddenly she heard a whizzing sound and she looked up to see arrows moving past her. It was then Sir Robert was pierced and he rolled out of the saddle and fell to the ground. The rope between him and his prisoner split and Percival Balin turned and headed back in the other direction towards the dragon army. Gwen gasped and pulled her horse back. Pryderi yelled. “Gwen! Come on!”
She gave her horse a hard kick and he flew forward and the army of men was nearly upon them. In seconds she reached Pryderi and they were galloping towards the castle again with horses on their tale. Everything was a blur and Gwen could see Jamie raising the Lion banner and the drawbridge coming down and the gates of Northgate moving back. Arrows were whizzing past in both directions. They rode over the bridge just in time and Gwen heard a great thud and knew the gate had closed behind her. The knocking sound of arrows could be heard as they hit the drawbridge which was now closed. They were safe for now.
She was breathing heavily as Pryderi pulled her off the horse and she fell into his arms and cried. Pryderi held her tightly and looked up at Sir Jamie who was now standing in the courtyard and looking around to see if all of them made it and he instantly noticed that Sir Robert was missing.
“I’m sorry,” said Pryderi with tears in his eyes. “There was no time to help him.” Jamie nodded weakly and turned and headed towards the castle.
Northgate sat on a hill about half a mile from the castle walls. They rested while a battle raged outside and Gwen thought it ironic that the journey had gone from peace and excitement to one of turmoil and urgency. According to Pryderi they were lucky as only one had fallen. So he had informed them the next morning as they had breakfast in the Great Hall.
“I think we were lucky that we made it here with only one fallen considering the fact we had an army of men behind us,” said Pryderi glancing at each one of them soulfully. “But let us not forget our fallen friend, Robert Alton. Remember his family in your prayers.”
“You’re right,” said Sir Jamie. “We were lucky we made it here alive. God and his angels were watching over us. And now we must finish the journey we started. We’ve been here two days now. It’s time we headed north.”
“But how?” asked Gwen. “There is an army of dragons out there.”
“It’s simple,” said Pryderi. “We go out the back door.”
“Back door?” asked Gwen.
“Yes, Pryderi is right,” said Sir Jamie. “We leave through the north gate of the castle and head up into the hills. It’s our best chance and by the time that army find a way across the river we will be days ahead of them.”
“When do we leave?” asked Trystan.
“As soon as you can saddle your horses,” said Sir Jamie glancing at the shocked looks on each face. “Tomorrow at first light.”
“What about the prisoner?” asked Lord Wylde.
“Is there any reason to take him north with us?” asked Sir Jamie. “We could leave him here in the hands of Lord Grey.”
“Yes,” said Lord Grey. “He will be tried and sentenced.”
Wylde had a funny feeling about it all for there was something about the lad that bothered him and he noticed it from the moment he first saw him swinging his sword at him. “Well, why don’t we take him. He is a dragon warrior. He might be able to shed some light on the dragon stronghold.”
Pryderi grinned sarcastically. “I doubt that. We can’t even get his name out of him. Who would know more than you know about the dragon stronghold? Unless he happened to be part of Wyvern’s family,” he chuckled.
“I know who he is,” spoke a voice at the table and everyone turned to see Lord Grey’s son Archibald seated at the table. He was a young warrior in his early twenties.
“What did you say?” asked Pryderi.
“I know who he is,” he smiled.
“Well don’t leave us in suspense young man, who is he?” asked Lord Wylde sitting forward in the chair.
“I’m sorry I would have said earlier, I just assumed you knew. His name is Uther Ulric. He is the only son and heir of Wolf Ulric.”
“Ulric,” Wylde said softly as tales of woe flooded his thoughts and everyone in the room repeated the name as well.
“Are you sure of this?” asked Sir Jamie.
“Absolutely sir. I met him last year at the Regent’s tournament at Alnwyck. The dragon’s challenge. It was quite a tournament. The young man I remember very well. He had exceptional skills. I was very impressed. I would never forget his face or his name and the fuss everyone made over his presence. The Duke of Redforte’s nephew rides at the dragon’s challenge. Everyone calls him the Dragon Prince.”
“If this is true then that means he is the son of . . . Lillian Wyvern, the sister of the Duke. We may have the Duke’s nephew in this very dungeon,” said Lord Grey.
“Yes,” said Wylde with a disturbed look on his face.
“Just what were that young man’s orders? Why was he there looking through our knapsacks?” asked Sir Alfred.
“Shall we bring the young man up and ask him,” said Pryderi with a chuckle.
“Ask him?” said Wylde.
“That’s a grand idea,” said Lord Grey and he summoned the guard. “Could you please have the prisoner brought up here.”
“Of course sir,” said the guard and he disappeared.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” said Wylde. “He’s not going to say anything.”
“We’ll just have a quaint chat with him and see what we can make of it all,” said Pryderi.
“From
what I remember, his lips were sealed,” said Sir Alfred.
The young man was led into the great hall and seated between Sir Jamie and Pryderi at the long table and directly across from Lord Wylde.
“Good evening young man,” said Lord Grey. “Welcome to the house of Grey.” The young man looked up cautiously and nodded. “Have something to eat. You look like you need some meat on those bones.”
“Thank you Lord Grey,” he said with some reluctance for he couldn’t understand the sudden change of treatment. Only moments ago he was in a dungeon and now he was seated at Lord Grey’s table enjoying good food and wine.
“Or shall we say, Welcome Uther Ulric,” said Sir Jamie and everyone waited for his reaction.
Uther slowly chewed through the bread thinking of what to say. He washed the bread down with a sip of wine and smiled. “So you figured me out,” he replied relaxing into the chair and trying to be brave and confident.
“So let me get this straight, you are the son of Wolf Ulric and Lillian Wyvern?” asked Pryderi.
There was a moment of silence and the young man sighed deeply and looked up and when he did his eyes met with the old dragon Lord, Wylde. “Yes,” he replied uneasily.
“So this means you are the nephew of the Duke of Redforte?” asked Sir Jamie and everyone waited for his reply again.
“Yes,” he finally said.
“There was a young dragon warrior who ended up in the dungeon some years ago,” said Lord Grey. “But I never expected the Duke’s very own nephew.”
Uther sighed deeply again and looked up at them and again and at the dragon Lord of Dinefwr. This man had haunted him for years. “So if you are going to hang me, hurry up and be done with it. Only please tell my mother I love her and give her this gold cross I wear around my neck.” He unlaced it and laid it on the table and Gwen noticed the expression in Dinefwr’s eyes widened. “You see it was hers once and she gave it to me when I turned fourteen. She told me that my father had given it to her.” At that moment Uther looked up and again passed a swift glance with Wylde.
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