The Du Lac Chronicles: Book 1

by Mary Yarde

  Cerdic stood at the bow of the ship, his son stood next to him, and together they watched as a small fishing vessel pulled ever closer towards them. On the mast flew a white flag. Cerdic fought down the instinct to order his archers to let loose at the vessel. He held back, waiting. He let the vessel pull closer and through the damn sea fog, he saw the younger of the du Lac brothers, Merton. Not Alden then. He had been promised Alden. He fought down his disappointment. Never mind. Merton du Lac would have to do. He admired the youngest of the du Lac brothers. He was brave and he admired bravery.

  “Merton.” Cerdic yelled his name with a hint of friendliness, as Merton and two others, guards presumably, were helped to board the Saxon ship.

  “My brother, Budic the King of Brittany, sends his compliments, but would like to know what the hell you think you are doing?” Merton stated. He had never felt so much hate before. This was the man who had tortured his brother, and he so wanted to slit the bastard’s throat.

  “I have come to claim what is mine,” Cerdic replied. “My beloved daughter is being held captive by that beast of a man you call your brother.”

  “Annis is married to Alden. You have no claim on her now, only that of a father’s love. And the gift of Cerniw would be a great wedding present, don’t you think?” Merton forced the words out from between his teeth.

  “No, I do not think. Cerniw is mine and it will stay that way. I will not allow a marriage between the two of them.”

  “The deed has been done. The marriage has been consummated; a grandchild is due early next summer. Be content.”

  “No grandchild of mine,” Cerdic snapped. “My honour has been violated by this marriage. I thought she had run mad when I had heard she had helped Alden escape. Now I know she is insane to breed with him. She is nothing but a common whore — she makes me feel sick. If she were here now I would strike her down. No woman, not even my daughter, makes a fool of me. You can tell her that when next you see her. She is nothing to me now — nothing. She is dead to me. I do not have a daughter.”

  “I will convey your message,” Merton said. “I am sure it will be well-received. But if you have renounced her, as you say you have, then surely there is no need to fight for her honour then, is there?” Merton let his words sink in, and then he smiled bitterly and turned as if to go. Cerdic remained sullenly silent.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, I have something that is yours.” Merton fished around in the pouch that hung on his sword belt and pulled out the necklace. “This is yours, I believe, but really, I don’t think the colour suits you.”

  “Where did you get that from?” Cerdic asked, snatching the necklace from Merton’s fingers.

  Merton did not answer. He saw Cynric edge away from his father and he felt disgust at such cowardly behaviour. “It’s funny, though, you owning a necklace like that. My mother used to talk of one just like it.”

  Cerdic narrowed his eyes while Merton did his best to stare innocently back. Bastian had told him the truth, although he didn’t want to believe it. But then, Bastian had never lied to him before and it made a sort of strange sense. He had felt an overwhelming anger toward his mother and he doubted he would ever forgive her. How could she have, with someone like him? Bastian had followed him when he rode away from Budic and the others. He told him not to judge her too harshly, that no one would know what really happened or what she had been thinking. And besides, Lancelot would not have married her and offered her his protection if he felt she had behaved disgracefully.

  “One more thing. I have a message from Budic. He sends his compliments with a message not to underestimate him. You may have beat Natanleod and his army of five thousand, but you will not win a war against us.”

  “I took Cerniw,” Cerdic boasted, his hands fisting around the necklace.

  “Yes, I remember. And that was very well done. You want the High Kingship, right?”

  Cerdic scowled at him.

  “I suggest in future you do not break a treaty of peace with a neighbouring nation. I’d work on that if I were you; it doesn’t inspire confidence.”

  “Alden murdered my niece and now he turns my daughter into a whore,” Cerdic snarled.

  “I never knew marriage made one a whore. Thank you so much for enlightening me. I knew there was a reason I was avoiding nuptials.”

  “Don’t mock me, boy,” Cerdic spat.

  “Alden played no part in Edmee’s death,” Merton said.

  “I have no reason to believe you.”

  “You have no reason not to, either. Turn your boat around, take your men home and withdraw from Cerniw. That is Budic’s request and my advice.”

  “And if I don’t?” Cerdic snapped.

  “You may choose the battleground: Cerniw or Brittany — Wessex, even. Today or tomorrow, it makes no difference.”

  Cerdic snorted. “Budic would let me choose the battleground?” He shook his head. “Then your brother is mad. You are all mad.”

  “Yes, I fear you are right. You have until sunset. If your ships are still here, then we will see each other again on the battlefield. Take your ships and go, My Lord.” Merton tilted his head in a half-hearted show of respect and slowly backed away, before turning around and leisurely making his way to where his guards were waiting for him. He did not fear that bastard. In fact, he longed to pick a fight with him. Any excuse to kill him. Leaving him standing there, alive, was not something he wanted to do.

  “And if I don’t?” Cerdic asked.

  Merton made himself smile and turned back around. “Budic says he will find you on the battlefield. Take you alive, and flay the skin from your back. He will do the same to your son and then he will take both your heads and claim Wessex for himself. He may have just been jesting.” Merton shrugged. “But I am not, because if he doesn’t, I will. I thought one lash for every soldier of yours that I did not kill. There will be nothing left of you by the time I have finished, that I do promise.”

  Cedric laughed at this. “Told you, did he? I considered it a form of justice — compensation, if you like. You killed some of my best men.”

  “Justice? It sounds more like petty revenge to me. Stay and I will make you regret it for the rest of your very short and painful life,” Merton answered.

  “You are a boy, Merton, playing in a man’s world.”

  “Am I? It doesn’t say much for your best soldiers, then, if they are beaten by a boy,” Merton challenged and Wessex narrowed his eyes. “One day your army will shiver when they hear my name.”

  Cerdic laughed loudly at that. “It’s rare to find someone so young and so fearless. If you were of a mind to change allegiances, I could make you a very rich man. Richer than you ever imagined you could be. I could make you a king; you could have your own kingdom.”

  “Do you really believe you could sway me with the promise of money and power? Don’t insult me. You have until sunset to make your decision. Choose wisely. Good day, my Lord.”

  “What the hell do you think you were doing?” Budic demanded the moment Merton’s feet touched the sand.

  Merton faked a smile. “I was just offered a kingdom.” Merton said, raising his eyebrows. “Imagine that! A kingdom of my own.”

  “What did you say to him?” Budic had no time for Merton’s riddles.

  “I have given him until sunset to leave,” Merton said.

  “You have given him that long? You are generous.” The sun was already beginning to dip. Cerdic had less than an hour. “You are lucky you are not dead. You had no right. I didn’t give you permission to go and talk to him.”

  “Someone needed to.”

  “It is Alden’s war.”

  “I had a feeling you would say that.” Merton turned his head and looked at the boats. “We are brothers. I think you forget that sometimes.”

  “I don’t forget. What do you think he will do?” Budic asked throu
gh clenched teeth.

  “Fight. That is all a man like him knows.”

  “He will, now that you have gone and bloody picked one,” Budic said. He kicked at the sand. “You idiot.”

  “I am not an idiot,” Merton said, turning back around to face his brother. “I have a brilliant idea, but we haven’t got long. Will you hear me out?”

  “It better be good, or you are spending the rest of your life in the dungeons.”

  “Fantastic, can I rearrange the furniture?”

  “Shut up,” Budic replied.

  23

  The sky darkened. Alden watched the last of the daylight fade away. Cerdic’s boats were still anchored a little offshore, although now little lights shone from them. In the dusk they looked harmless, beautiful almost, with the flickering lights of the candles. Cerdic had chosen not to catch the tide and travel homeward. Alden had not really thought that he would.

  His brothers were on either side of him. Merton’s destrier was chomping at the bit and tossing his head with impatience. His own horse was quiet, contemplating the view, as he was.

  “He can see us.” Budic stated, backing his horse up four steps before turning the animal around so he could face this small fraction of his army that he had chosen in order to show Cerdic the strength of his numbers. Budic could double the number of those that stood before him if he wanted to.

  Torches burned brightly, casting ghostly shadows on the armour and the weapons. Damn it all, he would be scared to face this army. An unsettling sense of foreboding ran down his back. He had seen this scene in a dream, men on horses, enemy boats in the sea. Alden shook off the fancy. It was just his imagination running away with him.

  Flanking the side of these chosen few were Budic’s cavalry. They were the best in the world. No man, however fearless and courageous, would stand their ground against the might of the Breton warriors and their steeds. That was a fact.

  “He has seen us,” Bastian confirmed, riding towards his king.

  “He has indeed and there is a boat coming shoreward,” Merton said, pointing towards the sea, where a small boat bobbed on the current. A white flag, barely visible, was fluttering in the evening sky.

  Alden tried to imagine what they looked like to those waiting below. He would not want to look up at the enemy, where archers with arrows nocked, waited to kill anything that moved. The white flag flapped in the breeze, and Alden remembered his own white flag, the flag of truce, which Cerdic had so thoroughly disregarded.

  “Get someone down there. See who it is,” Budic ordered and Bastian turned his horse around sharply, shouting orders.

  Alden raised his head and watched as the boat pulled the Saxon aggressor closer to the shore. He breathed out slowly, as he tried to slow his racing heart.

  “I have your back,” Merton said in an undertone.

  “I’m fine,” Alden snapped back, but he did not turn to look at his brother.

  Merton had sought him out and apologised, but he was not ready to forgive him, not yet anyway.

  Row faster, he said to himself as he watched the boat battle the current. He wanted to get this over and done with. Budic’s man was on the beach now, his horse’s tail and mane blowing along with the du Lac standard in the breeze.

  At last, the boat made ground and the occupants departed. Budic’s knight spoke to the men ashore briefly and then turned his horse and galloped back towards the waiting army. Alden watched his progress as he encouraged his horse up the steep embankment of the cliff path.

  “It is Cerdic himself, or so he claims,” the knight said as he pulled his horse to an abrupt halt in front of his King.

  “What does he want?” Budic asked.

  “To talk.”

  “To talk? Tell him I have seen how he ‘talks’ to his enemies. Tell him I will not come to him. If he wants to talk then he comes to me. Alone. And do not think to give him your horse, do you understand? He showed my brother no such clemency.”

  The knight nodded, smirking slightly at his King’s request. It would be his pleasure to give that arrogant Saxon bastard something to think about. He turned his horse back towards the path that led down to the beach.

  “I wonder what he wants to talk about?” Merton asked, a smile threatening.

  “Probably about the furniture you are going to have in the dungeons,” Budic stated. “Perhaps the two of you could share a cell.”

  “You make my heart bleed, Budic,” Merton said, smiling, although Budic merely glowered back at him.

  “He will list his woes at my deflowering of his precious daughter and how he expects to be compensated for the insult,” Alden stated, turning his horse around. He couldn’t face him. He thought he could, but he couldn’t. On a battlefield, maybe he could, but not like this.

  “You will hold your ground. I will not have it said that my brother is a coward.” It was Merton that spoke and his voice was sharp. “Be brave,” he added.

  Alden gritted his teeth. Merton was right. Of course he was right. He turned his horse back around and waited. He waited as if he were waiting for death. He could smell it, smell that courtyard, smell his own blood.

  “I’ve got your back.” Merton said again. “Nothing will happen to you. I won’t allow it.”

  Was his fear so plain to see? Could it be so easily read on his face? Did everyone know of it? Budic was looking at him; he could feel it, but he would not raise his eyes to meet him. Instead, he focused on his horse’s ears and gripped the reins tighter.

  Cerdic kept them waiting, and the longer they waited the more fearful Alden became. He felt the coldness of sweat break out on his brow, and he knew his breathing was shallow as Cerdic made his way ever closer.

  “Budic of Brittany,” Cerdic said with a smile on his face, as if he had been taking an evening stroll and had stumbled upon old friends. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He looked at Merton, irony shining in his eyes. “At last,” he added. He then turned his attention back to Budic.

  Alden forced himself to focus on his younger brother.

  “Be strong,” Merton mouthed the words. “I am here.”

  “Cerdic of Wessex, I find myself unable to return the compliment,” Budic replied to the King of Wessex.

  “I came here in peace.” Cerdic said coldly.

  “You do not bring your fleet to my shores and then talk of peace. You broke the peace treaty with Cerniw. You took my brother, the King of Cerniw, captive. And then you beat him. I believe you would have killed him if fate had not intervened. So do not come here and talk of peace, for I want no part in your version of it. Merton told you my terms. As you are still here, I assume you have decided to fight.”

  “I want my daughter,” Cerdic stated, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “Just my daughter as any father would. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you, Budic? Your wife being as she is.”

  “And if I gave you your daughter?” Budic asked, ignoring Cerdic’s slight.

  “Budic?” Alden started to speak, but Merton touched his arm lightly and shook his head.

  “Then I would take my ships and go home. I just want her returned to me. Her mother misses her dreadfully; you cannot even imagine her grief.”

  “It must be very hard,” Budic commiserated.

  “Yes, it must be a bitter blow for her to know that her daughter is married into the most powerful family in Briton. That she is safe and well cared for and expecting her first child,” Merton added dryly.

  “Your family name means nothing to me. Am I supposed to be grateful that your brother abducted and raped her?”

  “Raped her?” Alden said, as anger replaced the fear.

  “Yes, raped her,” Cerdic spat. “I can see you would think it a fitting revenge, to deflower a young, unworldly girl; but when I look at you, all I see is a beaten man down on his knees begging for mercy.”

&nb
sp; “Mercy for my people.”

  “For yourself.”

  “Then you heard my words not at all. I am not surprised, for I never really thought you were listening anyway.”

  “That is enough,” Budic interrupted.

  “I can imagine it is hard to hear you have a coward in the family,” Cerdic agreed. “Cerniw is mine. You have lost her. I do not recognise my daughter’s marriage to you; I have made a more advantageous alliance for her.”

  “I don’t think you can actually do that,” Merton said. “It isn’t legal, in any kingdom.”

  “A daughter is ruled by her father.”

  “A wife is ruled by her husband and her King,” Budic replied. “Annis du Lac is my brother’s wife and she sought sanctuary at my court. I granted her sanctuary and she is under my protection. You cannot have her. Did you think to come here to change my mind? Are you hoping to scare me into compliance?”

  “You do not strike me, Your Majesty, as a man who welcomes warfare.” Cerdic said.

  Budic snorted on a laugh and Merton frowned; he caught Alden’s gaze and again he shook his head.

  “I have a proposition,” Cerdic continued. “I am willing to fight Alden to the death in one-to-one combat. The winner takes all.”

  “I would honour that fight,” Alden said, dismounting from his horse and withdrawing his sword.

  “No,” Merton said. “Absolutely no way.”

  “It would resolve the matter, once and for all,” Budic said, seemingly amused.

  “Alden, stand down,” Merton said as he too dismounted.

  “What are you doing?” Alden hissed angrily to Merton in Cerniw.

  “Watching your back,” Merton answered. “Budic, he is on your soil; are you really going to let him dictate the terms?’

  “Then what do you propose, Merton?” Cerdic asked, sneering. “A cockfight?”

  “I believe I have already given you the terms. You were to sail your army away from our shore by sunset; not to do so would be to consent to an act of war. Night has fallen in upon us and you are still here.”