Page 43 of The Dragon Ring

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Merlin shifted uncomfortably. I racked my brains for what legends could tell me of Morgana. Was she Morgana le Fay? Didn’t she learn magic from Merlin and then lock him up in a crystal cave for evermore? Or was that Nimuë? That could hardly be the Morgana they were talking about. Could it?

“We’ve got one that’s still alive,” Cei said, “What d’you want us to do with him?”

Arthur set his jaw. “We’ll question him.”

Bedwyr and another man dragged the Saxon into the firelight. He’d lost his helmet, one side of his head caked in blood, one of his trouser legs dark with it. Someone had almost cut off his left ear. It still hung by a piece of skin. They threw him down on the ground in front of Arthur, where he lay on his face, breathing heavily.

Theodoric kicked him. “Get on your knees, Saxon.”

The Saxon turned his head and spat an oath at Theodoric in a language I couldn’t understand. It sounded vituperative. Theodoric kicked him again and the man doubled up in pain. Already blood from his leg was pooling in a dark shadow on the ground. If no one did anything, he was going to die.

Theodoric and Bedwyr dragged him onto his knees. He knelt there, swaying slightly, blood running down his neck. It came as a shock to see that he was young. Scarcely more than a boy. No long moustache like Theodoric, just a blonde fuzz on upper lip and cheeks. He couldn’t have been more than a teenager. I felt a pang of sorrow for him, until I saw his eyes.

From beneath a heavy brow they glared back at us in open defiance, full of hatred.

“Who sent you?” Arthur asked.

The young Saxon spat. A glob of bloody phlegm landed on Arthur’s boots. Arthur stepped forwards and, seizing a large handful of that bloodstained blond hair, yanked the Saxon’s head backwards. A dagger flashed in his hand and came to rest with the point just beneath the young man’s right eye. “Who sent you? I won’t ask again.”

There was a pregnant silence. The tip of the dagger dug into the flesh of the Saxon’s cheek, and fresh blood trickled down toward his chin. My heart was in my mouth. The boy was wavering. He was young, too young, and he was afraid of losing his eye.

“I not know.” His thick, guttural accent was hard to understand. “Not tell me. Captain say take girl. That all I know.”

“Where were you stationed?”

“City. Big city.”

“What city?”

The boy’s lower lip trembled. “Not know. British city.”

The dagger didn’t waver. Arthur looked back at Merlin. “Well? Is he telling the truth?”

Merlin was silent for a moment. I turned my head to look at him, but his face was veiled and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Then he nodded.

Arthur let the dagger drop. The boy’s body relaxed.

“Take him away and kill him.” Arthur’s voice cut through the silence.

Bedwyr and Theodoric started to drag the Saxon away. He began to scream. Had he thought that if he answered Arthur his life would be spared? The screaming was suddenly silenced. I was too shocked even to move.

“That’s a pity,” Arthur said, matter of factly. “I would have liked some evidence to prove my brother sent these men.”

I found my voice at last. “You think these men were sent to kidnap me? By your brother?”

He nodded, sheathing his dagger. “My sister, Morgana, inherited the Sight from our mother. She learned her lessons alongside me, from Merlin, and then while Cei and I were at sword practice she learned his secrets– more than we ever could. She will have seen you coming.”

The how was not important. If I decided to believe in magic, that was. The why was more intriguing.

So I asked him. “Why? Why would she send men after me?”

It was Merlin who answered. “She sides with Cadwy. She always has. It’s my fault. She wanted to learn more from me and I refused to teach her. So she found her own way of learning, and Cadwy helped her. He’s her brother as well as Arthur’s. She won’t have sent those men herself. She’ll have warned Cadwy of our imminent arrival. It’s he who’s sent these Saxons against us. From amongst his Foederati.”

“Foederati?”

“Saxon mercenaries. The usurper Guorthegirn hired them first more than sixty years ago. They came and settled, and now there are Saxons in every king’s army. They’re on our side. They have as little love for the new invaders as we have ourselves.”

Theodoric came back. I looked up at him. Fresh blood speckled his hands and face. “Ishea Saxon Foederati?”