“That dog deserves to die.” He released me, and I stepped back to stand with Olwyn. “He planted agents within my army with only one thing in mind– treachery.” He turned to his waiting warriors. “Fetch his other four men here at once.”
The four men who had come from Dinas Brent with Kelwyn and Gorsedd to join the army of the Dux Britanniarum were dragged forward by Cei and a crowd of other warriors. They’d been stripped of their armor and stood shivering in their undershirts and braccae. Their arms were bound behind them, and their ankles had been hobbled with ropes to stop them from running. Every one of them was bruised and battered, lips split and eyes blackened.
Arthur looked them up and down with disdain. “You are Melwas’s men. Your fellows swore allegiance to me when they arrived at Din Cadan, just as you four did. Yet they lied. Their intent was always to steal away the Ring Maiden, so Melwas might present her to my brother Cadwy. What do you have to say to the charge that you, too, were complicit in this plan?”
They were young men, scarcely more than boys, and not much older than Drustans, whom I’d seen with a bandage around his head. A murmur of anger rippled through the watching warriors, and those behind the four shoved them forward roughly. In their hobbles they staggered and nearly fell.
The tallest spoke up. “My Lord Arthur, we didn’t know. Kelwyn and Gorsedd are older warriors, and we weren’t privy to their plans. They were among Melwas’s most trusted men.” His voice was nasal, as though he had a cold, thanks to a crooked broken nose he’d probably not had three days earlier.
The second, a ginger-headed youth, added his pennyworth. “We didn’t even go on the hunt. They made us stay behind at Din Cadan, training. We had no part in this.” A hiss of disbelief rose from the crowd of watching warriors toward the chill winter sky.
The other two stood silent, still shivering in the biting cold, heads hanging.
Arthur fingered the hilt of his sword. “If you knew Kelwyn and Gorsedd were in his inner circle,” he said with care, narrowing his eyes, “did you not think it strange that he should let them come to me, with you four who are no more than striplings? Did you not ask yourselves whether there might be an ulterior motive?”
Easy to be wise with hindsight. Had he not noticed this himself? Had Merlin not? Did some of the blame for this lie at his own door? I didn’t want to blame him for what had happened to me, but a small part of me questioned his security levels at Din Cadan.
All four of the young men shook their heads vigorously.
From the warriors crowding close behind them came muttered suggestions of what to do with them, none of them reassuring.
Merlin moved up to stand beside Arthur. He pointed at the youngest of the four with a long, gloved finger. “Him. Question him. He knows something.”
A look of terror flashed across the boy’s acne-ridden face as Cei dragged him to stand in front of Arthur. Someone had taken his boots. His bare feet were scratched and bleeding and filthy with mud.
Silence fell amongst the watching warriors. “What is it you know?” Arthur asked, a hint of menace in his quiet voice.
The youth shook his head. “Nothing, Milord, nothing.” He swallowed. “I swear.”
“It’s in his head,” Merlin said coldly. “Waiting to be dragged out.”
“Think hard, boy.” Arthur had his sword half-drawn from its scabbard. “Your life depends on it.”
The boy gulped down a sob of fear. “I-I overheard them speaking. I didn’t know. I swear.” His eyes slid from Arthur’s angry face to Merlin’s implacable one, but studiously avoided his friends.
Merlin stood straighter. “What did you hear?”
The boy glanced from left to right as though searching for an escape, but there was none. “I wanted to go on the hunt. Kelwyn said it wasn’t possible. He was talking with Gorsedd. They said if they were lucky, the day had come– the day they’d been waiting for.”
“And you didn’t think to tell your king?” Cei reached over and grabbed him by the front of his dirty, blood-stained undershirt with a great fist. “It was yourdutyto tell your king if you heard anything like that. Why didn’t you?”
“I-I didn’t think,” the boy stammered. “I th-thought he m-meant a day to get out of the f-fortress after the snow had g-gone. I s-s-swear.” He was very fond of swearing things, but that didn’t make what he was saying true.
Merlin put a restraining hand on Cei’s arm. “He’s not lying. Let him go. He was not party to this.”
Cei released the boy and took a step back, both he and Merlin looking at Arthur for a decision.
Arthur’s face hardened. “These four will have their goods returned to them,” he said. “Their horses, too. They may have had no hand in the deeds of their countrymen, but I cannot have them within the army of the Dux.”
A rumble of angry disagreement buzzed through his warriors as though they wanted vengeance for my kidnapping, and would wreak it on these young men if they could.
Arthur frowned at them. “I must have absolute loyalty. These sorry apologies for warriors have proved this is not possible from the men of the Isle of Frogs. They have no place within our ranks. Escort them to the causeway and send them to their lord.”
The prisoners stared at him, round eyed. Perhaps they’d feared he’d exact his revenge on them and have them killed as the only men of Dinas Brent he could get his hands on. But they didn’t look as relieved as I would have expected. Maybe returning to whatever fate a furious Melwas might have in store for them was worse than remaining here with Arthur’s men, who looked as though they were only waiting for the word to tear them limb from limb.
Beside me, Olwyn stirred and pointed a wavering finger at the battered young men. “If they go back,” she intoned, her voice low, yet carrying clearly, “he’ll make an example of them. Join the Dux and this is what will happen to you. It is his way. They’re dead men walking.”
“And so they should be!” came a rough voice from the crowd. Others around him murmured in agreement.