Page 49 of The Bear's Heart
Cocidius trembled with fear. As well he might; Arthur was a tall man clad in armor with a fearsome sword at his side, surrounded by a host of other large warriors. “I-I didn’t see,” he began, in a voice small with terror.
“Nonsense.” Arthur kept his own voice level with difficulty. “We know you are the steward here for Euddolen and his wife. You were here when the soldiers came. Weren’t you?” It wasn’t a question– rather, an accusation.
Cocidius looked about furtively as though he might find help somewhere, or a place to hide. Finding nothing, he gave the smallest of nods.
“So, tell me.” Arthur’s hands balled into fists by his sides. “What did you see?”
Cocidius licked dry lips. “We-we was out in the fields.” He glanced around, as though fearing he would be struck. “We saw the soldiers come.”
“Which soldiers?”
He trembled. “The-the king’s. His foederati.”
That wasn’t news. Even I’d guessed this must be the work of Cadwy. But for him to have sent his Saxon mercenaries and not his own British-born soldiers seemed somehow even worse.
Arthur’s dark brows came together in a heavy frown, momentarily giving him a look of his hated older brother. “What happened?”
Cocidius cringed. “We-we ’eard screaming and we ’id.” The words hung in the still air.
For a brief moment, I boiled with rage at how Euddolen’s people had hidden when danger threatened their master and his family. And then realization swept over me– there was nothing these peasants could have done other than lose their lives or end up like Cutha. Given these circumstances, I, too, would have hidden to save my own skin.
Arthur’s jaw twitched, the vein pulsing in his neck. “And did you see what happened to your master?” He was angry, maybe not given to putting himself in the place of others. No wonder Cocidius was so afraid.
The headman nodded almost imperceptibly. “We-we watched. In case there were something we could do.” He paused, his eyes faraway and pained, perhaps reliving what he’d seen and how impotent he’d felt. “There weren’t. They loaded up all the servants and slaves into wagons. Some was wounded, I think. There were blood on ’em.”
The story came in dribs and drabs, jerky and unsettlingly raw.
“They carried the master into the farmyard. Covered in blood, ’e were, like ’e were dead. I didn’t see ’is girls. I couldn’t watch. I ’ad to turn away.” He licked his lips again. “They took ’em all, and all the livestock, too. Two days gone. We been ’iding in the village ever since, afeard they’d be back.” He raised his eyes to Arthur’s in supplication. “There weren’t nothing we could do. We’ve little’uns of our own, that no one would care for if we got ourselves killed. We couldn’t ’elp the master.”
Arthur was silent. By his sides, his fists clenched and unclenched. He turned away from Cocidius. “Send him back to his family.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
Cocidius needed no urging. He ran, scuttling between the ranks of soldiers and out of the courtyard, probably glad to have escaped without any retribution.
Arthur turned to Cei and Merlin, his brows still creased in a heavy frown. “I should never have left them here so close to Viroconium, or believed Cadwy’s assurances of their safety. I know him. He’s ever been a liar and a bully. I should have guessed what he’d do. Promises mean nothing to him.”
The sun beat down on the back of my neck, and sweat trickled between my shoulder blades, thanks to my mail shirt. I thought of Euddolen’s two lively teenage daughters, Albina and Cloelia, taken prisoner by a horde of Saxon savages. Of Morgawse and her little son. And Ummidia, who’d been swept up by her husband’s support for Arthur in his bid for the throne of Dumnonia. All of these people were innocent and yet embroiled in this. And who knew what had befallen them in the last two days?
“We can’t attack Cadwy,” Merlin said in a low voice. “He’s safe within the walls of Viroconium. And if we did, I’d not give a pig’s ear for the chance of any of his prisoners staying alive.”
Arthur nodded. “I know. But we can’t leave them. Euddolen might well be dead, but his family are innocent. We came to take Morgawse south to Caer Legeion to join Theodoric, and I refuse to leave without her.”
I batted the irritating flies, that were everywhere in the farmyard, away with my hand.
“It’s odd this only happened two days ago,” Cei remarked. “Almost as though Cadwy knew we were coming this way. It’s past midsummer– he’s had a long time to take revenge on them and not made a move. Why now?”
Merlin shook his head. “To provoke Arthur. Morgana will have warned him. She must have seen us coming.”
They fell silent.
I watched their faces. From somewhere close by, a grasshopper chirped– the sound of summer.
Arthur broke the silence first. “We have to go to Viroconium and get them back by means other than warfare. That’s the only thing we can do. Merlin’s quite right when he says we can’t attack. I suspect Cadwy wants us to, and that’s why he’s done this. But we’ll call his bluff and ride into Viroconium as allies. Then we’ll see what he does. If his aim is to discredit the role of the Dux Britanniarum, then we won’t give him the chance.”
I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. When Arthur had faced Cadwy down before, the city had been filled with kings from all over Britain, witnesses to anything Cadwy might try. And even then, Cadwy had tried to poison Arthur and me. None of us would be safe riding into the lion’s den.
I wasn’t the only one of this opinion.
“You can’t do that,” Cei said. “If he’s killed Euddolen and taken his family after promising their safety, you’d be giving yourself up to him. D’you think he’d blink at doing the same to you? His reasons are obvious. He thinks he might goad you into attacking Viroconium, which would give him a good excuse to fight back and destroy you. Or he hopes you might be foolish enough to enter his city under minimal guard. In which case you’ll have a handy accident, for sure.”
