Page 55 of The Bear's Heart
But I had no time to allow myself to descend into shock. Wiping my mouth on my sleeve, I straightened up and looked toward the fighting.
A body lay spreadeagled on the ground. All three horsemen were still mounted, so it had to be one of the Saxons. One of the men on foot broke away from the fight and began to run down the path the way they’d come.
“Don’t let him get away!” Drustans’ voice rose above the noise of battle, and the young man who’d been fighting the Saxon wrenched his mount round and charged after him. The warhorse crashed into the running man, sending him flying. The British youth yanked the beast into a handbrake turn, pulling it into a rear above the prone Saxon, and its hooves came smashing down on his head with a sickening crunch, just as it had been trained to do. Lumps of grey matter and blood sprayed across horse and path alike.
My stomach heaved again, and I had to clasp my hands together in an effort to stop them shaking.
Outnumbered three to one, the remaining Saxon raised his hands in the eternal gesture for surrender, as the three young British warriors surrounded him, swords extended.
“Drop your weapons,” Drustans commanded as his two friends dismounted.
With a surly look from beneath heavy blond brows, the Saxon did as he was told, and Drustans, too, slid off his horse.
In the wagon, Morgana clambered, unnoticed by anyone but me, into the driver’s seat and gathered up the reins, her eyes narrowing as they searched the surrounding trees, possibly for signs of our reinforcements. Was she deciding what her safest move would be and how to twist this situation to her own advantage?
On the ground by my feet, Ummidia still lay unmoving, covered in her own blood. Turning my back on the dead driver, determined not to think about what I’d just done, I went down on my knees at her side, terrified she, too, might be dead. Her eyes had swollen shut, but when I touched her cheek with a trembling hand, they fluttered open. Fear flashed across her battered face.
Above me, in the wagon, a voice hissed out, serpent-like and vicious. “You!” I’d forgotten Morgana had the Sight and would know me despite my disguise.
Heedless of her, I pulled off my helmet, glad of the air on my sweaty skin, and addressed Ummidia, my voice as shaky as my hand. “It’s me. Gwen.” Confusion fogged Ummidia’s bloodshot eyes. I sought for words of reassurance– for me as well as for her. “You’re safe now. All of you are. We…m-my men have killed three of your captors and have the fourth a prisoner.” Turning my back on Morgana made the space between my shoulder blades itch as though she were about to plunge a dagger between them, just as I’d done to the driver a moment ago. It took all my self-control not to look over my shoulder, and to keep my trembling jaw steady. Any moment now I was going to burst into tears.
A shadow moved across us, and Ummidia cowered in fear. I glanced up as fearfully as her, but it was Drustans standing over us, looking menacing in his blood spattered armor. “How close is the rest of the army?” he asked, with urgency. “We have to know if more soldiers are coming this way.”
Ummidia stared at us dumbly, probably too dazed to respond.
It was Morgawse who answered, from her seat in the back of the wagon, clutching her baby to her chest. “They’re setting a trap for Arthur.” She shoved the still crying baby into Albina’s arms. “Hold him. Properly. And stop blubbing. We’re safe now.” With a desperate glance at Morgana, who was still sitting on the driver’s bench, Morgawse climbed out of the wagon to stand looking down at Ummidia.
This determined young woman didn’t sound much like the Morgawse I’d met before.
She turned to Drustans. “Cadwy sent us out of the way of his army…and yours…he thought. They’re massed to the south of Din Bassas, waiting for his signal. When it comes, they’re going to attack Arthur. Cadwy will let Arthur and his men leave the island first. That way, Cadwy’s men will be both behind and in front. A huge force of Cadwy’s warriors and foederati is lying in wait.”
She looked back at Morgana on the driver’s seat. “Shewas to bring us up after the battle.” A curious mixture of contempt and sorrow mingled in Morgawse’s voice, as though she’d finally realized that her beloved older sister wasn’t the heroine she’d always thought.
Morgana drew herself up taller. “He made me,” she said haughtily. “He is my king, and I must obey.”
Classic. She was only obeying orders. Like that was going to work with us.
Drustans nodded, addressing Morgawse. “The king suspected their treachery, Milady. He’s more than prepared and has his own army hiding in the forest. But it’s too late to warn him what they plan. He’ll be on the island meeting Cadwy even as we speak.”
Behind him, Morgana looped the reins around the brake handle on the cart and slid to the ground. I’d forgotten how tall a woman she was, nearly as tall as her brothers. Her normally loose dark hair was confined in a single thick plait and two red spots flared angrily on her cheeks.
“We have to do something,” I said, anxiety for Arthur’s safety, as well as the shock of having killed a man, overriding anything I might have felt for the women and baby.
Drustans’ boyish face, with its fuzz of sparse beard, creased with indecision.
“Where is the body of your army?” Morgawse asked. She was hardly any older than he was, but seemed by far the more capable of decision making. I was happy to let her take command for the moment.
“At least two miles. Through the forest that way.” He pointed a long, grubby finger.
Morgawse nodded. “Then send one man on your fastest horse to tell them to move to the south and expect to meet Cadwy’s army.”
I could see the wisdom in that and nodded with vigor. “Yes. I can do that. Drustans, you and Morgawse can take the wagon to safety.” Maybe it was the reaction to having killed someone, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. Instead, a curious numbness pervaded my body, as though nothing mattered except that I should be with Arthur.
Morgana was no longer beside the wagon. Somehow, she’d moved closer to Drustans’ grazing horse. Yet although I’d seen, the significance of what she was doing didn’t seem important, I was so taken up with the idea that I could be the one to ride back to Arthur’s army.
Drustans stared at me, aghast. “Milady! I can’t let you go. I’m supposed to be keeping you safe. The King would never forgive me. He entrusted you to me. I’m to escort you to Caswallan’s villa.”
“We need you with us.” Morgawse backed him up. “A battle’s no place for a woman. And I need help with these girls.” She nodded at Albina and Cloelia, who were still to be heard hiccupping their sobs in the back of the wagon in concert with baby Medraut, who sounded hungry.
