Page 76 of The Quest for Excalibur
Cadwy’s gaze shifted to Merlin. “Don’t you ever tellyourdog ‘no’ then?”
Not a muscle moved on Merlin’s face, but a wave of pure hostility emanated from him that nearly sent me reeling. Cadwy gave no sign he’d noticed, though. Thick-skinned, that one.
Arthur was silent a moment. “My counsellor always gives me sound advice,” he finally said. “I never ignore his words, because I know wisdom feeds them.”
Camaraderie dispensed with.
Cadwy laughed again, spit bubbles forming at the corner of his overly-wet mouth. “So you say. I won’t argue with you on that one. But enough of how we had our warnings. Now, tell me what precautions you’ve taken.”
Arthur, who must have had to make a hasty change to his previous plan of battle now we had our reinforcements, pointed east, unfazed and calm. “Lookouts along the road, every mile or so. Watching for the Saxon advance party. If one fails, the next will surely not. I’ve posted them right down into the valley of the Kennet, to where the old town of Spinae sits on the riverbank. And some up in the hills to either side, as well, although I’m certain they’ll take the road.”
“Wise move.” Cadwy shifted his considerable weight as though uncomfortable with standing. “And I presume you’ve decided where we should face the enemy when they come?”
Arthur nodded. “The road from Caer Celemion makes a steady climb from the Kennet Valley and follows a ridge of high ground this way. It’s mostly clear to either side, with only grazing land, some heath, and small farmsteads, with pockets of woodland but very little forest. Nowhere there to conceal our forces and stage a surprise attack.”
He pointed into the darkness. “But in daylight, if you look east from here, you’ll see a distant brow with a good-sized beech hanger stretching into the valley to the south. The road passes that way, dips down steeply, then rises again onto a long hill. There’s more than enough woodland to give cover to at least half our force.”
“Just half?” Cadwy’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes. Half. The other half will meet them on the road, facing them full on. We’ll lure them forward and let them charge. Then the hidden warriors in the woodland will ride in from the side in tight formation to flank them. Bows first, then lances.”
Cadwy rubbed his greasy beard. “And what of Cerdic? What part will he play– if he comes?” He frowned. “If, that is, he doesn’t get here and decide to take his uncle’s side.”
An awkward silence bristled. Yes. Where was Cerdic? I badly wanted to know. Surely he’d had enough time to march here by now?
Arthur broke the silence. “I’d hoped to station his men to the north, to make a two-pronged flanking attack on both sides of the Saxon army.”
I glanced at Cei, but he remained impassive, his eyes fixed on his brother.
Cadwy shifted his weight again and rolled his shoulders. Probably stiff after his long forced march. “Without him, do we have enough men to defeat the Saxons?”
The words hung in the cold night air.
I wanted to shout “Yes, you’ll win” but I couldn’t very well, and besides which, I had no idea if Cerdic was meant to be here or not. I pressed my lips together and schooled myself to silence. This was a meeting of kings– of men– and the opinion of a woman, even if she were a queen, was not wanted. Even if it irked me to stay silent, right now I had to conform.
Arthur shrugged. “The honest answer is that I don’t know. We haven’t seen the Saxon force, or counted them. Their numbers are just hearsay. But they’ll be on foot, and we have cavalry, and that’s already an advantage. And our men are better disciplined than theirs. Another advantage.”
He rubbed his chin, heavy with five days growth of beard. “If we were facing a Roman legion, then we would have little chance. They’d lock their shields in testudo and even our strongest cavalry charge would be unlikely to budge them.”
A grin revealed Arthur’s teeth, gleaming white in the darkness that had so quickly become total. “But they’re not the legions, thank God and all the gods. When they see us, with what they’ll think is so small a force, let’s hope they won’t be able to resist charging. And when they charge, they’ll lose any advantage they have in numbers. Because we’ll be on horseback, and they won’t. And we have mounted archers.”
Cadwy grinned back, as mirthlessly as Arthur. “Good plan, Little Brother. It may well work.” He sighed. “But it would be better were Cerdic and his men here to boost our numbers.” He gave a disgusted snort. “You still think he’ll come to fight his fellow countrymen? That he’s on his way?”
Arthur compressed his lips before answering. “Cerdic once declared that he was British now. His father was British, and the crown he now wears is British, as are many of his men. I believe he will come.”
Cadwy nodded. “Let’s hope you’re right.” He sighed again and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “I’m for my bed now. Hard ground or not, I’ll sleep well tonight after three days in the saddle. This is further than I’ve ridden in years. I bid you goodnight.” He turned away, his men falling in behind him like a pair of over-muscled pit bull terriers, with Dubricius a fat Labrador and Custennin a watchful hound, and they vanished into the darkness.
“Humph,” Merlin muttered. “Cerdic better bloody well had come.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Iwoke shortlyafter sunrise to find the warm body that had been lying next to mine, Arthur’s, had vacated the bed and left my back chilly. I pulled our blankets, speckled with dew, closer around myself and tried closing my eyes again, but sleep refused to return. The ground felt hard and lumpy as rock, the cold was eating through the blankets, and I needed a pee. Annoyed, I sat up and pushed the covers back.
The clouds of yesterday had thinned. High overhead, almost invisible against the brightening sky, a late-season skylark sang its bubbling chorus. Knuckling sleep from my eyes, I peered around at our camp. Most of the men were already sitting in groups to breakfast on hard bread, cheese, and onions, washed down with cider or ale.
My stomach rumbled, but oh, how I longed for a slice of toast and marmalade and a strong cup of coffee. Not for the first time. Was I getting too old for traipsing after the army?
As I hadn’t undressed the night before, nor even kicked off my boots before snuggling down in Arthur’s embrace, all I had to do was stand up and stretch; a state of being with both advantages and disadvantages. On silent feet, I padded through the camp to where Cei had very kindly organized the construction of a small, roofless shelter specifically for my use. The men had to use any old spot for their toileting, but I had a hole in the ground to squat over, out of the sight of curious eyes.
