Page 91 of The Road to Avalon
His eyes brightened, his spine visibly straightened, and he pushed back the bench seat with a clatter and rose to his feet. “Very well. We’ll do it. If I’m going to die, then I’ll die on the right side. Let’s assemble what men we can. I’ve a mind to see Medraut brought to his knees. I don’t much like him, even though Bran seems to think he shits solid gold. Come on. We can’t ride into this only half-prepared.”
I held up my hand and he smacked his into it. A Dark Age high five. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The thirty menwe collected didn’t look like much. Most of them were older and semi-retired from fighting due to injury: a bunch of graybeards that included Goff the smith, and a few boys scarcely old enough to shave, led by a woman. But thirty was better than nothing. And they’d come out willingly and bravely to my call, hauling rusty, long-unused mail shirts over their heads and buckling on swords found in dusty corners. A few younger men too, as disgruntled with Medraut as Cyngal.
Watched by the silent women of the fortress who’d come crowding to their doors with children clutched to their sides and babies at their breasts, we mounted up outside the stables, shouldering our spears. Coventina hobbled down to see us off, and stood nervously clutching her cloak to her, running her eyes over our motley ranks.
“Take care,” she said, putting one hand on my leather-clad knee. “This isn’t justobservingyou’re planning to do, so you can put it in that book of yours. This is a real battle you’re getting yourself into. Against men who probably won’t even notice you’re a woman. And even if they do, they won’t care.”
I covered her hand with my gloved one. “I do know that. But I can’t just sit up here and watch it happen. Not when I have men who need leading.” I bent so only she could hear. “I feel responsible. I saw this coming a long time ago, and yet I let it happen. I owe it to Arthur to try to help him and his men.” We locked eyes. “But if I don’t come back, tell my daughter I love her.”
Straightening up, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat on my last words. I refused to consider that I might be killed, or I’d be running back into Coventina’s house and hiding under the bed. I was a warrior queen, and the time to prove it had come. This was what Merlin had brought me here to do, surely.
I turned Enfys away from my friend and kicked her forward to the front of my men. Trulymymen this time. I didn’t look back at Coventina and the other women. I couldn’t. With my heart beating hard in my throat and threatening to leap out at any moment, I led my little troop down the worn track to the gates.
A single warrior remained there on duty– one-armed Curig who couldn’t fight. The rest were with me. He’d offered to come, but he was right-handed, and it was that arm he’d lost.
“You serve me better here,” I’d said. “Should Medraut attempt to retreat, you can lock the gates against him.”
Standing on the tower above the gates, he saluted as we approached. A proud old soldier, with a heart as brave as a lion.
Two women swung the gates open, and we clattered through.
“Kill the little shit,” Curig shouted down. “I want to see his head up here on a spike and his body left out for foxes to eat.”
I twisted in my saddle to give him a thumbs up.
The steepness of the road forced us to keep our horses to a walk as we descended toward the plain, but as soon as the last horse reached the hill’s foot, I let Enfys, buzzing with energy as if she knew what lay ahead, break into a canter.
On the plain, Medraut’s army had come to a halt, weapons and armor glittering in the autumn sunlight. His warriors’ heads turned to stare as I swung my small force sharply south away from them, our galloping hooves eating up the hard ground.
Arthur had chosen his battlefield well and stationed his army where a ridge rose above lower lying land that in winter was good for nothing. We’d had a long dry summer and autumn, and hungry cattle were grazing in the hollow, where the grass grew lusher than elsewhere. At the sight of our horses approaching, they raised their heads for a moment before returning to their meal. Not much would budge them from their food.
Medraut couldn’t have missed us, but we were moving fast and out of bowshot. And what could he have done, other than divide his troops and send men after us? Too late now, anyway. We were almost at Arthur’s lines, their spear tips turned to point at us.
I hauled on my reins to slow Enfys to a trot, and held up my hand in a gesture of peace. Couldn’t they see who we were? But then, the men riding out to meet them under Medraut’s command were their fellows as well.
“Arthur!” I shouted, and yanked off my helmet to let the men see my face. “I bring reinforcements!”
From his position in the frontline of his forces alongside Theodoric, he turned his head to stare. Across the lines of horsemen, our eyes met, and his widened in what had to be shock.
“We’re here to join you,” I shouted, as acknowledgment rumbled through the waiting ranks of his warriors.
He spun Taran and cantered along the front line, yanking her to a halt beside me.
Our eyes locked. He’d lost the drawn look of exhaustion he’d had when I’d last seen him. His dark eyes blazed with a heady mix of battle lust, pure excitement, and long-brewed anger. Perhaps his time in Armorica had helped heal his damaged soul.
“Gwen.”
Just one word, but laden with meaning. I reached out a hand to touch his mail-clad arm, emotion almost choking me. “I couldn’t stand by and see you die.” I gestured at the men gathered behind me. “These men remain loyal to you and refused to fight on Medraut’s side. I know we’re not many, but we make up for it with our loyal hearts.”
A hint of a smile flitted across his handsome, bearded face. “Thank you. And thank you for sending Llawfrodedd. He told me everything.” He waved his hand at his warriors. “We found horses for Theodoric and some of his sailors. The rest are on the south coast, awaiting new orders.” He leaned in close. “If we lose, then you’re to gallop south with whoever survives, and take ship to my cousin Budic in Armorica. He will take you in. Do you understand? Take Archfedd with you. And Coventina and Reaghan if you can.”
I nodded, buoyed up by seeing him again, drinking in everything about him. “But you won’t lose. I know you won’t. Medraut’s the one who’ll die today. Believe me.” I spoke with confidence, but deep in my heart I couldn’t be sure of my scanty knowledge. Might I have changed history so much that this wouldn’t be the Camlann I’d been fearing for so long? Might it have a totally different outcome? Not necessarily better.
Arthur’s eyes glittered with pent up menace. “I made a grave mistake in elevating that young man so high. No, don’t tell me. I already know. Llawfrodedd held nothing back.” He pulled off his glove and took my hand in his, fixing me with a gaze penetrating enough to see past the skin and flesh and bone, deep into my soul. “We both know what he did, how he manipulated our son, and through him, us.” He shook his head. “I was a fool. I let him come between us. He got what he and Morgana wanted and drove us apart. Can you ever forgive me, Gwen?”
