Page 60 of The Queen's Huntsman
That was when the trouble began, compelling her father to ally with Brutus in hopes that a more united front in the west would quiet the discord in the east. For a while, that worked.
Eventually, both the Catuvellauni and Iceni sent ambassadors anddawnsiostudents to Trevena, but only on the condition that their tribes be recognized as sovereign states of equal bearing with Trevena and their sovereigns as kings—which, of course, her father was quick to agree to, because there was already such fierce infighting betwixt those eastern tribes and he did not care to inherit their strife. But then, Cantium, which was traditionally allied with the Catuvellauni, gave a younger daughter to be wed to the Iceni king, uniting both tribes by marriage. In retaliation, the Catuvellauni chieftain turned about and kidnapped the Iceni king’s bride, igniting a years-long feud, which culminated with the recent attack on Plowonida.
Málik was right: After this recent loss, the Catuvellauni would be on high alert, guarding their borders, fully prepared to defend them. But there was little love lost between Caradoc, the Catuvellauni chieftain, and Cornwall. His compassion over her father’s death would go only so far, and if they’d caught Bryn and Ely en route to the Iceni, they might take this as a sign of Gwendolyn’s favor for the enemy.
It would not bode well.
Gwendolyn pored over this as she rolled out her pallet, hoping that somehow Ely and Bryn would evade the Catuvellauni.
Their capitol might be difficult to avoid because of its central location, but as far as Gwendolyn knew, Plowonida still sat unoccupied, and she dearly hoped that Caradoc had drawn his men south, closer to the Dobunni border, near the Cod’s Wold, where the Iceni would be more reluctant to seek them.
Whatever the case, she had so much work ahead of her if she meant to unite any of these tribes, and her greatest chance lay in her hope that the three Cornish tribes might still be turned if they could simply oust Locrinus from their territories.
And perhaps with some luck, Atrebates as well.
Locrinus might not yet be strong enough to hold both Loegria and Trevena, much less take and hold Plowonida, but he was getting close.
According to his own words, he’d won allegiances from eight of Pretania’s twenty-one tribes, which left her with terrible odds, considering that seven of those remaining were Prydein, and the other six included the Brigantes, who never took sides. But also the Iceni and Catuvellauni, who both hated one another as much as they mistrusted Cornwall.
However, Prydein accounted for a third of this isle. If she could but convince her grandfather, Baugh, to ally with her, and if she could then convince the Iceni… those tribes alone would make up for the eight Locrinus had already won.
Even before Locrinus, the Iceni had come close to Cornwall’s might, particularly now, allied with Cantium and Trinovantes. Add to that their association with the Parisi to the north, and they were now the third largest confederacy on these isles.
Somehow, she must convince the Iceni king to ally with her. However, just because they had once halfheartedly joined her father’s alliance, did not mean they would do so again. Nor would they so hastily embrace her father’s heir, especially whilst she was still wed to Locrinus. Even so, the Iceni must be her primary goal right now. Negotiations like these were a delicate matter; fortunately, she had witnessed enough failure from her father’s aldermen to know that there was a critical order of progress to be undertaken, else all negotiations would fail.
For instance, if she went first to the Caradoc, she feared the Iceni would take offense, and if she went first to the Iceni, the reverse would be true. But if she went to the Iceni, Cantium and Trinovantes would follow, and perhaps Parisi as well. The more allies she amassed, the better it would all go. Eventually, Caradoc and his warriors would have to choose a side. Gwendolyn hoped it would be hers, though she had better work quickly if Albanactus had already turned his sights to the north, because if Prydein fell to Albanactus, or allied with Locrinus, all hope would be lost.
At this point, it would be impossible to wrest the four tribes of Westwalas from Loc’s control. It would have been far better if her father had never given him those lands, but that was water long gone under the bridge, and there was nothing anyone could do about that.
Completely fagged, Gwendolyn closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling a breath. There was too much to be done, and she didn’t know where to begin. Needing to see to her mount, she lifted a knee, not entirely certain she could follow it with the other.
“On your toes,” she heard Málik command, and Gwendolyn rolled her eyes, exasperated that he would choose this very moment to engage her. She was about to turn and tell him nay, but his demand was followed by the hiss of metal leaving his scabbard.
She peered up in time to see the raised sword. He didn’t offer a moment to consider, bringing it down unerringly, straight into the spot where Gwendolyn had been kneeling.
Moving intuitively, Gwendolyn hurled herself out of the sword’s path, rolling over a sharp branch, and crying out in pain. Quickly, she bounded to her feet, rushing for her sword.
Stupid, stupid!
She was unprepared.
She should have known Málik would test her.
It was too uncomfortable riding with her sword in the scabbard at her waist, so she’d opted to leave it in the saddle sheathe. Of course, Málik wore his behind his back, and he’d withdrawn it so easily, wielding it deftly. Irritated beyond measure, Gwendolyn seized her sword, then rapped Aisling on the rear, sending the mare out of harm’s way as she turned to face Málik with her sword drawn.
Esme and Lir drifted over to watch—Esme with a delighted gleam in her now smokey eyes.
“I am not ready,” Gwendolyn complained, keeping her eyes on Málik’s sword.
“You’ll never be entirely prepared.”
“But I am weak from lack of sustenance,” she argued.
“And whose fault is that? Do you think Caradoc will give you the courtesy of a warning?”
Gwendolyn frowned. Damn him. He was right, of course.
Moreover, he had warned her, giving her ample time to prepare.
