Lawhead, Stephen Pendragon Cycle 04 Pendragon

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already melting into the forest. Fergus stood at the gate as his people passed before him, urging them to
courage and speed. Arthur, Gwenhwyvar, and Llenlleawg stood together in deliberation. Cai was
nowhere to be seen.
Arthur raised his head and waved us to join him. At our arrival, he said, 'Bedwyr, you and Cai will stay
to aid Fergus and his battlechiefs. Gwenhwyvar, Llenlleawg and I will raise the Uladh lords.'
'Someone should warn Ciaran and his brother monks,' I pointed out. 'I will go to them.'
'If we have difficulty with the lords, I want you with me,' Arthur insisted.
'The good brothers are not far,' Gwenhwyvar said. 'We can take word to them on the way.'
'So be it.' To Bedwyr, Arthur said, 'When Cai returns from the bay, tell him what we have done.'
'If all goes well,' Gwenhwyvar added, 'we should return here before sunrise with help.'
We remounted and, bidding Fergus farewell, rode out at once. Llenlleawg led the way. We passed
through a wood and crossed a stream, then reached a broad, gently sloping lea where we turned south
and came after a short ride to a rough holding little more than a field camp, where the monks had
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settled.
Ciaran greeted us and offered food and drink. 'God be good to you,' he said. 'We would be honoured if
you will stay to sup with us.'
'Nothing would please us more,' Gwenhwyvar told him. 'But we cannot stay. We have come to warn
you. There is trouble coming. Invaders have been seen. Even now they are making landfall along the
northern shore not far from here.'
'Invaders.' The priest mouthed the word, but showed no fear. 'Who are they? Do you know?'
'They are a tribe I have never seen before,' Arthur told him. 'But I can tell you this: they have a fleet as
large as the Emperor's, and their ships and sails are black.'
'Vandali,' said Ciaran.
'Do you know them?' I asked.
'I know of no other barbarian host to own a fleet,' the priest replied. 'They are known inConstantinople.
That is where I heard about them and their black-sailed ships.'
'And did you also hear how they may be defeated?' inquired Arthur.
Ciaran shook his head slowly. 'Sadly, no. In truth, I heard that they cannot be defeated. Of all
barbarians, the Vandali are the most fierce and cruel. They kill for pleasure, and possess no respect for
life neither their own nor anyone else's. They hold no thing as sacred, save their own valour, and they
live only for the sport of killing and the plunder to be won with the points of their spears.' The priest
paused, measuring the effect of his words. 'I would be lying if I told you that anyone could stand against
them. The Vandali are feared by all who know them. Even the Goths flee them on sight.' Ciaran paused,
then added, 'That is all I know. I wish I could tell you more.'
'And I would hear more, but I am grateful for this little,' Arthur replied. 'Fergus and his people are
leaving the caer. If you go at once, you can join them in hiding.'
'We are going to rally the kings,' Gwenhwyvar said. 'We ride first to Conaire at RathMor.'
'May God go with you, my friends,' Ciaran said. Raising his hands, he blessed us with a prayer as we
continued quickly on our way.
The stronghold of Conaire Crobh Rua, or Red Hand, was much the same as that of Fergus, only larger,
and a great ogam-carved pillar stone stood at the entrance to the caer. His warband was accordingly
larger, too, boasting five warriors to every one of Fergus' men, and no fewer than four tributary kings
supported him as well. Each of these small kings maintained warriors at his own expense which Conaire
could command at need.
He would be a powerful ally. Consequently, winning him was crucial to Ierne's survival.
Gwenhwyvar understood this necessity and the terrible urgency of raising a host swiftly. Upon reaching
Rath Mor and finding the gate open, she rode into the caer, ignoring the shouts of the lax gatemen to stop
and be recognized.
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She rode straight to the hall and shouted, 'Conaire! Come out, Conaire! We must talk, you and I.'
The people heard and began hastening to us. The door to the hall was a simple white ox hide with a
hand painted on it in red. The head of a man appeared from behind the skin and declared, 'The king is
deaf to all demands but his own.'
'Just you tell your deaf king that he is a fool to sleep within his hall while his realm suffers invasion,' she
snapped, her dark brows lowered. The head promptly disappeared. 'Did you hear that, Conaire?' she
shouted.
A moment later the ox hide was thrown aside and a tall man with fair hair and a red-brown beard
stalked out. A fine, handsome man, he folded his bare arms across his chest. 'Ah, Gwenhwyvar,' he said
upon seeing her, 'I should have known it was you making all this tumult.' He glanced quickly at those of
us accompanying the queen. 'I thought you were in Ynys Prydein. Is it to marry me that you have come
here?'
Gwenhwyvar favoured him with a disdainful smile. 'Conaire Crobh Rua, I will never marry you. The man
you see beside me is my husband '
'Then you can say nothing I care to hear.' The Uladh king started back to his hall.
'My husband,' Gwenhwyvar continued, 'Arthur, High King of the Britons.'
Conaire stopped and turned. 'Indeed?' He looked Arthur up and down, and then, as if deciding he had
seen nothing worth troubling himself over, dismissed Arthur with a sneer. 'I did not know the Britons had
got themselves another new king,' he said. 'Now that I see him, I wonder why they bothered.'
Arthur regarded the Irish lord coolly, but without rancour. He said nothing. Gwenhwyvar, however,
stiffened in the saddle; her face flushed red with anger. Yet it was the silent Llenlleawg who answered [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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