Stephen Lawhead - Pendragon

'You have done well,' I commended them, and glanced to the rising sun. 'And now we must hurry back. The camp will be stirring soon, and I want to be there when Arthur wakes.'

While Llenlleawg and Gwalchavad harnessed the horse to the chariot, I packed the lime into a bag and retrieved the woad cauldron. 'Leave the tools,' I told them, mounting to the saddle. To Llenlleawg, I said, 'Remember what I told you.’

‘To hear is to obey, Emrys,' the Irish champion replied. 'So be it.' Snapping the reins, I wheeled the horse and raced back to camp.

As I expected, the warriors had begun to rouse themselves. A few cooking fires were already sending slender plumes of smoke into the clear, cloudless sky. The first rays of sunlight broke above the hill-line and I could feel the heat on my back as Gwalchavad and I entered the encampment. Not wishing to see or speak to anyone, I rode directly to Arthur's tent.

'Find Bedwyr, Cai, and Cador,' I commanded as we dismounted. 'Give them my instructions.'

Gwalchavad gave me the bag of lime and hurried away. Glancing quickly around, I drew aside the flap and stepped into the king's tent. The sight I encountered made my heart move within me: Gwenhwyvar, her arms around Arthur, holding him, his head on her shoulder, sound asleep. Save for his mail shirt, he was still wearing his clothes of the day before. She looked up as I came to stand before her. 'He was too tired to undress,' she whispered, brushing his forehead with her lips.

'Have you held him like this all night?' I asked, kneeling before her.

'He fell asleep in my arms,' she replied. 'I did not like to disturb him.'

'But you have had no sleep for yourself.'

'Arthur is to fight again today,' she replied, lifting a hand to stroke his hair. 'I wanted to spend the night with him just like this.' She did not say that she feared it might be their last night, but that is what she meant.

Although we spoke in whispers, the sound of our voices roused Arthur and he wakened. He sat up, drawing away from his wife. She released him, but kept an arm on his shoulders.

'Oh, lady, I…" he began. 'I fell asleep. I am sorry, I -'

'Hush,' she said, laying a fingertip to his lips. 'I am content. You were exhausted; you needed sleep.' She put her mouth to his and kissed him. He pulled her to him in a tight, almost crushing embrace, then noticed me.

'Myrddin,' he said, 'is the whole camp risen so early?'

'Not the whole camp, perhaps,' I replied. 'But I wanted to see you both before anyone else. Let me look at your shoulder, Arthur.'

Gwenhwyvar carefully peeled away the dressing and I saw an ugly red gash, swollen, and hot to the touch. The cut was not long – a thumb's length only – but when I pressed the edges of the puncture, a clear fluid oozed from it.

'How does it feel?' I asked him.

'Good,' Arthur lied. 'A bee sting is worse by far.'

'Move your arm for me.'

Arthur grudgingly moved his arm and rolled his shoulder, 'Satisfied?' he asked impatiently. 'I told you it is nothing. A night's sleep has done me a world of good.'

'Possibly,' I allowed. 'But I think it would be better to give your shoulder another day's rest.'

'What? And let the barbarian think that he has gained the advantage of me? I will not!'

'Let Amilcar think what he likes. You must consider your shoulder. What will it avail Britain if you get yourself killed today for the sake of your pride?"

'Twrch Trwyth and the Vandali will soon assemble on the plain. What will they do if I am not there?'

'Amilcar violated the law he agreed to honour,' I pointed out. 'I do not believe he will press the matter further. Let him wait, I say – until tomorrow if need be.'

'Do you forbid me, bard?' he demanded, growing cross.

I hesitated, then shook my head, saying, 'I do not say you cannot; I say you should not. I leave it to you. Do what you will.'

'Then I will fight him today,' Arthur declared. 'And, with God's help, I will defeat him.'

'Perhaps God has already sent his aid,' I suggested.

'Why?' Arthur asked, looking from me to Gwenhwyvar and back again. 'What have you done?'

'I have contrived a surprise for Amilcar,' I said. 'A deception,' Gwenhwyvar chided in mock disapproval. 'And from you, Myrddin Emrys. I am alarmed.'

'No deception,' I answered, and quickly explained how Llenlleawg, Gwalchavad and I had spent the night.

'What,' said Arthur when I finished, 'has no one slept the night but me?'

'A chariot?' wondered Gwenhwyvar. 'But that is wonderful.'

'I must see this marvel at once,' said Arthur, rising to his feet.

'Soon, but not yet,' I said. 'I would rather no one see you before the fight.'

'Am I to be made prisoner in my own tent?'

'Only until all the others have gone out to the battlefield.' I told them both what I intended. They listened to all, with bemused, slightly astonished expressions on their faces.

'No king has ever had a better bard,' said Gwenhwyvar when I finished; rising, she smiled and kissed me on the cheek. 'It is splendid, Wise Emrys. I commend your scheme, and will pray for its success.'

Arthur stretched and yawned, and sat down again on the bed, rubbing his well-stubbled jaw thoughtfully. 'Well, the shave will be agreeable at least.'

'I will bring a basin and a razor," Gwenhwyvar said, stepping to the tent flap. It pleased me that she welcomed my plan so eagerly. 'And something to eat,' added Arthur, yawning. 'I am starving.' He lay back on the bed and was soon sleeping soundly once more.

The opposing war hosts were arrayed on the field of battle as before – rank on rank behind their chieftains, staring fiercely across the plain at each other. It was nearing midday and they were looking for Arthur to arrive, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A premature shout went up as I appeared, but died abruptly when they saw I was alone. They looked at one another with puzzled expressions and returned uneasily to their waiting.

The Britons were not the only ones anxious for Arthur's arrival. The Vandali also stretched their necks for a sign of him, and with even greater anticipation. For if the British king failed to appear, then Amilcar would be judged the victor; each moment that Arthur delayed, the expectation of triumph grew.

I did not know how long the Vandal king would content himself to stand aside while Arthur tarried. I hoped he might use the opportunity to belittle his opponent, but he seemed content to bide his time, and the longer he waited, the lower ebbed my hope and I began to fear that all my work would come to nothing. Had the wily Black Boar guessed what Arthur was planning?

No. Impossible.

Then why did Amilcar stand so amiably by? Why did he not denounce Arthur and call for the Britons to produce their king, or declare himself the victor?

The sun mounted higher in a formless sky, blazing hot, pooling inky shadows on the dry ground. I looked along the ranks of men, standing uneasily, sweating, their eyes narrowed slits against the hard, hard light. Across the plain, the barbarians shifted restlessly. The expectation was growing too great to contain any longer. Yet Amilcar waited.

When the Vandali war drums finally sounded, I thought: At last! The moment we have been waiting for, Arthur. Take it!

Amilcar advanced with his bodyguard and priest to his accustomed place. He stood for a moment scanning the ranks, then drew himself up and called out in a loud voice, which Hergest repeated: 'Where is your champion? Where is your great king? Is he hiding? Is he afraid to face me?'

The words met stony silence. 'Why does no one answer me? Has fear taken your tongues? Come out and fight! Show me you are not afraid!'

When he received no answer, his shouts became taunts. 'Dogs! Cowards! Now you show your true nature! Kings of cowards, where is your coward of a king?'