Bernard Cornwell - The Winter King

Gorfyddyd himself walked us to Caer Sws's gate. Cuneglas, his son, came also; he might well have intended a courtesy by accompanying us, but Gorfyddyd had no such niceties in mind. “Tell your whore-lover,” the King said, his cheeks still smeared with blood, 'that war can be avoided by one thing only. Tell Arthur that if he presents himself in Lugg Vale for my judgment and verdict I shall consider the stain on my daughter's honour cleansed."

“I shall tell him, Lord King,” Galahad answered.

“Is Arthur still beardless?” Gorfyddyd asked, making the question sound like an insult.

“He is, Lord King,” Galahad said.

“Then I can't plait a prisoner's leash from his beard,” Gorfyddyd growled, 'so tell him to cut off his whore's red hair before he comes and have it woven ready for his own leash.“ Gorfyddyd clearly enjoyed demanding that humiliation of his enemies, though Prince Cuneglas's face betrayed an acute embarrassment for his father's crudeness. ”Tell him that, Galahad of Benoic,“ Gorfyddyd continued, 'and tell him that if he obeys me, then his shaven whore can go free so long as she leaves Britain.”

“The Princess Guinevere can go free,” Galahad restated the offer.

“The whore!” Gorfyddyd shouted. “I lay with her often enough, so I should know. Tell Arthur that!” He spat the demand into Galahad's face. “Tell him she came to my bed willingly, and to other beds too!”

“I shall tell him,” Galahad lied to stem the bitter words. “And what, Lord King,” Galahad went on, 'of Mordred?"

“Without Arthur,” Gorfyddyd said, “Mordred will need a new protector. I shall take responsibility for Mordred's future. Now go.”

We bowed, we mounted and we rode away, and I looked back once in hope of seeing Ceinwyn, but only men showed on Caer Sws's ramparts. All around the fortress the shelters were being pulled down as men prepared to march on the direct road to Branogenium. We had agreed not to use that road, but to go home the longer way through Caer Lud so we would not be able to spy on Gorfyddyd's gathering host.

Galahad looked grim as we rode eastwards, but I could not restrain my happiness and once we had ridden clear of the busy encampments I began to sing the Song of Rhiannon.

“What is the matter with you?” Galahad asked irritably.

“Nothing. Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!” I shouted in joy and kicked back my heels so that the horse bolted down the green path and I fell into a patch of nettles. “Nothing at all,” I said when Galahad brought the horse back to me. “Absolutely nothing.”

“You're mad, my friend.”

“You're right,” I said as I clambered awkwardly back on to the horse. I was indeed mad, but I was not going to tell Galahad the reason for my madness, so for a time I tried to behave soberly. “What do we tell Arthur?” I asked him.

“Nothing about Guinevere,” Galahad said firmly. “Besides, Gorfyd-dyd was lying. My God! How could he tell such lies about Guinevere?”

“To provoke us, of course,” I said. “But what do we tell Arthur about Mordred?”

“The truth. Mordred is safe.”

“But if Gorfyddyd lied about Guinevere,” I said, 'why shouldn't he lie about Mordred? And Merlin didn't believe him."

“We weren't sent for Merlin's answer,” Galahad said.

“We were sent to find the truth, my friend, and I say Merlin spoke it.”

“But Tewdric,” Galahad answered firmly, 'will believe Gorfyddyd."

“Which means Arthur has lost,” I said bleakly, but I did not want to talk about defeat, so instead I asked Galahad what he had thought of Ceinwyn. I was letting the madness take hold of me again and I wanted to hear Galahad praise her and say she was the most beautiful creature between the seas and the mountains, but he simply shrugged. “A neat little thing,” he said carelessly, 'and pretty enough if you like those frail-looking girls.“ He paused, thinking. ”Lancelot will like her,“ he went on. ”You do know Arthur wants them to marry? Though I don't suppose that will happen now. I suspect Gundleus's throne is safe and Lancelot will have to look elsewhere for a wife."

I said nothing more about Ceinwyn. We rode back the way we had come and reached Magnis on the second night where, just as Galahad had predicted, Tewdric put his faith in Gorfyddyd's promise while Arthur preferred to believe Merlin. Gorfyddyd, I realized, had used us to separate Tewdric and Arthur, and it seemed to me that Gorfyddyd had done well, for as we listened to the two men wrangle in Tewdric's quarters it was plain that the King of Gwent had no stomach for the coming war. Galahad and I left the two men arguing while we walked on Magnis's ramparts that were formed by a great earthen wall flanked by a flooded ditch and topped with a stout palisade. “Tewdric will win the argument,” Galahad told me bleakly. “He doesn't trust Arthur, you see.”

“Of course he does,” I protested.

Galahad shook his head. “He knows Arthur's an honest man,” he allowed, 'but Arthur's also an adventurer. He's landless, have you ever thought of that? He defends a reputation, not property. He holds his rank because of Mordred's age, not through his own birth. For Arthur to succeed he must be bolder than other men, but Tewdric doesn't want boldness right now. He wants security. He'll accept Gorfyddyd's offer.“ He was silent for a while. ”Maybe our fate is to be wandering warriors,“ he continued gloomily, 'deprived of land, and always being driven back towards the Western Sea by new enemies.” I shivered and drew my cloak tighter. The night was clouding over and bringing a chill promise of rain on the western wind. “You're saying Tewdric will desert us?”

“He already has,” Galahad said bluntly. “His only problem now is getting rid of Arthur gracefully. Tewdric has too much to lose and he won't take risks any more, but Arthur has nothing to lose except his hopes.”

“You two!” A loud voice called us from behind and we turned to see Culhwch hurrying along the ramparts. “Arthur wants you.”

“For what?” Galahad asked.

“What do you think, Lord Prince? He's lacking for throw board players?” Culhwch grinned. “These bastards may not have the belly for a fight' he gestured towards the fort that was thronged with Tewdric's neatly uniformed men 'but we have. I suspect we're going to attack all on our own.” He saw our surprise and laughed. “You heard Lord Agricola the other night. Two hundred men can hold Lugg Vale against an army. Well? We've got two hundred spearmen and Gorfyddyd possesses an army, so why do we need anyone from Gwent? Time to feed the ravens!”

The first rain fell, hissing in the smithy fires, and it seemed we were going to war. I sometimes think that was Arthur's bravest decision. God knows he took other decisions in circumstances just as desperate, but never was Arthur weaker than on that rainy night in Magnis where Tewdric was drawing up patient orders that would withdraw his forward men back to the Roman walls in preparation for a truce between Gwent and the enemy.

Arthur gathered five of us in a soldier's house close to those walls. The rain seethed on the roof while under the thatch a log fire smoked to light us with a lurid glare. Sagramor, Arthur's most trusted commander, sat beside Morfans on the hut's small bench, Culhwch, Galahad and I squatted on the floor while Arthur talked.

Prince Meurig, Arthur allowed, had spoken an uncomfortable truth, for the war was indeed of his own making. If he had not spurned Ceinwyn there would be no enmity between Powys and Dumnonia. Gwent was involved by being Powys's most ancient enemy and Dumnonia's traditional friend, but it was not in Gwent's interest to continue the war. “If I had not come to Britain,” Arthur said, 'then King Tewdric would not be foreseeing the rape of his land. This is my war and, just as I began it, so I must end it.“ He paused. He was a man to whom emotion came easily, and he was, at that moment, overcome with feeling. ”I am going to Lugg Vale tomorrow,“ he finally spoke and for a dreadful second I thought he meant to give himself up to Gorfyddyd's awful revenge, but then Arthur offered us his open generous smile, 'and I would like it if you came with me, but I have no right to demand it.” There was silence in the room. I suppose we were all thinking that the fight in the vale had seemed a risky prospect when the combined armies of Gwent and Dumnonia were to be employed, but how were we to win with only Dumnonia's men? “You have a right to demand that we come,” Culhwch broke the silence, 'for we took oaths to serve you."