Winter's Blossom: The Seasons of Arthur

Chapter 17

When we returned to Viroconium, I recounted the story of Ambrosius asking us after the battle what we had learned to my friends and the nodded appreciatively, and a little enviously at a relationship with the high king I made out was closer than it was. Nevertheless, I felt like a real warrior now. I had killed in single combat, fought in the shield wall, survived it and killed in that too. Aglovale and Dirandon too, who had now joined us in our drinking and whoring, both warned me that that had been no true shield wall, that it had already been beaten before the shields even clashed but I ignored that fact, though in the secret depths of my heart I knew this to be true.

We had not had another confrontation after the battle. Instead, we chased the broken men miles into Angleland. Ambrosius sent out the cavalry and the Dumnonians ahead of the Army in an attempt to pin Engist down. However Engist, canny warrior and turned on the Dumnonians, mauling them enough to escape his pursuers. Deep in Angleland, with the summer waning and the rains beginning to threaten, Ambrosius contented himself with burning farms and stealing whatever was left of the harvest before marching back to Powys. And as we marched, I thought about the campaign, of broken honour and the rules of war we were supposed to follow.

Owain's answer to Ambrosius was true. Whatever lessons we had learnt, to win is the principle one and we felt like we had won; but there were many other important things to take from it. Owain had taken these things in. Even I had! Though I did not even realise that I had learned that fact until, taking a break from my boasting I said to Aglovale. 'It was clever of Ambrosius wasn't it? Just having the cavalry where they were, it caused the Angles to have to cover them, so that although they outnumbered us we actually had more men in the shield wall than they did.' They glanced at each other and grinned. I was learning.

Back in Viroconium life felt good. Despite my doubts about the shield wall, I had come away feeling that I had proved myself, and this feeling was helped by, beneath the mocking of my older, commanding friends for some of my mishaps, they confessed a pride in me, telling me that my next lessons were how to command.

It was not simply the praise of men I admired that made life good, now I felt like I had money. Ambrosius had presented each man with a bounty in his army, Dirandon too had provided a smaller token for each of his men, while Owain and I were both among those selected for a little extra reward, though in truth it was for little more than surviving our first campaign.

More importantly we had our own plunder, added to the spoils we had brought back. Not only had we taken a number of slaves, who were now sold off, I had managed to loot a number of bodies, including a beautifully wrought bronze and gold amulet that I gave to Feidlimid, who was delighted.

In return she fashioned me a lovers me. I think perhaps she was starting to suspect my infidelity to her, or was perhaps justly fearful of my friends' influence over me as I was constantly out with them. She probably felt that a lovers ring would keep me in check and others away from me, the latter being quite naive as the infallible Aglovale proved regularly. At first I insisted I did not want to wear it, that it was not manly and I would look a woman to my friends. However, women have a remarkable weapon they can use – or rather not use – in their armoury, and at the first insistence that we would know no more intimacies until that ring was on my finger, I had a fat, bronze ring upon my finger!

'It suits you.' Feidlimid insisted a little later as she gently ran her long fingernails across my naked chest, while I looked with disgust at the horrible piece of metal on my hand. She must have sensed my feelings towards it, as she knew I loved it when she tickled me so with those long nails of hers. 'We really must think about getting married before you put a baby in me.'

Immediately I sat up, my heart stopping. 'Married?' I blurted, suddenly more terrified than I had been throughout the whole campaign.

'Of course!' Feidlimid insisted. 'You don't want us to have a bastard, do you?'

'You're pregnant?' I felt nausea burn the pit of my stomach.

'Not yet.' Feidlimid said sadly, and I could suddenly breathe again. 'But I will be, the way you are! And I want to be married before we have a baby. Promise me you'll marry me before then?" her fingers at that time were tickling another part of me entirely, and at that moment in time I promised her the world and more.

I lay there afterwards, barely listening to how Guinevere was soon to be married, and the sonless Ambrosius was looking for a suitable man to marry her and take the throne, and how that man could only be the beautiful Lancelot, after all he had gathered such fame on the battlefield for being such a mighty warrior, he was so noble, a knight of honour and the son of a king; and that really I should aim to be a lot more like him.

'It won't be Lancelot.' I said, surprising myself with a surety that I could not really explain.

'Of course it will be.' Feidlimid said. 'Guinevere is in love with Lancelot.'

'What has love got to do with it?' I said sourly and she hit me.

I lay there, thinking of marriage. I thought about what Feidlimid said about Guinevere's prospective marriage, whoever married her could inherit a kingdom, the country even. Would she marry Lancelot? I had no doubt Guinevere loved him. They were peas in pod together, the Golden Prince and Princess. There were certainly a lot of rumours that the two of them were lovers. I thought about Lancelot as high king and decided if that ever happened, I would visit Rome indefinitely.

The thought of Guinevere's marriage though was thrust from my mind by further thoughts of my own marriage, or rather my opposition to marriage, at least to Feidlimid. But not knowing a way out without directly confronting her. How could it be, I wondered, that a man who had slain other men on the battlefield I was so worried about telling this girl I did not want to marry her, just keep sleeping with her. I could feel the cold metal weighing down on my hands and already it felt like a chain.

I made my excuses and left, slipping the ring from my finger into my pocket as I did so, and made my way straight over to the brothel where I found Aglovale and Dirandon, both with women sat on their laps.

'The mighty war hero!' Aglovale yelled happily when he saw me. 'Come, grace us with your courage and make sure your spear is ready, will you have someone other than Julia tonight?'

'Don't be stupid.' I laughed at him, wondering at myself for being more loyal to a whore than I was to my actual lover.

It is the sign of a good whore who makes you think she likes you and not your money, and all men want to believe that the whore really does enjoy your company, but I truly believe Julia and I had something different. We talked. I paid her for the sex of course, but after, and often before we would talk, and I would confide in her: my fears and self-doubts; my feeling of rejection by Owain and my jealous loathing of Lancelot. She could have taken half a dozen clients in those hours, but she did not and she did not charge me for those.

The only thing I had never told her was about Feidlimid, guilty of betraying a whore but now I confessed to her that I had a lover, a real lover who wanted to be wed.

'And I'm terrified of telling her I don't want her.' I admitted. 'I fear her reaction, and what reactions her reaction might cause. She is the Princess Guinevere's handmaiden after all, and I have hardly acted honourably towards her. We could feel repercussions from the King himself...'

'You think the King is honourable?' Julia scorned me. 'He has bastards aplenty, let me assure you! All men are pigs when it comes to women, and of course you are no different!'

'I don't know what to do.' I admitted.

'If you don't want to confront her, do what all men do.' Julia advised tartly. 'Avoid her until she gets the hint.'