Winter's Blossom: The Seasons of Arthur

Chapter 18

I took Julia's advice, though taking it was easier said than done, after all, we lived in the same fortress. Often in the mornings she would come and watch me train, trying to corner me afterwards but I would make excuses afterwards. I told myself I would not let myself be trapped by her sex again, though of course I was! One morning she offered me into an empty room quickly, knowing in her woman's way that sex was her power over me. She believed that if she could still seduce me then I would make time for her. She was right. I left the room cursing myself for being weak and vowing not to do so again. But of course I did...

I did not know it at the time, but of course I was being naïve with my fear of Ambrosius' fury with me. It is ridiculous how I could be shrewdly sure that Ambrosius would not care who Guinevere was in love with when it came to marrying her off, so why would he care about her handmaiden? I could have given Feidlimid a dozen children and the most she would ever be able to claim was a pittance to help raise the children. Some generous lords would perhaps give her a small house only to eventually take the bastards from her to find them places in their households.

Nobles rarely marry for love, and the fact was that I was one of the most nobly born men in the whole of Britain. I was directly descended from the Lord Cunedda, the leader of the Votadini tribe in Britain, and was thus kin, albeit distantly to the king of Gododdin, Ban. I was the nephew of Uther Pendragon, who whether he bore the title King or not was the second most powerful man in Celtic Britain. I was even fourth in line to be his heir. Technically I was third, but the news brought to us from Gwynedd was that my uncle treated Mordred's brat, named for his dead fool of a father, was treated as if he were legitimate by Enniaun. Added to all of this, I was a ward to Ambrosius, High King of Britain. The man who bore no son, with a daughter he had little time and less patience for.

Both men had control over who I married. If I defied them, I would very quickly find myself removed from their households, penniless, with no income from my uncle nor Ambrosius like I received now, and no influence to help me make my way in the world. I would probably have to join a petty lord's household as a simple household warrior. I might even struggle to do that as few would risk the ire of Enniaun Girt and the High King. No, when I married, it would be to strengthen the household or to build alliances.

I did not think about though. In truth, I often forgot just how highborn I was. Of course I knew I was noble, Aglovale often casually spoke about it, he even mocked me for it. He called me a puppet, his puppet. I would be given a command and he would command me, just as Dirandon had Owain. 'Let the nobles play at being a warrior.' He winked at me as he boasted to the women that surrounded us. 'And let the actual soldiers fight the wars.' But in the war, I had been no more than any other man who had marched with us. Less even, with my inexperience. Through all the years in Gwynedd I had been told that I was lesser than Mordred, than Mark even. I had been beaten, bullied and exiled. I knew I was privileged of course, that I came from wealth, but I did not feel noble. I did not even know what nobility was supposed to feel like. Lancelot, I supposed sourly.

I was given much chance to think it through either, but for my moments of soul-searching guilt and regret following the ambushes from Feidlimid. But even those were becoming less frequent as the entire household was being distracted by the upcoming council.

It was truly remarkable that, when attacked by a common enemy, just how tightly the Britons can band together, Differences are forgotten. Grievances put aside as men stood shoulder to shoulder in the shield wall. No tribal rivalry. No clash of sectarianism. Just fighting together in defence of something that everyone believed in: Britain.

And yet as soon as that threat is diminished the bonds of friendship are broken as once more the kingdoms fracture. There have been times in my life that I have thanked God for those who would invade us, for without them we Britons would kill each other until the island was deserted but for those animals that would feast of the flesh of those fallen fighting those they had once stood fought to the death alongside.