Winter's Blossom: The Seasons of Arthur

Chapter 37

Though he never admitted it to me, I have often felt that Owain made the decision to go north because of me.

Owain's ability in war was both a blessing and a curse for him. It raised him up and forged him a reputation. It would release him from the pressures of his world to an environment and, most importantly to him, it was something that he was peerless at. Nobody could match him at war and, when you have grown up trying to be the best in everything, to catch your infamous warlord father's attention and approval, being peerless in a war can seem like a good thing.

But Owain hated war. He was too much of a good man. He never revelled in the excitement of it like I did, never felt the rush of the battle joy in his veins, or excelled in how the terror, if you can master it, can lend a speed and strength to you.

Owain hated the misery that war created. He hated seeing the suffering of Briton and invader alike. Most of all he hated the sheer chance of war. War was a gamble, and battle was the biggest gamble of all. Owain was not shy of playing the odds, as he had proved in Elmet, but his sense of fair play did not extend to the battlefield. If battle was a gamble, Owain would fix the dice.

Everybody told him not to go north. Agravaine told him it was a mistake, but he would follow him if it was his decision. The ground was not suitable to heavy infantry and shield walls, he explained. The Romans had come into such land and been destroyed, their precious eagle taken as a prize.

'It was the Votadini who did that.' Owain pointed out with a slight bow, emphasising that it was the ancestors of the majority of the men around the long table who had routed that Roman legion, and Agravaine effectively represented the chief of those people.

'True.' Agravaine nodded his huge head. 'But we would be making the same mistakes they did. Marching around difficult country looking for a battle, and when we do eventually find it you can guarantee it won't be to our liking.'

Pellinore flat out refused to accompany him with his men until Agravaine growled at him in a rare moment of wroth with his much respected future father in law that he would do as he was told. Owain, more diplomatically, told Pellinore that he would be marching north with or without him, and that it was much better for the northern lords to join him sooner as a large army than be attacked later as a small one.

Dirandon advised against it. We would not be able to move quickly like the raiding parties did, using small tracks. We would be hungry, tired and watched from the moment we approached the border the whole time until we reached whatever battlefield they wanted us on, cold, hungry and exhausted. 'Probably be ambushed every other day as well.' He added gruffly.

Even Lancelot was not supportive. 'We've struggled to use the horses in this environment as it is.' He admitted. 'Especially at this time of year. It would be difficult enough in the dry, a winter incursion would be crazy. There is no way we could make a proper cavalry charge.'

All eyes turned to me. I was normally the most vocal and least diplomatic when it came to disagreeing with my cousin. But I said nothing. They were all correct, and that was why I stayed silent. Because battle is notoriously fickle. Owain was not risking a battle to simply bring them to battle, though in truth he suspected that he might have to do that at some point if he failed to bring the clans to battle on his own terms, but he was willing to accept battle on the enemy's terms to stop me from fleeing to Powys in disgrace.

Finally, I just shrugged to imply carelessness, but I did not take my eyes from Owain's as I spoke. 'I think you need to make sure you're doing this for the right reasons.' I said carefully, before adding. 'And that you're not doing anything stupid.' I tried to imbue to Owain through his own words to me in the stables that I suspected this was for my benefit. Inflict a major defeat on the hill tribes and then we could go home where I would be safely away from the temptations of unavailable red heads and into Powys with my reputation still intact.