Winter's Blossom: The Seasons of Arthur

Chapter 43

'My lords and ladies,' In a clear, carrying voice Owain stood from my right hand to peer out to those congregated in the great hallway. The hubbub fell silent for a moment to listen to him. 'It has been a rough few months.' Owain admitted. 'We've suffered losses, and some of them are more grievous than any our victories. I beg you all raise a cup for Prince Agravaine, a hero of who's like we will never see again. I pray he rests in peace and finds favour in Heaven.' He raised his cup and saluted everyone, waiting for them all to raise their drinks and murmur Agravaine before drinking.

'But even from the most tragic of loss there is celebration. We may have lost our hero, but we have smashed the hills men.' The hall burst into cheers. Men beat upon the wooden tables with their hands or the hilts of their knives in their jubilation. 'Never again,' Owain raised his voice over the tumult, his voice somehow carrying to every man so that they quietened. 'Never again in our lifetime should they trouble us. So, to those brave men who stood on those fields I honour you. And to those who died, I trust you find peace in heaven.' Owain raised his cup in salute and again those in their seats raised their drinks.

'And finally,' Owain said. 'In amongst all the death, the horror, grief and indeed the celebration, it is remarkable that two people can find love. And so, lord king, my good lords and ladies and the rest of you ruffians,' Another cheer erupted. 'To the betrothal of Culhwch and Elaine. My congratulations to my kinsman, you have outdone yourself.' More cheering. 'Ban should take your right hand for you are surely stealing the most beautiful treasure in the kingdom.' Elaine blushed as red as her hair at the compliment but Owain was not done. 'And to the lady Elaine, my commiserations, we all look forwards to seeing how you put up with such a ridiculous lout.' A chorus of cheering laugher and jeers erupted, predominantly from my Wolves seated at the table near us and they seized scraps of food to hurl at me in their jeering condemnation. Pellinore looked aghast, Owain amused and Elaine dived for cover underneath the table while laughingly declaring I must shield her honour.

'To Culhwch and Elaine.' Owain cried, his voice stilling the uproar and my men ceased their assault and retreated to their cups.

God I was happy. I could not stop grinning like some gormless fool. I made to put my arm around my soon to be wife and caught the disapproving glare of her father and dropped it sheepishly.

Owain, with his growing political shrewdness, had included his victories into his congratulatory speech. He had also made mention of the king, for King Ban had come.

Thankfully it was early in the night, before I had drunk my fill, that the king motioned me to him.

It was difficult to believe that King Ban was the Agravaine's father. Agravaine was the biggest man I have ever seen, and still managed to move with a gentle grace unless his wrath was unleashed. I had always imagined Agravaine's father as a sort of older version mix of Agravaine and my uncle.

Instead, Ban was a shrunken and kindly old man. He looked like he had aged a great deal in a short space of time, and I wondered at the toll his eldest son's death had taken on him. Even without the slight stoop he would not have as tall as his son had been. He was thin, impossibly thin and his skin was like old, wrinkled parchment tattered by time. Thin white hair framed his face, bedraggled and unkempt so that he appeared more like a crazed priest than a king of the most warlike tribe in Britain.

'I know that you were a great friend to my son.' Ban spoke to me in a tired voice. 'Agravaine spoke very highly of you.' I bowed my head. My happiness had been entwined with guilt all day that such joy should come at the cost of my friend's life, and now the tight darkness welled up from my stomach to choke the base of my throat.