Winter's Blossom: The Seasons of Arthur

Chapter 49

The sunset was like bloodstains smeared across the sky and I felt the weight of my heart heavy in my chest as I looked up at it. I was sure that it was a sign but I hardened myself against it as I glanced over at Owain.

Never mind the setting sun, Owain had been in the tower since it's rise, staring out at the roads that stretched into the south and the west. As the thirteenth day dragged on, more and more of Owain's circle had come to stand on the roof of the tower with him. Dirandon had been the first to find him, and like a loyal dog had stayed besides him all that day. He had called for food and water throughout the day, though Owain ate little. I had come and gone at numerous points throughout the day, my own pent up energy and fears making it difficult for me to stay. Sometimes there were only a couple of us on top of the tower, leaning on the crenulations as we gazed out. Other times there were stilted attempts at conversation but mostly we were quiet.

With the sunset though, everyone who counted themselves in Owain's circle, plus some more stood atop the tower staring out, nervous to break the silence.

Of course it would be me to break it. 'This is outrageous!' I exploded, my anger and fear getting the better of me. 'This is a betrayal! You should take his bastard head! I don't care if he's our kin. Surely this is against the law?' I looked around for support. The tension seemed to both build and break at the same time and now others sought to join the conversation.

'Your uncle says he needs to defend against Hibernian spearmen.' Lancelot was the one to answer, and he did so dryly with that mocking smile on his chiselled face. 'It's not against the law to not send aid to someone else when your own kingdom is threatened.'

'To hell with it, kill him anyway.' I raged, disregarding any loyalty to my kin, to the man who had raised me for Elaine was in danger. Lothian was likely cut off, attacked from three sides as Gododdin, the land of our ancestors was being torn to shreds. We had heard nothing from Gododdin. No more messengers had got through. Rumours of battles big and small reached us but nothing substantive. I was sure Din Eidyn could not be taken but I was also sure that Elaine would not be in Din Eidyn, she would be insisting on helping her father in whatever way that she could and my imagination tortured me day and night as I pictured her being used as a plaything for the invading horde. My reason went out the window and I slammed my fist on the wall so hard in anger that for a moment I thought I'd broken something. 'We have to do something. We need to leave.'

'We are trying to do something.' Owain told me soothingly. He gripped my shoulder for a moment. 'But we need solutions, not problems.'

'We don't have enough men.' Percival, a Dumnonian warlord said flatly. He was a tall man, with the first touches of wisdom in his beard though his long, dark hair was still untouched.

'And whose fault is that?' Aglovale bit back at him. Percival had brought only fifty men north to the capital when Owain had expected five times their number, with an apology from his king that he must see to Dumnonia's eastern border in case the Saxons tried to exploit Owain taking such a large army north. Kernow had at least sent twice that. Gwent had sent a reply that Owain had no right to call the muster. Elmet, perhaps fairest of them all, had insisted they needed to defend both their borders and Rheged had informed them their army had deployed to Lugovallium to defend against Scottish incursion. Gwynedd though had replied only that it was the father's place to lead, and that he must defend against Hibernian raiders.

Every king was sacrificing Gododdin to his ambition. Only little Kernow had maintained their loyalty to the High King, the other lords vied to dispute Owain's power, forcing him to admit that he could not honour the alliance that bound the British kingdoms together and allowing them to challenge his position as High King.

Owain had put that to the back of his mind for now though. 'Stop it now.' He said, and looked back out to the west. All day he had hoped that the reply he had sent to his father begging him to send at least some troops would return accompanied by warriors.

'We need to march.' I said quietly. 'The time of waiting is over.'

Nobody said anything until suddenly Lancelot spoke. 'I agree with Culhwch.'

I stared dumbly at him, just as everyone else started in surprise. The animosity between us was no secret. Why was Lancelot supporting me?

Lancelot merely smiled, acknowledging the suspicion an explained himself. 'We don't actually know that there are thousands of them.' He said. 'And even if they are, like Merlin says, they're likely to be masterless men, their fyrd. They will not stand a cavalry charge in the open. Meanwhile the Scots will have had as little time to muster as we have, and the highlanders don't operate as an army. No, they are not one big army of thousands, likely two small ones no bigger than our own, and small bands of raiders in the north. If we can defeat one, then link up with friendly warbands...' He stopped, realising he was starting to talk like someone who thought strategically. He shrugged and grinned wryly, keen to maintain his mask of carefree fool but we were all looking quizzically at him.

'At the end of the day it comes down to this,' Lancelot said, sounding much more like himself. 'Do you want to be known as the men who ran from a fight because Uther Pendragon wasn't there to hold your hand?'

Men bristled, squaring their shoulders as they looked indignantly at the young princeling from Gwent, whose father had not even sent a single extra warrior. Lancelot looked unabashed before them, daring them with his nonchalance to try and rebuke him.

'You're right.' Owain turned and stood straight, the focus of all of our attention. 'You're both right.' He said to me. His face was set, his decision made. 'The waiting is over.' Owain said firmly, in a voice that brook no argument. 'Tomorrow we march. Go now and prepare your men.' He turned away, leaning back on the crenulations to show the conversation was over and the men hurried to make their final preparations. I stayed rooted to where I was though, watching them leave and then leaned over the ramparts next to Owain.

Owain glanced up at me. 'Your men don't need instruction?' He asked somewhat stiffly, clearly wanting time on his own.

'They're already prepped.' I admitted with a rueful grin. 'We were leaving with or without you tomorrow.'

Owain allowed himself a weak smile, and he reached out to grip my shoulder. 'I know you're worried about Elaine.' He tried to comfort me, but his gentle words were like a knife to my heart and I had to shake my head to make the images they conjured disappear. 'She'll be okay, we'll get to her.'

'I know.' I said with a confidence I did not feel. 'I know.'

'I'll show you that we don't need my father.' Owain had a hardness to his voice now. 'We don't need anyone.' He had moved on from comforting me now and was assuring himself. He was determined to show the world that he was the man commeth the hour, and nobody else could take it from him. I felt a surge of pride towards my cousin that momentarily overshadowed my concern for Elaine.

'The one thing that confuses me,' I said, forcing the subject away from Elaine. 'Is why your father didn't send any men? I know all the rubbish about a father should lead, but even if he didn't want to come himself, he's Votadini. We're descended from Goddodin, surely our warriors will want to defend our people.'

'Most of the Gwynedd Votadini have never even seen Goddodin.' Owain commented sadly. 'We have history but little more there. Goddodin is an ache in the heart but nothing more. In Gwynedd they have their homes, their families, their friends, their entire livelihoods; how much do they really care about a country they're grandfather's moved from?'

It was one of the few times I was right and Owain was wrong.