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Authors: Anthony Hays

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As I reached the curve in the River Axe where it sweeps off to the west, I saw two hills to the south of me. My wanderings had carried me often enough in their vicinity that I could recognize
them easily. I knew that if I rode due south, between them, that I could cross the marshy levels to the northwestern corner of Ynys-witrin’s range of hills.

Ahead of me, I recognized a ford across the River Axe. Turning the horse’s head, I prepared to cross and begin my run to safety. Just as I reached it, a knot of horsemen rode up, three
nobles and others of their escorts. They were lesser nobles, two of Teilo’s banner and one of Dochu’s. I ducked my head and moved to ride on when I heard a shout.

“You! Soldier!”

I thought about riding on, but I knew he was shouting at me and to ignore it was simply to draw attention to myself.

Turning my horse to face them, I raised my hand in salute. “Aye, my lord.”

It was a boy lord wearing Dochu’s banner on his tunic. “Attend us. We are riding to a council of war on the little tor ahead. We may have need of you as a messenger.”

A council of war was the last place I wanted to be, but they were riding in the right direction, and I reasoned that once there, perhaps I could slip away. Councils of war brought many men
together. ’Twas easier to lose oneself in a crowd.

I fell in behind them as their horses splashed across the ford. The other soldiers were haphazardly dressed, a sign that their lords were short of funds. David’s men were, at least,
arrayed uniformly. The old Roman gold mines lay within David’s lands. I wondered, for half a second, why he did not use this gold, if he had it, to bribe the Scotti. But then I realized that
David was cagey, and he would not hazard his own purse on so risky an enterprise. No, he would leave that burden to others.

We rode at a brisk pace. I learned nothing from the escorts save for the name of a woman who served good
cervesas
as well as other necessities. But the trip took only about twenty
minutes, and we soldiers were left at the base of a wooded hill, holding the reins of the nobles as they climbed the steep incline.

Among the other escorts, I saw a half-dozen of David’s and my heart leaped into my throat. I was sure to be caught out. Keeping my head low, I hung to the outer edge of the clump of
soldiers, hoping that I could skirt them and drift off quietly. A path had been cut through the trees on the slope, but they grew fairly thick around the base. If I could but get around them, they
would block me from view.

Acknowledging the greetings of other soldiers with a grunt and half-salute, I kept my horse at a slow gait, wandering, almost aimlessly it must have seemed, to the trees on our right, a cluster
of chestnut and maple.

Then I saw him, carefully descending the newly cut path, the white blazes of fresh wood dotting the hill like iron studs on a belt.

David.

Worse yet, he saw me.

Our eyes locked.

Recognition flared.

A swift kick to the horse’s flanks and I was off, as I heard David shouting instructions behind me.

I had rounded the trees and headed down the southern trail when I heard the horse’s hooves behind me, pounding the ground like one of our old tribal drums.

Even as I heard the whistle of a spear in flight, I did not dare look around, not even when its sharp edge clipped my ear and I could feel the warm blood run down my neck. I simply kicked the
horse all the harder, urging it faster.

As if it could hear me, the horse laid its ears back and lengthened its stride.

Then, with at least one of my pursuers without his spear, I chanced to glance behind me. Four horsemen pursued me, all four David’s men. The others must have wondered why David’s men
chased another of their lord’s soldiers, for I certainly looked like such.

Over all of the shouting, I heard a familiar voice rise. Another glance back, and I caught a glimpse of David, his fist raised in a gloved clench, shouting curses at me. I would have smiled but
for the quartet of men chasing me.

I was out in the levels by then, those flat, marshy lands surrounding Ynys-witrin. In the distance, in the bright moonlight, I could see the rising hills that made an island of the Tor. Another
ten minutes’ hard ride and I would be safe.

Or I would have been until my poor horse stepped into a badger hole.

For a second, I flew through the air, the shield lashed to my half-arm flailing wildly about. I broke my fall into the soft ground with the shield. It sent me tumbling, wrenching my knee, but I
had no time for pain.

As quickly as I could, I got to my feet and staggered back toward my horse. Poor fellow, his leg was broken badly, so badly the bone showed whitely through his hide. Swiftly, without hesitation,
I loosed the spears tied to his saddle and thrust one deeply into his throat. He had borne me too well to suffer. As the blood gushed forth, I stepped back and wished him well on his trip to the
next life.

In the distance, I heard the hoofbeats of my pursuers drawing closer. The Tor and Ynys-witrin were still too far away to run for it, not when chased by four horsemen. A fast look about revealed
no easy escapes, no high river bluffs from which to jump. Just four traitors to face.

Some low shrubs and hedges marked the ground, and I ducked down low. I had only one advantage, surprise. With any luck, the odds would be cut from four to one to two to one. With luck.

And then they were on me.

Or rather over me.

By the time they had caught up with me, they were riding so fast that they overshot my hiding place. Aye, they would have swept on into the early morning light, just beginning to show its face
beyond the Tor, but my poor horse gave me away.

As it was, the first two soldiers missed the horse’s carcass completely. It was the third whose eye caught it.

And it was the third whose eye caught my first spear.

I rose swiftly, hiding only two or three feet from where he stopped. It was no skillful deed to sink my spear point into his eye socket, thrusting into his brain, twisting for good measure and
then jerking it loose.

Only it did not come cleanly loose and only succeeded in yanking the soldier from his perch and wrenching the spear from my one-handed grasp. I snatched up the other spear and whirled around to
face my fourth pursuer.

His horse, racing up on the scene, reared up in fright, toppling its rider to the ground. I was on him before he could scramble to his feet, driving the spear into his unprotected neck, sending
a gout of blood spurting into the air. I snatched the dagger from his belt, tucked it in my own, and then spun to face his fellows.

They were on me.

The first was a seasoned soldier who bore down on me without hesitation. I tried to block his sword with my spear, but he was a man of uncommon strength, and the blow broke the shaft below the
point.

Having dodged him, I could not dodge the second. His sword split the air by my head and cleaved a slice off the side of my head.

Pain exploded as I fell to the ground and my stomach revolted against me as I threw up the bad bile collected there. The world was spinning as I struggled to regain my feet. Blood was flooding
down the side of my face, obscuring my vision and stealing yet more of my strength.

In a scarlet-colored haze, I thought I saw one of the soldiers dismount to finish the kill. I had made it to my knees by then, willing myself to rise. I paused to catch my breath as he closed
in.

Then, with every bit of strength I had left, just as he came near enough to smell him, I drove my dagger into his stomach and twisted.

I fell away then, saying a prayer for Mariam and Ygerne. An odd satisfaction came over me as I reckoned that I had accounted for three of them. Not bad for a one-armed man.

But then blackness closed in and stole the prayer from my lips.

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

 

 

 

A
t first, I heard nothing but voices, dim, confused, as if spoken from a barrel or through a heavy cloth. My eyes tried to open yet they felt glued
shut. A voice broke through the fog finally.

“He’s trying to open his eyes! Clean his eyes!”

Then I felt a wet piece of cloth, warm and comforting, wiping across my eyes. My eyelids came open and I saw Merlin’s face nearly against my own.

“Good. He is awake.” Merlin withdrew his face, much to my relief, and turned away from me. The pain in my head pounded like a dozen Saxons beating it with rocks.

I felt a hand under my head and a beaker held to my lips. A lukewarm liquid passed my lips, burning my throat. “What is that, poison?”

“Extract of willow bark, Malgwyn, as you know all too well,” Merlin chastised me. “I believe that sword sliced off some of your good sense.”

“A sword, Merlin?” I heard Arthur’s voice. “I thought Malgwyn had taken the orders and this was some new tonsure.”

With a start, I remembered all that had passed. I jerked to a sitting position. “Arthur! Lord David, Teilo, Dochu, the Scotti.” It all came rushing out. Arthur patted me on the
shoulder.

“I know, Malgwyn. I know. David has already sent a messenger in.”

“Demanding your surrender?”

The whole room, Merlin, Bedevere, Illtud, and Arthur, burst into laughter. “Malgwyn, that sword must have indeed upset your brain. David is on our side.”

Despite Arthur’s jest and the pounding in my skull, my brain was working just fine. But I would have to approach this carefully. “What did his messenger say?”

“That Lauhiir, Teilo, and Dochu were conspiring to attack me here, take me captive or kill me. That David was playing along with their game to better serve me, but when their attack came,
he would turn his forces on them.”

David’s treachery knew no bounds. When he saw that his plans were falling apart, he simply arranged to change sides. Except that I had been slated for death. “How come me
here?”

“One of my patrols came upon you in the levels, not far from here,” Illtud answered. “My soldiers saw a man race away on a horse. We found you with three of Lord David’s
men slain, lying about you.”

“Malgwyn,” Arthur began sternly, “I trust you have a good reason for killing them. If I am to hold Lauhiir accountable for killing my men, I cannot excuse you for killing
David’s.”

Bedevere handed me a beaker of mead and I drank deeply. The pain in my head was receding a bit. “Rigotamos, have I ever lied to you?”

Arthur cocked his head to the side. “No, Malgwyn, you have not.”

“Then listen carefully. David is not your ally. He changed sides when he learned that his plans had fallen apart. This he told me himself.”

“But Malgwyn—”

“Arthur!” Merlin stopped him with his most schoolmasterly voice. “Listen to him.”

So, between drinks of watered wine, I told Arthur my tale, from the journey to Bannaventa to following the Scotti, to my capture, imprisonment, the death of Llynfann, and my escape.

Arthur had long ago taken up a chair next to where I lay. He tugged on his beard and stayed silent for several minutes. “You make much sense. Illtud’s patrols spied the gathering of
soldiers some hours ago, before David’s messenger arrived. But what you tell of Lauhiir bribing the Scotti to raid our southern lands is news indeed. If all you say is true, we may have a
serious fight on our hands, Malgwyn.”

“Do not take David’s vows of allegiance at face value, my lord. Watch carefully. He may merely hold his men in reserve until he sees how we fare against the others. Watch your
flanks. Send scouts to oversee David’s forces. Be prepared for a strike even as you prepare for his assistance.” I was on truly safe ground here. It was just such advice that first
brought me to Arthur’s notice. “And, if there has been killing, my lord, David began it. Llynfann was operating under my instructions, therefore he was in your service.”

Arthur nodded. “Understood and agreed.”

“How stand your forces here?”

“We have moved up all but a hundred from the castle. But that may not be enough to handle the threat that Teilo and Dochu present, especially if the Scotti are convinced to join in battle
here. Lauhiir’s men have scattered. Some have come to my banner; others may have joined the rebels. I have sent messengers to Gawain in the north and Mark in the south to gather their men and
set patrols out immediately. Kay is too far away to help us here.”

“Has Lauhiir been found? I suspect he will confirm much of what I have said. Anything, I imagine, to save his own neck.”

I watched as every head in the room turned to avoid my eyes. “What?”

Bedevere spoke first. “He has sought sanctuary with Coroticus. As long as he remains within the abbey precinct, we cannot touch him.”

“How did he cross the
vallum
? How did he get past your guards?”

No one answered at first. Finally, Merlin, with a scowl, ventured an answer. “We do not know. He just appeared near the burying ground. Our men took him immediately, but Coroticus hurried
up and granted him sanctuary.”

Regardless of how my head hurt, despite the weakness that gave tremors to my legs, I rose from my pallet. The time had come to put an end to this affair. Aye, this affair and that of Elafius and
Patrick as well. I was tired of this puzzle, and I was beginning to believe that I understood how to unravel it.

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