Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) (71 page)

BOOK: Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles)
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The door of the gatehouse finally began to crack and splinter, and Cador heaved a sigh of relief.

"Ladder details ready!" Arthur called out, and Cador repeated the order to the next commander in line.

Just as they were preparing to breach Celliwig's defenses, they heard horns warning of an enemy approach from the south.

Cerdic.

Instead of giving the command everyone was waiting for, Arthur galloped over to Cador. "We have to take Celliwig, cousin, we are committed now. But I want you to mount your men and enlist Aircol to face this new threat. If you can keep them from coming to Medraut's aid, we may yet get to him first and put an end to this."

Cador nodded shortly. He commanded his men to retrieve their horses as quickly as possible and meet him on the road to the Camel River. Then he pulled Wyllt around and galloped through the ranks in search of Aircol.

* * * *

At low tide, the Camel south of Celliwig could sometimes be forded on foot; luckily, that was not the case now. As Cador rode with Aircol and their men for the river, he could see in the distance that perhaps twenty of the enemy were mounted, most likely horses they had seized in Voliba, but the rest were not. At least that.

He twisted in his saddle. "Shall we cross the river and try to keep them on the other side?" he called out to Aircol over the drum of hoofbeats.

"We can try!"

They were outnumbered and sleep-deprived, but it was the best chance they had to enable Arthur to breach the walls of Celliwig. Besides, they were mounted, and most of Cerdic's men were not. A good war horse was a weapon itself.

As they forded the river, they saw Cerdic's men stop and prepare for battle.

"Archers to the fore!" Aircol called out.

With the precision of long training, the archers galloped forward, forming a wedge meant to break through Cerdic's troops and send them scattering.

"Shoot as soon as you are within range!" Aircol ordered.

Cador had no problem with the king of Demetia taking over command of their attack. Not only was Aircol older, he was much more experienced, a king who was a leader of battles in a way Cador would never be.

Although now, with his villa outside of Lindinis burned and the peace of Britain at an end, what choice did Cador have?

He drew a spear out of his baldric and prepared to throw.

* * * *

Cador didn't know how long they had been fighting Cerdic's troops, but the morning clouds had cleared enough for him to see that the sun was now high in the sky, slowly edging towards the sea. Using a repeated barrage of arrows, they had put some of the enemy to flight and killed quite a few more, all without engaging in one-on-one combat, but they no longer had enough arrows at their disposal. With their smaller force, their only chance lay in sweeping attacks and immediately falling away again.

As they turned about after one such attack, Cador saw something glinting on the horizon. He squinted to see better. Of course, it had to be — the Pictish reinforcements their scouts had told them were on the way.

He rode closer to Aircol, pointing. "Perhaps it is time we made a strategic retreat?" he called.

Aircol's nodded shortly. He raised an arm and shouted, "To the river!"

The command was repeated along their ranks, and the phalanx of cavalry turned gracefully on an invisible axis and headed for the banks. High tide had come and gone; the river was higher now than when they crossed it that morning, and their horses were forced to swim at the deepest spot, but they made it safely to the other side.

Cador glanced behind him as they galloped up the valley of the Camlann back to Celliwig. The enemy soldiers were stuck on the other side of the river.

Arthur had until low tide to defeat Medraut once and for all.

* * * *

The sight that greeted them as they neared the hill-fort did not give the appearance of a speedy victory. All along the earthwork ramparts, men were fighting one-on-one. Although the wooden doors of the gatehouse were shattered, Arthur's army had not been successful in breaching Celliwig's inner defenses.

Cador did his best to repress a feeling of hopelessness. They were still fighting. Medraut's reinforcements were on the other side of the river. Cador was alive. He swore he would stay alive to see his daughter at least once. Riona.

Riona. And Yseult. Riona and Yseult. He had more reasons than most men to survive.

* * * *

It was those two thoughts that kept him fighting as the sun inclined further to the west; as his soaked breeches dried tight and uncomfortable around his thighs; as more and more comrades died around him and the metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils. It began to rain again, making the slopes where they fought even more slippery and muddy.

When the horns sounded once more, he thought all was lost, that it heralded more enemy troops — until he heard the call and the news passing through the ranks of tired warriors.

"Gawain! The hero Gawain has arrived! Reinforcements are here! And Llacheu! Arthur's son has come to our aid!"

With Gawain and Llacheu arrived hope, and Cador could feel renewed energy course through the warriors around him, could see blades swing faster.

Gawain and his men joined Arthur near the gate house. "Greetings from your beautiful wife!" he called out when he saw Cador.

"Thank you — I think!"

The men around them who heard the exchange laughed.

After informing them of Bedwyr's injury, Gawain argued for trying the battering ram on the inner door again, even though the first detail of men at the ram had been slaughtered in the gate house.

"We don't have a chance if we don't take the gate," he urged. "Now that we have more men, we can overwhelm the defenders. If we charge the outer gate with a wall of shields, we should be able to get most of our men in."

Arthur nodded slowly. "A good plan."

Unfortunately, they had no chance to test Gawain's strategy. While they were preparing to storm the gatehouse, the command was brought that they were to rejoin Arthur's forces. "Cerdic's and Conyn's armies are here, attacking from the south and the west!"

All along the earthworks, commanders were calling their men back from the fighting, sending soldiers for their horses, mounting and regrouping to face the new enemy. Cador could no longer judge what the numbers on either side might be. Both Arthur's and Medraut's forces had taken heavy losses, but he was afraid with Cerdic's and Conyn's men they would now be seriously outnumbered.

Arthur rode in front of his commanders and companions. "Medraut and his men will soon be coming out to fight us! We do not want to be caught between him and the reinforcements coming from the south!" He whirled around on the black stallion Hengroen and pointed east towards the hill opposite them on the other side of the Camlann. "We will take up position where the river will provide some protection! There we will not be surrounded by the enemy as we would be here."

Cador gazed across the valley. It looked to be a good choice — but it was still a retreat. And on the opposite side of a river.

On the other hand, the day was growing dark; perhaps the enemy would wait until morning to pursue them — and give them all a chance to sleep.

As one, they wheeled their mounts around and galloped for the banks.

* * * *

Gawain did not know what developments had led to the grim situation in which Arthur's troops found themselves. It was obvious enough, however, that the men fighting under Arthur's command were so tired, many of them had problems staying in their saddles. He and his men had ridden hard from Dyn Tagell, and had been on the road for several days before that, but at least they'd had a good night's sleep. As he rode with his former rival Cador for the banks of the Camlann, he could see that many of Arthur's men were sluggish, their reactions slow, whatever energy they still had coming from fear and desperation.

This time of year, before the heaviest rains had begun, the Camlann was more a stream than a river, and could be forded in at least a dozen places near Celliwig. But just as they were nearing the banks, Gawain heard enemy riders thundering down the hill, gaining on them. If they could only make it to the other side and up the opposite hill, they might be safe for the night. Gawain was in the rear guard; ahead he could already see the first of Arthur's troops riding into the stream.

The thought that came to him then could hardly be called a decision, it was made so fast. He smiled. He would finally face Medraut, take revenge for the deaths of his brothers.

"Who is with me to fight the traitor Medraut
now
?" he called out, reining in his horse.

A yell of assent went up from at least a dozen riders around him. Together, they turned to face the enemy.

* * * *

Cador was already on the other side of the Camlann when he heard the war cry go up behind him: "Britannia patria!"

He wheeled his mount around to see a small force under Gawain's command clash with Medraut's cavalry.

It was suicide.

Arthur noticed the pause. "Forward, men! We must gain the ridge!"

Cador heard the command, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of a line of perhaps twenty mounted warriors facing down Medraut's fifty. Medraut's charge was like a boulder rolling downhill. It hit Gawain's cavalry with a force that split their line in two, sending horses and men flying. They were using their momentum as a kind of weapon of its own. As horse ploughed into horse, the mounts reared up, striking out with their hooves.

Aircol rode over. "Come, Cador, we must ride! If we do not, Gawain's sacrifice is for nothing!"

With difficulty, Cador tore his gaze away.

As he spurred Wyllt up the hill after the rest of Arthur's men, he remembered Gawain's words, so many years ago: "A well-deserved warrior's monument. Promise me you will do your best to see that I will have such a one as well when I die."

If Cador himself survived this battle, he swore he would find Gawain's body and see to it that he got the monument he deserved.

* * * *

It was still dark when Cador was awakened by the sounds of troops preparing to ride. Barely rested, he rolled out of his cloak, every bone and muscle aching, and wondered how their scouts had even seen the enemy in this light.

As it turned out, they had barely noticed Medraut and Cerdic soon enough. As their too-small army charged down the hill, it was obvious they would not have the advantageous position they'd envisioned, would not be able to pick off enemy warriors as they forded the stream. At least a score of horsemen were already on this side of the Camlann; Arthur's troops would have to battle the horsemen before they would be in a position to cut down the men behind trying to cross on foot.

He glanced at Arthur not far away, and their gazes met. As the heralds blew the horns for the charge, Arthur saluted him.

"Britannia patria!" came the war cry from hundreds of throats. The hooves of the horses thundered down the hill.

"Medraut rex!" came the answering cry — an effrontery that made Cador even angrier.

Their charge ploughed into Medraut's first line of cavalry not far from the banks, pushing them back towards the bushes and low trees that grew there. If they could gain that spot, their archers could hide behind the underbrush and pick off the enemy in the stream.

Then he heard the thunder of hoofbeats from the south, and he knew there would be no such opportunity.

* * * *

They fought well into the morning, their horses' hooves churning the grass beneath them into bloody mud. To his surprise, in the heat of battle, the shield with the additional leather straps was easier to manipulate than it had seemed when he first began to practice with it. All around him was death, but Cador had no time to see which friends had fallen and which still fought. He continued to parry and thrust automatically, as if he had never done anything else, although his sword arm ached abominably.

Then he saw a group of riders wearing Medraut's blue spears slash their way in the direction of a battle between red sea monster and gold dragon on a field of purple.
Cerdic against Arthur.
Was Arthur among them, and Medraut trying to attack from two sides?

He recognized Anir nearby and pointed. "We must go after Medraut!" he yelled. He doubted if the other man could hear him over the sounds of fighting, the clash of steel, the neighing and snorting of the horses, the screams of the injured men, but he seemed to understand Cador's gesture and take in the situation. He motioned his men to follow and galloped in pursuit of the blue spears.

They fought their way forward, trying to form a wedge between Medraut's warband and the men wearing the Pendragon device who were fighting Cerdic. The battle grew more desperate, and the field around them muddier. The sky was little more than a soupy gray, and Cador lost track of time, unable to judge by the sun. All that was left was deflecting attack, killing before he was killed, and riding to find another enemy.

Finally, all that was left where they fought were perhaps a dozen warriors on horseback, as well as another dozen that had lost their mounts in battle.

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