Sign of the White Foal (Arthur of the Cymry trilogy Book 1) by Chris Thorndycroft

Author:Chris Thorndycroft [Thorndycroft, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

Cadwallon

“You should have sent word of your coming,” the captain said as they began the long, steep climb up the narrow mountain ledge. “We would have sent an escort to meet you.”

There was no ‘my lord’ or ‘your highness’ in the gruff captain’s address, Cadwallon noted. Wherever King Efiaun of Dunauding’s allegiance lay, it was clear he did not consider him to be his Pendraig. Still, they had not been attacked upon approach and had received an armed escort to Efiaun’s royal seat. That counted for something perhaps. An undecided mind at best.

“There was no time to send a messenger ahead of us,” said Cadwallon. “We come straight from the battlefield and time is short. And we saw no companies bearing the sigil of Dunauding on our way.”

“Aye, that is easy enough to believe. King Efiaun has called all his warriors to Din Emrys to guard the mountain, to defend it against… well, Gaels some say. What others say I don’t like to comment on. Nonsense, to my mind.”

So, Cadwallon thought. Word of the Cauldron-born has reached Dunauding. “If you fear Gaels,” he said, “then I take it your king does not support my uncle Meriaun and his pact with the hounds of Erin.”

“I cannot comment on that,” the captain replied. “Best you speak with the king yourself.”

Cadwallon turned in his saddle to glance at Meddyf who rode beside him. They shared a look. So there is hope… it said.

Crowning the summit of a small crag in the shadow of the Giant’s Cairn, Din Emrys’s dry-stone ramparts followed the natural line of the hilltop, filling in the gaps between its rocky outcrops. It had a rather ramshackle appearance but Cadwallon was not fooled. Din Emrys was one of the most impregnable strongholds in all Albion. There were only two approaches to the mountain retreat. Both passed below the fortress walls for some length making any assault a hard and costly exercise.

Din Emrys had once belonged to an old British family – the Ambrosii - who had made a name for themselves in the Romano-British military and administrative elite. The Lord Vertigernus had stripped the Ambrosii of their fortress and given it to the sons of Cunedag when he had relocated them to Venedotia. The last of the family – the aged Ambrosius Aurelianus – was currently holding back the Saeson advance in the far south, his lineage forgotten and his heritage lost. Nevertheless, Din Emrys still held the name of the Ambrosii in its native British form.

“When we reach the summit,” Cadwallon told his escort, “I would appreciate it if you fetched your surgeons quickly. We have many wounded in our train.”

“I will pass along your request,” said the captain. And then his curiosity got the better of him. “Was it a big battle?”

“Yes. We shattered Meriauned’s advance at the Black Falls. No further attack will come from the south.” He felt no need to hold back the details of his victory from either friends or foes. News of his

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