[The Lion of Wales 01.0] Cold My Heart by Sarah Woodbury

Author:Sarah Woodbury [Woodbury, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Goodreads: 11086237
Publisher: Sarah Woodbury
Published: 2011-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

6 November 537 AD

Nell stood on the rampart above the gatehouse to watch Myrddin, Lord Geraint, and all but a handful of the men-at-arms from the garrison ride away from Garth Celyn in the pre-dawn hush. Myrddin rode among the leaders, just to the left of Gareth, younger brother to Gawain and a commander in his own right. It was a promotion of a sort, apparently, which hadn’t gone unremarked among those left behind.

Anything that distinguished one man from another—any time a man found favor in the sight of King Arthur—invited comment. The soldiers rode without torches, relying on the moon, which at present was playing hide and seek with the clouds, to guide them.

Damn all men for their love of battle! Even as Nell thought the words, she knew they weren’t fair. This war had been forced on King Arthur by his brother, Cai, who’d attacked one of Modred’s strongholds without consulting Arthur. Modred had used the ill-advised assault as an excuse to restart the war. The son of one of Arthur’s many sisters, Modred had set his sights on Wales from the moment he realized that he was the eldest nephew and that Arthur wouldn’t produce a son of his own.

Modred’s Mercian allies, on the other hand, had never forgiven Arthur for defeating them at Mt. Badon on his way to controlling all but the most southern regions of Wales. For thirty-seven years, they’d carried that grudge. By now, even the most die-hard apologists didn’t doubt that Arthur’s choices were few: to fight, to die, or to give up his patrimony entirely.

Nell braved the wind until the hoof beats faded, and in the end was the last silent watcher left on the battlement. The men had long since disappeared into the mist when she turned away. It was strange to be so alone, with no responsibilities, no young novice to reassure or put to work depending on the hour, no religious office to keep. Even odder was the preponderance of men around her. Few women with whom she might associate lived in the castle—and should she even try, with hardly more than a month to live?

At the entrance to the hall, King Arthur himself greeted her and gestured that she should sit with him while he ate his meal. He’d watched his men ride away and, contrary to her expectations, didn’t retire to his office rather than allow his people the opportunity to observe how he handled the next few painful hours as they waited to hear the results of the battle.

Arthur took a sip from his goblet and put it down. “Anxious?” he said, once she’d seated herself on his left.

“Yes,” she said, opting for the truth. She felt confident that Myrddin himself, if he was to fight for the king in a month’s time, would live through this battle. The king had few enough men, however, that the loss of even one was a tragedy.

“Myrddin is one of my best men,” Arthur said. “There is less need to worry for him than for most.

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