Читать книгу Arthur, King - William Speir - Страница 15

The other kings took their seats, but Ambrosius remained standing, staring defiantly across the table at Vortigern. The High King glared back, waiting to see what Ambrosius would do.

“This Council is not obligated to consult you, King Vortigern. You answer to us, not the other way around.”

Vortigern slammed his fists onto to the table. “You insolent little Roman whelp,” he growled, referring to the fact that Ambrosius was only in his mid-twenties. “How dare you speak to me in that manner?”

Ambrosius sneered. “Better to be an insolent Roman whelp than the Saxons’ lapdog, King Vortigern.”

Vortigern’s face turned red. He seemed unable to speak.

King Ogrfan of Ergyng stood. “My Lords, please. If we cannot respect each other, let us respect our various offices and keep this meeting congenial.”

Ambrosius nodded to his host. “Thank you, Lord Ogrfan. You’re right.” Looking at Vortigern, Ambrosius added, “King Vortigern, will you please take your seat? I promise I’ll answer your initial question presently.”

Vortigern looked confused at Ambrosius’ change of tactic. He sat, and a servant brought him wine to drink. His eyes never left Ambrosius.

“My fellow Kings of Britain,” Ambrosius began. “Most of you know that Hengist and Horsa broke their treaty with us and invaded Lundun and Atrebatia shortly after Easter. Kings Gerren of Dumnonia, Triffyn of Dyfed, Cynyr of Gwent, and our host, King Ogrfan of Ergyng, answered the call and helped my army drive the Saxons back. Losses were high on both sides, but we were victorious.”

King Cadell Ddyrnllug of Powys stood. “Lord Ambrosius, why didn’t you send for the High King when you requested help from the southern kingdoms?”

“I did send messengers to the High King,” Ambrosius replied. He gestured to the southern kings sitting next to him. “We all sent messengers to the High King requesting his help. We received no replies.”

“That’s a lie!” Vortigern shouted.

“It’s no lie,” King Gerren of Dumnonia stated. “My messengers returned saying that they were forced to speak with Queen Rowenna because you were ‘attending to more pressing matters.’ I’d like to know what those pressing matters were, King Vortigern.”

“There were no pressing matters that would keep me from receiving or responding to your messages,” Vortigern insisted. “The queen never told me about any messengers that she received on my behalf.”

“Hardly surprising, since the messages requested that your armies help fight against her father,” King Triffyn of Dyfed said sarcastically.

Vortigern slowly rose to his feet, red-faced and clearly furious. “Are you suggesting that my wife purposely withheld your messages from me out of loyalty to her father?”

“No, King Vortigern,” Triffyn said, standing and facing the High King. “I’m stating it outright. Because any other explanation would be that you committed treason against your fellow kings. Either you have a traitor in your house who’s in league with the Saxons, or you are the traitor in your house.”

Vortigern slumped back into his seat – clearly distraught from the accusation.

King Cadell of Powys and King Brychan of Brycheiniog, both Welsh kings, jumped to their feet and shouted their support for Vortigern. The great hall erupted. Most of the kings began shouting accusations against Vortigern and his queen, but a few shouted their support for the High King. Vortigern continued glaring at Ambrosius but remained silent.

Ogrfan, worried that the kings might start fighting, motioned for the servants to bring in food and wine. The servants placed platters of food around the table and refilled the wine goblets, disrupting the meeting. Ogrfan’s plan worked; the kings grew quiet and sat until the servants left the great hall. Only Ambrosius remained standing with an inscrutable expression on his face as he stared at Vortigern.

“Do you have something else you wish to accuse me of?” Vortigern asked, regaining his composure.

“No,” Ambrosius said calmly. “But I do wish to apologize again for the death of your son, Vortimer. It was unfortunate that he forgot his responsibilities to Britain by attacking me. With his victories over Hengist and Horsa, he’d have made a fine High King. His death returned the High Kingship to you, and that has proved disastrous for us all. You’ve failed in your responsibilities, King Vortigern. You’re not fit for the High Kingship, and I recommend that this Council choose someone to replace you. You will, of course, retain your kingdom of Gwynedd and continue to be a member of this Council, but the title of High King should be stripped from you and given to someone who will faithfully carry out its duties.”

Ambrosius sat down amid the stunned silence of the kings at the table. Even those who expected Ambrosius to recommend electing a new High King were dumbstruck when it actually happened. It was the first time that a High King of Britain had faced such a challenge since before the Roman Legions arrived five hundred years earlier.

It didn’t take long for the silence to be replaced by the din of voices as each of the kings spoke at the same time. Ogrfan, unable to bring order to the meeting, called for a recess until later in the day. Vortigern immediately left the great hall, followed by his supporters: Brychan of Brycheiniog, Cadell of Powys, Gwrast of Rheged, and Ceretic of Strathclyde.

Ambrosius found Uther walking alone along the western walls of the fortress. Ambrosius had just finished speaking with Mor and Nudd-Lludd, but now he wanted to have a conversation with the lord of the kingdom farthest away from his own.

“Greetings, Lord Uther,” he said as he approached. “May I join you?”

Uther smiled and gestured for Ambrosius to walk with him. “Of course, Lord Ambrosius. It’s been a long time since we last spoke privately. How have you been?”

“Up to my shoulders in Saxons, as usual,” Ambrosius replied. “My lands border those of Hengist and Horsa, so I feel the tip of the spear more acutely than anyone else.”

“Mor is beginning to feel the same way, thanks to Colgrin occupying the eastern part of his kingdom,” Uther noted.

Ambrosius nodded. “I was just talking with Mor about that. Colgrin could potentially split Britain in half. You’d be caught between his Anglians and the Picts and Caledonians to the north, and I’d be caught between him and Hengist and Horsa’s Saxons to the south. Britain as we know it would cease to exist, and the survivors would be under Saxon and Anglian rule for generations. We need a united north to prevent this from happening.”

“I don’t think we have a united north, Lord Ambrosius. You saw Gwrast and Ceretic leave the hall with Vortigern, didn’t you? The kings of Rheged and Strathclyde are against you. Ceretic controls the northwestern border, and Gwrast holds all of central Britain. If the Council votes to replace Vortigern as High King, and the kingdoms of Rheged and Strathclyde decide to rebel against the Council’s wishes, then the kingdoms of Ebrauc, Bryneich, and Gododdin will be cut off from the rest of Britain. We won’t be able to come to the aid of the new High King, and the new High King won’t be able to come to our aid either. It’s exactly what Colgrin, Hengist, and Horsa want.”

Ambrosius nodded. “What’s to be done?”

“The new High King must restore unity between the kingdoms of Britain before Colgrin, Hengist, or Horsa can move against us,” Uther replied. “The fighting between the kingdoms must not reduce our fighting strength in case of invasion. Our enemies will watch for any chance to exploit our squabbling.”

“But how can there be unity if any of the kings reject the Council’s decision?” Ambrosius asked.

Uther stroked his beard as he regarded at Ambrosius. “It won’t be easy. The new High King will have to pledge to come to the aid of any kingdom that requests it, even if that kingdom has openly rebelled against him. The new High King must rise above any opposition. He must lead by example and inspire unity through his actions. His commitment to be the High King for all of Britain will help restore any unity that’s lost by his election.”

Ambrosius nodded and stopped walking. “Lord Uther, will you give your support to me to be the next High King?”

Uther turned and stared at him for a moment. “Yes, Lord Ambrosius. I believe that you’re the best choice to lead us against our enemies, and you have my support. But remember, the High King must unite us in peace, not just in war.”

“I’ll remember,” Ambrosius assured him. Smiling, he added, “You don’t think I’m too young?”

Uther shook his head. “I’m only a few years older than you are, but you’ve won more battles than I have. That’s an important quality for the next High King.”

Ambrosius grasped Uther’s forearm. “Thank you, my friend!”

The Council reconvened in the afternoon. Ogrfan provided plenty of food and drink, and the kings seemed to be in a better mood. Vortigern continued watching Ambrosius, as if he expected the Overlord of the Roman Kingdoms to challenge him to single combat for the High Kingship.

The afternoon discussions were less contentious than the morning debate had been. Each king stood and spoke on the issue of who should be High King and why. When it was Uther’s turn, he rose and addressed the Council.

“My friends, we are beset by enemies on all sides. The Picts and Caledonians are lined up upon our northern borders. The Irish attack our western shores and have seized territories from Strathclyde down to southern Wales. The Anglians hold most of eastern Ebrauc, and the Saxons control our southeastern coast. This is not the time to be fighting among ourselves. With so many knives poised at our necks, we need a High King who will lead our armies to victory against our enemies.”

Uther turned to the man sitting the end of the table. “King Vortigern, you led our armies well for many years, but your policy of using Saxon mercenaries to help you defend Britain against the Irish, Picts, and Caledonians has been a disaster for all of us. That should have been obvious on the Night of the Long Knives, when Hengist slaughtered our leaders while they attended his peace conference. Your continued poor judgment regarding the Saxons and their allies has brought us to the brink of ruin, and your decision to marry Hengist’s daughter is a clear indication that you’re no longer fit to lead us against the forces of the man that you now call father. I vote that you be removed as High King and that Lord Ambrosius be named High King instead.”

Uther sat down. Glancing to his left, he saw Mor and Nudd-Lludd nodding silently. Ambrosius, sitting across the table from Vortigern, smiled. Glancing to his right, Uther noticed that Gwrast and Ceretic glared at him angrily.

When it was their turn to speak, both Gwrast and Ceretic spoke in support of Vortigern, as did Brychan of Brycheiniog and Cadell of Powys.

Ambrosius stood and addressed the Council. “I know that there are many of you who would prefer that Vortigern remain our High King. Believe it or not, I am one of them.”

Ambrosius pointed to Vortigern. “But only if King Vortigern acts like the High King of Britain and not the ally of the Saxons who threaten our very existence! If he’s unable or unwilling to push the Saxons and their allies back across the channel forever, then he’s no longer our High King. He must be deposed for the good of Britain, and for the good of each of our kingdoms. I vote that he be stripped of the High Kingship. Choose who you will to replace him. But know this. If you elect me as your next High King, I, and my armies, will come to your aid when you call for it, no matter whether you support me as High King or not. I won’t hold your vote against you, nor will I hold your opposition to me against you. The High King is High King of all of Britain, not just the kingdoms that he likes or chooses. That is my vow to you all.”

Ambrosius sat. Most of the kings nodded in approval. Vortigern just glared. He was the only one who hadn’t yet spoken. He rose slowly and looked around the table.

“Kings of Britain, you elected me as High King. Nowhere is it written that you can change your minds. None of you stood up for me when my son, Vortimer, usurped the High Kingship. But then none of you objected when the High Kingship returned to me upon Vortimer’s death at the hands of my challenger. I am High King, and I’ll remain High King until I die. I don’t recognize this Council’s authority to depose me, and if you attempt to do so, it’ll mean war between us. I’ll defend my crown, and my allies will rally to my banner and stand with me against you.”

Ambrosius jumped to his feet. “You’d use the Saxons against your own people to retain the High Kingship?!”

“I’ll use whatever methods I see fit, as is my right as High King,” Vortigern replied.

Ambrosius looked around the table. “There can no longer be any doubt of your treason, Lord Vortigern. No High King can serve the kingdoms of Britain while threatening to unleash the Saxons and their allies against us. If you defy the Council and force us into war against you, I’ll lead my armies across Britain, and I’ll destroy you and your allies.”

The kings who supported Ambrosius rose and gathered behind him at the end of the table: Nudd-Lludd of Bryneich, Gerren of Dumnonia, Triffyn of Dyfed, Cynyr of Gwent. Ogrfan of Ergyng, Mor of Ebrauc, and Uther of Gododdin. Even Budic of Brittany joined the other kings in support of Ambrosius. Only Brychan of Brycheiniog, Cadell of Powys, Gwrast of Rheged, and Ceretic of Strathclyde stood with Vortigern.

Vortigern reached for his standard and lifted it out of the holder. “The red dragon will never bow to the gold dragon, Lord Ambrosius. Not while there’s a breath left in me.”

He left the great hall, followed by his four supporters.

When only the kings who supported Ambrosius remained, Uther said, “Hail, Ambrosius, High King of Britain!”

That night, Uther, Mor, and Nudd-Lludd spoke privately with Ambrosius.

“We need to return to our kingdoms and prepare for any actions against us at the hands of our enemies or of Vortigern’s supporters,” Uther said. “But it’s not safe for us to cross Rheged any longer, and to go around would put us close to the lands held by the Saxons and the Anglians.”

“I’ll send three companies of cavalry to accompany you back to your kingdoms,” Ambrosius promised.

“Thank you, King Ambrosius,” Nudd-Lludd said.

Ambrosius nodded. “You three are my only support in the north. I can’t risk anything happening to you.”

“We’ll be ready when you need us,” Uther assured him. “At some point you’re going to have to do battle with Vortigern. The sooner you get that over with, the sooner we can turn our eyes back to our enemies.”

“I agree,” Ambrosius said. “I’ll keep you informed about what happens with him and his allies. If the Saxons or Anglians make any attempt to send men to support Vortigern’s forces, I’ll need your armies to help drive them back.”

“We’ll be there,” Mor stated.

The next morning, Uther, Mor, and Nudd-Lludd set out from Ergyng with ninety soldiers from Ambrosius’ cavalry. They rode east around the southern border of Rheged before turning north along one of the Roman roads that led from Londinium to York.

On their third day north, Uther noticed Rheged soldiers positioned where the main roads crossed King Gwrast’s borders. He pointed it out to his two companions.

“That didn’t take long.”

“I guess Gwrast decided to close his borders,” Mor said sadly.

“At least his soldiers aren’t coming after us,” Nudd-Lludd added.

“They’re no match for Ambrosius’ cavalry,” Uther said.

As they reached the southern borders of Ebrauc, Mor and one company of cavalry left them to ride toward Mor’s temporary capital. Uther and Nudd-Lludd rode on with their escorts and reached Pons Aelius, the capital of Bryneich, several days later. Uther and the company of cavalry that accompanied him spent one night there to rest their horses, and they set out for Gododdin at first light. Five days later, they reached Din Eidyn. Uther offered the hospitality of his hillfort to the cavalry company, but the cavalry commander politely declined. Uther rode up the causeway to the hillfort as the cavalry company turned south to return to Ambrosius.

Merlin was waiting for Uther when he reached the great house. “How did it go at the Council meeting?” he asked.

“Ambrosius is now High King,” Uther replied.

“How did Vortigern take the news?”

Uther shook his head. “He refused to recognize the Council’s decision. He says he’s going to fight to remain High King, and he threatened to unleash the Saxons on us if we oppose him.”

Merlin looked shocked. “Surely not!”

Uther nodded.

“Who is with him?” Merlin asked.

“Strathclyde, Rheged, Brycheiniog, and Powys.”

“No surprises there,” Merlin commented.

Uther climbed the steps to the great house. “I want to review our defenses after I’ve seen Ygerna and Arthur. We need to consider Strathclyde as a potential enemy.”

“Lady Ygerna asked me to begin making preparations in case things went this way,” Merlin said. “I took the liberty of moving scouts along our western border, but there’s more to be done that I want to discuss with you.”

Uther nodded and entered the great house. Merlin followed him, but he didn’t enter the great hall with Uther. He turned down the corridor that led to the chamber he used when he stayed at the hillfort.

Ygerna sat near the fire in the great hall when Uther walked in. Arthur was in her arms, awake and smiling. Uther crossed the hall quickly. She stood, and he kissed her and his son.

“I understand that you told Merlin to start preparing our defenses,” he whispered in her ear as he nuzzled her neck.

“It seemed prudent once we received your letters about the Council of Kings. Did the meetings go well?”

Uther told her what happened at Ergyng.

“You supported Ambrosius?” Ygerna asked. “I thought that you wanted to avoid war with your neighbors.”

“I did, but once Vortigern threatened to use Saxons against us, I couldn’t support him any longer. I’d rather fight Ceretic to the death than have a High King who’d ally with our enemies to help him stay in power.”

Ygerna nodded. “Well, you’re home, and for now, your kingdom is at peace.” She led him to their private apartments.

“I need to talk to Merlin about the defenses,” Uther said when they reached the nursery.

Ygerna put Arthur in his crib and led Uther to their chamber. “That can wait, my Lord.”

Uther knew better than to argue.

Weeks passed, and summer arrived with no word about Vortigern or his allies. Uther instructed Merlin to make sure that roads were clear between Din Eidyn and the border with Strathclyde.

“I want the scouts to have a clear path to get here in case Ceretic decides to move against us,” Uther told him. “Speed is our best defense against attack.”

On a beautiful morning in early July, guards above the main gates of the hillfort saw a rider galloping up the causeway. The rider passed through the gates and rode for the great house. Uther, who had been alerted about the rider, waited at the bottom of the stairs.

The rider dismounted and bowed to Uther. “Lord Uther, Soldiers from Strathclyde have crossed our border!”

“Is it a raiding party, or is it an invasion force?” Uther demanded.

“It’s too large for a raiding party, my Lord. And King Ceretic is with them.”

Damn! Why can’t he see that supporting Vortigern is suicide?

After the messenger provided details about the place where the Strathclyde soldiers crossed the border, Uther called for the captain of his guards. “Send riders to the villages and order their soldiers to head for our western border. The cavalry will leave here in one hour. See to it that they’re ready!”

“Yes, my Lord!” The captain raced off to carry out his orders.

Turning back to the messenger, Uther said, “You’ll accompany the cavalry and lead me to King Ceretic.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Uther ran back to the great house to get his armor and his sword, and to tell Ygerna what was happening. Damn! A war between the kingdoms of Britain is not what we need right now!