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Artorius opened his mouth to give the shout to charge, when the Irish cavalcade drew abrupt rein and halted, hundreds of them, just out of javelin distance. For long moments, an eerie, u
"Morgana!" The word was wrung from Artorius.
He spurred forward, gesturing the cataphracti to wait. Ancelotis was right on his heels.
They met halfway between the two armies, with cowering Saxons lying prone in the mud all around them, desperate to avoid rousing fatal attention. Morgana rode like a woman carved of granite, face pale and haggard with exhaustion and strain. Medraut was with her. Ancelotis wondered at the glow in the boy's eyes, an i
"Greetings, stepbrother," Morgana said quietly, spine straight as a church steeple. "I bring allies of Britain." She gestured with one graceful hand. "King Dallan mac Dalriada. Riona Damhnait, a Druidess of his privy council. Keelin, daughter of Dallan mac Dalriada and wife to Medraut, King of Galwyddel by my lawfully recorded order. He has made the Princess of Dalriada a Queen of Galwyddel, binding our two peoples into one. Before you speak," she lifted a slim hand in a commanding gesture that closed Artorius' lips over the protest balanced there, "know that the Saxons have committed atrocity in Irish-held lands and attempted to shift blame for it onto Britons."
Lailoken...
Stirling found himself wondering where that bastard might be, along with his unseen guest.
Morgana, reiterating the story of poisoned wells at Fortress Dunadd, which he and Artorius already knew, added, "The Dalriadan Irish and their kin from Belfast seek alliance with any force strong enough to hurl Saxon swine into the sea. Dallan mac Dalriada begs the favor of joining their not inconsiderable force to ours to keep both our islands safe from Saxon ravages." Her eyes glowed with fiery pride and a defiance that left Artorius pale and silent. "It would," she murmured, "at the very least, secure much of our northern border and a very large portion of our western seacoast."
Artorius sat blinking for long moments. He finally brought himself sufficiently out of shock to say, "I ca
"Brother," she said gently, "they have already given us the greatest hostage they possess: Keelin, of the royal house of the Scotti clan, last of her father's direct line. They have held Medraut and me in their power for more than a week now, could have killed us and launched an attack against Galwyddel, against Ynys Manaw and Strathclyde, against any Briton kingdom they chose, with our armies distracted by this Saxon menace to the south. They chose, instead, to seek alliance against a common enemy."
Ancelotis and Stirling, both of them deeply curious about Morgana's new allies, studied the face of the Irish king. They saw pride there, strength, and pain, but nothing of treachery. And Keelin—God help, queen of Galwyddel—had reached across to grip Medraut's hand. The look he gave her was so gentle, so protective, Ancelotis could not hold suspicion in his hands. He turned to Artorius.
"This is a matter for the kings and queens of Britain to discuss in council," he said quietly. "If I may suggest it, allow the Irish army to camp here, keeping the Saxons imprisoned between us, and hold a dialogue with King Dallan mac Dalriada and Queen Keelin in the meeting hall at Caer-Badonicus. Would to God Emrys Myrddin were not missing. We could use his guidance."
"Missing?" Artorius asked sharply.
Ancelotis explained.
"I mislike it," the Dux Bellorum muttered. "I mislike it intensely." Ancelotis wasn't entirely certain whether he spoke of Emrys Myrddin's disappearance or his new in-laws. Both, probably.
"Very well, let us see to these wretches' confinement, then seek the council chamber."
Chapter Twenty
Morgana was aware of narrow scrutiny from all sides as she rode through Caer-Badonicus' open gates with Irish kings and high-ranking noblemen at her back. Whispers and muted sounds of shock followed their progress. By the time she swung down from the saddle, she was weary enough that standing was an effort. King Cadorius greeted her with outstretched hands and a kiss on the cheek, a far more gracious welcome than she'd been expecting.
"I will not ask," he murmured, "until council has been convened. Please introduce me to your guests."
The introductions went round, formal and stiff and wary on all sides. Curious women and children clustered to stare while Briton soldiers ma
What he breathed softly into her ear, for her hearing alone, sent shock and terror skittering through her veins. "Bre
She lurched around, heart pounding. The muddy ground slid and shook underfoot. The look in Ancelotis' eyes shocked her even more deeply than his words. He was trying to smile.
"Dr. McEgan," he said softly, in English, "I owe you the deepest apology it is possible to offer. Cedric Ba
Bre
"Will you answer one question?" he asked softly.
She nodded, still unable to find her voice.
"Were you Cuma
Her eyes stung with salt. She nodded, bit her lip. "I watched an Orange bomb blow up my sister, my niece. I was young, so full of rage and hurt... I left them, eventually, when I realized the hate was turning me into the same thing I was fighting. Left for Dublin and made a clean break. I'd no contact with the IRA for years. Until this." She blotted her eyes with shaking hands. "My grandmother was the one who convinced me I was the only one who could get close to him, close enough to find out what his plan was and stop him. I had the professional credentials to join the team.
"I'm convinced Ba
Stirling's brows shot up.
"Aye," she said softly, "it was a bit of a shock. The Orangemen had gone to the Provos to ask their help. Ba