Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) (10 page)

He crawled out of the tent, his back aching. He was not meant to be a soldier. It was hard to believe that as a youth he'd dreamt of glory fighting with Arthur. Stretching in the cold night air, he remembered how he had once innocently asked the newly appointed Dux Bellorum, "Which battle was your favorite in your northern campaigns?"

"There is no such thing as favorites when it comes to battles, Cador," Arthur had said. "Friends die in all of them."

At the time, he'd found Arthur's words hard to believe, but all too soon he learned how true they were.

Gawain followed him out of the tent and tied the flap closed. Silently, they made their way to the edge of the camp where they would not disturb anyone. They found a pair of trees bordering the clearing and sank down on the grass, leaning their backs against the trunks.

"I have at least as much reason to worry about her as you, my friend," Gawain said, passing the wineskin to Cador.

Cador took a long draught and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I know."
That was part of the problem
. "Don't worry, you've been discreet enough — but I know both of you well."

Gawain grunted. "It would not matter to me if all of Britain knew.
She
is the one who wants our relationship kept a secret."

How had he gotten into a discussion of the woman he loved with the man who fucked her? Cador sighed; perhaps it wasn't that far-fetched at all, since they were on their way to Dyn Tagell — and her.

He had to change the subject. He leaned his head back against the cold bark of the tree. "Tell me, Gawain, do you have a favorite battle?" he asked, the old memory still fresh in his mind.

In the pale moonlight, Gawain cocked his head to one side, considering the question in a way Cador never would. "It wouldn't be Din Eidyn."

Cador nodded. With his brothers Gareth and Gaheris, Gawain had fought against their father Lot and their brother Agravaine at the battle of Din Eidyn. Just as Drystan had fought against Marcus.

"There is little glory in siege," Cador said, remembering the bodies dumped from the high walls, their skulls splitting open like eggs on the rocks below.

"That there is not." Gawain took the wineskin and tipped his head back for a long drink, then lowered it again. "I think my favorite battle would have to be Caer Baddon. I still remember riding down the hills of the downs towards Cerdic's forces, leading the charge on one side while Arthur led it from the other, catching the enemy between us and putting that traitor to flight."

"You saved our asses that day."

In the moonlight, Cador could see the trace of a smile flit across Gawain's wide lips. "What about you, Cador? Is Baddon your favorite battle as well?"

"Baddon was my first major battle with Arthur's forces," he said in lieu of an answer. He could still feel the fear when the enemy army advanced. Cador's men were to provide the shield for the archers, and had sent their horses behind the lines. If they'd had to retreat, Cador and his men would have been without mounts. Then the command from Arthur: "Shields up!" They knelt on the paved road shoulder to shoulder, bright spring grass sloping away on either side.

And the dying had begun.

"Ah, yes," Gawain said. "I forget sometimes how young you are. A man's first real battle is never his favorite."

"Probably not."

Cador was not young; he was over thirty now, a widower twice over. Besides, his first real battle had been before Caer Baddon, but with Drystan rather than Arthur. They had freed Yseult from the Erainn raider Gamal, a battle at sea, the decks slippery with blood before it was over, the metallic smell of it stronger even than the sweat of the living and the emptied bowels of the dead.

Cador took the wineskin, leaned his head back and squirted a shot into his mouth. His ears were growing warm from the wine and the taste was pleasant on his tongue. He turned to Gawain. "What do you think, will we be able to drive the Picts back to the frozen north?"

His big friend clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course we will, Cador! We are Arthur's men, remember?"

Cador nodded, wishing he had the same bravery and confidence as Gawain.

Not to mention the same woman warming his bed.

No. He would not allow his thoughts to go in that direction. Thank all the gods of Britain, native and Christian alike, that Gawain did not have the kind of power Yseult possessed — the ability to read a man's soul.

* * * *

In the early morning hours, Cador was shaken awake. "A messenger has arrived."

Cador shot up from his bedroll, shaking his head to rid himself of the dregs of sleep and dreams, nightmares of emptiness and shadows.
Yseult
?

"Gwythyr," Gawain murmured, as if he heard Cador's half-formed thoughts.

"Gwythyr?" Cador echoed. What did Ginevra's father have to do with anything?

"He has marched north from Celliwig with a force of two centuries. He received a messenger from Yseult, just as we did." The joy in Gawain's voice was not lost on Cador, despite his half-awake state. "She has taken refuge with the priest Illtud and is awaiting reinforcements."

Cador rubbed his eyes between thumb and forefinger, doing his best to wake up. Gwythyr was not only Arthur's father-in-law, he was the sub-king closest to Dyn Tagell. Ties were strong; Yseult had sought shelter with Gwythyr and Ginevra when she'd fled Marcus, and later had assisted in the birth of Arthur's son Loholt. Relationships between kings and subject kings were growing less well-defined every year, it seemed, but Gwythyr was indebted to Yseult through more than just custom.

"Gwythyr will wait for us inland from Dyn Tagell. His messenger will take us to the spot."

Cador pushed himself up in the confined space of the tent and dragged his hair out of his eyes. "I'm ready to ride."

* * * *

Gwythyr's fighting forces were awaiting them in a protected dale a few miles east of Dyn Tagell. Somewhere nearby, Cador thought he could hear a waterfall, or maybe it was just rapids from a stream.

They dismounted, and he and Gawain greeted the gray-haired king of Cerniw.

"Do you know if Yseult is safe?" Cador asked once the formalities were over.

Gwythyr shook his head. "We've had no further news. But that could be a good sign — if the sons of Caw had her in their power, we would have heard."

"What we don't know doesn't help us either way," Gawain said impatiently. "What
do
you know?"

"My scouts reported a force of about two hundred men who laid siege to Dyn Tagell. When they attacked, they burned the mainland barracks and killed the soldiers there."

"Two hundred," Cador said, nodding slowly. "We have that many already, half in cavalry. The question is, do we wait for the reinforcements from Lansyen and Isca to attack?"

"No," Gawain said. "Yseult is there and may be in danger."

"We should send a messenger to Illtud's church," Gwythyr suggested.

"What if the messenger doesn't get through?" Cador asked.

Gawain's expression was grim. "Then we know we need to move against the enemy."

* * * *

The messenger they sent to the mainland church of Dyn Tagell did not get through, or at least did not return. There was fear in the faint trembling of Cador's fingers as they broke their bread the next morning. He looked up, his gaze locking with that of Gawain, where he saw the same fear.

After breaking their fast, they set off for Dyn Tagell, keeping to the protection of the wooded valley. Soon, however, they would have to come out onto the flat fields along the coast, where their approach would be spotted. They were perhaps halfway there when it began to rain. Not the mist-like rain for which Dumnonia was famous; instead, it was an early summer downpour, drenching them to the skin. His men began to curse quietly.

Then Cador heard the sound of swords being drawn from their scabbards, and the woods ahead of them were full of warriors.

"Halt!" Cador called as he saw Gawain and Gwythyr ready to charge. Through the rain dripping from his forehead, he thought he recognized one of Yseult's men-at-arms. "Marrek?" he called out. "Tell your men to stand down!"

To his great relief, Marrek recognized him as well. "Lord Cador, thank the gods you're here! Men, weapons down!"

"Where is the Lady Yseult?" Gawain barked out.

Marrek shrugged. "She sent me for reinforcements and continued on to Illtud's church with only three men. When we returned, we were to send a messenger under cover of night, but the church has been taken over by the Pictish invaders. There was no sign of my lady, or Illtud either."

"And you have been camping in this valley since?" Gawain roared.

"No, my lord. We've sent scouts out regularly, trying to learn what happened and find word of Queen Yseult."

"Have you had any success?" Cador asked before Gawain could explode again.

Marrek nodded. "Dyn Tagell is fallen, the enemy on the other side of the land bridge. Fallen with very little fight, I am told."

Betrayal again, just as they suspected at the Mount of Frogs.

"What of Yseult the Fair?" Gwythyr asked.

"A villager told us she made it safely to Illtud's church. But three days later everyone in the church disappeared."

Cador had to believe that they'd escaped. Not only did Yseult have magic to aid them, she was clever. He pushed the wet hair out of his forehead. "Your news is not good, but at least you are here with more men." He glanced from Gawain to Gwythyr and back. "We are the stronger army now."

"Yes, but Yseult has disappeared," Gawain ground out.

Cador rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger, hoping the gesture would hide the sudden moisture that sprung to his eyes.
Yseult had disappeared
.

Well then, they would just have to find her.

* * * *

Yseult was growing more and more certain: she felt the presence of her lover nearby. Gawain had come to help them take back Dyn Tagell from the northern pirates and the traitor Gurles.

Good. She was tired of eating fish and drinking rainwater.

She stood at the entrance to the cave, watching the way moonlight silvered the rain outside their hideout. Drystan was here in these cliffs, she could feel him, even though he was buried far to the south, between Lansyen and Voliba. She knew she had to take back Dyn Tagell for Arthur and for Britain, but she also had to take it back for Kustennin, for Drystan, and for herself. She had come to Dumnonia unwillingly, over half a lifetime ago, but in the ways that mattered, this foreign land was home now. And for her, the center of that home was Dyn Tagell.

Illtud appeared at her elbow. "We should have run when we had a chance."

She shook her head. "An army is nearby, coming to retake the Rock. It is important that we are still here, hidden where the enemy would never expect us. But now I must go and find the British troops."

"You should not go alone."

Not for the first time, Yseult was impressed at the way Illtud accepted the knowledge she gained through magic. Illtud was one of the tolerant ones, one of those who lived his faith while still accepting other truths.

"I will go with her," Ricca said behind her.

Illtud planted a sword on the floor of the cave, a sword she had not even been aware he carried. "As will I."

"We should all go," Rufinus said. "Together we are stronger."

Yseult looked from one to the other. "Then perhaps we should set out to find our allies while it is still dark."

* * * *

This time, they went as far down the beach as they could before taking a path up the cliffs, a much more gradual route than they'd been forced to take on the way down to their hideout. Although the path was easier, once they gained the summit above the turbulent ocean, Yseult heaved a sigh of relief.

"And now?" Ricca asked.

"South along the coast and then inland at the river."

They followed her without hesitation. Before the first light of dawn crept across the headlands, they turned east and entered a stand of trees. They had gone less than a mile along the wooded path when they were stopped by British guards.

But when their commander marched through the tents between the copse of trees, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, it was not the man she expected. He was a welcome sight nonetheless. "Cador!"

By the time Yseult had informed the assembled warriors and kings of the situation at Dyn Tagell, the first birds were beginning to chirp and the sky was slowly lightening. Afterwards, Gawain accompanied her to a tent that had been hurriedly cleared for her. "May I visit you tonight?" he whispered as she lifted the flap.

"Yes, please do."

* * * *

Once Yseult and her men had gotten a few hours of much-needed sleep, their assembled troops rode the rest of the way to Dyn Tagell, setting up camp out of range of the mainland fortress. With their superior numbers, they had easily defeated the warriors posted on the roads, but taking back the promontory fort would be another matter.