Pendragon pc-4 Read online

  'There is little I can do about that,' Arthur observed. 'A man may be made king but once.'

  'That is where you are wrong, O King,' I told him flatly. 'You are Pendragon of Britain now-it is for you to order what will be.'

  'But I have already taken the crown here,' he said. 'What need have I of another kingmaking?'

  I answered: 'What need have you of two eyes if one sees clearly enough? What need have you of two hands if one grips the sword tightly enough? What need have you of two ears -’

  ‘Enough!' cried Arthur. 'I understand.’

  ‘But it is not enough,' I replied. 'That is what I am telling you.'

  'Then also tell me what must be done to quiet you, and you may be certain that I will do it at once.'

  'Well said, Bear!' cheered Cai, and many laughed with him. 'Hear your Wise Bard,' Bedwyr called. 'Myrddin speaks the simple truth.'

  'Very well,' Arthur said. 'What would you have me do?’

  ‘Send the Dragon Flight to summon the lords of the south to attend you in Londinium, where they shall witness your crowntaking. Only then will they believe and follow you gladly.'

  Arthur liked this. 'As ever, your words are wise, Myrddin,' he exclaimed. 'For I will be king of all, or king of none. Let us go to Caer Londinium and take the crown. North and south have been divided far too long. In me, they shall be united.'

  Truly, the south had ever given Arthur trouble. Those proud princelings could not imagine anything of import happening beyond the cramped borders of their narrow horizons. The nobles of the western realms, men like Meurig and Tewdrig, knew differently, of course; they understood the value of the north, as well as its vital strategic significance. But, from the times of the Romans, most southern lords held the north in lowest esteem and deemed the people there beneath their regard. That is why, if Arthur was to be High King in more than title only, he must make good his claim in the south.

  As laudable and necessary as his kingmaking at Caer Edyn, more so was his crowntaking at Londinium. This was where his father took the crown. This was the kingmaking I wanted for him: the same ceremony Aurelius enjoyed.

  For men had become confused. Many did not even remember Aurelius anymore – alas, his reign was too short! Most remembered Uther, and imagined Arthur was Uther's bastard boy. Therefore, I was keen to proclaim Arthur's true lineage, and demonstrate his true nobility.

  I mean Uther no disrespect. God love him, he was all the king we needed at the time, and better than we deserved. Still, he was but half the man his brother was. For this reason, I was eager to establish Arthur firmly in his father's light – especially where the lords of the south were concerned. Arthur had amply demonstrated his uncle's courage and cunning; if he could achieve his- father's skill at kingcraft, Britain might yet elude the darkness even now engulfing the world.

  That is what I thought, and that is what I believed. If you, O Great of Wisdom, secure in your toplofty perch, think otherwise, then look around: how much of what you see now would exist if not for Arthur? Meditate on that!

  So the next day we rode to the shipyards at Muir Guidan to board ships and sail south along the coast and up the turgid Thamesis to Londinium. Like his father before him, Arthur found little to love in the tangled sprawl of dwellings and footpaths of this much-vaunted civitas. On his first visit – when coming for the Sword of Britain-he told me it appeared nothing more than a midden heap floating on an uneasy morass of bogland. The stink filling my nostrils gave me to know that the place had not improved. Oh, there were a few fine buildings of stone still standing: a basilica, the governor's palace, a wall or two, and such. Truth be told, however, the church alone was worthy of its place.

  It was to Urbanus' church that we proceeded. The messengers, who had raced ahead to inform the settlements along the way, were waiting for us. Also waiting was Aelle, War Leader of the South Saecsens, those of the Saecsen Shore who had kept faith with Arthur. With the Bretwalda were his entire retinue of house carles, and all their wives and children. I believe they would have brought their cattle, too, they were that eager to honour the new British king and renew their vows of fealty.

  In this, these rude barbarians showed themselves more noble than many who esteemed themselves the highest of our wayward island brood. For his part, Arthur greeted the Saecsen War Leader like one of his own Cymbrogi, and gave Aelle and the battlechiefs with him such gifts as they prized: horses, dogs, and objects of yellow gold.

  We then formed ranks and passed through the gates and into the tight-crowded streets of die decrepit fortress. Our arrival occasioned considerable interest. Once the people of Caer Londinium glimpsed the young king with his subject lords before him they understood that someone of consequence had appeared in their midst. But who?

  Who was this brash young man? Look at him; look at the way he is dressed. Look at his retinue. Certainly, these are not civilized men. Is he a Pict? A Saecsen, perhaps? More likely, he is some fool of a northern nobleman parading his rustic vanity in the capital.

  Thronging the way, the jaded folk of Londinium shouted from the rooftops. 'Who do you think you are, stranger?' they called. 'Are you Emperor Maximus? Do you think this is Rome?'

  Some laughed at him; others jeered aloud, calling him arrogant and a fool, flinging abuse in half a dozen languages.

  'They are the fools,' Cador grumbled. 'Do not listen to them.'

  'I see Londinium has learned no love for me,' Arthur replied unhappily.

  'Nor I for them,' Bedwyr answered. 'Take the crown, Bear, and let us be gone from this miserable dung heap.'

  'How long do they think their precious walls would stand if not for you, Artos?' grumbled Cai. 'Let the barbarians have it and be done.'

  Thus we made our sullen way through the noise and stench of the city. The messengers had done their work and had informed the southern lords and Archbishop Urbanus of Arthur's imminent arrival and kingmaking. Both Paulus, who styled himself governor of Londinium, and his legate were waiting on the steps together as we turned into the long street leading to the governor's palace.

  I had met this governor before: a bandy-legged sybarite with a wide, self-satisfied smile and small pig eyes, behind which twitched a rancourous and devious mind. Paulus by name, he was a cunning and oily adversary, and he did not take Arthur's arrival kindly. There was no welcome cup, nor did the fat governor invite us into his house to refresh ourselves from our journey.

  'Greetings, Artorius.' He chortled – the unpleasant sound brought his round, fleshy face before my mind's eye. 'On behalf of the citizens of this great civitas, I welcome you. It is an especial honour for me to meet the famed Dux Britanniarum at last.'

  'Arthur is the High King and Pendragon,' the legate corrected gently. 'And I, too, welcome you, Artorius. And welcome, Merlinus. I trust your voyage was agreeable?'

  'Artorius Rex, is it?' mused Paulus in feigned surprise. 'Oh, then I am honoured indeed. I hope you will allow me to introduce you to some of Londinium's fair daughters. We have many women who would like to meet the illustrious northerner.'

  Turning to me, Paulus said, 'Merlinus? Certainly not the Merlinus Ambrosius, of whom so much is storied and so little known?' Clearly, he did not remember me.

  'The same,' I answered. Bedwyr, Cai, and Cador stood nearby, looking on – each of them worth any hundred of Londinium's self-flattering citizens. But Governor Paulus did not deign to notice them.

  'I am delighted,' Paulus said. 'Now then, when is this ceremony of yours to take place?'

  'On the coming Sabbath,' the legate said quickly. 'Merlinus, since receiving word I have been extraordinarily busy on your behalf. I have spoken to the churchmen, who assure me that everything will be ready according to your instruction.'

  'Splendid,' enthused Paulus. 'It does not appear you will require the aid of the governor.' He was so anxious to distance himself from the proceedings that I thought he might do himself an injury.

  'No,' Arthur replied, his voice hard. 'It seems I do not require
the assistance of the governor. Though I thank you for the thought.'

  'Yes, well…' Paulus hesitated, trying to make up his mind about the unusual young man before him. 'If you find you should welcome my aid, I will of course be only too pleased to assist you in every way.'

  'Again,' Arthur said, 'I thank you, but I cannot think of any possible help you might be to me. Still, I will bear it in mind.'

  Oh, Arthur had the measure of Governor Paulus and was not deceived. The legate, embarrassed by Paulus' obvious slight, begged the governor's leave to withdraw, claiming the pressure of duties. 'If you wish, I will conduct our visitors to the church,' he offered, 'and place them in the archbishop's care.'

  'I think we can find our own way to the church,' I volunteered. Blind as I was, I would still rather flounder through the streets alone than be seen in the company of Paulus' toad.

  'Of course, of course, by all means, go if you must,' said Governor Paulus. 'But return this evening, Artorius – you and one or two of your men. We will sup together. I have some excellent wine from the provinces of southern Gaul. You must come and drink with me.'

  At Arthur's hazy promise to give the invitation careful consideration, we departed, continuing on our way to the church.

  'That man is a poisonous lizard, Artos,' Bedwyr muttered sourly. 'And I would not drink a single drop of his Gaulish wine if I were you – not even if I were dying of thirst.'

  'Patience,' Arthur advised. 'We satisfy the law in coming here. Nothing more.'

  'Law?' Cai demanded. 'What law is that?'

  'Great Caesar's law,' Arthur informed them. 'Established when he first set foot in Ynys Prydein.'

  'Yes?' inquired Bedwyr. 'What is it?'

  'Every ruler must conquer Londinium if he is to hold Britain,' the king explained. I smiled to hear my thoughts echoed in Arthur's words.

  'I know of no such law,' Cador muttered. 'What is so exalted about this crumbling cow byre?'

  Gwalchavad, who had been following this exchange closely, added, 'Londinium stinks of slops and urine. And from what I have seen, the people here are more kin to barbarians than to Britons.'

  'Peace, brothers! We will not stay here one moment longer than necessary,' Arthur assured them. 'When I have achieved what I came here to do, we are away to Caer Melyn.' He stopped, and smiled to himself. 'Did you see how relieved Paulus was when we declined his invitation? Perhaps we should sup with him anyway. That would make the old toad squirm.'

  'I say we should do it,' Cador urged. 'And let us bring all the Cymbrogi with us and let them drain his precious wine to the dregs.'

  They talked like this until we reached the church, where we were met by Archbishop Urbanus, and Uflwys, who was now Bishop of Londinium. 'Hail, Arthur! Hail, Merlinus! Greetings, good friends. In the name of our Lord the Christ, we do welcome you,' said Urbanus. 'May God's holy blessing be upon you.'

  'How have you fared?' asked Uflwys. 'If you are hungry we have bread and ale.'

  'We can do better than that for the High King of Britain, Uflwys,' the archbishop said. 'You will find that we have not been idle since receiving word of your arrival.'

  Arthur thanked the archbishop, and suggested to Uflwys that the Cymbrogi stood ready to serve. 'We are well used to making our own preparations,' he said.

  'While in Londinium,' Archbishop Urbanus replied, 'you must allow us to serve you. After all you have done for Dyfrig at Mailros, it is the least kindness we can perform.'

  By this the archbishop revealed his affliction; he suffered the same peculiar blindness as the southern noblemen. The Cymbrogi war host under Arthur's command had, at hideous cost, saved Britain from its deadliest danger, and all Urbanus could see was that an obscure northern abbey would receive a new roof and altar. Oh, but they are an ignorant fetch, these haughty southern patricians.

  Nevertheless, we stayed in the precinct of the church, and in the next days it hummed like a bee tree in high summer. Riders came and went with messages both to and from various lords and noblemen. Even before entering the city, I had sent word to Dyfed in the west, as it was in my mind to have Bishop Teilo and Dubricius the Wise perform the crowntaking ceremony.

  For, despite the archbishop's apparent blessing, I knew that he was not the man to bestow the Sovereignty of Britain. It was not a question of his esteem for Arthur; he did honour Arthur – in his own way. But Urbanus had lived too long in the city; too long had he feasted at the tables of rich and powerful men.

  Their thoughts had become his thoughts – rather than the other way. In short, the archbishop cared more for the friendship and good opinion of men like Paulus than for that of God. That is the sad truth of it.

  The Kingdom of Summer required pure hearts and hands to guide it. In Arthur, the Summer Realm had found its lord; and in Arthur's kingship, a new age was being born. I did not care to allow a power-worshipping sycophant like Urbanus to midwife such an important birth. Therefore, I sent to those whom I knew to be holy men, as pure and undefiled in their faith as they were fierce in its protection.

  When Urbanus heard what I had done, he reckoned it a slight. But I told him, 'As Arthur is a man of the west and north, and will return there to establish his reign, I think you will agree it is only fitting that those who must serve with him also commission him to his rule.'

  'Ah, yes, of course,' replied Urbanus, even as he struggled to calculate the degree of affront offered him. 'When you put it in that light, I do agree with you, Merlinus. I will leave it in your hands, and in God's.'

  Within a few days, the first visitors began arriving in Londinium. A trickle to begin, the arrivals rapidly swelled to flood stage. From the Three Fair Realms of Lloegres, Prydein, and Celyddon they came, from Gwynedd, Rheged, and Dyfed, Mon and Ierne and Dal Riata, from Derei and Bernicia.

  Aelle and his kinsmen were already there, but the presence of the Bretwalda caused other lords of the Saecsen kind to appear: Cynric, Cymen, and Cissa, with their carles and kith. Ban of Benowyc in Armorica, who had supported Arthur as he had Aurelius, arrived with two ships full of noblemen and servants. Meurig ap Tewdrig, King of Dyfed; Idris of the Brigantes, Cunomor of Celyddon, Brastias of the Belgae, and Ulfias of the Dubuni. King Fergus of Ierne, who owed Arthur tribute, received the summons and obeyed.

  Each and every lord among them brought gifts for the new High King. The Dragon Flight, the Cymbrogi elite, were charged with assembling and guarding the tribute which flowed like a river of wealth into the church: gold and silver objects of all kinds – beakers, bowls, bracelets and brooches – many of them set with jewels and gemstones; there were swords and spears and shields and knives, and handsome carved-wood chests and chairs; there were bows of horn with silver-tipped arrows, and gifts of mead and ale, as well as grain and smoked meat-whole halves and haunches of pork and beef and venison. There were horses and hunting hounds by the score… the tribute of kings brought to seal the bond of fealty.

  And when at last the day came to assemble in the church for the kingmaking, there was not enough room for everyone beneath that holy roof. The yard outside the church was scarcely less crowded than the sanctuary inside, and still there were those who were forced to stand in the street with the citizens of Londinium, who had lately become very impressed with this northern upstart and wanted to attend his crowntaking, out of curiosity if not homage. Even so, many who came simply to gawk stayed to venerate the new High King.

  And this is the way of it:

  We awakened before dawn on the appointed day to pray and break fast. Then, taking up my rowan rod, my hand on Bedwyr's shoulder to guide me, I led Arthur, who was flanked by Cai and Cador, across the crowded churchyard and into the church. Directly behind Arthur came young Illryd, Dubricius' aide, who held a golden circlet in his hands. Bishop Teilo and Dubricius followed in their long cleric robes, each clasping a holy book.

  The church was already full to overflowing, and at our appearance, the throng gasped: Arthur, arrayed like a Celtic prince, seemed a creature conjured fr
om the strange, shifty light of the west or the enchanted mists of the north. He wore a pure white tunic and green trousers with a belt made of overlapping disks of finest red gold. His golden tore gleamed at his throat, and on his shoulders hung a fine red cloak.

  Looking neither right nor left, he approached the altar to the chants of the assembled monks. 'Gloria! Gloria! Gloria in Excehis Deaf they sang, filling the church with praise for the High King of Heaven, as at the altar Arthur knelt. Dubricius and Teilo took their places before him, placing their right hands upon his shoulders.

  Raising my hands, I called out, making my voice resound within those walls. 'Great of Might, High King of Heaven, Lord of the High Realms, Maker, Redeemer, Friend of Man, we worship and honour you!'

  Like a bard of old, I turned to the four quarters and offered up the prayer Blessed Dafyd had offered for Aurelius on his crowntaking:

  We pray this day for Arthur, our king;

  Light of sun,

  Radiance of moon,

  Splendour of fire,

  Speed of lightning,

  Swiftness of wind,

  Depth of sea,

  Stability of earth,

  Firmness of rock,

  Bear witness:

  We pray this day for Arthur, our king;

  For God's strength to steady him,

  God's might to uphold him,

  God's eye to look before him,

  God's ear to hear him,

  God's word to speak for him,

  God's hand to guard him,

  God's shield to protect him,

  We do summon all these powers

  between him and these evils:

  God's host to save him

  From the snares of devils,

  From temptation of vices,

  From everyone who shall wish him ill

  We do summon all these powers

  between him and these evils:

  Against every cruel power that may oppose him,

  Against incantations of false druids,

  Against black arts of barbarians,

  Against wiles of idol-keepers,