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our defences and there, standing high above the enemy, I lifted the skirts of mail and leather to piss down
the hill towards the Saxons.
I had not known Guinevere was close, and the first I knew was when she laughed and that laughter
rather spoiled my gesture for I was embarrassed. She brushed away my apology. You do look fine,
Derfel, she said.
I swung the helmet s cheekpieces open. I had hoped, Lady, I said, never to wear this gear again.
You sound just like Arthur, she said wryly, then walked behind me to admire the strips of hammered
silver that formed Ceinwyn s star on my shield. I never understand, she said, coming back to face me,
why you dress like a pigherder most of the time, but look so splendid for war.
I don t look like a pigherder, I protested.
Not like mine, she said, because I can t abide having grubby people about me, even if they are
swineherds, and so I always made certain they had decent clothes.
I had a bath last year, I insisted.
As recently as that! she said, pretending to be impressed. She was carrying her hunter s bow and
had a quiver of arrows at her back. If they come, she said, I intend to send some of their souls to the
Other world.
If they come, I said, knowing that they would, all you ll see is helmets and shields and you ll waste
your arrows. Wait till they raise their heads to fight our shield wall, then aim for their eyes.
I won t waste arrows, Derfel, she promised grimly.
The first threat came from the north where the newly arrived Saxons formed a shield wall among the
trees above the saddle that separated Mynydd Baddon from the high ground. Our most copious spring
was in that saddle and perhaps the Saxons intended to deny us its use, for just after midday their shield
wall came down into the small valley. Niall watched them from our ramparts. Eighty men, he told me.
I brought Issa and fifty of my men across to the northern rampart, more than enough spearmen to see
off eighty Saxons labouring uphill, but it soon became obvious that the Saxons did not intend to attack,
but wanted to lure us down into the saddle where they could fight us on more equal terms. And no doubt
once we were down there more Saxons would burst from the high trees to ambush us. You stay here, I
told my men, you don t go down! You stay!
The Saxons jeered us. Some knew a few words of the British tongue, sufficient to call us cowards or
women or worms. Sometimes a small group would climb halfway up our slope to tempt us to break
ranks and rush down the hill, but Niall, Issa and I kept our men calm. A Saxon wizard shuffled up the
wet slope towards us in short nervous rushes, jabbering incantations. He was naked beneath a wolfskin
cape and had his hair dunged into a single tall spike. He shrilled his curses, wailed his charm words and
then hurled a handful of small bones towards our shields, but still none of us moved. The wizard spat
three times, then ran shivering down to the saddle, where a Saxon chieftain now tried to tempt one of us
to single combat. He was a burly man with a tangled mane of greasy, dirt-matted golden hair that hung
down past a lavish golden collar. His beard was plaited with black ribbons, his breastplate was of iron,
his greaves of decorated Roman bronze, and his shield was painted with the mask of a snarling wolf. His
helmet had bull s horns mounted on its sides and was surmounted by a wolf s skull to which he had tied a
mass of black ribbons. He had strips of black fur tied around his upper arms and thighs, carried a huge
double-bladed war axe, while from his belt hung a long sword and one of the short, broad-bladed knives
called a seax, the weapon that gave the Saxons their name. For a time he demanded that Arthur himself
come down and fight him, and when he tired of that he challenged me, calling me a coward, a
chicken-hearted slave and the son of a leprous whore. He spoke in his own tongue which meant that
none of my men knew what he said and I just let his words whip past me in the wind.
Then, in the middle of the afternoon, when the rain had ended and the Saxons were bored with trying
to lure us down to battle, they brought three captured children to the saddle. The children were very
young, no more than five or six years old, and they were held with seaxs at their throats. Come down,
the big Saxon chieftain shouted, or they die!
Issa looked at me. Let me go, Lord, he pleaded.
It s my rampart, Niall, the Blackshield leader, insisted. I ll fillet the bastard.
It s my hilltop, I said. It was more than just my hilltop, it was also my duty to fight the first single
combat of a battle. A king could let his champion fight but a warlord had no business sending men where
he would not go himself, and so I closed the cheekpieces of my helmet, touched a gloved hand to the
pork bones in Hywelbane s hilt, then pressed on my mail coat to feel the small lump made by Ceinwyn s [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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our defences and there, standing high above the enemy, I lifted the skirts of mail and leather to piss down
the hill towards the Saxons.
I had not known Guinevere was close, and the first I knew was when she laughed and that laughter
rather spoiled my gesture for I was embarrassed. She brushed away my apology. You do look fine,
Derfel, she said.
I swung the helmet s cheekpieces open. I had hoped, Lady, I said, never to wear this gear again.
You sound just like Arthur, she said wryly, then walked behind me to admire the strips of hammered
silver that formed Ceinwyn s star on my shield. I never understand, she said, coming back to face me,
why you dress like a pigherder most of the time, but look so splendid for war.
I don t look like a pigherder, I protested.
Not like mine, she said, because I can t abide having grubby people about me, even if they are
swineherds, and so I always made certain they had decent clothes.
I had a bath last year, I insisted.
As recently as that! she said, pretending to be impressed. She was carrying her hunter s bow and
had a quiver of arrows at her back. If they come, she said, I intend to send some of their souls to the
Other world.
If they come, I said, knowing that they would, all you ll see is helmets and shields and you ll waste
your arrows. Wait till they raise their heads to fight our shield wall, then aim for their eyes.
I won t waste arrows, Derfel, she promised grimly.
The first threat came from the north where the newly arrived Saxons formed a shield wall among the
trees above the saddle that separated Mynydd Baddon from the high ground. Our most copious spring
was in that saddle and perhaps the Saxons intended to deny us its use, for just after midday their shield
wall came down into the small valley. Niall watched them from our ramparts. Eighty men, he told me.
I brought Issa and fifty of my men across to the northern rampart, more than enough spearmen to see
off eighty Saxons labouring uphill, but it soon became obvious that the Saxons did not intend to attack,
but wanted to lure us down into the saddle where they could fight us on more equal terms. And no doubt
once we were down there more Saxons would burst from the high trees to ambush us. You stay here, I
told my men, you don t go down! You stay!
The Saxons jeered us. Some knew a few words of the British tongue, sufficient to call us cowards or
women or worms. Sometimes a small group would climb halfway up our slope to tempt us to break
ranks and rush down the hill, but Niall, Issa and I kept our men calm. A Saxon wizard shuffled up the
wet slope towards us in short nervous rushes, jabbering incantations. He was naked beneath a wolfskin
cape and had his hair dunged into a single tall spike. He shrilled his curses, wailed his charm words and
then hurled a handful of small bones towards our shields, but still none of us moved. The wizard spat
three times, then ran shivering down to the saddle, where a Saxon chieftain now tried to tempt one of us
to single combat. He was a burly man with a tangled mane of greasy, dirt-matted golden hair that hung
down past a lavish golden collar. His beard was plaited with black ribbons, his breastplate was of iron,
his greaves of decorated Roman bronze, and his shield was painted with the mask of a snarling wolf. His
helmet had bull s horns mounted on its sides and was surmounted by a wolf s skull to which he had tied a
mass of black ribbons. He had strips of black fur tied around his upper arms and thighs, carried a huge
double-bladed war axe, while from his belt hung a long sword and one of the short, broad-bladed knives
called a seax, the weapon that gave the Saxons their name. For a time he demanded that Arthur himself
come down and fight him, and when he tired of that he challenged me, calling me a coward, a
chicken-hearted slave and the son of a leprous whore. He spoke in his own tongue which meant that
none of my men knew what he said and I just let his words whip past me in the wind.
Then, in the middle of the afternoon, when the rain had ended and the Saxons were bored with trying
to lure us down to battle, they brought three captured children to the saddle. The children were very
young, no more than five or six years old, and they were held with seaxs at their throats. Come down,
the big Saxon chieftain shouted, or they die!
Issa looked at me. Let me go, Lord, he pleaded.
It s my rampart, Niall, the Blackshield leader, insisted. I ll fillet the bastard.
It s my hilltop, I said. It was more than just my hilltop, it was also my duty to fight the first single
combat of a battle. A king could let his champion fight but a warlord had no business sending men where
he would not go himself, and so I closed the cheekpieces of my helmet, touched a gloved hand to the
pork bones in Hywelbane s hilt, then pressed on my mail coat to feel the small lump made by Ceinwyn s [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]