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Sagramor, and I found his company reassuring; the Numidian was the toughest and most fearsome of all
Arthur s warlords, and his prowess was reflected in his narrow, axe-sharp face. He was the most loyal of
men, a staunch friend, and a wondrous teller of stories, but above everything he was a natural warrior
who could outfox and outfight any enemy. The Saxons were terrified of Sagramor, believing he was a
dark demon from their Otherworld. We were happy that they should live in such numbing fear and it was
a comfort that, even though outnumbered, we would have his sword and his experienced spearmen on
our side.
 Won t Cerdic attack in the south? I asked.
Culhwch shook his head.  He s not making any show of it. Nothing stirring in Venta.
 They don t trust each other, Sagramor spoke of Cerdic and Aelle.  They daren t let one another out
of their sight. Cerdic fears we ll buy off Aelle, and Aelle fears that Cerdic will cheat him of the spoils, so
they re going to stick closer than brothers.
 So what will Arthur do? I asked.
 We hoped you d tell us that, Culhwch answered.
 Arthur doesn t speak to me these days, I said, not bothering to hide my bitterness.
 That makes two of us, Culhwch growled.
 Three, Sagramor said.  He comes to see me, he asks questions, he rides on raids and then he goes
away. He says nothing.
 Let s hope he s thinking, I said.
 Too busy with that new bride, probably, Culhwch offered sourly.
 Have you met her? I asked.
 An Irish kitten, he said dismissively,  with claws. Culhwch told us he had visited Arthur and his new
bride on his way north to this meeting with Mithras.  She s pretty enough, he said grudgingly.  If you
took her slave you d probably want to make sure she stayed in your own kitchen for a while. Well, I
would. You wouldn t, Derfel. Culhwch often teased me about my loyalty to Ceinwyn, though I was not
so very unusual in my fidelity. Sagramor had taken a captured Saxon for a wife and, like me, was
famously loyal to his woman.  What use is a bull that only serves one cow? Culhwch now asked, but
neither of us responded to his jibe.
 Arthur is frightened, Sagramor said instead. He paused, gathering his thoughts. The Numidian spoke
the British tongue well, though with a wretched accent, but it was not his natural language, and he often
spoke slowly to make certain he was expressing his exact ideas.  He has defied the Gods, and not just at
Mai Dun, but by taking Mordred s power. The Christians hate him and now the pagans say he is their
enemy. Do you see how lonely that makes him?
 The trouble with Arthur is that he doesn t believe in the Gods, Culhwch said dismissively.
 He believes in himself, Sagramor said,  and when Guinevere betrayed him, he took a blow to the
heart. He is ashamed. He lost much pride, and he s a proud man. He thinks we all laugh at him, and so
he is distant from us.
 I don t laugh at him, I protested.
 I do, Culhwch said, flinching as he straightened his wounded leg.  Stupid bastard. Should have taken
his sword belt to Guinevere s back a few times. That would have taught the bitch a lesson.
 Now, Sagramor went on, blithely ignoring Culhwch s predictable opinion,  he fears defeat. For what
is he if he is not a soldier? He likes to think he is a good man, that he rules because he is a natural ruler,
but it is the sword that has carried him to power. In his soul he knows that, and if he loses this war then
he loses the thing he cares about most; his reputation. He will be remembered as the usurper who was
not good enough to hold what he usurped. He is terrified of a second defeat for his reputation.
 Maybe Argante can heal the first defeat, I said.
 I doubt it, Sagramor said.  Galahad tells me that Arthur didn t really want to marry her.
 Then why did he? I asked gloomily.
Sagramor shrugged.  To spite Guinevere? To please Oengus? To show us that he doesn t need
Guinevere?
 To slap bellies with a pretty girl? Culhwch suggested.
 If he even does that, Sagramor said.
Culhwch stared at the Numidian in apparent shock.  Of course he does, Culhwch said.
Sagramor shook his head.  I hear he doesn t. Only rumour, of course, and rumour is least trustworthy
when it comes to the ways of a man and his woman. But I think this Princess is too young for Arthur s
tastes.
 They re never too young, Culhwch growled. Sagramor just shrugged. He was a far more subtle man
than Culhwch and that gave him a much greater insight into Arthur, who liked to appear so
straightforward, but whose soul was in truth as complicated as the twisted curves and spooling dragons
that decorated Excali-bur s blade.
We parted in the morning, our spear and sword blades still reddened with the blood of the sacrificed
bull. Issa was excited. A few years before he had been a farm boy, but now he was an adept of Mithras
and soon, he had told me, he would be a father for Scarach, his wife, was pregnant. Issa, given [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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