As they sat down by the table, Owain asked Pertacus where he had got his horse. Owain was very fond of horses, and in his youth he had spent some time with an uncle in Wuerensis who was the horsemaster and horsetrainer on a manor there.
"Oh, that is a sad tale, a tale of love lost and of the treacherous sea, a tale of two ancient families and an empire forgetting its glorious past."
Pertacus paused to cut himself a slice of cheese, studying the faces of his audience. Only Elffin neglected his words, the others looked attentively at him, silently urging him to continue. Satisfied, he told them his story, recounting how his family still had bonds with other old families of the Roman Empire, and how it was decided he was to be married to a daughter to a family in a land across the sea, a long way to the south.
"They travelled by land, over the mountains where cave-dwelling man-eating monsters laid ambush on them, over lush green plains and meadows where serfs and farmers stood watching the bridal party passing by. Many a river they crossed and many dark forests they found their way through. Attacks of the nameless creatures of the shadowy woods they boldly repelled, just as they defended themselves against robbers and evil barons. For you must know this: those are lands where the law is dictated by the sword, where safety can only be found in numbers, and where justice and honour are words forgotten. Alas, the Pax Romana is but a faint memory now."
In the party heading north was a troupe of soldiers, the bride to be, a stunningly beautiful girl, her protector, and her dowry: the beautiful war-horse of a race which could only be found in the homeland of the bride, Andalusia. Pertacus continued:
"After a long and perilous journey, they reached the city of Nantes in Brittany, where they boarded a ship, bound for Lonazep. At first, everything went well, but the sea is ever fickle. A storm came raging, hurling the ship to and fro, the gales ripping the sails to pieces. With a grinding noise the mast was broken and the cold, icy rain was numbing the sailors. Of all the creatures on the ship, only the horse remained calm. After an eternal night filled with fright and despair, the storm released the ship, and the sun rose above a calm sea. They drifted aimlessly, powerless to affect their destination or destiny. The supplies of water and food were running out, and all of the surviving passengers and sailors sported bruises and wounds. The poor girl had broken her arm and her protector - an elderly uncle - had been hit over the head by the falling mast and had died instantly. Still, the girl kept her spirits up and tended to the wounded to the best of her ability. When the sun set, she sang to the people aboard, songs of home and love and valour. She kept stock of their meagre supplies, dealing out rations. Her bravery kept them alive."
Pertacus paused, composing his thoughts. The silence was only broken by the sound of Elffin chewing an apple.
"I’ll try to keep it brief. The ship was found adrift outside the coast of Lindsey, and was towed to the safety of the coast. One of the healthier sailors rode with the saving ship and brought word of what had happened to my father. He sent me with men and wagons to bring them home, and so it was that I first saw my future wife in tattered clothes, tending wounded men on a desolate beach. Nevertheless, she was beautiful, and she greeted me graciously, like a queen. Her first concern was the men, and she tended to their injuries during the whole journey. At nights she sat by the fire and told us stories of her homeland, of how the sun bakes the white houses in the hot summers, how the proud men moves likes dancers, elegant, yet deadly."
He closed his eyes and sat silent for a while. "I never had the time to get to know her well. Love never grew from our brief meeting, but I did admire her, and I still miss her. She coughed a lot and her smooth cheeks were flushed by a fever that grew worse. She stayed in bed in my father’s house, but insisted that the wedding should be held as soon as possible. Weak she was, and sometimes delirious with the fever that burned her from the inside, but on the day of our wedding she stood erect and proud, showing no sign of her illness."
He sighed, and concluded the story with a silent voice, laden with pain and yearning. "She died but two weeks after we were wed, the cough tearing her apart, the fever glazing her dark eyes. She never uttered a word of complaint and died silently in her sleep. Maria was her name."
Moved by the tragic tale, they all sat silent.
"Thenks for tha grub. Time te git movin’ I sez."
Elffin’s words broke the spell and they rose from the table. The wagons were already loaded with the goods Band had ordered from London and the horses stood waiting. After thanking the factor for his help, they set out, heading for home in Bedford.
* * *
Ceredig decided that he needed more information, and leaving Dafwydd, Rhodry and Oban to make a detour around Royston with the wagons and horses, he brought his brother, Pertacus and Elffin with him inside the city.
"Now here’s what we’ll do", he said. "I want to know about this feud our lord has, and if you can find out anything else which concerns us, fine. See if you can find out more about Rhodry’s background too. But be careful, and don’t let anyone know you are Bedford men. We’ll meet outside the northern gate at sundown."
They split up and mingled with the city people, looking at the market and visiting inns, and met again in the evening. As they were walking along the road to find the camp of their friends, they recounted what they had learned.
"I heard some soldiers talk about the death of Harwd", Owain said. "They seemed to be rather sure that Band was behind it, even though it is said that he was slain by outlaws." He frowned worriedly. "They said that Band had recruited ‘Oban the murderer’ and had sent him out to kill Cadlew’s heir. I don’t know, but it feels wrong. Sure, Oban is scary, but I don’t think he is a murderer."
The next year, Owain would be the only one to doubt that Oban was just that. All of his friends would be convinced by Tyngyr’s sworn word that he had seen Oban put a dagger in the High King’s back.
"S’right. I herd thet too," Elffin sad. "Someone sez thet he’d bin kicked outa tha merc’ner comp’nee on accounta havin’ kill’d ‘nother man ova’ th’ righta git sum wuman first. Then ‘es suppus’d te heve kill’d tha wuman while layin’ ‘er."
"That can’t be right, both he and Gwyn were serving in a mercenary company until that band was obliterated." Owain objected.
"S’wot I herd, ‘tis" Elffin grunted.
"Talking about the heir", Pertacus said. "I heard that the second son is a monk at St Alban’s Abbey. I wonder if he will be called home?"
"A monk? You can’t trust people like that." Ceredig’s contempt was obvious.
"Is he the only remaining son?" Owain asked.
"Yes, I think he is. Cerwdd, he is called, and judging from what people say, he is almost a saint himself."
"Humph! A saint! And he would inherit his father? This Cadlew doesn’t seem to be a pious man." Ceredig spat.
"Do you know why he and Band have a feud?" he continued. "They were wooing the same woman, Egwene she was called, lived in Hertford. Band spent his time with her, and she fell in love with him. Meanwhile, Cadlew spent his time with her father and got a promise of marriage from him. When Band heard about this, he sneaked in at night and took off with the woman. They were found after a week, and Band’s father was furious. He forced his son to give the girl up, and she was married to Cadlew. Rumour has it that she still loved Band, and that she died by a broken heart after bearing Cadlew two sons. Cadlew and Band both blame each other for her death, and have vowed to avenge her."
"Maybe that’s why Earl Robert doesn’t like Band" Owain suggested. "Maybe he thinks it was dishonourable to run away with the girl."
"Are you saying that our new lord is scorned upon by his liege?" Pertacus asked, slightly worried.
"Not that much. You don’t have to worry about that", Owain reassured him.
They walked on in silence for a while. Then Pertacus spoke:
"It is interesting to see how history has a tendency to repeat itself. It makes you wonder if there isn’t a limit to the number of stories, and that they are repeated with new people."
"’N whut’s thet s’posed to mean?" Elffin asked.
"This story of Band and Cadlew has recently been repeated here in Royston. This Harwd who has recently deceased was wooing a young girl, a daughter of one of the knights here. Our friend Rhodry apparently shared those emotions, and when Cadlew found out about this he made sure that Rhodry would be unable to see her by assigning him to the worst times and places in his duty. After some months of this unfair treatment, Rhodry challenged Harwd to a duel to decide who would have the right to woo the girl. Harwd accepted, but his father forbade him to fight a common soldier, and so Rhodry had to meet the castellan in his stead. This man, now, is reputed to be a very good swordsman, and he easily defeated our young companion. Filled with anguish, Rhodry struck Harwd down, and was declared to be an outlaw in Royston."
"I hope no one has recognised him then." Ceredig said darkly.
They found the camp of their friends a mile and a half further along the road. Rhodry had been lying in one of the wagons, keeping out of sight when they were passed by a patrol. Having eaten at the market, they went to bed straight away. Ceredig made a watch rota with double watches, just in case, but nothing occurred during the night.
The next day, Ewan told Ceredig that he accepted the offer of becoming a soldier, and for the rest of the voyage, they took turns in learning him how to handle a sword.
* * *
When they arrived to Huntington they invited themselves to the castle, Beale Valet. Earl Robert was in Cambridge; they learned, so Ceredig couldn’t present himself to his liege’s lord at that time. The people at the castle were eager to hear what news there were from London, so they spent the night talking. The following morning they set out on the last leg of the journey, following the river down to Bedford.
As they rode, Owain took the lead with his brother.
"You know, rumour is a strange thing", he said. "At the castle I heard some people call Oban ‘the giant-slayer’ behind his back, and talk about him as if he was some kind of hero."
"Yeah, you can’t trust everything you hear", Ceredig replied. "Last night one soldier told me that king Uther’s illness has got worse and that he was dying. Later, a servant assured me that he had regained his health completely. What do you make of that?"
"I don’t know. I hope he really is recovering."
"Did you learn anything else of interest", Ceredig asked his brother, "or were you busy with those serving girls?"
At that, Owain blushed.
"I just wish they would leave me alone. I actually found one of them in my bed this night. I woke up and there she was, completely naked!"
Ceredig lifted his eyes to the sky and sighed. "And I suppose that you chased her away then?"
"Of course I did! What do you think of me?"
To this, Ceredig chose to not respond.
Band approved of the new recruits, even Ewan the driver, after hearing how he had proved himself. Ceredig gave him a detailed report in private, and when he told his lord of Harwd’s demise he noted tears gathering on his lord’s eyes.
"That’s good", Band said in a strained voice after Ceredig had finished. "You did what you had to do. I am glad that you gave him an honourable death, though. I had no feud with him, whatever Cadlew may have told him. Leave me now, I have some things to think over."
So Ceredig left in silence, having recognised Harwd’s features in the face of his lord, remembering how Band had spent a week alone with the boy’s mother.
The Roman and the Saxon Wolves
Text (c) Örjan Westin 1999.