Ceretic had taken refuge in Cunetio, two days march to the east, instead of retreating to his own territory where he might have to face the anger of the South Saxons and the men of Cantware. Yet maybe he hoped to persuade the Saxons, who must be longing to avenge Badon, to send him reinforcements when the spring came. Fearing this, Arthur decided on the unusual course of attacking in winter.
Since most of the tyrants and their warriors had gone home the forces at Arthur's disposal were reduced. This was of little consequence for Ceretic's host too had largely melted away and the morale of those who had stuck with him was far from high. Moreover, hibernating in Cunetio, they were certainly not expecting an attack.
The meeting of the war council, now composed of Cato, Kei, Bedwyr and Gwenwynwyn, had none of the formality of the Table and so Gwenhwyvar was there together with Medraut, Amr and myself. Arthur's idea was a stealthy arrival on a night when there was no moon and then a dawn attack. Everyone had assumed that Arthur would lead, with Gwenwynwyn arranging for supplies and Kei marshalling the men when, unexpectadly, Gwenhwyvar got up to speak. "Now your greatest battle is over Arthur, wouldn't it be better if you stayed here and gave your mind to matters of peace? There's much to be planned and done. You've said so yourself. The people want to know how you intend to lead them. This campaign's important, but not important enough to call for your presence."
Cato looked embarrassed as though Gwenhwyvar had behaved with impropriety and Medraut eyed Arthur attentively. It was left to old Gwenwynwyn to surpirse us by declaring, "To my mind Lord Arthur, Lady Gwenhwyvar's suggestion is excellent. It's true that the tyrants chose you as Leader in War and if that's all you want to be, then lead this campaign." He then lumbered to his feet as if appalled by his own presumption but it was too late for him to resume his old role and so he said, "The truth is that the people of Britain want you to be their Leader in Peace."
As one we turned towards Arthur. Gwenwynwyn was not given to flights of fancy and his words had struck home. "Thank you for your advice Gwenwynwyn." said Arthur who, after some moments of reflection, went on, "Cato, you will lead the attack on Ceretic. And that's as it should be since you want to avenge the death of Gerontius." He turned to Kei. "Give every assistance to Cato. Do everything as you would for me. You will be second in command. But you Bedwyr, will stay here. I shall need your advice. Indeed, I'll need the advice of all of you and of Myrddin. For I must know how you think I should act if I'm to be the Leader in Peace."
With Cato and the warriors gone, Conyn, at his own request, among them, Arthur spent some time in questioning me on the imperial administration - on which I was no authority. At least we knew there was no possibility of reviving such an administration in Britain - the military and civil government of Roman days must have cost about forty thousand solidi a year - for there was no longer coinage in circulation and revenue was in kind, but Arthur saw no reason why the governors, prefects and magistrates should not perform their duties much as before. A lot would depend on the tyrants who appointed them.
We enjoyed discussing these matters in the warm water of the Baths, though not in the hot cauldron fed by the sacred spring of Sul herself. And what better place to be during a British winter. Now, about a week after Cato's departure we heard a commotion outside the great bath. Arthur sprang out of the water, seized his sword, and stood there waiting for whatever danger was coming. The next moment we heard cries of "Cato, Cato. Victory." A crowd of warriors surged in with Cato and Kei at their head and came to a halt in front of Arthur.
Cato bellowed, "Gerontius is avenged." He snapped his fingers; to my shame it was a wild eyed Conyn who put a basket before him and removed its lid. Cato drew out by its long blood clotted hair the head of Ceretic. A ghastly sight. The eyes were gouged out but still Ceretic seemed aware of us, his drooping lips baleful and accusing as though saying he would be proved right, whatever our moment of triumph. Arthur said nothing until Cato had returned the object to the basket, then he asked, "Where Cato? How?"
"In accordance with your plan Arthur. The night was so cold that our breath froze on the air. And so black; if we hadn't had some men who knew the area we'd have got lost. We left our horses in the woods and crept up to the town walls. The gates were closed and no guards could be seen; dozing in the guard houses they were. We placed the mounting poles quietly against the walls. A few of the young men, led by Conyn here, shinned up, got to the guard houses and cut the sentries' throats, so silently that outside we heard nothing and wondered what was going on. Then the gates opened and we poured in making for house after house - oh I can tell you, all Ceretic's famed discipline had vanished. There we found the enemy. Curled up in bed with women. Ah, what slaying Arthur. What slaying. Not a man was spared, not a woman or a child. Cunetio's a dead place now, given to the wolf and the raven."
"Where was Ceretic?" Arthur demanded curtly.
"Asleep. The first he knew of us was when Conyn and I dug his eyes out. Ah, what fun we had with him then. How he screamed."
Arthur's voice shot up to the high vault like an arrow and then fell, shattering the joy of the crowd as it echoed around us. "My cloak." At once someone put his cloak around him and he passed through the warriors like a knife. I caught Conyn's eyes and they faltered; he had seen my disgust. In fact I felt like kicking him but then, I reflected, I had not been raped by Ceretic's bullies. Even Cato was to be pitied; he had lived too long in the shadow of his father's death. The warriors began to disperse sullenly. Kei followed them but Cato and Conyn hung back. "Cato," I called. "Come in the water. But you Conyn," I said sourly, "Go home; you've had your revenge. No need for you to play the warrior anymore. Go home." Conyn's eyes still had a crazy look about them. "Where is my home Lord Cadfan?" he whispered, fearful to hear my reply. I did not relent directly; I just pointed at the basket and ordered, "Don't take that with you. Angharad wouldn't like it."
In the comfort of the bath, Cato had to tell me in detail how blinded Ceretic was roasted; how he and his men, Conyn foremost among them, had slowly spitted their victim, against his ludicrous resistance, on a long spear shaft like a pig; how Ceretic's squeals had driven them into a frenzy; how they had danced naked around the sizzling, squirming body, torn strips of flesh off it, split open its belly, pierced it on every side, castrated it, jeered at its bawling ('ah, you should have heard Conyn howling in reply, Cadfan') and then, one by one, jerked off over it so that each mans seed could go to the Otherworld with the sacrifice they were offering to Gerontius of Dumnonia. Finally, with an air of supreme satisfaction, Cato concluded, "So is our defeat avenged, our shame ended. From now on I shall give much stronger support to Arthur. Even before I took Cunetio, he promised me that Dumnonia should be extended eastward."
After Cato's recital, my brain was a battleground of emotions: revulsion, fascination to hear what one human being can do to another out of hatred and, most horrible, for sheer pleasure, and, I admit it, jealousy that Cato had known Conyn in a way I had not. Yet why condemn Cato? Why reject Conyn? What good to protest to the gods? Cruelty lurks in all of us. Yes, all of us, without exception. And so I replied as calmly as I could, "To include all Ceretic's land? Right down to the Isle of Vectis?"
For the first time Cato's confidence drooped. "Well, not exactly. Not until all Ceretic's men have been destroyed."
"All Ceretic's men? You said you'd annihilated them."
"Well. Not exactly. The other ealdorman - Cynric - had already left. Don't worry. There'll be no problem in dealing with him by and by."
I did not pursue the matter. "The countryside around Cunetio," I asked, "and to the east of it, what's it like? Are many people living there? Are there still estates?"
As Cato floated at ease, his eyes caressed the bodies of the men scattered about the bath. "I've not got the sort of mind that can size up such things quickly," he said disparagingly. Some people have - Eleutherius for instance. He may be a pompous bore but he knows what there is and what there isn't around Eburacum like the back of his hand." He imitated Eleutherius' grand voice, "In Calcaria there are five estates with more than fifty bondsmen and twelve cantrefs with-" He paused and then out came that wheedling voice of his. "Cadfan, let Conyn enter my service. You're displeased with him, I know. Let me have him. He's a fine fighter. I'll train him."
"To kill, to torture, to cheat. To become like you Cato, eh. No. I shall protect him from any more horror, if I can. You took him to the brink but I shall not let him fall into the abyss. He will stay with me. He will have a life of peace in my home until one or other of us is dead." My words had at last expressed the hostility bottled up inside me but as so often happens with the haphazard, they turned out to be prophetic.
Now, if Cato had failed to use his eyes to assess the countryside, Kei had, as I found out the next day when I hobbled to Arthur's house using the crutch Arthur's carpenter Gwlyddyn had made for me. That crutch by the way is beautifully carved of elm wood and finely polished with beeswax to enhance the grain, almost a work of art. It is in a corner of my study here in Alexandria reflecting the light, even as I sit writing. Increasingly, in my old age, I need it again.
Arthur was dour as Kei reported that by the time he had entered Cunetio the slaughter could not be stemmed. "I tried, Lord Arthur. But everything was in confusion. Cato had told his men to kill anything that moved. My Lord, I was the one who killed Ceretic. I heard ghastly noises mingled with laughter coming from a house. I rushed in. It was Ceretic, like a huge cinder but still alive. I beheaded him straightaway. My Lord, you know what men can do in war. Say no more of this, especially to Cato. His father's death has burned in him too long. He needed revenge." Mighty pleased with his own magnanimity Kei had refrained from heaping blame on Conyn.
"And so Cato has got what he needed," Arthur said coldly. "Much good will it do him. Kei, you will see that Ceretic's head is kept safely at Camulos. But now, tell me, have any reports come in about our conquered land. I no longer intend to give it to brave Cato of Dumnonia. I want the valleys of the Kennet and the Thames for myself. I need land, I need people to work that land. My resources are too weak. In territory taken back from the Saxons, no tyrant shall establish himself. Such land shall belong to the Imperium of Britain, by which I mean myself."
Kei and I both smiled. It was the first time either of us had heard Arthur refer to himself in such a way; it delighted us that he would be getting some of Britain's most fertile areas. I became Eleutherius and boomed, "Excellent, excellent." Arthur took my wooden crutch and ran his fingers appreciatively along it. "I'm afraid," said Kei, "Cato's actions won't have made the people down the Kennet trust us. Even though many are Britons he treated all of them like Saxons. Ceretic treated both peoples well.. Some Saxons have been living there for two generations. Old mercenary families. And good farmers too. You can't blame them if they start to move out."
"No. It shall never be Cato's land," Arthur repeated angrily. "And Dumnonian warriors shall never return there." His face looked sad and dispirited. Without expecting us to reply, he asked, "How do I end the hatred in the hearts of the Britons and the Saxons? We Britons still breathe the air of Hengest's vile massacre but forget the ills we did. Cato's slaughter at Cunetio continues the dirge. Say what you will, Ceretic did have an idea - better than any of Cato's. How can the Saxons trust me when I've fought so long against them? Yet they must. I'll make them see that they can live with the Britons under my justice." He fell silent for a while before stating, "When summer comes I'll visit London and Camulodunum. I'll meet all the Saxon leaders. Yes. That's it. Kei, send messengers to them to say we shall come in peace. Tell them we wish them well."
This decision surprised me but phlegmatic Kei merely asked, "Wouldn't it be better to put a garrison in London first?".
"No. I'll send an officer to see how the place is faring - a rector, a prefect; some sort of title, I don't care what, so long as it's clear he represents my authority."
"And the members of the Table my Lord? Won't you consult with them? The matter's most important." Kei was alert after all.
"So important that I don't want the tyrants trying to change what I'll do. I'll announce that I'm going - going on my own. They'd be only too glad to come with me. And as we rode down, their greedy eyes would be dividing up the land. Before long they'd be fighting over it. I'll make sure that if ever they visit the place, they'll see a land firmly under my control, a land on which they'll never set their claws. What's more a garrison going to London would be an error just now for when the Saxons saw it coming they'd prepare for war. And who knows what reinforcements they mightn't call from Frisia and Germany. Why, they might ask Clovis himself over to defend them."
"Who'll govern the lands you've taken?" I asked. "Such a big job. It will need time. You can't do it yourself."
Arthur looked at Kei who burst out, "No. Not I. I'm a soldier. I couldn't run a province." Since I longed to put an end to Kei's barely concealed resentment of my influence, I nodded my head vigorously. Let him believe that I saw him at Arthur's side as long as he lived.
"Ah yes. I've plenty of soldiers. No shortage of men in that profession in Britain. And plenty of men of God too." Arthur hesitated. "You know, the bishops used to perform civic duties before Britain collapsed."
"Bishops cheek by jowl with Saxons doesn't sound a good idea," I put in quickly. "What about Eleutherius? Cato spoke disparagingly of him. That should be a recommendation."
"Eleutherius is a tyrant - or almost a tyrant," said Kei. "So what Arthur's just said, rules him out. And a good thing too; when his father dies and he can assert his full rights he'll be the greatest man in the north. Changes of heart are unpredictable; the greatest supporter can become the greatest menace." He threw a quick glance at me and added, "Or a rival can become a friend."
There was silence, then Arthur said firmly, "Tyrant or not, let it be Eleutherius. He administers well. How could he keep such pomp in Eburacum if his own estates weren't well run? Let him be the man - and let the north become even more divided." His voice became all confidential. "You know young Eleutherius will do anything for me. His loyalty to me is more absolute than - even than yours Cadfan; at least you still criticise me. The longer his father lasts and the more he's away, the more the control of the north will slip into the hands of all those brothers and cousins of his who are said to be governing it so loyally; and the less chance he'll ever have of recovering it. Which is good. I want no great leader in the north, no Coel."
This exploitation of Eleutherius' loyalty might seem cold blooded, yet of such callousness is statecraft made. And so did Arthur control the tyrants until the end of his life, his strategy always the one he had used at Badon: never confront the enemy until the last moment, after you have undermined him; then strike swiftly at his heart. Happily Eleutherius never had to be struck at.
My enthusiasm for Arthur's astuteness had reached uncritical proportions by the time Myrddin turned up from Moridunum where he had buried old Lailoken. The two of us dined together - Angharad went in awe then of the famous Druid - and our conversation only got going when that still voracious appetite of his had been assuaged. Then, after a protracted belch, I grandly asserted, "Arthur will soon rule the whole country. And I've written a letter to Constantinople for money and for a ship crammed with arms. I've asked the Emperor to send craftsmen - engineers to show the Britons how to restore the water system and-"
"Ah yes," Myrddin interrupted. "We must have our hot baths."
"Not just the baths," I said angrily. "That water will run hot for eternity in any case. We want trained masons."
"Then you should have written for masons."
"I have you idiot. You wouldn't let me finish. As soon as I can find someone reliable travelling to the East, the letter will go. In a few months my plea will get there."
"Ah, but will it be heard?"
"Of course it will. What's the matter with you Myrddin? Surely you can see that Anastasius has sent me here?"
"I can see that you're reclining here - very comfortably."
"Oh by all the gods Myrddin, I'm sure madness runs in your family. Don't you believe me? Do you want to see my credentials - signed by the Emperor himself? Before long you'll have proof. Before long Anastasius will make Arthur a Consul."
"Very condescending of him I'm sure. Have you ever been to Babylon?"
"No, I have not been to Babylon. I live in Egypt. Why should I have been to Babylon? It's outside the Empire."
"Ah, you only visit places inside the Empire - like Britain. All the same Babylon's easier to get to from Egypt than Britain. You should have gone there. Do you good."
"You needn't lie to me Myrddin. Babylon's no more. Just a pile of stones. Everyone knows that."
"That's why I say it would do you good to go there. Just to see how little remains. By the way, bricks not stones."
"Very well Myrddin," I said wearily, "So you're not interested in Arthur's plans. You don't care if he rebuilds Bab- I mean Britain or not. It's all going to end up in the dust like Babylon. Only you have the greater wisdom. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me."
Myrddin smiled his expansive smile which showed how little his teeth had deteriorated on his travels. "I didn't say I wasn't interested in Arthur rebuilding Britain. What interests me more is how he's going to rebuild it. You only see it as a question of masons and flues. Apparently you can't imagine anything better than a revived Rome - though in Rome you once told me to forget the past. Do you remember? I suppose the Babylonians couldn't imagine anything better than Babylon in their day too." Myrddin got up and progressed around me. I already felt like hitting him with my crutch and we had only just met again. "So that's civilisation according to Cadfan. Buildings, officials, taxation, slaves doing the work. And every now and then it gets overthrown by savages but never mind because there are people like Cadfan who'll crawl from under the ruins when the storm's over and meticulously start to piece things together again - riding on the back of someone like Arthur."
My heart was fairly pounding with anger. Myrddin's words were so unfair. I turned to him and exploded. "Why do you speak like that? You know I'd never never ride on Arthur in such a way. Sometimes you're vile Myrddin. So destructive. We don't all live among the gods like you and your father. We have earthly ambitions. Human hopes and dreams. Aren't you able to share them sometimes?"
He came and sat close beside me and his voice, when he spoke, was gentle. "Little one, little one. Forgive me if I call you that since to me you're still that precocious boy I met on a ship going to the East - full of dreams, so anxious to know everything in the world, and so affectionate. I spoke as I did because I do have human feelings. I hope that Arthur will succeed in achieving his goals. Maybe with the help of faithful friends he will. Remember Cadfan, things are easily torn apart by the unexpected and sometimes too, by things we should expect but turn our backs on because we don't want to see them. You're like your Roman Virgil or even the Christians; you imagine it's possible to have a Kingdom of Heaven if this or that comes to pass. In your case, it's have faith in Arthur and the golden age of Saturn is returned. Can you be so sure?" Myrddin put his hand under my chin and made me look into his eyes. "The golden age that we envisaged as there, is already within us; for whatever is there, is here and whatever is here, the same is there. Arthur will never rebuild your golden past. He has no need to. Remember Lailoken's words: the hero light dwells within Arthur. That light will burn when all his earthly deeds are forgotten."
"Yes. I remember Lailoken prophesying," I said irritably. "In fact Myrddin, since he assured us all that even when Britain's betrayed, Arthur will be eternal, why should anyone worry? Your father's already fixed it. It's inevitable."
He looked away from me and muttered, "It's a mystery. Though the truth's known, we're never absolved from working for it." Again he probed me with those eyes of his. "Don't question a mystery Cadfan. That's for the Druid to do."
I stood up. "I'll question your mystery and anything else people call a mystery. Like your Indian rubbish. Oh yes, I've heard it all in Alexandria: up is down, here is there and your head's my arse. And I know you, compelling me with those eyes of yours, drowning me in the depths you create around me. And when I stretch out my arm and cry, help, save me, I don't know where I'm sinking to, you just say, don't worry, just accept. You're not dying, you're being born. But I'll not accept. I'll not be subject to your Druidical nonsense. And I'll not drown."
Myrddin got up smiling broadly. "Good, good, good, good, good," he said rapidly. "That's as it should be. You'll only need my wisdom when all else fails. Then you'll realise how valuable it is. Well now, shall I tell you about my travels? How I found the tomb of Jesus tucked away in the mountains north of India? Or about the holy men who seek to extinguish their souls - poof - like a candle? An unpleasant notion."
"Did you open up the tomb and look at the hands and the feet for evidence of the nails?" I asked.
"Of course not. The people there told me whose tomb it was."
"Typical of a stupid Briton to go ten thousand miles and forget what's most important. Tell me such tales some other time. And nothing of holy men - they should all go out like a candle. But I'd like to hear about India. Once when I was visiting Ezra's ships on the Sinus Arabicus I thought of going off there myself."
However, Myrddin's description of his travels has nothing to do with my story except insofar as he mentioned Jesus' tomb, that tedious topic first brought to my attention, you will remember, by Ezra. For the rest I cannot imagine that anyone, now or in time to come, could be interested in the travels of a Druid in the distant East - especially when the Library still has a number of works on those parts, though the content of some of them strains one's credulity.