Caradoc of the North Wind - By Allan Frewin Jones Page 0,38
back up to the hilt.
Eanfrid Hunwald raised his head and spoke in a loud, clear voice.
‘My lord Horsa Herewulf bids me speak these words to you.’ His voice boomed to the rafters. ‘Great King of Powys, you have fought with honour these past months, and you should have no shame that you have not done your duty to your realm. But ranged against you are forces so mighty that you cannot ever hope for a victory. All the lands to the east and to the north and to the south, is my lord Horsa Herewulf emptying, and into his great encampment at Chester are these men pouring in their multitudes. Surrender now to the mercy of King Oswald’s great general, and many lives will be spared. Continue in your obstinate refusal to acknowledge the overlordship of King Oswald, and General Herewulf will unleash his armies to flow as an unstoppable tide over your lands. If General Herewulf is forced to come across the borders in arms, be most certain, not a man will be left alive to tell the tale, not a woman will escape servitude, not a child shall live to see freedom again.’
Branwen’s eyes flickered across the gathered faces that surrounded the throne. There was anger and outrage in most faces, but trepidation in none. If Ironfist’s words were intended to intimidate, then they had failed. Apart from a hard gleam in the king’s eyes, Branwen could see no reaction from him.
‘Here’s our answer!’ shouted Angor, drawing his sword and taking a step forward. ‘To send you on your way without a head to your shoulders for your impudence!’
The king lifted a hand and Angor halted, his arm shaking with fury.
‘We are not barbarians, Captain,’ said Cynon. ‘We do not kill messengers because we like not the message they have been sent to deliver.’ He looked long and thoughtfully at the Saxon. ‘These are hard words,’ he said at last. ‘And we need time to consider them.’ He rose from the throne. ‘Take this man to where he can find food and drink. Keep close guard on him. He shall be called when our deliberations are done.’
Branwen turned, meaning to leave with the Saxon.
‘Branwen, stay awhile,’ said the king. ‘We desire your counsel. You alone have met General Ironfist face to face.’
Is that so? Then do you forget, my king, that Captain Angor has knelt at his foot and done his bidding in the past?
But Branwen was wise enough to hold back her thoughts – opening old wounds would do no good, and might do harm while the treaty between Llew and the king was so young and tender.
Dark looks followed Ironfist’s messenger as he was led at spear-point from the Hall.
‘Well now,’ said the king. ‘What are we to make of this?’
‘Nothing, my lord father, by your leave,’ said Drustan. ‘Only the bully seeks to cow an opponent with haughty words.’
‘It’s not the words themselves we should sift,’ said Llew, ‘but the thought behind them.’
‘We and the Saxons have beaten our heads together like stags these six months gone,’ said one of the king’s men. ‘Why does Ironfist choose this moment to threaten us so?’
‘Indeed,’ said the king. ‘That is my question also. Branwen? Have you any insights into Ironfist’s thinking?’
‘None beyond this,’ said Branwen, remembering what Iwan had said to her some days previously. ‘Ironfist was content to let us fight brother against brother while he stood by and watched. But if word of the marriage treaty has reached him, he may realize his time of standing aside is all but done.’
‘So he seeks to frighten us with fell words before setting his dogs loose on us?’ said Angor, and Branwen was quick to notice a hint of respect for her in his voice. ‘Goes this with the turn of his mind, girl?’
‘I think so,’ said Branwen.
‘Belike he has other motives for such threats,’ added Dagonet. ‘If all we have been told of the forces mustered outside Chester are true, then he must have an army of four or five thousand in camp. Men in such numbers need much feeding and watering, and many will have horses, too, that will need fodder. How will the town of Chester cope with such numbers? Ironfist’s army must be bleeding the town white, and this winter is a friend to us in so far as it has blocked the trade routes from the east and made the bringing of supplies from afar almost impossible.’