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Cade
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DAFYDD AND RHIANN HAD disappeared with the villagers down the trail that led west, and the fifty horse and one hundred foot that comprised Cade’s entire force had crossed the river—the Rhiw someone had called it—just south of Llanllugan. Now, alone, Cade urged Cadfan into the fast-running river which curved north and east of the village. It wasn’t a real ford, but the water was low enough for him to cross. It worried Cade that the Saxons would realize it too and flank his companions before they knew what was happening.
Cade had made sure that he was one of the men whose job it was to scout the lands east of the oncoming Saxon horde. Normally, he would have led the cohort with Rhun, but Geraint and Goronwy were fully capable, probably more so than Cade, since they were better with people than he was in his present incarnation. Cade left them to it. He had sent the other scouts in groups of two, but went alone himself. In truth, after his conversation with Rhiann, he couldn’t stand the thought of company.
She was right, of course, that he’d intended to scare her in the guardroom at Bryn y Castell. And he had. Granted, she’d hugged him just now, but only because he’d made her angry. He’d carefully kept his arms to his sides when she’d touched him because she had to know that he was a monster. I spin around so quickly she doesn’t even have time to flinch before I have her up against the far wall of the guardroom. My mouth comes down on hers ...
Cade came up out of the water on the southern bank, slowed, and then dismounted. The trees crowded close to the river on either side and Cade moved between them, cat-walking in the dark. The river ran north-south for a significant stretch at this location, before turning east to the point where it would eventually flow into the Severn. The silence of the wood descended on Cade and he tested the air for unseen currents. He stilled, opening himself up to the natural rhythms of the forest. Instantly, he sensed two men to his left. They were so obvious, a child would have noticed them, so untrained were they in the ways of the woods.
Unfortunately, the third man was a much better scout. Cade spun around just in time to prevent the Saxon from bringing his weapon down on Cade’s head. Cade twisted sideways to avoid him, releasing Cadfan’s reins and catching the man’s wrist in his right hand. At the same time, Cade covered the man’s mouth with his gloved left, preventing his scream. The Saxon released the axe. Cade caught it, the power pulsing through his fingers, and then realized the man wasn’t a man at all, which is why Cade hadn’t noted him sooner. Instead of killing him with his touch, which didn’t work on demons, Cade moved in, slitting the demon’s throat with the newly acquired axe. As the demon died, Cade dropped him to the rain-softened ground with a dull thud.
Cade moved towards the two, inattentive scouts who definitely were human. As always, the existence of the sidhe-creature within him sharpened his senses such that he could feel the hum of life under his feet and in the branches above his head, even if he no longer shared that life. The air stirred around him, bringing with it the scent of alcohol. The two lazy Saxons had overindulged in their celebratory feast after they’d sacked the few villages between Caer Forden and here.
The thought brought Cade up short. The Saxons were supposed to have come down the Roman road from Caersws, so how did two drunken scouts get to this spot? Leaving the men to their ineffective watch, as he could track them by their scent alone, Cade slid west to the river he’d just crossed. He stood on the bank and looked upstream, toward Llanllugan. To his dismay, shouts and splashing sounded in the distance, obvious now that he was listening for them.
By all that is holy, they’re already at Llanllugan!
Cade didn’t know how the enemy had gotten here so fast; didn’t know this area of Wales well, but at this point it didn’t matter. Without bothering with stealth or any attempt to disguise his movements, he ran back to where the two Saxons waited. Despite the obvious disadvantages of his affliction, he’d found over the past two years that there were a few benefits. The one that gave him the greatest advantage in any fight, in addition to his strength, was his ability to move faster than a human could see—or sense.
Even if he would have liked to take one of the men captive in order to question him, Cade didn’t want to waste time and didn’t speak Saxon anyway—another cause to regret his long separation from his mother, who could have taught it to him. The Saxons saw him burst from of the trees in front of them, but that didn’t mean they could do anything about his approach. They stared at him, rooted to the ground in their surprise. A moment later, Cade had a hand on each of them, ducking under their guard before they’d recovered enough from the shock of seeing a sidhe where there’d been nothing before.
Cade needed all his strength if they were going to defeat the Saxons and their demon allies. One man usually didn’t make that big of a difference in battle, except when he was that man. In his own mind, he’d not yet resolved the moral tension between killing a man with his sword and killing him by draining his life-force. It looked like he wasn’t going to figure that out tonight either.
Two quick kills later, he was on the move again. Cade rode Cadfan to the Roman road, and then raced south to where his men marched, heedless of anything but his need for haste. “They’re already at Llanllugan!” Cade said, as the two riders who brought up the rear came into view.
It was Rhun and Goronwy and they swung around to greet him. “My lord! What did you say?” Goronwy said.
“I ran into three scouts,” Cade said. “They were watching the river—poorly, I might add—as the southern guard of the Saxon advance. The Saxons are crossing the river at Llanllugan now!”
Goronwy gritted his teeth. “St. Aeren’s bollocks!”
“How many?” Rhun said.
“Hundreds,” Cade said.
“Rhiann and Dafydd! The villagers! Are they in their path?” Goronwy said.
“Yes.” Cade hated having to say it, thinking of Rhiann and her woman-sized bow as all that lay between the villagers and certain death.
The look on Goronwy’s face was as fierce an expression as Cade had ever seen. He made as if to spur his horse back to Llanllugan immediately, but Cade held out a hand to stop him. “Wait. We have fifty knights on horseback. If we ride as a group, we can cut through their advance. It may be that some of the Saxons have already reached the trail, but we can stop the bulk of their army together.”
Goronwy nodded and took in a deep breath. By now, Geraint had noticed them and ridden to the rear. Cade had hardly gotten the words out before Geraint and Rhun were reorienting the men to march back the way they’d come. The captain of the foot soldiers would normally have been Bedwyr, but he was at Caer Dathyl. His second, a man called Rhys, would lead them north. They would be a quarter of an hour behind the cavalry, and hopefully just in time to relieve riders when the press of Saxons threatened to overwhelm them.
Rhun was going to get his cavalry charge after all.
The men formed up. Cade pulled in beside Rhun. “I’ll take ten men east to flank them,” Cade said.
“Is there a trail there?” Rhun said.
Cade shook his head. “That’s why I want so few. If we work our way north from the far side of the river, we can come in behind them on the path they followed from Caer Forden.”
Rhun grunted. “Someone didn’t give us the full story.”
“Indeed. No time to worry about that now.” Cade raised his voice to reach above the murmur of the men. “Goronwy! You’re with me!”
In an instant, Goronwy was beside him. “My lord!”
“You and I will lead men east to attack the Saxons from the rear,” Cade said.
“But my lord!” Goronwy said. “I thought—”
“You thought we’d ride to rescue Dafydd and Rhiann?” Cade said. “Rhun will see to them.” Cade met Rhun’s eyes and he nodded. With a shout, Rhun and his forty men rode off into the dark. It was only a mile. They’d be there before Cade’s group had even left the road.
“Do you need more of an explanation?” Cade asked Goronwy.
Goronwy’s chin was like granite. “No, my lord.” He traced the path of the departing cavalry with his eyes. His anger was like a dark cloud, but Cade knew he was making the right choice.
“Emotion is a mistake in battle, Goronwy. More often than not, it gets people killed,” Cade said, deciding that explanation was more important than silence in this instance. A lord wasn’t required to explain his reasoning, but sometimes it was better to do so, especially to men such as Goronwy, with whom Cade was more or less equal. If Cade ascended the throne of Gwynedd, it would be because of men such as Goronwy.
“I know it,” Goronwy said, through gritted teeth. “I just don’t like it.” Cade granted him that, not happy about leaving Rhiann to Rhun either.
The horse’s hooves thundered along the stony road as Goronwy followed Cade, along with eight others, back towards Llanllugan. He then led them off the road and under the trees, skirting the place where he’d left the dead men. They headed north through the woods, keeping the river to their left.
After only a quarter of a mile, they approached the point where the Saxons were crossing the ford. Cade didn’t know that he’d ever heard so much shouting and revelry by any group of warriors in any battle. Their discipline was negligible, which was why most of them wouldn’t live to see the dawn.
Cade’s company came out of the trees and onto the road the Saxons had followed from Caer Forden a hundred yards east of the rear of the Saxon’s force. It was a Welsh track, not a Roman one, and thus narrower and comprised of packed earth, not stone. Most of the Saxons were already across the Rhiw and in heavy fighting with the cavalry led by Rhun and Geraint. Cade’s men would truly would surprise them.
“Form up,” Goronwy said, keeping his voice low, not that the Saxons would have heard him if he’d blasted a horn. “We’ll ride straight for the river crossing.”
The men obeyed him, moving into position. Before he took his place at the front of the line, Goronwy looked back at Cade, a questioning expression on his face.
“I’ll bring up the rear,” Cade said.
Goronwy nodded and urged his horse into a trot. Cade found himself beside a man-at-arms younger than he by the name of Hywel. A pungent scent of fear seeped from him and he swallowed hard.
“My lord,” Hywel said. “I heard a rumor that not every man here is a Saxon. That some are ...” he paused to swallow again.
“Demons?” Cade said. “Creatures of the Underworld? Undead warriors returned to stalk the living?”
“Yes,” he said. “Is it true?”
“It is,” Cade said, simply. “That’s why I’m riding with you. Stay close and don’t hesitate.”
“Yes, my lord.” Hywel shot another fearful glance at Cade, but then seemed to master himself. His heartbeat slowed. Now that they were on the road, the sky showed lighter, indicating the approaching dawn. Time always seemed to speed up when there was too much to do. At least the clouds had not dispersed so the dawn would not bring the sun with it. That was to Cade’s benefit, and to how many others?
Cade pulled his sword from his sheath. He hadn’t mentioned to anyone—particularly to Rhun or Taliesin—how the sword made him feel. While it felt right in his hand, at the same time it augmented his already considerable power and made it that much harder to control. The blade shone dully in the moonlight, giving no sign of what was happening inside him and it. Cade nodded at Hywel and Hywel pulled out his own sword. Its metal glinted, a match to Cade’s. The action seemed to give Hywel courage.
“Now!” Goronwy said.
The company raced to the river ford and into the rear of the Saxon army. Cade’s sword arm rose and fell as he hit one man and then another from behind. Soon the formation broke apart as the horses were slowed by the falling bodies, as well as those Saxons that turned and matched Cade’s men blow for blow. If not for the surcoats his men wore, it would have been impossible to tell one side from the other.
Cade felled a Saxon and then turned to kick a demon in the face as he approached, his axe held high. Cadfan reared, whinnying furiously, his front hooves pawing the air, inadvertently taking out yet another man. To Cade’s right, a man-at-arms fell into the river and was set upon by a fighter with a hideous mask for a face. Cade urged Cadfan towards them. Dropping his shield, he switched his sword from his right hand to his left and then swung it, severing the demon’s head from his body.
This last attack brought Cadfan through the bulk of the men on the bank so Cade turned the horse back to continue the fight. During the time it took to swing Cadfan around, Cade checked the progress of the battle across the river. Cade’s group had arrived at least a quarter of an hour after the cavalry and the chaos on the west bank was far worse than on the east. It looked as if all forty of Rhun’s cavalry had crashed through the line of Saxons, felling many, before turning to attack again. Cade didn’t see Geraint, although Rhun was unmistakable with his bulky body, high helmet, and feathered plume.
Along the road, following the cavalry, the line of foot soldiers came on fast. They no longer marched. The first ranks had broken into a run once they saw that the fight was in full swing. They held their spears and axes high and their mouths were open in that universal war cry that men shouted to give themselves courage.
As the foot soldiers hit the Saxon army from the side, what had survived of their formation broke completely apart. Unfortunately, the panic that ensued engulfed Cadfan, who reared again, this time dancing backwards. Cade clasped him around the neck, leaning forward to urge him to calm, but the stallion lost his footing in the mud and both he and Cade went down, with Cade slipping his feet from the stirrups before the horse crushed him into the bank.
Cade stumbled as he hit the ground and had to put his free hand into the mud to maintain his balance. Cadfan fell sideways, half-submerging his body in the river. Cade went waist deep into the water to grab his bridle and Cadfan struggled to his feet, thankfully not seriously hurt. Once upright, he burst away, out of the shallows, heading east up the road they’d just come down. Helpless to stop him, Cade watched him race past Saxon men fighting not only Welshmen but also each other, clawing and scrambling to see who could retreat faster from the western bank of the Rhiw.
They were fleeing Cade’s men, but more than that, they were fleeing their own demon allies, whom they’d enlisted—or more likely had enlisted them—for battle. A demon with three horns across his forehead and unholy, red eyes appeared in front of Cade. He swung a massive axe at Cade’s chest, which Cade met with his sword, a clang ringing out at the impact. The force of the blow unbalanced them both. The demon’s strength was incredible and to Cade’s dismay, he recovered as quickly as Cade himself.
Cade was far stronger than a normal man at any time, but when he allowed the creature within him to surface, when he truly unleashed that dreadful power, he had yet to find a being he could not defeat. Facing the demon across the muddy bank, Cade realized that regardless of who saw him, he needed that added strength if he was going to survive the battle. His sword was channeling power in a way Cade knew he could use, even if demons had no life force to drain. Before the demon pounced again, Cade allowed the full fury of the darkness within him to shine out, just as it had when he’d killed the Saxon in front of Rhiann. It was just as well that he no longer rode Cadfan. The urgency of Cade’s power was upon him, and even his horse might not have been safe from it.
Cade retreated up the bank, using the high ground against the demon. He countered the creature’s attack with controlled swings of his sword. Then, Cade sensed movement behind him and split his attention enough to check his back. Another demon was bearing down on him, this one carrying a pike. Before he could reach Cade, he impaled one of his own Saxon allies on the end of it (probably by mistake, but one could never tell with demons). Cade twisted out of his path, spinning around to his left in order to meet the first demon’s axe again, while the creature with a pike continued up the road and away from the battle.
Cade managed to hook the edge of the demon’s axe on the hilt of his sword, and took the opportunity to duck under his guard. He jolted the top of his head against the demon’s chin. The monster’s teeth snapped together as the force of the blow pushed him backwards into the water. He fell spread-eagled. Cade pounced on him, at last able to slide his sword across the demon’s neck, severing his head from his body.
No sooner had he pulled away, however, when another demon set upon him, and then a third. Cade fought and slashed and pushed his way back up the bank until he stood back to back with Hywel, who’d managed to survive the onslaught, despite being on foot. Like Cade, Hywel had lost his horse in the initial foray and had been fighting as well as any demon—although he wasn’t one—ever since.
Hywel was carrying himself with a single-minded intensity that was rare in a human. The fear Cade had sensed in him before was gone, replaced by simple sweat, and a blankness to his mind that told Cade that he saw nothing, felt nothing, but the sword in his hand and the enemies who died upon it.
Cade no longer had heartbeats to count, but he could count Hywel’s: one hundred, two hundred, two thousand passed and still they fought through the dawn, covered in blood and mud, twisting and turning as they hacked away at the men and demons who attacked them. Cade, his arms vibrating with the power of the sword, shoved his blade through the throat of a longhaired Saxon with a two-handed sword he was too tired to lift, and then turned as he sensed a horseman above him.
“Cadwaladr.”
Cade held his sword up, holding the newcomer at bay for another heartbeat before he registered that he was looking at a friend instead of a foe. It was Rhun. At last, Cade let his arms fall and bowed his head, feeling his strength ebbing away. Hywel fell to his knees, his sword buried point down in the mud. He pressed his face into the cross formed by the sword and hilt and sobbed, more from exhaustion than grief, though that would come soon enough.
Cade swayed and then straightened. “Is it over?”
“We’ve clean-up work still.”
Cade nodded. “I’ve lost Cadfan. He was alive, last I saw, but running east, away from battle.”
“I’ll find you a horse,” Rhun said. “We’ve some to spare.”
They shared a look, knowing that there were only horses to spare when the men who rode them had dismounted for the last time. “I’ll walk up the road and try to find him first. How many Saxons made it along the trail after the peasants?”
“Some,” Rhun said. “I don’t know their numbers.”
“So you haven’t seen Rhiann?” Cade said. “You sent someone after her, didn’t you?” Panic—instead of power—rose in him at the thought that he’d left her and Dafydd without support, before reason reasserted itself.
“I sent Geraint and a dozen men to her the instant we’d cleared the first line of Saxons,” Rhun said. “They’ve not yet returned.”
“I need you to go there now,” Cade said.
“Wouldn’t you rather ... see to her yourself?”
“Yes,” Cade said. “Of course I would, but it’s better that I don’t. I’ll come after I take care of things here.”
“Yes, my lord,” Rhun said, uncharacteristically giving Cade his title. Cade didn’t know what to make of that, except that perhaps it was a commentary on the distance Cade’s inhumanness placed between them at times like these. Rhun turned and spurred his horse back across the river toward the trail that Rhiann and the villagers had taken. Cade watched him go, feeling in his mind for some sense of grief or despair, but finding none. She’s well. I know it. Oh Christ, she has to be.
Cade faced the carnage at his feet. Dead men littered the bank, along with severed limbs, horses, and lifeblood. He looked across the river to the larger battlefield. Strewn across the ground were a hundred dead and half-dead Saxons. Fewer Welshman lay among them, but still too many. It was awful, as always. Cade put a hand on Hywel’s shoulder, squeezed once, and let go. Hywel had stopped crying and now levered himself to his feet.
“You wielded your sword like King Arthur himself,” Cade said.
“It was your example that gave me the will to fight,” Hywel said. “You fought with the strength of ten men.”
Because I have the strength of ten men. Not that I feel it at the moment. The growing daylight, coupled with the long battle had left Cade weaker than he liked. I’ve killed so many already, what’s a few more? With a nod at Hywel, which he returned, Cade faced away from the river and headed into the woods. Many frightened Saxons had retreated there. He would find all that he needed in the darkness among the trees.
