Arthur, King. William Speir

him.”

      Chapter 7

      Ambrosius’ engineers quickly took charge of organizing squads of men to cut timbers from the nearby forest. Horses were used to haul the timbers to the engineers’ camp, where the scaling ladders and catapults were being built.

      Uther had never seen a catapult before. He had seen drawings of them left behind by the Roman Legions when they abandoned Britain, but until now, catapults hadn’t been considered useful. They were unwieldy to transport, making them ineffective in the skirmishes and battles against Britain’s invaders; they were best used against fixed fortifications – something that the armies of Britain had never needed before.

      The northern armies arrived at Dinas Emrys before nightfall and reinforced the southern armies, which had the hill completely encircled. Uther went to find his captains as soon as the men from Gododdin were assigned to their camp.

      Uther was pleased that Gododdin’s losses were light, but he grieved when he learned that all three of Merlin’s sons had been killed.

      “The dead have been buried, Lord Uther,” his cavalry captain informed him. “Their personal items have been retrieved and will be returned to Gododdin. The wounded who could be moved were taken to Carn Fadrun. Lord Ceretic’s healers are tending to them, so our healers can help here with the siege.”

      “Are the graves marked?” Uther asked.

      “Only by kingdom, my Lord.”

      Uther nodded. How do I tell Merlin about his sons? How can he find their graves to say good-bye?

      Construction of the scaling ladders went quickly, but it took much longer to build the catapults. Squads of cavalry were sent to find boulders to hurl at the hillfort. Most were so heavy that only the horses could drag them back to the engineers’ camp.

      The engineers also had teams of men dig around the area to find clay. Makeshift kilns were set up, and soon the engineers were baking clay pots.

      “What are the pots for?” Nudd-Lludd asked as Ambrosius showed the kings what the engineers were doing.

      “Rocks are effective against the walls and gates, but there are other ways to deal with the defenders inside the walls,” Ambrosius replied. “Pots filled with poisons can be flung over the walls. They shatter on impact, releasing poison into the water and food supplies. The pots can also be filled with pitch and set on fire. When they break, the fire spreads everywhere. These are tricks that the Romans used, and they will still work today.”

      Ambrosius knew better than to assault the hillfort directly. Archers along the walls rained down arrows whenever any of his men got too close to the base of the hill. Ambrosius’ archers were too exposed to enemy arrows for them to be useful in any daylight attack. The hillfort could only be assaulted at night, and the loss of life would be very high. Vortigern had chosen Dinas Emrys well as his refuge.

      A line of storms moved across Gwynedd as the siege entered its second week. The ground was wet, making it difficult to light fires to keep the men warm and dry. Clouds blanketed the sky, blocking out the sun and the moon. The darkness at night was impenetrable. The storms lasted for three days, turning the camps into a muddy mess, but the sky cleared around midnight on the fourth day.

      Two hours before dawn on the fifth day, Ambrosius walked along the perimeter of Dinas Emrys in the darkness. The hillfort had been besieged for nearly two weeks, but Ambrosius’ forces had not yet directly engaged Vortigern’s defenders.

      It’s taking too long to finish the catapults. If we don’t attack soon, Vortigern’s allies might arrive to reinforce him. Only Rheged stands between us and Hengist, Horsa, and Colgrin. Lord Gwrast can’t stop them if they invade in large numbers. I need to make an end of this.

      Uther, Ogrfan of Ergyng, Arthwys of Ebrauc, Budic of Brittany, and Gerren of Dumnonia walked with Ambrosius, confident that Vortigern’s archers couldn’t see them. In the pre-dawn stillness, he saw the outline of the hillfort above – silhouetted by the torches and fires inside its walls. But as Uther looked up, the silhouette vanished. A moment later, Uther heard a familiar whistling sound.

      “Archers!” he cried.

      Uther heard the arrows hitting the soft ground all around them. He ran forward and grabbed Ambrosius and Ogrfan, pushing them back away from the hill. They had almost reached a safe distance from the hillfort when Uther stumbled. He pitched forward and felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. Darkness took him.

      Ambrosius’ guards, hearing Uther’s shout of “archers,” raced forward and pulled Ambrosius, Arthwys, Gerren, and Ogrfan to safety.

      Vortigern’s archers had started shooting to create confusion and hide Vortigern’s true intentions. They had no idea that Ambrosius and the other kings were there – their goal was to kill any sentries that might raise the alarm.

      His forces left the hillfort and quietly raced down the causeway. Vortigern knew that the catapults were almost completed, and once they were, the walls of his hillfort would be reduced to rubble. He ordered his men to attack the engineers’ camp. They were to kill the engineers and destroy the catapults under the cover of darkness.

      However, he didn’t anticipate that Ambrosius’ camps would be so heavily guarded. His forces ran into sentries, who raised the alarm. Galerius’ soldiers were camped directly between the hillfort and the engineers’ camp. Unable to see where the enemy was, they formed ranks shoulder to shoulder to build a wall that Vortigern’s men couldn’t break through. Many of Vortigern’s men were killed, and they were forced to retreat to the hillfort without having reached the engineers’ camp.

      As dawn approached, Galerius managed to get torches lit. He set out to find Ambrosius and report to him about the night raid.

      “What happened to you, my King?” Galerius asked when noticed an arrow hole in the High King’s cloak.

      Ambrosius pointed to the place where he stood when the arrows started falling. “Vortigern’s archers fired on us. Uther pushed Ogrfan and me back to safety.”

      Looking around, Ambrosius asked, “Where is Uther?”

      Galerius raised his torch and saw someone lying face down on the ground where Ambrosius had been pointing. He recognized Uther’s cloak. Gesturing toward the body, Galerius said, “My King… Uther…”

      Ambrosius turned and saw Uther’s body. Galerius ran forward to see if Uther were still alive. An arrow had missed Uther’s helmet and pierced the base of his neck, severing his spine and killing him instantly.

      “He’s dead, my King,” Galerius said. The expression on his face was one of deep sadness.

      “He died saving my life.” Ambrosius knelt. “His first thought was for my safety.”

      Ambrosius was silent for a moment. “He has a son, doesn’t he?”

      “Prince Arthur, my King,” Arthwys replied. “The lad is five.”

      “Lord Uther’s sacrifice must be repaid. Gododdin will know that I honor my debts.”

      Ambrosius noticed another body lying a short distance behind Uther’s. Two arrows had hit the man in the back. When Galerius turned the body over, Ambrosius recognized the face immediately.

      “King Budic!”

      Galerius looked up at his king. “I’ll have men take these bodies to Carn Fadrun so they can be returned to their kingdoms, my King.”

      Ambrosius nodded. As the sky grew lighter, the torches were no longer needed. Ambrosius looked up at the hillfort and saw Vortigern’s men mocking him and laughing at the dead. Vortigern himself waved at Ambrosius in an act of defiance.

      Ambrosius’ grief turned to rage. He turned away and stormed back to his camp. “Summon the kings and generals immediately!”

      “It’s