Arthur, King. William Speir

of our greatest allies. Budic and Uther deserved better than to be taken from us by a coward’s arrow in the night. Uther’s warning saved me, as well as Lords Ogrfan, Arthwys, and Gerren. His sacrifice will be avenged.”

      Ambrosius outlined his plan. The assembled kings and general quickly agreed. Ambrosius’ chief engineer promised that everything would be ready.

      After the kings had left to return to their armies, Ambrosius approached Budic’s son, who was also named Budic. “I’m sorry about your father, Budic. He was a close friend and ally, and I’ll miss him. You have my full support, and if you and your kingdom ever need me, you have only to ask.”

      “Thank, you, King Ambrosius. My father thought of you as a brother. I’d like to do the same.”

      Ambrosius held out his hand, and Budic grasped Ambrosius’ forearm. “So would I, King Budic.”

      Teams of horses moved the catapults into position around the hillfort. The horses also dragged the boulders into piles next to each of the catapults. Wooden devices used to lift the boulders onto the catapults were pushed into position. Engineers and soldiers manned the catapults, waiting for Ambrosius to give the order to fire.

      By mid-afternoon, the catapults were in place and ready. The engineers began twisting the bundles of ropes that powered each catapult’s swing-arm. The creaking from the twisting ropes against the new wood was heard all around Dinas Emrys. Vortigern’s defenders stood along the hillfort’s walls, watching the engineers work and waiting for the catapult barrage to begin.

      The first boulders were set in place. Ambrosius gave the order to fire, and the engineers released the tension from the catapults’ ropes. The swing-arms snapped forward, releasing their projectiles at the hillfort.

      A moment later, part of the hillfort’s main gates shattered from the impact. A guard tower and part of the northern wall were also damaged. Vortigern’s defenders fled from the walls as the catapults were reloaded.

      For the next several hours, boulders slammed into the hillfort’s walls, smashing timbers and loosening the earthworks that protected the hillfort’s foundations. Shortly before sunset, the clay pots filled with pitch were distributed to each of the catapults. Archers from each of the armies moved forward to ring the hillfort, staying just out of range of Vortigern’s archers.

      As the sun set and darkness covered the plains, the catapults stopped firing. But the creaking of the ropes being tightened could still be heard. The sound sent chills down the spines of Vortigern’s defenders.

      Vortigern stood on a section of undamaged wall, looking down at Ambrosius’ armies. He heard the sounds made by the catapults being readied, but he couldn’t understand why they’d be fired at night.

      “Look there, my King,” one of his captains said, pointing to the base of the hill.

      Vortigern saw what looked like tiny torches being lit in a circle around the hill. It took a moment for his mind to register what it was.

      He gasped. “Flaming arrows. They plan to burn us!”

      “The wood’s too wet from the storms,” the captain protested.

      “Not if they’re using pitch-soaked rags,” Vortigern stated.

      A large crashing sound startled Vortigern.

      “What was that?” he demanded.

      Another crashing sound came from just below him. A black, sticky liquid sprayed up and covered his arm. He smelled it.

      “Pitch! They’re using the catapults to cover the fort in pitch so the arrows will catch everything on fire.”

      Vortigern turned and climbed down off the walls. “Start gathering water. The entire fort will be on fire in a few moments!”

      A clay pot burst at the base of the great house where Rowenna waited for her husband. He heard other pots crashing all around, hitting the barracks, the kitchens, and the storehouses. Men ran screaming as pitch covered them. The hillfort was in chaos.

      Ambrosius gave the order to his archers. Hundreds of flaming arrows lit the night sky and landed around and inside the hillfort. The catapults continued sending pots of pitch into the air.

      Parts of the fort began to burn. The gates, which were the only way out of the hillfort, were covered in fire. Flames from buildings inside the hillfort rose above the walls. The screams of Vortigern’s defenders were heard over the crackling of the flames and the crashing of the clay pots.

      Ambrosius never took his eyes off the hillfort burning out of control. His archers continued firing; they had orders to make sure that no one escaped Dinas Emrys.

      High above the walls of the hillfort, the red dragon standard of Vortigern caught fire and burned. Ambrosius’ expression never changed as he watched the inferno reduce the hillfort to ashes, along with everyone who was inside it.

      By the time the sun rose the next morning, only parts of the earthworks remained intact. The rest of the once-mighty hillfort was a mass of burned timbers, smoldering cinders, and scorched ground. Search parties were sent to look for survivors. There were none. Vortigern, Rowenna his queen, their son, and his defenders had perished in the night. The red dragon had fallen. Ambrosius, the gold dragon of the south, was now the undisputed High King of Britain.

      King Brychan of Brycheiniog and King Cadell of Powys arrived the next morning with a small escort. Ambrosius received them warmly. Both kings swore oaths of loyalty to the new High King, and Ambrosius pardoned them for their actions in support of Vortigern.

      Ambrosius ordered his engineers to burn the catapults. They were too heavy to drag through the Welsh foothills and too valuable to leave behind in a kingdom that was no friend of the High King’s.

      Most of the kings returned home with their armies two days after the destruction of the hillfort. King Budic took his father’s body home to Brittany for burial. The northern armies accompanied Ambrosius to Carn Fadrun to retrieve their wounded.

      When Ambrosius arrived at Vortigern’s fortress, he found King Ceretic kneeling next to Uther’s body, which was covered by Uther’s war cloak. Uther’s sword lay on his chest. Ambrosius knelt next to him.

      “He was my closest friend and ally, my King,” Ceretic said once he recognized Ambrosius. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep the northern borders secured without him.”

      Ambrosius nodded. “He died saving my life from one of Vortigern’s archers. That’s a debt that must be repaid. I’ll help you and young Prince Arthur secure your northern borders.”

      “Thank you, my King,” Ceretic said.

      Ceretic also swore an oath of loyalty to the High King. He had taken no action against Ambrosius, so there was no need to pardon him.

      Ambrosius met with Vortigern’s nephew, Ynyr, for several hours. Ynyr had no love for Ambrosius, and even though he swore an oath of loyalty in return for Ambrosius recognizing his claim to the kingdom of Gwynedd, Ambrosius doubted Ynyr’s sincerity.

      Ambrosius decided to leave several companies of his own soldiers behind in Gwynedd, because the kingdom no longer had an army to defend itself. The soldiers answered to Ambrosius, and Ynyr understood that the soldiers were there primarily to prevent further acts of rebellion while helping defend his kingdom from invasion.

      After resting at Carn Fadrun for three days, Ambrosius sent the bulk of his army south, but kept three hundred cavalry and five hundred foot soldiers with him to serve as an escort for Uther’s body. Galerius would also accompany him. Ambrosius had a new assignment for his general in the north.

      “I’m going to escort Uther’s body back to Gododdin,” he told Nudd-Lludd and Arthwys. “And I’d like to visit Ebrauc and Bryneich on the way north.”

      “We’d be honored to have you with us, my King,” Nudd-Lludd said.

      Ambrosius nodded. And once I’m done in Gododdin,