“Don’t knock the plume off,” I said. Secretly I was wishing I had never accepted the heavy armour. It was horseman’s gear, designed to add weight and awe to a mounted man who had to batter his way through the enemy’s ranks, but we spearmen depended on agility and quickness when we were not locked shoulder to shoulder in the shield-wall.
“But you look wonderful, Lord,” Issa told me admiringly.
“I’ll be a wonderful-looking corpse if you don’t guard my flank,” I told him. “It’s like fighting inside a bucket.” I tugged the helmet off, relieved when its constricting pressure was gone from my skull. “When I first saw this armour,” I told Issa, “I wanted it more than anything in the world. Now I’d give it away for a decent leather breastplate.”
“You’ll be all right, Lord,” he told me with a grin.
We had work to do. The women and children abandoned by Valerin’s defeated men had to be driven south away from the vale, then we prepared de fences close to the remnants of the tree fence. Sagramor feared that the overwhelming weight of the enemy could drive us clear out of the vale before Arthur’s horsemen arrived to our rescue and so he prepared the ground as best he could. My men wanted to sleep, but instead we dug a shallow ditch across the vale. The ditch was nowhere near deep enough to stop a man, but it would force the attacking spearmen to break step and maybe stumble as they closed on our spear-line. The tree barricade lay just behind the ditch and marked the southern limit to which we could retreat and the place we must defend to the death. Sagramor anchored the felled trees with some of Valerin’s abandoned spears that he ordered driven deep into the earth to make a hedge of angled spear-points inside the pine branches. We left the gap where the road ran through the centre of the fence so we could retreat behind the fragile barrier before we defended it.
My worry was the steep and open hillside down which my men had attacked in the dawn. Gorfyddyd’s warriors would doubtless attack straight up the vale, but his levies would probably be sent to the high ground to threaten our left flank and Sagramor could spare no men to hold that high ground, but Nimue insisted there was no need. She took ten of the captured spears and then, with the help of a half-dozen of my men, she cut the heads from ten of Valerin’s dead spearmen and carried the spears and bloody heads up the hill where she had the spear-shafts driven butt-first into the ground, then she rammed the bloody heads on to the spears’ iron points and draped the dead heads with ghastly wigs of knotted grass, each knot an enchantment, before scattering branches of yew between the widely spaced posts. She had made a ghost-fence: a line of human scarecrows imbued with charms and spells that no man would dare pass without a Druid’s help. Sagramor wanted her to make another such fence on the ground north of the ford, but
Nimue refused. “Their warriors will come with Druids,” she explained, ‘and a ghost-fence is laughable to a Druid. But the levy won’t have a Druid.” She had fetched an armful of vervain down from the hill and now she distributed its small purple flowers among the spearmen who all knew that vervain gave protection in battle. She pushed a whole sprig inside my armour.
The Christians gathered to say their prayers, while we pagans sought the Gods’ help. Men tossed coins into the river, then brought out their talismans for Nimue to touch. Most carried a hare’s foot, but some brought her elf bolts or snake stones. Elf bolts were tiny flint arrowheads shot by the spirits and much prized by soldiers, while snake stones had bright colours that Nimue enriched by dipping the stones in the river before touching them to her good eye. I pressed the scale armour until I could feel Ceinwyn’s brooch pricking against my chest, then I knelt and kissed the earth. I kept my forehead on the damp ground as I beseeched Mithras to give me strength, courage and, if it was His will, a good death. Some of our men were drinking the mead we had discovered in the village, but I drank nothing but water. We ate the food Valerin’s men had thought would be their breakfast, and afterwards a group of spearmen helped Nimue catch toads and shrews that she killed and placed on the road beyond the ford to give the approaching enemy ill omens. Then we sharpened our weapons again and waited. Sagramor had found a man hiding in the woods behind the village. The man was a shepherd and Sagramor questioned him about the local countryside and learned there was a second ford upstream where the enemy could outflank us if we tried to defend the river bank at the vale’s northern end. The second ford’s existence did not trouble us now, but we needed to remember that it existed for it gave the enemy a way of outflanking our northernmost defence line.