But no God came, nor did any man come from Magnis. We later learned that some volunteers had set out, but they arrived too late.
Powys’s levy stayed on the hill, too scared to cross the ghost-fence, while beside them were gathered more than a hundred Irish warriors. Those men began to walk south, aiming to walk around the fence’s vengeful ghosts. In a half-hour, I thought, those Blackshield Irish would be joining Cuneglas’s final attack and so I went to Nimue. “Swim the river,” I urged her. “You can swim, can’t you?”
She held up her left hand with its scar. “You die here, Derfel,” she said, ‘then I die here.”
“You must’
“Hold your tongue,” she said, ‘that’s what you must do,” and then stood on tiptoe and kissed me on the mouth. “Kill Gundleus for me before you die,” she pleaded.
One of our spearmen began singing the Death Song of Werlinna and the rest of them took up the slow, sad melody. Cavan, his cloak blackened by blood, was hammering the socket of his spearhead with a stone, trying to tighten the shaft’s fit. “I never thought it would come to this,” I said to him.
“Nor me, Lord,” he said, looking up from his work. His wolf-tail plume was bloodsoaked too, his helmet dented and there was a rag bandaged about his left thigh.
“I thought I was lucky,” I said. “I always thought that, but perhaps every man does.”
“Not every man, Lord, no, but the best leaders do.”
I smiled my thanks. “I would have liked to have seen Arthur’s dream come true,” I said.
“There’d be no work for warriors if it did,” Cavan said dourly. “We’d all be clerks or farmers. Maybe it’s better this way. One last fight, then down to the Otherworld and into Mithras’s service. We’ll have a good time there, Lord. Plump women, good fighting, strong mead and rich gold for ever.”
“I shall be glad of your company there,” I told him, but in ” truth I was utterly bereft of joy. I did not want to go to the Otherworld yet, not while Ceinwyn still lived in this one. I pressed the armour at my chest to feel her small brooch and I thought of the madness that would never now run its course. I said her name aloud, puzzling Cavan. I was in love, but I would die without ever holding my love’s hand or seeing her face again.
Then I was forced to forget Ceinwyn for the Blackshield Irish of Demetia, instead of walking around the fence, had decided to risk the ghosts and cross it. Then I saw why. A Druid had appeared on the hill to lead them through the spirit line. Nimue came to stand beside me and stared up the hill to where the tall, white-cowled and white-robed figure strode long-legged down the steep slope. The Irish followed him, and behind their black shields and long spears came Powys’s levy with its mixed weaponry of bows, mattocks, axes, spears, single-sticks and hayforks.
My men’s singing faded away. They hefted spears and touched their shield-edges on each other to make sure the wall was tight. The enemy, who had been readying their own shield-wall to attack ours, now turned to watch as the Druid brought the Irish down to the valley. lorweth and Tanaburs ran to meet him, but the newly come Druid waved his long staff to order them out of his path and then he pushed his robe’s hood back and we saw the long, plaited white beard and the swinging pigtail of his black-wrapped hair. It was Merlin.
Nimue cried when she saw Merlin, then she ran towards him. The enemy moved aside to let her pass, just as they parted to let Merlin walk towards her. Even on a battlefield a Druid could walk wherever he wanted, and this Druid was the most famed and powerful in all the land. Nimue ran and Merlin spread his arms to welcome her and she was still sobbing as at last she found him again and threw her thin white arms around his body. And suddenly I was glad for her.