Ambrosius found Uther walking alone along the western walls of the fortress. Ambrosius had just finished speaking with Mor and Nudd-Lludd, but now he wanted to have a conversation with the lord of the kingdom farthest away from his own.
“Greetings, Lord Uther,” he said as he approached. “May I join you?”
Uther smiled and gestured for Ambrosius to walk with him. “Of course, Lord Ambrosius. It’s been a long time since we last spoke privately. How have you been?”
“Up to my shoulders in Saxons, as usual,” Ambrosius replied. “My lands border those of Hengist and Horsa, so I feel the tip of the spear more acutely than anyone else.”
“Mor is beginning to feel the same way, thanks to Colgrin occupying the eastern part of his kingdom,” Uther noted.
Ambrosius nodded. “I was just talking with Mor about that. Colgrin could potentially split Britain in half. You’d be caught between his Anglians and the Picts and Caledonians to the north, and I’d be caught between him and Hengist and Horsa’s Saxons to the south. Britain as we know it would cease to exist, and the survivors would be under Saxon and Anglian rule for generations. We need a united north to prevent this from happening.”
“I don’t think we have a united north, Lord Ambrosius. You saw Gwrast and Ceretic leave the hall with Vortigern, didn’t you? The kings of Rheged and Strathclyde are against you. Ceretic controls the northwestern border, and Gwrast holds all of central Britain. If the Council votes to replace Vortigern as High King, and the kingdoms of Rheged and Strathclyde decide to rebel against the Council’s wishes, then the kingdoms of Ebrauc, Bryneich, and Gododdin will be cut off from the rest of Britain. We won’t be able to come to the aid of the new High King, and the new High King won’t be able to come to our aid either. It’s exactly what Colgrin, Hengist, and Horsa want.”
Ambrosius nodded. “What’s to be done?”
“The new High King must restore unity between the kingdoms of Britain before Colgrin, Hengist, or Horsa can move against us,” Uther replied. “The fighting between the kingdoms must not reduce our fighting strength in case of invasion. Our enemies will watch for any chance to exploit our squabbling.”
“But how can there be unity if any of the kings reject the Council’s decision?” Ambrosius asked.
Uther stroked his beard as he regarded at Ambrosius. “It won’t be easy. The new High King will have to pledge to come to the aid of any kingdom that requests it, even if that kingdom has openly rebelled against him. The new High King must rise above any opposition. He must lead by example and inspire unity through his actions. His commitment to be the High King for all of Britain will help restore any unity that’s lost by his election.”
Ambrosius nodded and stopped walking. “Lord Uther, will you give your support to me to be the next High King?”
Uther turned and stared at him for a moment. “Yes, Lord Ambrosius. I believe that you’re the best choice to lead us against our enemies, and you have my support. But remember, the High King must unite us in peace, not just in war.”
“I’ll remember,” Ambrosius assured him. Smiling, he added, “You don’t think I’m too young?”
Uther shook his head. “I’m only a few years older than you are, but you’ve won more battles than I have. That’s an important quality for the next High King.”
Ambrosius grasped Uther’s forearm. “Thank you, my friend!”
The Council reconvened in the afternoon. Ogrfan provided plenty of food and drink, and the kings seemed to be in a better mood. Vortigern continued watching Ambrosius, as if he expected the Overlord of the Roman Kingdoms to challenge him to single combat for the High Kingship.
The afternoon discussions were less contentious than the morning debate had been. Each king stood and spoke on the issue of who should be High King and why. When it was Uther’s turn, he rose and addressed the Council.
“My friends, we are beset by enemies on all sides. The Picts and Caledonians are lined up upon our northern borders. The Irish attack our western shores and have seized territories from Strathclyde down to southern Wales. The Anglians hold most of eastern Ebrauc, and the Saxons control our southeastern coast. This is not the time to be fighting among ourselves. With so many knives poised at our necks, we need a High King who will lead our armies to victory against our enemies.”
Uther turned to the man sitting the end of the table. “King Vortigern, you led our armies well for many years, but your policy of using Saxon mercenaries to help you defend Britain against the Irish, Picts, and Caledonians has been a disaster for all of us. That should have been obvious on the Night of the Long Knives, when Hengist slaughtered our leaders while they attended his peace conference. Your continued poor judgment regarding the Saxons and their allies has brought us to the brink of ruin, and your decision to marry Hengist’s daughter is a clear indication that you’re no longer fit to lead us against the forces of the man that you now call father. I vote that you be removed as High King and that Lord Ambrosius be named High King instead.”
Uther sat down. Glancing to his left, he saw Mor and Nudd-Lludd nodding silently. Ambrosius, sitting across the table from Vortigern, smiled. Glancing to his right, Uther noticed that Gwrast and Ceretic glared at him angrily.
When it was their turn to speak, both Gwrast and Ceretic spoke in support of Vortigern, as did Brychan of Brycheiniog and Cadell of Powys.
Ambrosius stood and addressed the Council. “I know that there are many of you who would prefer that Vortigern remain our High King. Believe it or not, I am one of them.”
Ambrosius pointed to Vortigern. “But only if King Vortigern acts like the High King of Britain and not the ally of the Saxons who threaten our very existence! If he’s unable or unwilling to push the Saxons and their allies back across the channel forever, then he’s no longer our High King. He must be deposed for the good of Britain, and for the good of each of our kingdoms. I vote that he be stripped of the High Kingship. Choose who you will to replace him. But know this. If you elect me as your next High King, I, and my armies, will come to your aid when you call for it, no matter whether you support me as High King or not. I won’t hold your vote against you, nor will I hold your opposition to me against you. The High King is High King of all of Britain, not just the kingdoms that he likes or chooses. That is my vow to you all.”
Ambrosius sat. Most of the kings nodded in approval. Vortigern just glared. He was the only one who hadn’t yet spoken. He rose slowly and looked around the table.
“Kings of Britain, you elected me as High King. Nowhere is it written that you can change your minds. None of you stood up for me when my son, Vortimer, usurped the High Kingship. But then none of you objected when the High Kingship returned to me upon Vortimer’s death at the hands of my challenger. I am High King, and I’ll remain High King until I die. I don’t recognize this Council’s authority to depose me, and if you attempt to do so, it’ll mean war between us. I’ll defend my crown, and my allies will rally to my banner and stand with me against you.”
Ambrosius jumped to his feet. “You’d use the Saxons against your own people to retain the High Kingship?!”
“I’ll use whatever methods I see fit, as is my right as High King,” Vortigern replied.
Ambrosius looked around the table. “There can no longer be any doubt of your treason, Lord Vortigern. No High King can serve the kingdoms of Britain while threatening to unleash the Saxons and their allies against us. If you defy the Council and force us into war against you, I’ll lead my armies across Britain, and I’ll destroy you and your allies.”
The kings who supported Ambrosius rose and gathered behind him at the end of the table: Nudd-Lludd of Bryneich, Gerren of Dumnonia, Triffyn of Dyfed, Cynyr of Gwent. Ogrfan of Ergyng, Mor of Ebrauc,