Chapter 1
Uther’s horse raced along the road to Din Eidyn. The snow had stopped falling hours earlier, and the full moon peered through the clouds, bathing the white landscape in blueish light. The wind and the crunching of the snow beneath his horse’s hooves were the only sounds he heard, apart from his own gasps as he inhaled the icy air. Steam billowed from the horse’s nostrils as it labored to carry its rider to the hillfort that served as Uther’s main fortress.
Tonight of all nights! It wasn’t supposed to happen for at least another week.
Uther glanced back at his standard-bearer and his escorts, who were desperately trying to keep up with their king. His standard, the gold boar on a field of dark blue, snapped straight back as the horses raced for home.
She said it wouldn’t happen until after the new year. It’s Christmas Eve! I promised her that I’d be back in time.
Uther leaned forward, and his horse understood. The horse shook its head slightly, acknowledging the silent order, and increased speed. It seemed to know that its rider had somewhere to be that night.
It was December 24th in the year 464 AD. King Uther, the lord of Gododdin in the northeast corner of Britain, had been meeting for several days with the High King, Vortigern, and the other northern kings to discuss plans for strengthening Britain’s defenses against the Picts and Caledonians. The meetings had ended several days earlier, and Uther had anticipated being home by mid-day on Christmas. He was half-way back to Gododdin when the messenger from his wife, Queen Ygerna, intercepted him.
The message was simple and urgent. “It’s time.”
Uther’s heart began racing. His closest friend and advisor, Merlinus Emrys, or Merlin as he preferred to be called, immediately drew his horse up next to his king.
“What is it, my Lord?” Merlin asked.
Uther relayed the message. “I’m riding for Din Eidyn, immediately, Merlin. You and the others follow as quickly as you can.”
“Of course, Uther,” Merlin promised.
Uther pressed his heels into the sides of his horse, and it took off at a gallop. His escorts followed close behind.
Uther glanced back at his standard-bearer and his escorts again. Six escorts had followed him when he left the rest of the men who had accompanied him to King Vortigern’s Council meetings, but Uther noticed that only three had managed to keep up with him.
I can’t be late. Not for this.
Uther reached the crest of a great ridge and saw Din Eidyn across the valley. Torches all along the wall illuminated the hillfort overlooking the village, but its beacon remained dark.
I’m not too late. There’s still time.
His chest pounded as he rode through the deserted streets to the causeway that led up to the hillfort’s gates. The guards immediately recognized their king’s standard and flung open the gates for him. Uther rode through without saying a word.
When he reached the hillfort’s great house, he dismounted and tossed the reins to a groom. He ran up the steps two at a time, pushed open the great oak door, and entered the house that he shared with the love of his life.
“Ygerna! I’m here, my darling!”
He deposited his riding cloak and sword belt into the arms of the servant who ran to the door to greet him.
Uther headed for the great hall. “Any word yet?”
“No, my Lord,” the servant replied, following Uther as fast as he could while trying not to drop the cloak or the sword.
Uther hurried across the great hall; the thumping of his boots against the flagstone tiles echoed loudly. The corridor beyond led to the private apartments that he shared with his queen. As he reached the door to the apartment, it opened. Silhouetted against the candlelight was Lucilia, one of Ygerna’s midwives.
“My Lord,” she intoned softly. “You’re just in time.”
He followed her into the apartment. Lit candles were everywhere, giving off a golden glow. When he reached the bedchamber, Ygerna was there, surrounded by midwives and other servants who were required by law to witness the birth of a future King of Gododdin. She looked like she was in pain.
“I’m here, my love,” he said as he approached the bed.
Ygerna nodded. Then she grimaced and let out a yell that sounded like she was being stabbed by an unseen enemy.
“It’s coming now,” Lucilia said, pushing past Uther.
Uther stepped out of the way. He had never seen a woman giving birth before; Ygerna had never carried a child for this long. She had suffered four miscarriages while he was away fighting the Picts, Irish, Saxons, and Anglians who constantly invaded Britain. When she found herself pregnant again, he promised that he’d be with her when it was time for the baby to be born.
I kept my promise. I made it back in time.
The midwives and servants blocked his view. Uther wanted to be next to his wife, holding her, but he knew that he needed to let the midwives do their work.
Ygerna let out another yell, followed by a deep groaning.
Oh, my darling. You’ve come so far. Just a little farther, and the baby that we’ve wanted for so long will finally be here.
Ygerna groaned again, sending the midwives scurrying. Agonizing moments passed. Ygerna’s breathing became deeper between spasms of pain. She groaned and yelled loudly as if in unimaginable agony. Then there was silence.
“Ygerna…?” Uther asked.
He heard a crying, but it wasn’t his wife. The midwives stepped away from the bed. Lucilia beamed as she gestured for Uther to come forward.
Uther stood next to the bed. Lying beside Ygerna, wrapped in a blanket that she had been waiting years to use, was a pink-cheeked baby, resting with its eyes shut.
“We have a son, Uther.” Ygerna sounded exhausted. “We finally have a son!”
Uther sat next to his wife and kissed her forehead. He looked at his son with an expression of wonder. “I have a son,” he whispered. “We have a son.”
“What shall we name him?” Ygerna asked, looking at him with those Welsh blue eyes of hers.
“You know that I’ve always been fond of bears.” Uther smiled and stroked her hair. “What about Arto? It’s a good name.”
Ygerna shook her head. “How about Arthur?”
“The Welsh version of the word?” Uther chuckled softly. “You always did prefer anything Welsh.”
“Everything except for you, my love,” Ygerna replied softly.
Uther nodded. “Arthur it is.”
Uther heard a commotion in the great hall.
“It sounds like the others have finally arrived. I’ll go tell them the good news, and then I’ll come right back.”
Uther strode out of the bedchamber, followed by the servants who weren’t needed as witnesses anymore. When he reached the great hall, Merlin and the others who had traveled with him to meet with Vortigern were standing near the fire, waiting to hear whether the King of Gododdin finally had an heir.
“What’s the news?” Merlin asked when he saw Uther.
Uther hugged his friend. “Ah, Merlin, I have a son!”
Merlin and the others cheered their king.
“What did you name him?” Merlin asked.
“Arthur,” Uther replied proudly. “My son and his mother are doing just fine. And now I must return