Merlin and the others retrieved their horses and rode for the gates of the hillfort. As they reached the causeway leading to Din Eidyn, one of Uther’s servants lit the beacon on the wall overlooking the village.
The light shone brightly on the causeway as it reflected off the snow-covered ground. By the time Merlin reached his own estate, the other beacons in the area were lit, heralding to all of Gododdin that their future king, Prince Arthur, had come.
Heavy snows blanketed Din Eidyn for the next week, making the roads impassable. But the weather turned calm and the roads cleared by the end of the first week of January. Uther’s friends and allies, who had planned to travel to Din Eidyn in early January for the birth of Uther’s child, now arrived in time for Arthur’s christening.
In addition to Gododdin, four neighboring kingdoms were responsible for defending Britain’s northern borders, and their kings were chief among the allies who made the journey. Ceretic, the King of Strathclyde, ruled the lands west of Gododdin and bore the brunt of the Irish invasions. Nudd-Lludd, the King of Bryneich, ruled the lands south of Gododdin. Mor, the King of Ebrauc, ruled the lands south of Bryneich and had lost much of his kingdom, including his capital city, to Colgrin’s Anglian invaders. Gwrast Ledlwm, the King of Rheged, ruled the lands south of Strathclyde.
The hillfort at Din Eidyn was the largest in the northern kingdoms, and it was also one of the largest in all of Britain. The kings were housed in the guest wing of Uther’s great house, while the retainers and servants who traveled with their kings were lodged either in the guest quarters along the eastern wall or in the barracks that lined the southern and western walls.
The kings celebrated the birth and christening of the young prince with feasting. Normally, a gathering of kings like this would also include hunting, but the snow and ice that still blanketed the forests made that too dangerous for both horses and riders. Uther’s guests remained warm near the fires in the great hall, drinking wine and ale between the seemingly endless platters of food that Uther’s cooks prepared.
Queen Ygerna and Arthur remained secluded in their private apartments for the most part. But they made several appearances in the great hall during the festivities, much to the delight of their guests. Uther checked on them often. He loved Ygerna, and he was delighted to see her recovering quickly from the physical strain of childbirth. She was happier than he’d ever seen her. Looking at the baby in her arms, he found himself happier than he ever thought possible.
Late on the second night of the celebration, Merlin and the kings sat near the fire in the great hall, enjoying the afterglow of much good food, wine, and ale.
Nudd-Lludd looked over to Mor. “Is there any chance of you retaking York? Surely Colgrin doesn’t have that many troops along your eastern shores.”
Mor shook his head, sloshing ale from his tankard onto the flagstone floor. “He’s entrenched. I couldn’t dislodge him no matter how hard I tried. And now that he’s formed an alliance with Hengist and Horsa in the south, he can get Saxon reinforcements by longboat before I can get my army organized. If High King Vortigern doesn’t come to my aid, half of my kingdom will remain lost to me and my heirs.”
Nudd-Lludd snorted and wiped ale froth from his beard with the back of his hand. “Vortigern will never come to your aid, Mor. He married Hengist’s daughter thirteen years ago, remember? As long as Hengist and Colgrin are allies, Vortigern doesn’t dare do anything to upset his father-in-law. He’s barely keeping the Saxons contained along the southeastern coast.”
“Don’t talk about the High King in that way,” Ceretic said.
“Relax, Ceretic.” Uther gestured for a servant to refill everyone’s tankards. “No one’s insulting King Vortigern. But you have to admit that the Saxons, Jutes, and Anglians in Britain have increased in number since he married Rowenna. They’re encroaching all along the southern and eastern coasts of Britain, and the High King doesn’t seem to be doing anything to stop them. Vortigern’s own sons by his first wife deposed him and fought Hengist back to the original Saxon borders in the southeast. Vortimer would still be High King if he hadn’t been jealous of Ambrosius Aurelianus and decided to attack him instead of keeping his focus on the Saxons.”
“Don’t get me started on Ambrosius Aurelianus,” Gwrast Ledlwm roared contemptuously. “Did you know that he refers to his army as the ‘legion’? Mascen Wledig withdrew the Roman Legions from Britain eighty-two years ago. Who does he think he is? I’ll tell you this: he and the rest of the damnable Roman faction on the Council of Kings are doing nothing but making things hard for Vortigern.”
Gwranst’s face turned red as he looked over at Uther. “I’m sorry, Uther. I know you’re half-Roman yourself. I didn’t mean…”
“So what if Ambrosius is Roman or Uther is half-Roman? Mor interrupted. “Vortigern is not lord over us. We elected Vortigern as High King to handle the defense of Britain, and he’s done a poor job. If Ambrosius can do a better job, we should elect him to replace Vortigern.”
“You’re speaking treason, Mor,” Ceretic growled.
“How so?” Mor demanded. “Vortigern is in charge of our armies in the field; he is not King of Britain. If we elected him, we can just as easily remove him and replace him with someone who will keep us safe from our enemies.”
“It’s never been done before,” Nudd-Lludd pointed out.
“There’s always a first time,” Mor stated.
Ceretic looked over at Uther. “You’ve been quiet on this subject, Uther. What are your thoughts?”
Uther looked at the other kings. He took a swig of ale and put down the tankard. “Ever since the Night of the Long Knives nine years ago, we’ve known that the Saxons can never be trusted. We’re fortunate that none of us was present that night, or we’d be dead, too. The presence of the Saxons and their allies in Britain is a threat to all of us. We made Vortigern the head of our armies and responsible for the defense of Britain. For a while, he led our armies well… until he invited Hengist and Horsa to come as mercenaries to help him defend Britain against the Irish, Picts, and Caledonians. Now, every year we lose territory, and the Saxons and their allies gain. Hengist has even expanded north to within sight of the former Roman capital of Camulodunum! If this continues, we’ll be overrun, and the Saxons will be our masters. Whatever it takes to prevent that is the only rational choice for us.”
“So you support deposing Vortigern and replacing him with Ambrosius?” Gwrast accused.
“I didn’t say that,” Uther replied carefully. “But Vortigern needs to remember that he answers to us, not to Hengist. If the High King won’t defend us against the Saxons, Jutes, Anglians, Irish, Picts, and Caledonians, then replacing him with someone who will becomes a matter of survival.”
“Do you think that we’re there yet?” Nudd-Lludd asked.
Uther leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard. “I don’t know, but I think that we’ll have our answer by year-end.”
After the other kings retired for the night, Uther and Merlin sat alone in the great hall.
“What are your thoughts, Merlin?”
Merlin drained his tankard. “Nudd-Lludd is right. Vortigern’s loyalties are divided, and Britain is suffering as a result. If he can’t or won’t stop the Saxons from encroaching into our lands, then the kings must elect someone else to lead us.”
“He was right about one thing,” Uther said, referring to Nudd-Lludd. “It’s never been done before.”
Merlin leaned forward. “Vortigern is only our second High King since we threw off Roman rule fifty-five years ago. The kings didn’t grant him lordship over their respective kingdoms. He serves at the pleasure of the kings, and if the kings are displeased with him, then they have the right to replace him.”