Una found a tear falling down her cheek. Gareth had delivered one of the most profound motivational speeches for this war that Una had ever heard. Everyone here was a part of his three-hundred strongest in his great army. The entire hall was up in a roar, so loud that Una thought the glass in the room would shatter. Everyone was waiting for this decree. They were finally going off to meet the Pendragons this night. After a long two months of brutal training, this is what they were waiting for.
After the month of sacrifice, they had hoped they would go off to battle before first yule. Now here they were in north Wessex, in the heart of it all. They had journeyed north to meet with Llewellyn and Sion again. They lived in the second largest and strongest castle in Wessex. It would be the ideal place to be. However, Gareth ordered that Llewellyn leave with Sion for safety in the south. They traded castles.
Gareth ordered his wife to stay as well. He could not trust her being here. She would surely betray her kingdom and go home to her king's father. Gareth's army, as well as Laurel's army, had merged as one. Llewelyn's eagle that stayed behind, Zorya, had returned with a message from the north-east towers. The garrison had declared that the Pendragons had been scouted, moving south and quickly.
Luckily though, everyone has had their shields and armor ready for a long time. They had been waiting so patiently for this moment. The pressures of the wait had been driving everyone mad. Everyone was wearing their armor, even Ingrid, who had gained enough flesh and strength to fill out her chainmail. She looks like a completely different girl now. She no longer appeared as a thin girl but as a strong woman warrior to be reckoned with. As Una suspected, she was an archer and a lethal one now too. She could slice the stem off the top of an apple without piercing its tender flesh with her arrows. Even more impressive was Alaric. He had become just as deadly with a bow and sword. He was as strong as Laurel now and Gareth.
Una couldn't be prouder of the army they had created.
Una didn't like the tactic of breaking down her men to create blank slates out of them to do her bidding. Una taught Gareth how to allow the strengths and talents of each individual to flourish. If they could not use a bow well, give them a sword, if not the blade, a spear. If even a spear did not work, killing a man even with a shield or a club is easy. Everyone was unique, and that is what made Una's army so formidable.
Una suggested bringing in her army, but Gareth indicated that they create a stronghold near Offa's dyke. That would be enough to surround them. The great armies of Wealas agreed to Gareth's terms, but they would not intervene directly with the troops of Wessex and Mercia.
"Ready the horses! We have no time to waste. It is the time!" Gareth said.
Everyone began to frantically pour out of the room in anticipation of this moment. Across the north of Wessex, three-thousand men were waiting for this call. They soon mounted their great steed and swelled the lands of Mercia, pushing the Pendragons back where they belong.
Una stood up but waited. Gareth had asked that Laurel, Ingrid, Alaric, and she would stay behind. Ingrid was the best archer. She would control that division. Alaric was obviously the best healer and would run the tents for the wounded and all other physicians. Laurel was best with spears, and most of his men were best apt with them. Una was best with the sword, so that she will be leading the front with Gareth. Gareth was the brains of these forces. After all, he was the king, and like his father, Gareth was incredibly diplomatic and tactful.
Una watched as the men passed her by, many of them giving her a nod and smile. She watched as the crowd slowly dispersed, and it was just them who were left. Gareth, Laurel, Ingrid, and Alaric were at all different corners of the room. They all peered at each other, waiting for Gareth to approach. Una could feel the anxiety grow in the room. They all were calm, yet inside they cowered with terror. For Ingrid and Alaric, this was their first war. Una can relate to how terrifying it was for her. Una could see that they were relatively calm, but underneath they shook like newborn lambs.
"The time is nigh. The hour of war is upon us." Gareth said valiantly.
He walked down the steps and stood in front of them all.
"Come." He motioned with his arms and a smile.
They all glanced at each other again and walked up to him around a table.
"I know that all of you have been working diligently forming plans, melding minds and hearts together, but now is the time to put the written works to acts," Gareth said, pulling a stag skin map from out under his arm.
He slapped it on the table and rolled it out for everyone's view.
"This is where they were spotted a few days ago." He said, pointing down at a location far northeast of them.
"This is where they are currently, and they're coming fast." He moved his finger southwest, directly above where they were situated.
"They could be hours away!" Laurel gasped.
"Precisely, that is why I entrust that each one of you will have a flawless delivery on the battlefront. Do not disappoint me." He said, peering at each of them.
"We will not disappoint you, my King," Ingrid said, bowing her head down.
"Please, Ingrid. This is no time for formalities. You either live, or you die. Do not wait on me to inflict your strikes. You must be swift and precise." Gareth said.
"My king, what would you have me do if my tents become overfilled with men," Alaric asked.
"That shouldn't be a problem if my men know what they are doing. However, if unfortunate circumstances present this unfathomable outcome, I will say leave them and fight. We will need as many men out there, Alaric. You're one hell of a swordsman yourself, so it would be honorable to go and fight alongside Una and me." Alaric smiled.
"Laurel, I trust you and your men have everything sorted out?" Gareth looked at him.
"Yes, my King. I have men dispersed across the borders who will be pleased to hear that they may proceed. They have grown tired of dealing with women's blood. They want the real blood of pierced men on them! This is a Godsent." Laurel smiled and gorgeously laughed as usual.
"Well, I think we can all agree that the blood of war is most excitable. However, do not get ahead of yourselves. If you falter with your men, we will all fall." Gareth insisted.
Una could see now how all the chess pieces were lined up. Now it was the time to make the first move, but it was customary that Una let the opponent do it first. She could map out exactly where they were going. Gareth agreed, and now that the pendragons have moved south, it was time for their move. They could see who was running, who was hiding, and who would get the checkmate.
"Alright, let us ride out. But first, I would like us to join hands in prayer. Like many of you, this is my first war too, my first war as King." He sighed, sticking out his hands.
They all gathered hands around the table. Una held hands with Alaric and Laurel. Both of their hands were cold and had the faintest feeling of sweat. Even though Laurel had been through many wars, he felt just as clammy as Alaric. Even Una was nervous, but she knew this was the best group she could ever be in. This was her family now. Every one of them meant so much to her on different levels. But they all were here for her, and she was there for them.
Everyone bowed their heads, even Una. This was something she has not done in so long, praying. But who would she pray to? Gareth's God was not Una's, nor was the old God's Una once worshiped. She would not dare think of Arawn now. She would pray to the God or Goddess that created him. She would pray to the creator of all, not some simpleton God or Goddess. Una realized this not long ago. If these Gods and Goddesses were real, they would not need blood sacrifice? If they can create life, why do they need it to be taken? Humans were merely vagrants in the presence of the Gods. Why would they need to take what little they already had? She abandoned the word, God or Goddess. The maker of all is who Una worshiped.
Gareth begins to pray in his language while Una prayed silently in hers.
"Fæder ure şu şe eart on heofonum, si şin nama gehalgod. To becume şin rice, gewurşe ğin willa, on eorğan swa swa on heofonum. Urne gedæghwamlican hlaf syle us todæg, and forgyf us ure gyltas, swa swa we forgyfağ urum gyltendum. And ne gelæd şu us on costnunge, ac alys us of yfele soşlice. Aæmen." Gareth said releasing his hands.
Una sighed, it was not enough time for her to pray, but she appreciated this moment to focus on something grander than themselves.
"The Lord's Prayer, how appropriate. Thank you, Gareth." Laurel said, walking up to him and giving him a tight hug.
"I'll see you later." Gareth smiled and patted him.
Laurel came around and hugged everyone goodbye, saying encouraging words and making light of the darkness that was coming soon.
"Hey, I don't want ever to see you sad, Una. You're much too pretty for a frown, prettier than Alaric even." He laughed, looking over at Alaric and winking.
"Oh, hush your tongue!" Alaric scowled.
"Haha, he hates it when I mess with him." Laurel laughed, looking back at Una.
He walked forward and wrapped his arms around Una so gently as if he was hugging his best-loved grandmother. He knelt his head down and whispered in her ear.
"You've made all of Bryttania proud. The evil reign of the pendragons will burn beneath the feet of our Celtic prowess." He said and gently kissed the side of her cheek.
Gareth smiled, seeing Laurel in this light. He looked like Una's late big brother. Perhaps that is why Una has found herself so attached to him. She had found her family again, though not related by blood, but linked, nonetheless.
He walked over to Alaric and gave him a mighty hug.
"If my leg gets chopped off, Alaric, I expect you to sew it back on and for its full functionality returned." He joked.
"I'll see to it." Alaric laughed, patting his pack.
"Alright, my little angel!" Laurel walked over to Ingrid and held her hands.
He planted a passionate kiss on her lips to everyone's shock, and Ingrid did not hold back either.
"Ingrid!" Alaric scolded.
"Someone sounds jealous." Laurel laughed as he broke his arms away from her and looked at Alaric.
"I'll see you later, my lady." He nodded to her and walked away.
"I'll see all you all soon too." He laughed, walking away, not without grabbing Alaric's rear as he walked away.
"Grr," Alaric grumbled.
"Ingrid!" He added, turning to her.
"What?" She giggled.
"This is no time for petty romances. Since when have you two shared kisses of affection like that?" Alaric scolded her.
"You're just jealous because you don't have a lady!" Ingrid snapped back.
"I have many!" He said, walking closer.
"Who, I don't see any? Oh, I know, it's that tavern whore Johanna!?" Ingrid laughed, folding her arms.
"You owe her your life!" Alaric shouted at her.
"Enough!" Gareth said, slamming his fist down at the table.
Both of them looked at Gareth, startled.
"Eh hem." Una cleared her throat.
"We cannot have sibling rivalries right now. Save your breath for the war." Gareth said.
He glared down at Ingrid.
"And you, if you find yourself daydreaming of Laurel, I hope you don't find yourself being struck down because you were distracted. I do not care who you are with. I don't want to see it, suspect it, or hear it. Do you understand?"
"Understood, my king," Ingrid said, pouting.
"And you, Alaric. Channel your rage for your sister through your heart and out through your sword and hands. I expect great things from you. Don't let me down because you become wroth so easily with your little sister." Gareth said, folding his arms.
"Yes, my King. I understand completely."
"Now, both of you leave my sight and go take your squabbles elsewhere. Una and I must discuss how we are going to carry out the first siege."
"Yes, my king." They both said unanimously, leaving.
Gareth and Una waited until they could hear the door close. Only the faint distant cry of a horse was heard.
"Must be a young one who has never seen war."
"Many of our trained horses did not make it through the last battle," Gareth said, walking up to Una.
He tried to lean in and kiss her, but Una put her hand upon his chest, preventing him from leaning closer.
"That's awfully hypocritical of you." Una laughed.
Gareth backed away and sat on the table, crossing his legs.
"I suppose you're right. I thought it would be a good time to kiss you. I haven't touched you since our last kiss. We've only been able to kiss what, two times? You have been refusing me lately, and I don't understand."
"Gareth, you know this can't go on much longer. You have a wife and a child on the way."
"What's wrong, Una?" Gareth asked.
"We are in the middle of a war, and you just scolded Ingrid for having lustful thoughts. Why is it that you can have them with me?"
"I can't help it, you're a beauty queen, and I can control myself very well."
"That's not what your body said the first time we kissed."
"Am I trying to pry your armor loose, so I get to your naked skin?"
"I fear if I let you, it would consume your thoughts in battle."
A grin came over Gareth's face, and he laughed.
"You'd be willing to let me touch you finally?" He laughed.
"I'll strike a bargain with you. You can do whatever you wish with me after we take over the Pendragons. You may kiss me, hold my hand or even sard me if you wish, but there will be none of that until we win. Don't touch me again, for I fear myself becoming absorbed by the light of your grace." Una smiled.
Gareth smiled and tilted his head down.
"Fine then, but only if I may do one thing before."
"What would that be?" Una grinned.
Gareth stood up and walked over to a box sitting on a barely noticeable shelf. He walked back and put it on the table. Gareth pulled up on the latch and popped the lid open. Inside was his crown, which he took out and paid no attention to. Then he pulled out something silver and shining. He set it on the table next to his crown.
"This was my mother's crown. The crown my wife wears was her own. She refused to wear this one even though it is more beautiful and valuable. It's a simple design, not gaudy like Wilona's. It fits snuggly on the head so that it may not fall off during battle. My mother was a warrior like you. Nothing could defeat her, not until her own body betrayed her and she fell sick and died like my sister." Gareth said, peering down at the crown.
It was a beautiful crown that consisted of a circular band of silver. In the middle, the height bent down at a point that was to fit over the forehead's center. Engraved in the silver were ornate designs of flowers, filigree, and animals. It was more beautiful than Una's own crown.
"I want you to wear it during battle. I'm tired of you pretending to be less than my people. You are a queen, Una. I need you to be my queen in this battle. And when all is said and done, you will always remain my queen."
"Gareth I..." Una hesitated, feeling her cheeks burn.
"Spare me your sentiment, Una. Be proud for once. Wear this and ride alongside me. Together, we will be invincible." He smiled sweetly at Una.
She gently took it out of his hands.
"Your mother would be so proud seeing you now. I know your father too. You are more like him than you know. You're kind and gentle, but also strong and brave. I was a fool for not choosing you so long ago when I had the chance. For that, I apologize. This time though, this time I won't make that mistake again." Una said, gently placing the crown over her head.
It felt snug but not tight so that it would stay in its place. Her helmet could go over this crown too. It was a crown for a true warrior queen, a queen just like Una.
"That's why my father was so successful in battle. Behind him, he always had my mother guiding him. She was as strong and brave as you. She was nothing like Wilona. You would have meant so much to her if you could meet her today. I know she would have loved you. I already know that my father did." He smiled.
Una sighed and took another deep breath.
"I'm ready," Una said, gulping.
"Let's go tame us some dragons." Gareth smiled.
They both walked out together in front of the castle. An uproar began for them as they approached. Gareth put on his crown and almost cried seeing all these faces so willing to give their lives of Wessex.
"To victory!" He shouted.
Everyone roared so loud the Pendragons probably could have heard them. It was time to play the most fantastic game, the game of life and death.