Hawk of May Read Free

would be civil war in Britain, as there had been thirty years before at the death of Vortigern. My father, who had made three of the kings then reigning in Britain, would have a chance to try his hand at making a High King.
    Lot went on, talking out his own plans now, back and forth across the floor, the dust swirling in the sun-beam. “…Docmail of Gwynedd claimed the High Kingship at the council, saying that the kings of Gwynedd ought to be High Kings because they are descended from the Roman High King Maximus, but Gwlgawd of Gododdin opposed him…Docmail made alliances with Dyfed and Powys, and he has sent messages to Gwlgawd telling him to renounce his claim to the Pendragonship. Gwlgawd is afraid and seeks to form an alliance of his own. He has sent messengers to Caradoc of Ebrauc…and to me.” Lot smiled again, triumphantly, and stopped short by the bed, looking at the map. “Caradoc may join or not, as he pleases. I will come. With my warband and supplies from Gwlgawd, we can sweep Docmail into the sea! And Gwlgawd…he will be easy to control.” He snapped away from the map and again began pacing, his eyes blazing, fists clenched as he reckoned kings and kingdoms, loyalties and enmities. “If we arrive in the North in force to join Gwlgawd, Strathclyde will probably join Docmail, and Urien of Rheged may claim the Pendragonship for himself—a force to be feared, Urien—still, he is my brother-in-law, and must try negotiations before he declares war; we can spin out negotiations…”
    â€œBe careful,” snapped Morgawse. “The alliances will be unsettled, and one can never rely on any alliance in Britain. There will be other claimants to the title before this war is ended, and too many kingdoms have not yet declared themselves.”
    Lot nodded, without breaking his step. “Of course. And we must separate the kings as much as possible; and see that we divide the spoils evenly with our allies—Diuran can help with that, and Aidan. And then there must be time and a blind eye to blood feuds, at intervals, but we cannot let the Ui Niaill begin fighting or there’ll be no stopping it.” He fell silent, considering how to control blood feuds. In the end, he would ask Morgawse, and she would tell him what she had long before thought out, and it would work.
    Feeling very nervous, I managed to stammer, “W-what about Arthur?”
    Lot scarcely glanced at me, though Morgawse gave me a sharp look. Arthur had been Uther’s war-leader and, if half the stories told were true, the High King’s warband would follow him, Uther or no Uther. Because of this Arthur had power, although he was only one of Uther’s bastards and a clanless man. He could have no claim to the Pendragonship himself, but he was certainly in a position to make a High King.
    â€œArthur?” Lot shrugged, still thinking of blood feuds. “He will support no one. He will continue to fight the Saxons, with the royal warband—or as much of it as he can support.”
    â€œBe careful,” Morgawse warned again, even more sharply. “The lord Arthur is dangerous. He is the finest war-leader in Britain, and he will not remain neutral if he is provoked.”
    â€œOh, have no fear.” Lot was still casual. “I will be very careful of your precious half-brother. I’ve seen him command.”
    â€œSo have I.” Her voice was soft, but Lot stopped, meeting her eyes for a moment. He was silent, looking at her. It seemed for a moment as though the sunlight paled, and the dust hung frozen inthe air, andsome chasm opened behind the world. I shivered. I recognized that dark light in her eyes. Hate, the black tide that had drowned Uther, turning his friends to enemies, stirring up foreign invasion and civil dissension, until at last that chasm had swallowed him, perhaps…and now Morgawse’s hatred turned towards Arthur. I wondered again how Uther