Victory had been complete. The Angles with their allies from Dane land, Frisians and Jutes, had been annihilated. Only a few chieftains, badly wounded and abandoned by their fleeing war bands had survived. The route and destruction of the Sassanach had been complete.
Arthur ordered that these survivors be cared for, their wounds tended, and all respects shown. There were some grumbles, but he was obeyed. Arthur wanted some survivors to carry the tale, in order to spread terror among the Sassanachs.
The Angles and their assembled allies had been caught on the south banks of the Aire river, scant days after the sack of Eborarcum.
The Danes had rowed up river to meet the Angle host just north of Eborarcum.
Arthur had moved his army with a speed never before seen in the world. Using the old Roman net work of roads, moving at an virtually unimpeded gallup, the four wheeled war chariots of his Brigante heavy Cavalry and his entire horse Cavalry had reached the smoking devastation of Eboracum two days after the sack. Arthur turned and followed the Angles north, catching them at the River Aire.
Each Brigante war chariot carried three warriors and the driver plus weapons, armor and some supplies. Arthur had five hundred drawn by the small Celtic ponies. An additional thousand horse cavalry gave him a total of four thousand five hundred effective combatants. An additional five thousand heavy infantry followed along with the supplies at a forced march a good day behind. The Sassanach host had something over fifteen thousand men.
The Sassanach barely had time to begin to form a line when the war chariots slammed into them. The Horse Calvary harried the flanks, and took the Sassanach host in the rear. It could not have been called a battle, there was only slaughter. The sassanachs, surprised, and their line broken, panicked and broke ranks, with Arthur’s army in their midst, leaping from the war chariots and forming into the old Celtic arrow formations. Hewing as if at harvest, scything the barley.
Like scythes Arthur’s army mowed the Sassanach down. The horse cavalry ruthless in their pursuit of the few that ran. No mercy or quarter was given. The only survivors were the few chieftains still breathing, laying where they had fallen, found when Arthur’s men were searching for comrades amongst the dead. Arthur ordered the weapons of the Sassanachs gathered, and hurled into the river, the bodies piled on the drawn up long ships, and burned.
Twelve odd thousand dead Angles, Jutes, Frisians, and Danes, covered the long ships completely. Though not all of the long ships were burned. The twenty largest, Arthur ordered to be saved, and he called for volunteers with sea experience. these twenty long ships were crewed by British and Irish volunteers disguised as Angles, Jutes and Saxons. Sent to ravage and burn their way down river, then along the shore. This was to sow distrust and confusion among the Sassanach, in order to prevent the Saecsen and Angles from finding common cause.
After the raiders had been dispatched on their mission Arthur ordered general assembly of his army. The assembled men cheered ” Hai-aton, RigoThamus!” as the Sassanach burned. When the flames subsided, Arthur dismissed the men, and called for council. The council lasted through the night.
The council was chaos. Flush with such an overwhelming victory, the petty rivalries resurfaced. Shouting threats, bullying and posturing reigned among the assembled Celtic tribal kings. Enraged, Arthur brandished Caladwylch. ” I will not reign by the sword!” He thundered.
“I will reign by justice and right! Not with cowardly fear and bullying, forcing men to cower! I will have my people on their feet, free men! Not on their knees! Or I will not rule at all!” Arthur whirled and hurled Caladwylch into The Aire river. He then stalked away from the gaping council of kings. Shocked beyond speech the kings stared. At length, the bickering began again. The self serving maneuvering and divisions that had divided Britain and allowed the Sassanach to gain their footholds. The same divisions that had allowed the Romans to conquer the Celts resumed.
Throughout the night the arguing and petty posturing continued. Periodically the kings called for Arthur to return to council. Arthur responded to each demand with silence. Morning found Arthur still awake. His anger and disgust at the selfish and petty posturings of the so called council of kings had allowed Arthur no rest. When a messenger ordering Arthur to return to the council or incur their wrath, Arthur could stomach no more.
" Bedwyr, Gawain, call general assembly. Assemble the army. I will await the men before the sassanach pyres.” Arthur coldly ordered. The two men that had waited through the night with Arthur leapt to obey. Arthur was mounted, burnished armour blazing in the early morning sun.
The polished bronze scale barding of his war horse flashed as his three great hounds flanked and paced him while Arthur rode back and forth before the army. Red eared, white Branwen, black Cabhal and red Gwen pranced proudly as he rode.
” Combrogi, Cymru, friends I call you. You have called me RigoThamus, am I your king?” Arthur called. Clashing swords and spears on shields with stamping of their booted feet the army cried assent. “ Hai Aton Artos RigoThamus!”
” Cymru , my friends, I will have you as friends not servants, if I am to be your king, I would lead a free people! I will have no slaves or servants among my followers! Will you be free men and follow where I lead?”
The army cried as one. ” Hai aton Artos Rigothamus lead us!” ” Then swear oath to this, as I swear oath to you my Cymru” Arthur shouted as he dismounted, kneeling before the army.
Drawing his dagger Arthur slashed his right palm, and holding his bleeding hand above his head, palm open his blood flowed freely. Arthur swore the ancient three fold oath of the Celts. ” May the skies shatter and fall upon me! May the Earth split open and swallow me! May the seas rise and drown me If I am forsworn! My blood and my life I give you my Cymru!” Arthur stood, as to a man, the army knelt and took blood oath.
The white raven circled observing all of this. Then, wings folded, plunged into the river.
A woman robed in blue and white. Red hair hanging to her waist in warriors braids wearing an ancient Celtic war helm peaked with a raven emerged from the river. Caladwylch in her hands. Shouts of Brigantia, Andraste, Morrigu, Aeronwen, Boudiga rose from the ranks.
Arthur turned to behold a wonder emerging from the river. He fell to his knee, “Milady...” Arthur looked up at her, she was taller than most men. She kissed the sword, blade and hilt, raised it high overhead, and drew Arthur to his feet. Smiling she said, ” I would not have my anointed kneel.” hooking her free arm around Arthurs neck she kissed him fiercely. Power raged over and through Arthur, heat, cold, fire, lightning. Arthur staggered when she released him, placing the hilt of Caladwylch in his trembling right hand.
She shimmered, and a large white raven took wing, circling and cawing. Myrddyn watched from a distance murmuring to himself. ” Careful lad, that’s how she caught me...”
Arthur stared at Caladwylch for a few heartbeats, brandished it high and called out, ” Cymru, I ride for Ebarorcum , follow me my friends! “ The men of the horse cavalry raced for their mounts, Bedwyr and Gawain in the forefront, hurrying to follow their king.
The council saw all of this, thunderstruck and furious, as the army hurried to break camp and follow Arthur. The army completely ignored them as it marched away leaving them behind. Maelgwen was furious. His entire warband had ridden away with Arthur. Lothian was defenseless. Rhys, of the Brigante, laughed, tears shinning on his cheeks. The rest of the kings watched in consternation. They could not grasp what was so funny. The situation was dire for them.
Rhys looked at his fellow kings,“We thought to raise a tool for our use, we raised a king instead. We thought him a harmless pup that we could train up to our use. When all along he was a wolf, and we were the sheep.“
In one fell swoop, Arthur had dramatically stripped power from the petty British kings making them completely dependent upon him. The combined warbands of all of Britain, were now Arthurs.
All of Britain below the Antonine wall belonged to Arthur. Now, to unite them all. Arthur had a long hard job ahead, uniting the various tribal kingdoms and autonomous Roman towns.
The thing that made this possible was that Arthur had stripped all of the major kings and quite a few minor kings of their was bands. Without an army, it is kind of difficult to raid and war with your neighbors.
The Goddess, Aeronwen, Lady of the lakes, so publicly declaring him as king when she gave him Caladwylch and kissed him.
The Gwynyffyr had guaranteed the loyalty of the army. The rest was merely theater. Arthur had truly become King, RigoThamus in power and fact.
At Eborarcum, Arthur set his infantry to refurbishing the Roman built town. Repairing a deep ditch and earthen rampart completely around the town. While his horse cavalry, carried out raids on the near by settlements of the Angles.
Eborarcum would become Arthur’s base in the north. Arthur was merciless in the drilling of his army. Training them to act as one. Forging them into a likeness of his own mind. Quick, agile, decisive.
Among Arthur’s “Guests”, the survivors of the victory on the Aire river, Was Aelle, Cynrig, or king of the Angles. As Aelle slowly recovered, He watched Arthur and that Army, training. It was a sobering sight. Aelle became convinced that Arthur could wipe out all of the Angles in Britain with impunity. Those disturbing thoughts led him to approach Arthur.
Arthur had known from the beginning who Aelle was. It had always been Arthur’s intention to set Aelle free. To return to his people and to tell what Aelle had seen. To Know that Arthur was capable of mercy, so that there would be some hope to temper the despair. Arthur hoped Aelle would take a desire and hope for peace back to The Angles.
Judging Aelle fit and hale, Arthur set him free. Sending him away with gifts, a new sword, a wolfhound and a war horse Arthur could ill afford. It was a gamble.
Aelle was impressed. promising to stop the incessant cross raiding. Promising to tell all he had seen and experienced. Aelle planned to return with all of his chieftains in six weeks, to talk, and hammer out a peace. Arthur was pleased. Whether Aelle returned as friend or foe, Arthur would be prepared.
Beacon fires warned of Aelles return some five weeks latter. The news was welcome. Aelle approached Eborarcum with 200 men, and a train of women folk from the reports. This was no war hosting. Arthur ordered his cavalry to maneuver outside the new earth works of the town. Timing the display to match Aelles arrival. The Angles were awed. Aelles chiefs had never seen such a display. Clearly their king had not exaggerated in his telling of the defeat. Arthur greeted Aelle as a fellow king and friend. Clasping forearms, the two kings embraced before the refurbished gates.