A man to be watched, then.

The king of Caer-Baddan had spoken already; King Einion of Caer-Celemion named himself next, adding, "Not a week passes that the Saxons and the dogs of Wessex do not test our borders. I have ordered every hill fort in Caer-Celemion to be refortified."

He was followed by King Cyndyddan of Caer-Ceri, the kings of Caer-Colun and Caer-Durnac and Caer-Gloui, all heavily threatened by Wessex and Sussex and all visibly worried as they took their seats. Brenna glanced at the great map on the wall as each man spoke, tracing out the borders and their relative positions to Saxon-held lands. These men were right to worry about the threat to their borders.

Brenna's attention was wrenched back as Artorius' young wife, hair shining like flame, spoke languidly. "I, Queen Ganhumara, heiress of King Carmelide and wife of the Dux Bellorum, speak for Caer-Guendoleu." Every male eye in the room locked on her, doomed moths drawn to her fire and shimmering beauty. A young man Morgana identified as Melwas of Glastenning stared at Ganhumara so longingly, even Brenna was disturbed. Ganhumara smiled sinfully into the poor young man's eyes as she flicked her long skirts aside and took her seat.

King Elafius, who ruled three kingdoms, Caer-Gwinntguic, Caer-Lundein, and Caer-Mincip, in the midlands, had to clear his throat before he could even speak clearly and the kings of Caer-Lerion, Caeston, and Calchfynedd had nearly as much difficulty tearing their gazes away. Artorius brooded silently, darting black looks at his wife from time to time.

"I, King Ceredig, speak for Ceredigion," the next man in line nodded to his peers, then introduced the young man beside him. "My son, Prince Sandde."

Brenna did not like the way Sandde looked at every woman within range; something about the young prince left her skin crawling, a sentiment Morgana shared. His reputation is a poor one. Ceredig is a fine man, but has shown too lax a hand in raising his son. That one will cause trouble. And trouble, we do not need.

The next man spoke slowly, with a deeply troubled air. "I, King Mar, son of Ceneu, King of Ebrauc, speak for the Kingdom of Dent." He stepped to the oxhide map and used a stick of charcoal to sketch out a chunk of land between modern Yorkshire and the Humber River. "When Vortigern was Dux Bellorum, he forced us to accept Saxon foederati. When the Saxons rose in the south, we of Ebrauc and Dent were forced to a compromise, to keep the Saxons from overrunning the entire countryside. This territory, all of Dewyr, we have been forced to give the Saxons to buy them off long enough to protect the rest of our kingdoms."

Exclamations of dismay rose like startled birds.

"My God," one man gasped, "with a toehold like that, they can strike Dunoting, Elmet, Lindsey, even the Pennines!"

The king of Lindsey growled out his agreement. "We have been forced to shift our heavy cavalry to our northern border, to keep the Saxons bottled up in Dewyr."

As the uproar died down, a stocky man who shared the same coloration as Artorius spoke out strongly. "I, Cadorius, King of Dumnonia and Earl of Cerniw," Brenna glanced at the map, locating Dumnonia and Cerniw as the modern Cornwall, "have news nearly as grave as this. Cousin," he spoke directly to Artorius, "Wessex looks to expand its borders through Caer-Durnac straight into Glastenning sometime in the next few months, which threatens not only Dumnonia and Glastenning, but the entire Briton southwest. As a sub-kingdom under Dumnonia, Glastenning is the strongest ally we have between us and the Saxons."

Cadorius turned to introduce a younger man with him. "At my request, Sub-King Melwas of Glastenning has undertaken the refortification of Caer-Badonicus at the border with Caer-Durnac, for if Wessex should take Caer-Badonicus, there is no force in all of Britain strong enough to dislodge them. Anyone who holds Caer-Badonicus would be able to field a fighting force that could ravage the countryside for miles around and provide a strong point to attack kingdoms further north and west. The work to strengthen the fortifications has begun, but will require more men than we can readily spare. The summit is a full eighteen acres of land, five hundred feet above the Salisbury Plain. This is too much land for Glastenning and Dumnonia working alone to fortify as quickly as the work must be done, not if we are to safeguard the gateway to the kingdoms of the southwest. I must ask for help from the other kings of Britain to refortify Caer-Badonicus."

King Idnerth, the weasel-faced descendant of Vortigern, asked in a tone just shy of insolence, "What other work have you undertaken, that men cannot be spared to repair Caer-Badonicus?"

Cadorius flushed. "Our crops are not yet safely in, for the season is more advanced here in the north than it is in the south, where the harvesting has just reached its peak. The weather is bad as well, unseasonably bad. The hay is already lost, rotting in wet fields, and the rye is thick with ergot from the rain, a total loss. If we don't salvage what we can from the wheat and barley fields and the orchards, the entire south will risk starvation this winter, leaving us weak and unable to defend ourselves at precisely the time the Saxons are threatening our borders. If we hope to keep our people at fighting strength, to hold the Saxons out over the long winter ahead, we must get what remains of the harvest in, leaving precious little in the way of manpower to work on fortifications. Even the toddling children are in the fields.

"My own brothers, Prince Justanus and Prince Solomanus, are strengthening every hill fort in Dumnonia, using women and half-grown lads where necessary to carry out the work, and Meliau, Prince of Cerniw, is rebuilding the walls of our coastal defenses from St. Michael's Mount north to Tintagel, where our cousin Artorius was born." He inclined his head to Artorius, who was frowning, deeply unhappy with the grim picture King Cadorius was painting. "Meliau has been charged with holding the Irish coast," he swept his hand across the oxhide map, indicating the entire western coast of Cornwall, "to prevent the Irish high kings from striking from the west while we are preoccupied with the Saxons to the east."

It was as good an arrangement as could be managed, under the circumstances. Even Idnerth could not find anything further to complain or needle Cadorius about and fell silent, darting dark and dangerous looks at his fellow kings and queens as King Dingad ap Einion of Dunoting named himself and his son, Prince Meuring ap Dingad, followed by King Aricol Lawhir and Prince Vortepor ap Aricol of Dyfed. The king of Ebrauc—modern York and, in several centuries to come, the heart of the Viking Danelaw—rose next.

"I, King Gergust Letlum ap Ceneu ap Coel Hen, and my son Prince Eliffer ap Gergust, will gladly field as large a force as Ebrauc can muster, for the Angles harry our seaports in growing numbers and already the Angles speak of alliance with King Aelle of Sussex, to strike in a pincer movement. Cutha may have mouthed pretty words about a Saxon-Briton alliance against the Angles, but that is all it ever was: pretty words.

"We have intercepted dispatches between them, giving us written proof of their planned cooperative ventures against Briton kingdoms of the eastern coast. Ebrauc will answer Dumnonia's plea for men to help with the fortification of Caer-Badonicus. And Ebrauc will send as many of its lads not yet old enough to fight as can be spared, to help bring in the southern harvest, our own being safely in the barns and granaries. Ebrauc will help and gladly, for if we fail to act together in this crisis, the Saxons and Angles and Jutland Danes will peck us to death like carrion crows, one at a time."

"I, King Masguic Clop ap Gergust of Elmet," the young man next to Gergust spoke up at once, "will also send men with those my father will raise from Ebrauc."