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the gravemounds.
In my tent, I fell on my knees to pray, saying, 'My Lord Jesu, Great Giver, Redeemer and Friend, King
of Heaven, Beginning and End, hear my lament:
Three times three hundred warriors, bright was their hope, fierce their grip ea-life three times three
hundred we were, but no more, for death has claimed the hero's portion from the blood of good men.
'Three times three hundred, light of life shining full and without wavering, warm was their breath, quick
their eyes three times three hundred but no more, for tonight our sword brothers lie in silent turf-halls,
cold and abandoned by their own who cannot follow where they go.
'Three times three hundred, bold in action, keen in battle, steadfast companions when the fire of battle
raged three times three hundred we were, but no more, for the raven croaks over the fields where
grief has sown her seeds and watered them with women's tears.
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'Merciful Jesu, Great of Might, whose name is Light and Life, be light and life to these your fallen
servants. As you delight in forgiveness, forgive them; do not count their sins, rather consider this their
virtue: that when the call came to defend their homeland they took no thought for themselves, but roused
courage and went forth to do battle, knowing death awaited them.
'Hear me, Lord Jesu, gather our friends to your hall; seat them in your palace in Paradise, and you will
not want for finer companions.'
The next day the High King struck camp and rode for Londinium, where his father had been made king,
and where his own kingmaking would take place. Pelleas and I rode west to Dyfed, to find Bishop
Dafyd. I had it in mind that Dafyd should officiate at Aurelius' accession if he was as hale as Pelleas
indicated, and agreeable to the journey.
Londinium had a bishop, a priest named Urbanus, who, from what I had heard in camp, was a devout if
slightly ambitious young man. I had nothing against Urbanus, but Dafyd's attendance would, I thought,
further strengthen Aurelius' bond with the kings of the west. Also, I had not seen Dafyd since my return
from my long vigil in Celyddon, and this weighed heavily on my heart. Now that I had time to myself once
more I desperately wanted to see him.
Pelleas and I rode through a land that seemed to have passed from under the shadow of a preying bird.
Everywhere men breathed more freely; we were welcomed in settlements, we met traders on the road,
gates and doors were opened all this, and yet word of the Saecsen defeat could not have travelled
from the battlefield. How did the people know?
I believe people living close to the land know these things instinctively; they sense fluctuations in the
fortunes of men, as they sense minute changes in the weather. They see a red sunglow at dusk and know
it will rain on the morrow; they taste the wind and know that frost will cover the ground when they wake.
They apprehend the subtle ripples that great events cause in the atmosphere of the spirit. Thus, they knew
without having to be told that some great good had come to them and they did not have to be afraid any
more.
They knew, and yet they were glad to have news of the battle from us. This they would repeat to one
another for many days until all toddling child and bent-backed crone alike could repeat it, word for
word, just as it had come from my mouth.
We did not linger on the way, but sped with all haste to Llandaff, which was what men had begun calling
the place where Dafyd had built his church: a sturdy rectangular structure of timber on a high stone
foundation, surrounded by the smaller huts of the monks. Llandaff was a monastery like the others
springing up like mushrooms all over the west country not a few of them owing directly to Dafyd's
tireless work.
As we approached the tiny settlement we could see the good brothers going about their chores. The
younger men wore homespun robes of undyed wool; their elders' garments were light brown. The
women among them, for many of the monks were married, wore the same simple garb, or more
traditional clothing. All were busy about some task or other toting firewood, building, thatching,
tending the fields, feeding pigs, teaching the children of the nearby settlements and holdings and all
with the same jovial zeal. The place fairly hummed with earnest contentment.
We stopped to take this in, then dismounted and entered the compound on foot. I was greeted
courteously, and addressed as a king owing to my tore. 'How may we help you, lord?' the priest
asked, taking us in with frank appraisal.
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'I am a friend of the bishop here. I wish to see him.'
The monk smiled pleasantly. 'Of course. As you are his friend, you will understand that will be difficult.
Our bishop is very old and he is resting at this time of day, as is his custom. . . ' He spread his hands as if
to imply that the matter was beyond his influence, as no doubt it was. 'And then there is his sermon.'
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