Read Online The Raven Warrior by Alice Borchardt - Free Book Online

dashed forward and paced the king. They were drenched with perspiration, as were their lathered horses, but the horses pranced without the encouragement of whip or spur, and the boys looked delighted to be noticed by their king and chief priestess.
    “Secure the grove ahead,” Uther directed. “We will rest there, and I don’t want to ride into an ambush.”
    The youngsters tore out whooping and yelling, horses racing over the ground toward the trees.
    “My God,” Uther whispered. “To be young and foolish again.”
    Morgana laughed, but sobered immediately. “Foolish it is,” she said. “If anyone is waiting there, they will certainly draw their fire.”
    “That’s the idea,” Uther answered.
    One of the dark priestesses reached Uther’s side. She wore the skin of a panther over her helmet, the curved fangs pressed against her forehead, the paws hanging over her shoulders, claws dangling. She was slim, her long, dark hair braided in seven plaits that dangled at her shoulders. Her arms were tattooed and her face bore blue-stained scars like the rake of a cat’s claws.
    She grunted her approval of the boys’ tactics, then set off, followed by a dozen older warriors, moving more slowly. Uther knew at least a hundred more of the Cat Society waited in the background to follow up if an ambush should occur.
    He really didn’t expect one, but it was safest to check.
    Morgana raised her arm again and moved her fingers in a complex pattern. And Uther knew that, should an ambush occur, without his ever giving a command, the remaining warrior societies would encircle the grove and slaughter the attacking troops.
    This far out into the hinterlands, they would probably be poorly armed, slingers, archers, and spearmen at best, while his men were heavy cavalry, riding the Celtic saddle that molded itself to the horses’ backs and whose horns bent under weight of a rider and supported his thighs, maintaining him firmly astride his horse. Moreover, they all had boiled leather armor sewn with metal plates, carried good swords and bull hide shields that could deflect the swiftest arrow, the most viciously slung sling missile, and even an iron-headed spear.
    “Good exercise for them,” Morgana said. “But no one is going to bother us here. If they’re waiting, it will be further down the road toward London, likely at a river ford. Or in the city itself.”
    “Then they will be disappointed,” Uther muttered. “Because I’m not going to London. At least, not as king. When we depart the grove this evening, I will ride to London with a few of my most trusted men. You and the dark ladies will turn and invest Cadbury.”
    “Cadbury. The place is a ruin,” Morgana said.
    “Doesn’t matter. It can be held even by a small, poorly armed force. And I want you to take and defend any other hill-forts you can.”
    “God!” she whispered. “I see your strategy. But the risk. If the Saxons should be in the city already? You could be killed.”
    “I know,” he said. “But if I’m not, I will know who is loyal and who isn’t. Move into the hill-forts and consolidate your position. If I am killed—and you will hear of it if I am—attack the city. Show no mercy. Wipe out the Saxon garrison there, disperse the inhabitants, burn it to the ground. It is the dwelling place of the most powerful families in the Themis valley. Then scorch the earth from Cadbury to the wash. Burn every farm and villa from the meanest to the mightiest. Trample the green wheat, girdle the orchards, drive off the livestock, spoil what the army cannot consume. Ignore the cities. They will wither and die without the countryside to sustain them.”
    “My lord,” Morgana whispered. “That would be a costly campaign, not only in terms of our own army. But many of those still loyal to the high king will turn their backs on us and go their own way. Besides, think of the horror and devastation. We will strangle our own blood. Not since the Icini revolt have