Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) by Ruth Nestvold Page A

northern kingdoms with the bad harvests of the last years. Recent harsh winters and wet summers had affected the affluent south less than the north, where the growing season was shorter to start with.
    "Cador, could you not find it in your heart to stop tossing and turning?" Gawain murmured beside him.
    Despite his worries, Cador smiled into the darkness. "I was not tossing and turning."
    "Good, then sighing. Heavily. Would you care to share a wineskin?"
    Cador threw back the covers and sat up on his bedroll. "Excellent idea."
    He crawled out of the tent, his back aching. He was not meant to be a soldier. It was hard to believe that as a youth he'd dreamt of glory fighting with Arthur. Stretching in the cold night air, he remembered how he had once innocently asked the newly appointed Dux Bellorum, "Which battle was your favorite in your northern campaigns?"
    "There is no such thing as favorites when it comes to battles, Cador," Arthur had said. "Friends die in all of them."
    At the time, he'd found Arthur's words hard to believe, but all too soon he learned how true they were.
    Gawain followed him out of the tent and tied the flap closed. Silently, they made their way to the edge of the camp where they would not disturb anyone. They found a pair of trees bordering the clearing and sank down on the grass, leaning their backs against the trunks.
    "I have at least as much reason to worry about her as you, my friend," Gawain said, passing the wineskin to Cador.
    Cador took a long draught and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I know." That was part of the problem . "Don't worry, you've been discreet enough — but I know both of you well."
    Gawain grunted. "It would not matter to me if all of Britain knew. She is the one who wants our relationship kept a secret."
    How had he gotten into a discussion of the woman he loved with the man who fucked her? Cador sighed; perhaps it wasn't that far-fetched at all, since they were on their way to Dyn Tagell — and her.
    He had to change the subject. He leaned his head back against the cold bark of the tree. "Tell me, Gawain, do you have a favorite battle?" he asked, the old memory still fresh in his mind.
    In the pale moonlight, Gawain cocked his head to one side, considering the question in a way Cador never would. "It wouldn't be Din Eidyn."
    Cador nodded. With his brothers Gareth and Gaheris, Gawain had fought against their father Lot and their brother Agravaine at the battle of Din Eidyn. Just as Drystan had fought against Marcus.
    "There is little glory in siege," Cador said, remembering the bodies dumped from the high walls, their skulls splitting open like eggs on the rocks below.
    "That there is not." Gawain took the wineskin and tipped his head back for a long drink, then lowered it again. "I think my favorite battle would have to be Caer Baddon. I still remember riding down the hills of the downs towards Cerdic's forces, leading the charge on one side while Arthur led it from the other, catching the enemy between us and putting that traitor to flight."
    "You saved our asses that day."
    In the moonlight, Cador could see the trace of a smile flit across Gawain's wide lips. "What about you, Cador? Is Baddon your favorite battle as well?"
    "Baddon was my first major battle with Arthur's forces," he said in lieu of an answer. He could still feel the fear when the enemy army advanced. Cador's men were to provide the shield for the archers, and had sent their horses behind the lines. If they'd had to retreat, Cador and his men would have been without mounts. Then the command from Arthur: "Shields up!" They knelt on the paved road shoulder to shoulder, bright spring grass sloping away on either side.
    And the dying had begun.
    "Ah, yes," Gawain said. "I forget sometimes how young you are. A man's first real battle is never his favorite."
    "Probably not."
    Cador was not young; he was over thirty now, a widower twice over. Besides, his first real battle had been before Caer Baddon, but with