I was of the Christianogi already, so had no need of another baptism, but I went down to the water, too, to ask forgiveness for my sins so that I might enter battle with a spotless soul. Many another Christian among us did the same, while others began singing a hymn of praise to the Gifting God, and the dusky hills echoed with the holiest of sounds.

We rose before dawn and broke fast. We donned leather and mail; we helmed ourselves with iron and strapped steel to our hips. We slung our heavy wooden shields over our shoulders and bound our arms and legs with hard leather. We saddled our horses, formed the ranks, then moved silently through the wood to Baedun Hill.

Before daylight we assembled below the hulking flanks of Baedun and looked long upon the two dark fortresses rising above us. The enemy sentries saw us gathering below the hill on the eastern side and sounded the alarm. In moments the screams assaulted our ears as the massed barbarian hosts – Picti, Angli, Irish, Saecsen and others – raised their hideous battle cry.

Rhys on his left hand, Llenlleawg on his right, Arthur advanced slowly up the slope. The grade rises sharply halfway up, and here Arthur halted the army, dismounted, and walked forward alone. He walked boldly to the bank of the first ditch and stopped. 'Cerdic!' he called. 'Come down! I would speak to you.'

'Speak, Bastard of Britain!' came the sharp reply. 'I can hear you.'

'I stretch out my hand to you in peace, Cerdic,' said the Duke. 'I stand ready to forgive you and all those with you if you will swear fealty to me.'

'Whorespawn!' screamed Cerdic. 'I have no need of your forgiveness or pardon. I will swear only to your death. Come up here, if you are not afraid, and we will see who bends the knee.'

'I have offered peace, and I am reviled,' said Arthur. 'Yet I will have peace in the end.' With that he turned and walked back to bis horse.

Once remounted, he signalled Rhys, who raised the horn to his lips, giving forth the long, ringing call to battle. Arthur drew Caledvwlch and lofted it high. The sun's first rays struck the well-honed blade and set it aflame. 'For God and Britain!' he cried, and his cry echoed along the line on either hand and down from the stone wall above.

The battle call sounded again, and his horse trotted forward. The a/a surged forth behind him, the doubled ranks of footmen behind them. The trot became a canter and then a gallop.

The combined warbands of Britain stormed up the rock-strewn slope and reached the first ditch. Down we plummeted, and up we rose, scrambling for a foothold on the opposite side. Then we were up and over, and climbing steeply. The mighty battle horns of the Saecsen – great buUroarers to shake the dead in their graves! – trembled the cool dawn air. I felt the pounding thump of the war drums hi my stomach and the cool rush of air on my face.

But my hands were steady on my spear; my shield was solid beside me. I gave my mount his head and let him choose the ascent. The terrain was so rocky that I could not guide him and fight at the same time. Ahead I saw the leading bank of the second ditch. I stole a glance to either side to see that my men were with me, and then we plunged into the ditch together.

As in previous battles the ala was formed into divisions, each led by one of Arthur's battlechiefs: Cai, Bors, Gwalchavad and myself, two kings each below us. Arthur and Cador, and the remaining lords, led the footmen, coming on behind us as swiftly as they could. Even above the thunder of the horses' hooves, I could hear the dull pounding of their feet on the earth.

The second ditch was deeper than the first, its sides steeper. Several horses stumbled, throwing their riders; a few more balked at the climb and fell back. But all the rest cleared the ditch and charged ahead.

Seeing that our approach was not greatly hindered by the ditch, the barbarians leapt over the wall and flew down the hill to meet us. The steep downward slope lent force to their blows and let them inflict wounds more easily. This they did.

Many fell in the first assault. Difficult terrain and the ferocity of the foe conspired to bring good men down to their deaths. Thus was our first foray turned back.

At the rim of the upper ditch I reformed my division. Quickly scanning the higher slopes, I saw that the other divisions had fared no better. All along the hillside we were being forced back.

Upon my cry, the a/a charged once more.

This time we let the foemen hurl themselves at us. We held back at the last and they plunged headlong onto our spears. It was a simple trick, but it worked laudably well. The barbarians learned quickly enough and reeled back – leaving hundreds dead and wounded upon the ground.

Still, though we pushed after them, our horses foundered on the higher slope. We fell back once again and the enemy pursued us, striking wildly at our backs. Upon reaching the bank of the upper ditch, we were met by the footmen charging up from below.

I gave command of the division to Owain, and rode quickly to Arthur. 'It is no good,' I told him. 'We cannot carry an attack up here – it is too steep and there are too many of them.'

Arthur saw that I spoke the plain truth. 'It is as I feared. Very well, save the horses. We may need them later. We will carry the attack on foot.' His blue eyes searched the wall line looming above us, and his finger pointed. That place there – do you see it?'

"That low place? I see it.'

'We will centre the attack there. Follow me!'

I hurried back to my division and passed on Arthur's order. Rhys signalled the dismount and a moment later we were racing back up the hillside, scrambling over the rocks, falling, picking ourselves up, running on.

The enemy saw that we had abandoned our horses and took this as a good omen for them. They raised their evil screams with renewed vigour, and danced their frenzied war dances along the top of the wall. They were frothing mad with blood lust.

As soon as we came within range the enemy loosed their throwing axes at us. We threw pur shields before us and stumbled on. Some among us picked up the hateful axes and hurled them back. More than one barbarian was killed with his own weapon.

The sun had risen higher and I could feel its warmth on my back. My blood pounded hot in my veins, and I drew the cool morning air deep into my lungs. It was a good day for a battle, I thought, and then remembered that in numbers and position Cerdic boasted the advantage.

The place Arthur had found proved the only weak place that side of the wall. He had chosen the eastern side for assault because the incline was easiest, but the enemy realized this, too, and had built up the wall on the eastern side. The low place Arthur saw was a section that had been hastily repaired and some of the stone had fallen in when the first foemen swarmed over.

We drove towards this place, all of us, our force becoming a spearhead to thrust up under the enemy's defences and into his heart.

It nearly worked.

But there were simply too many barbarians, and the incline too steep. Though we stood to our work like woodmen felling trees, we could make no headway. Picti, Cruithne, Angli and Scoti, Saecsen and Frisian and Jutes… there were too, too many. We could not come near the wall.

For every pace we advanced, the enemy pushed us back two. For every foeman we killed, three more sprang up before us. Our warriors were being dragged down by the enormous crush of the enemy host. They rushed down upon us, hacking with their cruel axes: eyes wild, mouths twisted, arms swinging like flails.

But our warriors had fought barbarians before and were not unnerved. We lowered our heads and stood to our grim toil. And the battle settled into its awkward, lurching rhythm.