Morning came as dark clouds hung heavy over the hills and dark valleys leading to Atha Righ, Patrick stood lost in thought as the grass whipped around his legs. Sudden beams of sunlight assaulted the landscape before retreating back behind the clouds, rain would soon come, Patrick thought to himself as his men broke camp, the faint sounds drifting up before being stolen away by the stiff breeze. They would catch the Avalon in the valleys before they reached Atha Righ, one battle to end the Avalon’s dreams of conquest or so Patrick hoped, he had gathered every able man he could and he would need them if the rumors were right. A single spy had returned from the lands of the Avalon, having sent five, the man reported that the King could be leading the Avalon in this invasion. King Henry, Patrick’s hands tightened on the grip of his two handed sword, the tip resting in the thick grass, to kill the king would end the Avalon’s incursions for years to come. Time to move, he thought as the clouds finally started to pound the ground with fat drops of rain.
Henry King of the Avalon rode next to Gawain of Glastonbury, the rain hammering down on the men making it hard to hear what Gawain was saying,
‘My lord we will pass through the next set of hills and down a valley, which will bring us out just near Atha Righ. The Gaelic will surly piss their breeches when they find themselves facing us.’ Henry just nodded, already knowing the path they would take from the maps he’d studied the night before. He just hoped the damn Gaelic would actually notice them in this rain, the men who trudged by were nothing more than hazy shapes. Gawain continued speaking,
‘The men have already build ladders and will be ready to storm the walls as soon as we arrive. This time tomorrow my lord we will be sitting in the halls of Atha Righ drinking wine and having our way with their women.’
‘There will be no rape or murder of the innocents; we will need the population to work for us not against us. Am I understood?’ asked Henry, his voice cutting clearly through the downpour,
‘Yes my lord.’ Murmured Gawain, disappointment clear on his face. Henry paid no regard to this, he thought the future and wouldn’t let a few moment of stupidity ruin the chance for the Avalon to rule the isles. The hills appeared out of the gloom before them as the long line of men began to move forward, soon the Gaelic will taste Avalon Steel and be crushed under the heels of his soldiers, despite the rain Henry was looking forward to this campaign.