The Pendragon's Challenge (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 7) by Sarah Woodbury Page A

any use against the Northumbrians, since it’s purpose was to feed the multitude, as Christ had done, and the moment the blade had pierced Jesus’s side, it became useless as a weapon. Taliesin had borrowed it during his recent journey and used it often.
    At one time, Rhiann might have had the chess piece on her, since Mabon had given it to her, but she said it repulsed her, and thus had entrusted it to Taliesin.
    Cade shook his head. “I will say this only once more: I am leaving, and I’m taking my people with me. This is a fool’s fight, and one you can’t win. If you choose to lose your life over a Treasure, that is your decision—and your delusion—not mine.” He spun on his heel and headed back down the hall, the others following in his wake.
    He had just put out a hand to open the doors, because the two men who guarded them weren’t moving, when Penda called, “Wait!”
    Cade stopped and looked back.
    Penda was loping towards him. “All right, all right. You win. We will all go.”
    But then a bell tolled above their heads. Hearing it, Cade pushed open the doors, and everyone who’d been in the hall spilled into the courtyard. Cade crossed it to reach the main gateway to the street.
    As he stepped out from the colonnade, Peada reined in amidst a small company of men. “They come! They come!”
    “How many and how far?” Penda moved to hold the bridle of his son’s horse.
    “You can see their banners.” Peada pointed north and then swung his arm to indicate the east as well. “Another quarter of an hour and they’ll surround us completely.”
    Cade cursed and turned on Penda. “You and your pride will be the death of us all.”
    Penda firmed his chin. “I always meant to stand and fight.”
    “Are your men ready? Have you prepared oil and fire? Where are your archers?”
    “I have them,” Penda said defensively. “They’re on the walls.”
    Cade narrowed his eyes as he looked at the Mercian king. To become an expert archer took long practice from childhood, and while all Welshmen high and low were so trained, most Saxons never valued archery enough to put in that kind of effort. If Penda was telling the truth, he deserved some credit for planning ahead. “We cannot win with the numbers we have now. You do realize this?”
    “I am prepared to die for Mercia.”
    “Well, I am not.” Cade spat out the last word.
    “From what we saw earlier, they’re predominantly on foot, my lord,” Hywel said in Welsh in an undertone. “We should make use of the little time we do have.”
    Cade turned to Dafydd. “Take Angharad, all our horses, and whatever of Penda’s strays who will go with you, and go now through the southern gate across the Dee to Caer Gwrlie. It is defensible, and your arm will keep it so.”
    “My lord, no! I will stand and fight with you!”
    “If we wait any longer, it will be too late. It’s already too late for the bulk of Penda’s men.” Cade gestured to Dafydd’s sword. “That is enough to defend your retreat all by itself.”
    “What about you? How will you escape without horses?” Angharad said.
    “We’ll take the western tunnel,” Cade said.
    Dafydd subsided, nodding, but when Cade turned back to Penda, his brow was furrowed with puzzlement. “What tunnel?”
    Cade studied his uncle, surprised that he didn’t know. “The Romans built tunnels under every city and house in Wales—maybe throughout the whole empire. The tunnel from Chester runs from just inside the western wall under the river and to the watchtower on the other side.”
    “What watchtower?” Penda spread his hands wide. “We know of no such tunnel.”
    Bedwyr scoffed. “That would be because you were not born a Briton.” He turned to Cade. “My grandfather was a man of Rheged, and one of the last to retreat from Chester before it was overrun by Mercia. He told me where the westward tunnel begins.”
    “Hopefully it hasn’t collapsed due to neglect.” Hywel shot a disgusted look at