With the Belgae defeated, and the Durotrages given their freedom, Artur casts his eyes across the sea to the ever-gathering shadows of war. Around him, there is disharmony and discord, with friends having fallen or turned against him. Before him, there is an army more powerful, and more vicious, than any the world has ever seen.
Can he make a stand where so many have fallen? Can he defy a great tide that is set to wash the Dewnan from their lands?
There is little chance for them in battle, and no choice but to fight, so he does the only thing he can do…
Gathering his Company, he joins the Veneti warriors in crossing the Mor Pretani. Whether he is ready yet or not, he has to put aside the suffering of his childhood so that he can confront Caesar’s forces and save his people.
Even with Morlain’s blade and Lancelin’s guidance, it might not be enough. Even with his men’s undying loyalty and the Sword of Menluit in his hand, it might not be enough. But they will stand and they will inspire the legends that will follow and, if this is to be the last page of their story, so be it. For it will be a story well told. A story to inspire. The story of the Dewnan.
