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trying to crush Arthur and reared up to its full height, nearly throwing me off. But I wrapped my legs around its neck and swiftly drew Odysseos’ dagger. Plunging it into the back of its neck at the base of the thick skull, I hacksawed madly, searching for the spinal column.
    Below me I saw Arthur, on his feet now, plunging Excalibur into the beast’s exposed bellyagain and again, working madly, frenziedly, spattered with the dinosaur’s dark blood again and again.
    My blade found the spinal cord at last and cut it. The monster collapsed, nearly crushing Arthur as it fell.
    I slid off its back and tumbled to the grassy ground, exhausted, gasping.
    Arthur stood blinking at the dead carcass for a few moments, then raised both arms over his head and screamedan exultant victory cry at the distant moon. It was an eerie sight: the young warrior bathed in the beast’s blood, holding his sword and shield aloft and shrieking like a banshee. Beside him the dead “dragon” lay, a mountain of scaly flesh, teeth, and claws.
    “Did you see me, Orion?” he called triumphantly as he hurried over to where I lay. “Did you see me kill it?”
    Slowly I pulled myself upto a sitting position. The dagger was still in my hand, but Arthur paid no notice to such a puny weapon.
    He brandished Excalibur in the night air. “I must have struck its heart,” he said, bubbling with excitement. “With this steel I can conquer anything!”
    I smiled inwardly. Arthur had found his steel; not merely a sword, but the inner steel that would one day make him king of the Britons. IfI could keep him alive that long.
    I could sense Aten scowling angrily at me. He wanted Arthur removed from this timeline, and he would do all he could to work his will. And punish me for defying him.
    All I really wanted was to spend the eternities with Anya. But for now, I was at Arthur’s side, ready to battle men and gods to protect him.

 
    CHAPTER TWO
    The Bretwalda
    1
    Three days after we returned to Amesbury, with Excalibur belted at Arthur’s side, a large band of Saxons made camp outside the fort. The next day they were joined by others. Day after day their numbers grew and we sat inside the fort. Arthur seemed uncertain of what he should do.
    One evening I looked out over the parapet of the fort’s flimsy palisade and watchedthe campfires of the Saxon invaders dotting the twilight landscape like a thousand angry red eyes. As far as the hilly horizon they stretched, more of them each night.
    “They’ve never done this before,” whispered Arthur, standing grimly beside me. I heard bewilderment and deep foreboding in his hushed voice.
    “What are they waiting for?” grumbled Sir Bors, standing on Arthur’s other side. “Whydon’t they attack?”
    “Each night their numbers grow,” Arthur murmured, staring transfixed at the Saxon campfires. “Their leader, Aelle, calls himself Bretwalda now—king of Britain.”
    “Hmph,” Bors snorted.
    “Other barbarian tribes are joining his host: South Saxons, West Saxons, Jutes, Angles—they’ve all sworn their allegiance to Aelle.”
    We stayed hemmed up inside Amesbury fort for nearly twoweeks. Usually the barbarians raided a village or farmstead and ran away before the British defenders could find them. But now they were camped outside this hilltop fort, with more and more of the raiders joining the besiegers every day. These were not mere raiders, they were a powerful army, under the leadership of Aelle, who obviously intended to destroy Amesbury fort and its defenders.
    I lookedup into the darkening sky. A fat gibbous moon grinned mockingly at me, while the Swan and the Eagle rode low off in the west. My namesake constellation of Orion was climbing above the eastern horizon. Autumn chill was in the air, yet the barbarian invaders showed no sign of heading back to their settlements on the coast and leaving Britain a season of peace and healing.
    Wheezing old Merlin joinedthe three of us up on the parapet,