Who, or what, is the mysterious Pendragon? For over 1,500 years, that name has haunted the British soul, hinting at a truth about our ancestral identity. While at the same time, the shadowy figure of Arthur has taunted linguists, archaeologists, and historians alike, defying identification. For the first time, a work of scholarly fiction draws together each piece of evidence to drag both the Pendragon and Arthur out of the Dark Ages and into the light of discovery.
Since graduating with a degree in chemistry, Mike Weatherley worked for twenty-five years in the drugs industry, helping to manufacture—among other things—Viagra. His hobbies include classical music, gardening and tennis. He always had a flair for creative writing, in the form of poetry and song-lyrics printed in biology magazines at university, and later in palaeontology magazines on the subject of fossils (another hobby).
A lonely grey pencil of smoke drifted slowly upwards to write its sad story on the pale blue canvas overhead. Beneath lay the still smouldering remains of the east wing of Ambrosius’s family farm. The thirty-year-old decurion had arrived at the head of his cavalry squadron shortly before – but two hours too late – to the scene of his own private hell. The only thing he and his men had been in time to do was help the surviving household workers douse the flames, preventing them from spreading to the remainder of the ‘L’-shaped building, making it safe – at last – to go inside.