Chapter 25:

Dylan left Llangrifrolis riding at the head of his army.  Mihangel, on his pony, rode beside him.  Although Mihangel was only two years-old, he was as large as a five year-old and looked remarkably like Emrys, enough to have been his twin. 

He rode naked.  Not affected by the weather, he never wore clothes, demonstrating to everyone that the God had no genitals.

For the first time, Dylan was going to battle without either Megan or Braith at his side.  She had remained in Llangrifrolis.  She could no longer do magic; and Dylan couldn't risk the mother of a new race by taking her to the scene of a battle.  Not that he was worried.  The God rode at his side.

Lined up on the opposite shores of the straits, the two armies faced each other, but only Mihangel and Cadell could sense the presence of the other army.  The shores were miles apart, too far for a man to see.  "They come," said Mihangel.  Ten thousand golems, loaded onto ships, left the opposite shore.

It was a clear, sunny day, without a cloud in the sky.

Ten thousand golems, thought Dylan.  He remembered that only a hundred had killed five hundred of his men. Although his army was better trained now, than they had been when he'd fought the last battle, still he could expect to lose three for every golem he stopped.  A golem only stopped fighting when his head was lopped off.  No other wound stopped him.

His army couldn't stop the golems.  Only Mihangel could stop them.

Some hours later, Dylan saw the first of the ships on the horizon.  He looked at Mihangel.  If Mihangel was worried, it wasn't evident on his face.  If anything, he wore a slight smile.  Dylan wanted to ask him what he planned to do, but one didn't question the God, and even in the body of a young boy, Mihangel was the God.

Before long, all the ships were in sight.  In less than an hour, they would land.  Mihangel stretched out his hands.  A wind began to blow.  Clouds formed, covering the sun.  The sea became choppy; then the wind blew in earnest -- a mighty wind.  The chop became waves.  They broke against the ships.  First one, then another, foundered, then sank.

Not one ship reached shore.  All ten thousand golems sank to the bottom of the straits.  The clouds dispersed; the winds calmed.  The sea once again became still.

"Now," said Mihangel, "we cross."  He walked across the beach onto the sea, not into the sea, onto it.  He walked on top of the water.  "Follow me," he said to Dylan and the others, "Believe in me, and you will walk on the water as I do.  Lose faith, and you will drown."

Dylan stepped out onto the water.  He, too, stepped onto it, not into it.  The surface of the water was hard, unyielding, as if he were walking on ice, not water.  It was as if the water beneath his feet froze, allowing him to walk over its surface. 

He followed Mihangel and his army followed him; but not all had sufficient faith.  Occasionally, one would doubt and sink, disappearing beneath the surface.  By the time they were in sight of the other shore, he'd lost over five thousand men, those without sufficient faith in the God.

Cadell saw them coming, fifteen thousand armed soldiers, walking across the sea.  When he did, he sacrificed the six boys. 

A fog formed around the army.  The soldiers lost sight of the God, and losing sight of him, doubted. 

Only twelve, those closest to the God -- those with the strongest faith in him -- reached the shore.  Among them were Dylan, Pedr, Steffan, Tomos, and Urien. 

By the time they reached the shore, Cadwell and Heddwynn had fled.  They had lost an army of ten thousand golems.  Dylan had lost his army of twenty thousand men. 

Dylan had won a strategic victory.  There would be no invasion of Anglesey, not for another year or two at least, but Dylan had lost his entire army.  He couldn't recruit another in Anglesey.

He had hoped to attack Merfyn with his army, taking back his kingdom, but he no longer had an army, and without an army, how could he recruit more? 

When he'd come up the southern coast with his army, he'd cut every male, recruiting more men both from those he cut and from already cut slaves.  How could he do the same with only ten men besides himself?

Each town would have walls around it and some soldiers, possibly even golems.  "We've lost our army," he said to Mihangel, "do we go back?"

"No," said Mihangel, "we have no need of an army."  He still wore the same slight smile, as if the loss of the army was of no concern to him. 

"Throw away your weapons," he said, "we go naked and unarmed."

"But --" Dylan started.

Mihangel looked at him.  The look brooked no dissent.   Throwing down his weapons, Dylan stripped off his clothes, nodding at the others to do likewise. 

Eleven -- men now since they were all older than fourteen -- walked naked down the road, accompanied by a small boy.