One month after the previous chapter.

Referring to Hastings, who was beheaded on an unfinished wooden platform (p306-307).

Such a person existed in our history, and was similarly charged with attacking Richard (and supporting Henry Tydder).

The eggshell appeared, apparently as a symbol of rebellion again Edward, on p200-201. The medallions, of course, were what Hywel was investigating in Wales.

Consistent with our history.

This implies that Henry Tydder was Owain Tydder's son, which is either an inconsistency or a confusion -- it skips a generation. In our history, Owain's children included Edmund and Jasper. It was Edmund who died after fathering Henry, who was then raised by Jasper.

(Jasper Tudor, incidentally, married a sister of Rivers.)

Hywel's hesitation on "raised the boy" may be significant. Hywel grew up in Wales, and knew about the hidden places there (see p243). It is possible that he knew, or even helped, Jasper and the young Henry.

But it is also possible that Hywel is merely thinking of his own parents, who died on the run somewhere in Wales, and left him to be raised by an innkeeper.

This statement leans on two facets of Hywel's boyhood. First, that he once met Glyn Dŵr's son Meredydd ap Owain. At the time, Hywel took Meredydd for a wizard (see p13); he has now clearly dismissed that notion.

And second, that Hywel is himself related to Glyn Dŵr -- but through the famous wizard's sister, not his children. (See p19.)

In our history, Colyngbourne was not put to death solely for political satire. He had been sending secret messages to Henry Tydder, discussing how he could bring an army into England.

Tyrell decided not to execute Rivers, as we saw on p334. And the answer to Hywel's question is, approximately, "in our history." Without Rivers, Richard would have had no good explanation for the disappearance of the Princes... although the difference is more of tone than of fact. Richard became king in our history regardless.

(But see p374, later.)

Although the text layout does not make it clear, this is the beginning of a new scene. It is several days later; Hywel and Cynthia have departed for Mary's cottage.

Note that Tydder will be landing in Pembroke, in Wales (as he did in our history). Cynthia and Hywel are therefore heading towards him.

The army they have discovered is not Tydder's army -- Tydder's men would not be carrying rusty weapons. The explanation...

...lies with the medallions, which have been influencing the Welsh population.

Hywel and Cynthia were looking for the medallions on p245. (Although that did not describe trading them -- it only said that Hywel carried several.)

We discover that Hywel did have a good idea what the medallions were, back in chapter 9. He was acting, as he always acts, in the most indirect way possible: weakening the spell. (Or perhaps altering it, so that "home" becomes a secondary imperative under "follow.")

Perhaps an allusion to the phrase "Who will help the widow's son?" in Freemason lore.

Cynthia is asking about what Hywel said on p353 -- whether his altered medallions did this. They did not.

"Them" seems to be the Jeshites.

The boy's grandfather's day would have been around 1430. That implies that the "French wars" were the Hundred Years' War (the tail-end of it, anyway) -- Henry VI's struggle to hold on his territory in France, which was being retaken by Charles VII. (This was well after Owain Glyn Dŵr's rebellion had failed, so Welsh soldiers would have been fighting for England.)

In our history, Charles was famously aided by Joan of Arc. We presume that this was so in TDW as well, and that Joan was still a Christian. This gives the villagers a basis for their prejudice against Jeshites.

Recall that Hywel had charmed Mary's roof to be fireproof (p236).

The people of Llangorse were not openly hostile to Mary when we first met them (p233). And there seems to be some lingering resentment from previous generations (p354-355). But the sudden onset of mob violence must be the medallions again.

Duchess Cecily's sword-cane (see p321).

Cynthia is apparently considering Mary in terms of the hidden blade. The villagers came to assault Mary (and burn down her cottage), but she had strengths they did not expect.

Note that it is not Hywel who stops Cynthia. Mary once stopped Cynthia from striking a child (p234). So it may be her memory, her magic, or some remnant of her presence that holds Cynthia back from violence now.

The entrapment of the villagers recalls Hywel's story of Rhiannon, on p247.

The villagers have crucified Mary, in obvious mockery of her religion.

Mary, like Christ at his death, blesses the people who are executing her. But this is a muddy and ambiguous reflection of her faith. The villagers would have died if Cynthia and Hywel had not come; it is already too late for the one who drowned (p355), and another has likely lost his hand.

One could take Mary's death as a constrast with Jesus; she did not forgive the villagers. But then, Jesus did not say "I forgive you," but "Father, forgive them." And if Mary did not explicitly ask that of Cynthia, she did leave the task in Cynthia's hand.

The Battle of Mount Badon was a major victory of the British people over the Saxons. It was later attributed to King Arthur; this may be the battle referred to as "Arthur's Triumph" (p3).

What this has to do with the (French) province of Brittany is unclear. (Brittany has of course been held by Britain at various times through history, but the site of Mount Badon, though disputed, is certainly in Britain.)

One possible connection is a story in Procopius's History of the Wars, which refers to emigration from Britain to France.

(Some confusion has clearly trickled in; earlier in this section Procopius discusses "Brittia" and "Britain" as separate places.)

Hywel referred to the mobilization of Welsh villagers as "the dragon." (Or rather, he referred to their leavings as "dragon spoor" -- p352). Here we find that he discussed the matter with Richard and the others, in an offstage explanation.

The Welsh army is gaining men as the medallions draw them in, but losing them as Hywel's countermeasures take hold (see p353). The medallions are still more effective than not; the estimated total, ten thousand, is roughly twice what Tydder had at Bosworth in our history.

It is now the eve of the battle, which occurred on August 22, 1485 in our history.

The date in TDW history is harder to determine; the last milestone we were given was the beginning of the chapter (p349.) Since then there has been time for Hywel and Cynthia to ride to Llangorse and back. (At speed, as Rivers notes.)

We may also take a cue from our history. Tydder sailed on August 1 of 1485, landed on August 7; Richard got the news on the 11th, and immediately started gathering his followers for the battle. If Tydder follows the same schedule in Dragon history, then Richard gets the news more quickly (three days after Tydder sails, on p352). The battle is then eighteen days after that. It is probably the end of March, 1480.

See p355. The influence of the medallions is not just the formation of an army, but the emotions that lie behind it. Whether one connotes those as patriotism, nationalism, or xenophobia, the outcome is both destructive and self-destructive -- as magic always is.

Hywel repeats what he has been saying for the entire story, that magic is ultimately a futile path. The alternative -- acting through simple effort or natural science -- has also been mentioned (p170, for example). But this is the first time Hywel has offered it in an purely positive light: humans can succeed at anything, and without unnatural aid.

This is not an unmixed blessing, naturally. Hywel is saying that such an army -- misguided, xenophobic, breaking the peace and tearing its people away from the country's livelihood -- could have been raised by fraud and exhortation, instead of by magic. Perhaps Ford had examples in mind as he wrote this.

Ddraig Goch: Welsh, "Red Dragon."

Hywel refuses to act overtly, as he did on p353, and for the same reason: opposing the spell will make it stronger.

There is something here of the idea that fighting evil with evil is useless -- descending to that level only perpetuates the problem. But Hywel's description does not quite convey that, because it has no moral judgement. The Dragon spell is not evil; or rather, the aspect of it which he speaks of -- the power of belief -- is not evil. It is meeting conviction with conviction that intensifies the situation, by setting both sides in their opposition.

(And is that a morally neutral worldview? Or is it chaotic, if not evil, in the way it perpetuates conflict?)

This was the legend that Hywel reflected on when he found the first medallion. See p235.

Jasper Tydder was mentioned on p350.

The lineup is consistent with the Battle of Bosworth of our history. Oxford was the most experienced leader on Tydder's side, and was the de facto commander.

(The "venom" derives from Oxford's history; see p361. Oxford had also schemed against Edward a few times, with Warwick and possibly Clarence.)

This is machine-gun fire, more or less. If Gregory had enough artillery to employ across the battlefield (as opposed to a single spot), Bosworth would turn into something out of World War 1.

Note that this zone is the "hot enough fire" which will drive Tydder's army -- not the trap they will be driven into. That has not yet been described.

Lying flat is, of course, the least awful position to be in when in such circumstances.

In our history, Lord Stanley did complain of illness (not specifically sweating sickness). Possibly he used this as an excuse to hold back from supporting Richard.

The Battle of Barnet (1471), one of the "two bad battles" Hywel mentioned on p147.

This desertion partially explains Rivers's sneer on p359-360.

• The Battle of Barnet, John Warkworth. Chronicle (London: 1839), via Hillsdale College

In fact the final fight will be on foot; see p373.

The fire and trap discussed on p360. The box is clearly another machina infernalis (p222).

Hywel said on p359 that the Dragon was only a banner, but would become real if it were met on its own terms. It is certainly more than a banner now; so something may have happened on Richard's side, despite Hywel's warning.

However, the Dragon is also now being driven directly by the Byzantine wizard. All the effects we will see are typical of magic (although powered by the enormous force of belief available to the wizard). In particular, the Dragon looks like an illusion, and not even a well-controlled one; the soldiers under its feet are not trampled.

(No doubt the form changes because the Dragon's constituent Welshmen have widely varying images of dragon-ness.)

He is scrying in his glass eye again, as he did on p257. But it is not the same one; he has traded the Venetian glass eye for an English one. Presumably this is for symbolic reasons -- Venice is under Byzantine control (see p72), and Hywel is defending England now.

The Byzantine wizard recalls the Wizard of Oz, though less by his appearance than by his situation: a small, balding man pulling the strings behind the scenes.

Then again, for that, he could as well be Ford himself.

The need for the formal title "Fachritter," and its limitations, were mentioned on p271. Gregory has enough rank to be respected, but not enough to command.

This is Dimi's viewpoint, and it has swerved abruptly. He is back to thinking of Gregory as merely a vampire, and he is repudiating the trap he helped plan (p360).

One must suspect magic influencing Richard's army, and more subtly than throwing back cannonballs.

(And in that light, Richard's impatience in this scene is also suspect.)

"Ground mortars," if it is not obvious, are land mines. This is the nature of Gregory's trap, which is now counting down.

Earlier, the dragon's eyes -- plural -- were described as steady and constant. Now Hywel is seeing one eye; a reflection of himself, in some sense. And he too is now having doubts about his earlier thoughts (p359). We presume that the spell (p364) is influencing Hywel.

The spell affects Richard as well...

...and everyone else on the field.

Referring to the tournament in which Richard and Francis Lovell were Balin and Balan, and where Rivers killed Lovell. (See p277.)

Note that while the magic is affecting everyone's judgement, there is no indication that Richard is confused about where or when he is. He has referred to Dimi as his brother before.

Cynthia referred to Anne's illness as "sweating sickness" (p360), but it is clearly more than a fever. The spell must be affecting Anne much more strongly than the others.

Goedendag: Dutch, "good day."

Dimi is obviously daydreaming of his boyhood homes in both France and Greece. But the vision is more specific: it is a royal villa, with Dimi (by implication) the ruler.

He may specifically be thinking of the ride to Seigny (p49), which he halted.

It is Richard and his men charging through the minefield, as we have just seen.

Not all the way to zero, but within two minutes of it.

We have now seen effects of the spell on each of our characters (except Cynthia). As we will learn (p371), it is an impulse of reckless or single-minded striving -- one goal or desire overriding all sense, context, or greater vision. So Hywel refrains from using magic; Dimi is caught in thoughts of becoming Emperor; Richard is heading towards personal revenge; Anne imagines giving her husband a new heir; Gregory sees people as nothing but blood and physics.

See p12 and p246, respectively.

This choice is specifically a rejection of Hywel's attitude on p365, and so of the effects of the spell.

Lord Stanley's illness was mentioned on p360. As the sweating is an indication of magic afflicting Anne (p366), it should be the same for Lord Stanley; he is being influenced to stay out of the fight.

(But, on the other hand, William Stanley changes sides without any sign of illness. But, on a third hand, several of the characters so far have been influenced without any physical sign.)

This implies multiple levels of confusion. Dimi has not yet realized that William Stanley is charging Richard's flank -- he thinks the Byzantine mercenaries are the target. But he was just imagining himself as a King (p367), and admiring the Byzantines, as a result of the spell. So Dimi must be attempting to destroy Stanley's men, support the Byzantines, and (presumably) go on to attack Richard and seize the crown.

His men, not knowing any of this -- and possibly having seen Stanley's Tydder-red armbands -- are simply charging in support of Richard. But Dimi has not yet understood the significance of their battle cry.

(Dimi is sufficiently trapped in his own head that he thinks he is riding Luna, the horse of his childhood. He is actually riding Olwen, the horse Richard gave him on p204.)

At this point Dimi's wits catch up with him, and he breaks from the spell's influence. He also rejects the doubts that he has held since p52 and p53, when Philip and Iphigenia tried to convince him that his father had wanted him on the throne of the Empire.

Several wrongs add up to a right, at least from the point of view of Richard's army. Stanley's men are pushed away from their original target -- Richard's flank -- and instead collide with the Byzantine mercenaries, whom they were trying to support.

See p227. And note that it is not duty, but purpose, that Dimi has recovered.

A ground mortar (p365). A wire-wrapped one would be a splinter or fragmentation mine.

(Note that Dimi is thinking of his horse by her right name now.)

It is not just Dimi, but Richard and the entire melee who are on the mined north slope.

Silver-match seems to be a kind of fuse for firearms. I cannot find any such term in use in our history. ("Black-match," in contrast, is simply string impregnated with black powder.)

Most likely, silver-match refers to magnesium. Magnesium metal makes a wonderful fuse, burning with a blinding white light, but it was not discovered in our history until 1808.

See p323, p330, but primarily p341-342. Gregory sees Dimi now, and emerges from the spell; neither blood nor physics is sufficient for him...

...and he has rejected suicide as an end.

Supports the notion that the magic, at least in some cases, manifests as the sweating fever (see p368).

Rivers defines the nature of the spell out loud -- see p368.

The true answer, on p366, was that Rivers wanted to charge to Cynthia's aid.

But he has never admitted to being in love with Cynthia (see p340, p362), and he would certainly insist that his highest loyalty is to Richard. Cynthia will not disillusion him... or, knowing that she is not in love with him, she will not encourage him.

Rivers thinks Cynthia means that Hywel protected her. But she is certainly thinking of Mary. (The gesture may refer to the moment that Mary seized her hand -- p234 -- and the recollection or intervention on p355.)

The nature of the warding is not described. It could be a general blessing that Mary offered while helping heal Cynthia (p239), or a result of interacting with her death-blessing (p355). But it is likely a simpler matter: Cynthia knows what she is. When the sorcerer began his spell, she was in a field hospital (p362), and no conflicting part was elsewhere.

The one push in the right place that comprises magic: see p18.

For want of a shoe, the wizard loses his concentration. Which echoes the traditional rhyme:

• For want of a nail the shoe was lost;
• For want of a shoe the horse was lost;
• For want of a horse, the rider was lost; ...

The story generally told about Bosworth is that Richard died for want of a horse. This wizard is not a literal rider, but he still has toes of clay.

The image is Oroboros, the snake devouring itself.

As we know (p254, p345) the cost of magic is not just belief or intent. It costs in real energy, meaning people's lives. In this case the cost is spread over many, rather than draining the entire life of the caster (as on p170 and p344).

The symptoms of a heart attack, as Hywel recognizes.

The Byzantine wizard must have died -- either drained in the dragon's collapse, or killed in the consequent fighting. Now Hywel is the only wizard present to make use of the power, which is otherwise spending itself on nothing.

The last line of the scene has a wonderful shift in tense, from past to present. It pulls the reader from the distance of speculation ("the dragon could...") hard into the immediacy of Hywel's choice.

The "Richard unhorsed" image (see p372) is literal as well. (Although the TDW Richard is not trying to find a replacement.)

Although the text does not say so, Dimi's reply implies that Richard is wild, barely able to recognize his friends. On the other hand, he readjusts quickly.

Dimi, of course, has already rejected this temptation; see p369.

Rivers is recalling the legend noted on p277.

And this realizes the answer to Hywel's earlier question "If Anthony Rivers were dead, where would we be now?" (See p351.) It is Rivers's spear that ends Tydder's invasion.

Dimi, in the meantime, manages exactly the same eucatastrophic confusion as on p369. He mistakes friend and foe, faces the wrong way, and manages to trip up the real enemy just enough to give someone else the necessary opening. (There Hywel, here Rivers.)

A gallantry that says much more of Dimi than it does of Rivers. (Mind you, Rivers lives up to this standard.)

Dimi, losing consciousness, sees the remnant of the dragon in the sky (p372). He perceives the imagery from the Invocation of Julian, as read at Cosmas's funeral (p50); he prepares for death.

The light in the sky echoes the solar phenomenon that heralded Edward's reign (see p184).

The crimson rose was the badge of the House of Lancaster (to which both Henry VI and Henry Tydder belonged.) The "Wars of the Roses" were thus named for the red rose of Lancaster and the white rose of York.

(Contrast the young Hywel's vision of Constantinople on p16.)

Hywel does not appear to be dead. So he was willing to use the Empire's power on his own heart (p372-373).

(Presumably just to relieve the congestive heart failure. Creating an artificial heart would be beyond his minimalist ethos of magic, and rendering himself heartless would be thematically absurd.)

Latin: "King Richard III, Dragon... Dragonslayer?" "Retribution of [upon] Dragons."

The line "...the kingdom was saved" echoes the rhyme noted earlier (p372):

• ...For want of a rider the battle was lost;
• For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.

Dimi took Tydder's sword in his side, which would likely pierce a lung. ("Like a sudden breath of cold air," p374.) Rivers's medical knowledge (p254-255) has saved him.

A teaching chair at Oxford was the position Rivers offered Cynthia back in Wales (p255). And Cambridge was where Richard (jokingly) offered Colyngbourne a position (p350).

The most important question of the book, by the rules of fantasy, is whom Cynthia winds up with. In fact, she has brushed by Rivers, and before that Dimi and even Gregory -- and left an impression on each of them -- but if the question must have an answer, it is Hywel. And that is not a romance they will pursue, because of what he and she are separately driven to do.

(An earlier passage compared the Empire with a rapist, damaging everyone's capability for love; see p340.)

Hywel and Gregory continue on their enterprise.

The scene is a passing contrast to the end of chapter 7 (p196), where Dimi, Gregory, Tyrell, and Richard rode off as noisily as possible, to (pointlessly) fight Scotsmen on the border.

And the last phrase pulls the reader into the narrative, by removing everyone else from it. There is no one in the scene to see Hywel and Gregory ride away.