Long after Arthur lay in a rain-washed grave, long after the legends faded from memory, a new generation defended an old border.
White town in the breast of the wood,
this forever is its wealth:
blood on the face of the grass.
In a dangerous era, an enigmatic poem portrayed a war fugitive wandering her ruined kingdom; an earthen wall transformed enemies into uneasy allies; and a man with a famous name wrote an ambiguous inscription on a memorial stone. All three survived twelve centuries as fragments of a nearly forgotten world.