"Sigh."
Tristran sat in his usual corner of the tavern. This time, however, it was broad daylight, not the customary time when the knights, soldiers, and civilians ordinarily gathered to eat, drink and be drunk.
Today was the day, it had been decided some time ago, that was Tristran's birthday, or at least the day of celebrating his birthday.
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When the Romans collected him from his tribe to start his service to Rome, in typical Roman record-keeping fashion he had been asked to state his date of birth.
"I was born in the 225th year after the end of the reign of the tribe shaman, Halanus, who transformed the marriage ritual, allowing a man and a woman who were well-distant from the village or a tribal elder to be able to … " This was how Tristran stated his date of birth as this was how he knew it. The tribal elder of his village had made this known at Tristran's naming ceremony.
"Stupid Sarmatian. You must give me the year, and name of the month and date as determined in the Roman form. Now, what is your date of birth?
Tristran's mother stepped up and offered as his birth date the only Roman date she knew. It was one her husband, Tristran's father, had mentioned in a story about one of his experiences during his service at the Wall. She mentally added four five-year braid cycles to the date she gave to make it sound right, that it would make Tristran seem old enough to be the boy the Romans saw standing in front of them.
The Roman record keeper looked at her skeptically, trying to work out the truth of the date. Not the brightest of record keepers, he was simply the only one who could be spared during this particular Sarmatian round up.
"Sound about right. Why couldn't you just say so in the first place, boy?" He spat the words out at Tristran.
The information gathered about the boys brought to the Wall for service was put into the official records at the fort where each knight-to-be was assigned. No one paid any further attention to it.
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Except for Arthur, at Cilurnum. When he was officially appointed the knights' commander, he collected this data from their official records. He wanted to honor each knight on the date given as his birth date and so began the tradition of the knights celebrating birthdays.
Most of the dates were wrong, of course. But no one cared as each "birthday" was a reason for celebrating another year's survival at the Wall. As the years passed, the number of celebrations diminished, making each remaining one all the more special.
Whenever possible, the "birthday" was observed with food and drink, a contest of the birthday knight's choosing, perhaps target throwing or a gambling game, and plenty of wenching.
Sometimes the knight's birthday fell on a day when the knights were on a mission. He was given his due acknowledgement of this special day but all knew the celebrating would have to wait until they returned to the fort. If the birthday knight failed to return to the fort alive, the others held the celebration in his honor anyway. Then they had the burial and returned to the tavern for the customary observance of his life. This observance appeared, curiously enough, much like birthday celebration; no one could call the knights imaginative in their ways of celebrating and observing.
Tristran always managed to be out scouting on the day that was considered his birthday. He believed in celebrating the birth of the child, but why celebrate the return of that day every year? There would be no end to the celebrations of all the anniversaries of the births in the tribe. Why waste time on something that came to everyone in their turn?
In his tribe, there was a record of the year of the birth of each male child so that he could keep track of the five year intervals for earning warrior braids. That was something worth celebrating, earning a warrior braid. Tristran knew the true year of his birth and kept track so he knew when he was eligible to earn another braid. But to act foolishly just to celebrate the anniversary of the actual day he was born was a waste of time and energy, not forgetting it was an inaccurate date at that.
Unfortunately for Tris, Arthur had been reviewing the service records of the knights under his command. He saw the pattern of this particular knight's coincidental absence from the fort each year it was his "birthday." Feeling this was unjust, unfair, and unacceptable, Arthur would make sure that this year Tristran would not be out scouting and would finally get his overdue celebration.
Of course, all the knights knew Tris would not appreciate this special day of celebration. So they thought long and hard about what to do for him. The usual ideas of merriment were suggested, along with a few more macabre ones which some thought would fit Tristran's disposition.
Finally, a suggestion was made which met with the approval of all the knights. It took a lot a planning and sneaking around, but they all felt it was well worth the effort.
"I can't wait to see the expression on his face when he sees what we have done for him!" exclaimed Galahad.
Gawain retorted, "And just how are you going to tell that his expression has changed?"
Silence was the reply.
Tristran, being Tristran, knew what was going on. He tried to talk Arthur into letting him go to Castra exploratorum, the Fort of the Scouts, to make a report on woad activity north of the Wall and to the east, but Arthur refused permission. None of Tris's requests or suggestions for missions was accepted by Arthur.
"Not this year Tristran. You will not get out of the celebration of your birthday this time," thought Arthur, smugly.
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Dreading leaving his rooms in the knights' barracks that morning, Tristran slinked along to the tavern for breakfast, trying every way he knew to not be seen.
As he reached his usual spot, he heard a sound that caused him great pain.
"Surprise!"
The knights emerged from behind the side wall of the tavern where they had been hiding, shouting at the top of their lungs. They all clapped him on his shoulders and wished him a happy birthday. Dagonet put a bundle on the table top and pushed it towards Tristran. And just as quickly as they had appeared, the knights disappeared, leaving Tris alone in his usual corner. A good thing, too, as he was considering applying to the knights the same treatment he applied to an invading party of woads.
He took the bundle left by Dagonet and carefully opened it. Inside was a new herb and wound repair kit. He had lost his kit during the last battle and had not thought it necessary to put a new one together. Too much trouble just for some simple wound care. His lack of such a kit as each knight carried had not gone unnoticed by Dagonet and it was at his suggestion that the knights put a new one together for Tris.
After giving Tris time to inspect the kit, Dag returned to him.
"It contains some new herbs I have learned of for staunching blood flow and some new needles made of yew which are smoother and finer to use than the other ones," Dag told him. "We figured the best way to celebrate your birthday was to help you reach the next one."
Dagonet turned and left the tavern. Other customers began to drift in for their breakfast.
The day Tristran had dreaded for so long had arrived. And while the expression on his face did not change, a small sigh escaped from his lips. A sigh of relief, a sigh of appreciation for the consideration that his brothers-in-arms had showed him on this day.
"Sigh."