Some people will tell you that riding in a carriage is a luxury, an extravagance, and a comfort to anyone fortunate enough to afford such mode of transportation. Some people don't know what the hell they're talking about. That carriages are the least bit comfortable is a bloody misconception that I feel quite obliged to clear up this very instant. Carriages, on the contrary, are stuffy, claustrophobic little boxes that bounce their passengers up and down and up and down until they quite feel they are about to vomit.
No, give me a horse and saddle any day in the open breeze where I can look forward towards my destination. Thirty years of being cooped up in such manifestations of Roman opulence is enough for anyone to grow weary. At least, those were my thoughts as I was presently jostled about in one such Roman carriage through the forests of an obscure little island called Britain.
My mistress was sleeping with her pretty head resting on the tiny window sill on the carriage's door. Ten years my junior and of a different temper entirely, Jade never complained about anything, not even carriage rides. She endured every inconvenience and discomfort with dignity and forbearance. Even when I was forced to cut her long locks of beautiful hair to disguise her identity as a young nobleman, she uttered not a word.
I reckon her boyish appearance bothered her more than she let on, however, for during our long journey from Rome, I often spied her groping at the back of her neck that was now left exposed to all the elements. She was dressed in nobleman's clothing, as well, which only exaggerated her slightness in frame. The tunic drooped in the shoulders and we had to fasten a belt tightly around her waist in order to hold up the trousers. The costuming was rudimentary at best, but it would have to do. It was of the utmost importance to her safety that her identity be concealed.
Now, I doubt it will come as any shock to you whatsoever that at this moment in time we were assaulted by a band of blue demon warriors. After all, what better screams "Attack me!" than an allegedly luxurious Roman carriage making its way through the forest? This is yet another reason I prefer riding on horseback, but I'm just the maid after all.
My mistress awoke at the first shouts and was quickly upright and alert with weapon in hand, rushing out the carriage door. She had been training in the art of war since the beginning of our long journey and was quick to join in the fighting, despite my urgings to the contrary.
"My lady!" I cried after her, "Get back here this instant!"
But she was already out on the ground engaging one of the heathen warriors in sword play. Obstinate girl! I, on the other hand, had never even once touched the hilt of a sword. I warn you, however, not to underestimate me because of my inexperience. I'm a sturdy woman of solid frame and no man or beast has yet to knock me from my feet.
I presently exited the carriage, planting my feet firmly on the forest floor and daring any of those blue demons to try and lay a hand on me. I also simultaneously kept an eye on my mistress who was holding her own alongside our Roman soldier escorts. She even blended into the crowd with that masculine attire she had on. I had to admit, she wasn't doing too badly considering the minimal training she had received from Marcus Aurelius, the cavalry leader, over the past month.
I hadn't objected to her being trained. After her long recovery from the attempted assassination on her life, Jade needed the security of knowing that she could take care of herself. She therefore began training with every sort of weapon she could get her hands on. She was a determined sort of person who never failed at anything she attempted, so her skills grew quickly with Marcus Aurelius' assistance.
Of course, how convenient it was that at this very moment in time Marcus Aurelius was struck down by a rather nasty looking blue warrior. One minute he was alive and parrying with his sword and the next he was lying prostrate on the ground. Just like that. My confidence in Jade's ability to defend herself started to dwindle.
"Mistress!" I shouted, "Come back to the carriage at once! I mean it! If you don't return by the count of three, I'll drag you back myself. ONE!...TWO!..."
A blue warrior came barreling towards me with axe in hand before I could finish. I narrowed my eyes at him and scowled, placing my hands firmly on my hips. The death stare. It was known to burn some men alive. The warrior hesitated in his attack just long enough for me to hike up my skirt and kick him directly in the shins. He yelped in pain as I proceeded to shove him to the ground.
Well, and so there he was lying on the ground about to reach for that axe again. What was a maid to do? What was I to do to restrain that viscious blue man from attacking me again? I did the only thing I could. I plopped my significant ass right down on his head. That would hold him long enough.
"Will you quit your squirming?" I demanded, planting my weight more securely as the blue man writhed and struggled beneath me. Meanwhile, I scanned my surroundings in frantic search for my mistress. Her father would have my head if she were killed on my watch. I finally spotted her several feet away, clanking swords with another one of those blue heathens. Though she continued to effectively to block his thrusts, I could tell she was growing tired.
"Mistress!" I yelled in the most threatening tone I could muster, "In all that's holy, you put that sword down right now!"
In hindsight, that request was probably less than reasonable. The warrior she was fighting looked pretty bloodthirsty. I was getting concerned, though. She couldn't very well hold him off forever. The warrior knocked the sword from her hand. I shrieked. After we had come so close to our destination, it just wasn't right that her life should be taken now. I quickly sent a prayer up to heaven, pleading to God to save her. She had lived through so much, I thought, it certainly couldn't come down to this. Jade was on her back now and the warrior had his weapon raised over his head ready to strike.
Hallelujah! My prayer was answered in the form of a dark-haired man who sprung from the brush and cut down my mistress's assailant. Two other men promptly joined him, one with a mop of curly dark hair and another with a shaved head and loud voice. The three men proceeded to effortlessly hack down the rest of the blue warriors. They had obviously done this before.
I got to my feet, releasing my blue captive who immediately fled back into the forest. Good riddance. Meanwhile, the latter two of our rescuers presently advanced towards me.
"Are you alright, miss?" asked the curly-haired man, as he slid his twin sword back into their sheaths. He was a cocky bastard, that one. I could tell by his smile.
"Me? Oh, I am fine," I said, waving him off, "But where is---"
I stopped mid-sentence when I saw Jade still lying safely on the ground. She was staring up with wide green eyes at the man who had saved her. Oh no, I thought, not that look. The man had a bit of a barbaric appearance, actually, with dark tousled hair and odd markings on his cheeks. He took little notice of her, however, as he methodically wiped the blood from his curved sword.
"James," I called to my mistress with our previously agreed upon codename. It was still uncertain whether these men could be trusted. Better to be overly cautious until we knew for sure they weren't hired spies or assassins. Upon hearing the codename, Jade promptly rose to her feet and came to stand by my side.
"You're lucky we were riding nearby," said the curly haired one, observing the dead Roman soldiers that lay all around our broken carriage, "We don't normally expect to find Roman caravans out this far."
"Who were those men?" asked Jade in reference to the blue warriors. I gave her a harsh look of warning not to be so trusting.
"Native rebels," the bald one said with a menacing tone, obviously trying to frighten us, "who roast Roman boys like you alive."
"Woads," the curly haired one clarified, "They have a knack for attacking poorly guarded entourages."
"You look like you have a knack for killing them off, though," Jade said. She clearly seemed impressed.
"My young master and I are much obliged to you for your help," I added, giving a curt bow as was proper for my station.
"Oh, it was no trouble at all," the curly haired one said with a charming grin, "Where are you headed?"
I looked at him suspiciously, still not completely confident in the seemingly benevolent nature of these strangers. He appeared to sense my apprehension. "No need to fear us, love," he said, "We are Sarmatian knights."
"That our motto now, is it?" grunted the bald man, "Go on and spread that one around, won't you?"
The tattooed one snorted. It was as close to speech as he got, apparently.
"We serve Rome," the curly haired man explained, rolling his eyes at the bald one, "I am Lancelot and that is Bors and Tristan."
"We are headed to the fort at Hadrian's Wall," I said, "My master must speak with the Roman commander Artorius Castus."
"Who?" Bors asked, "You must have the wrong Island."
"Bors," Lancelot chided sternly.
"What?" Bors said innocently. It was becoming clear that this man did not think much of us Romans.
"As fate would have it," Lancelot said, turning back to me, "We're stationed at Hadrian's Wall under Arthur's command. You can come with us."
"Very well," I said, "But know that my master is very important to Rome and you shall be harshly punished if any harm comes to him."
Lancelot laughed. "One day," he said, "I'd like to meet an unimportant Roman, just to see that one exists."
"Every life is important," Jade spoke up, quoting one of her father's teachings, "Whether Roman or Sarmatian or any other sort of person."
Lancelot raised an eyebrow at her. "Just how well do you know Arthur?" he asked.
Jade furrowed her eyebrows quizzically, unsure what he meant by the question.
"We should be going," Tristan interjected (so, he could speak!), "If the Woads return, they will come in greater numbers."
Lancelot nodded to his tattooed friend and whistled to his horse. In the mean time, Jade and I retrieved two horses from the caravan. As my mistress mounted the animal, she at first seated herself sidesaddle out of habit. I hastily shot her a warning glance which she quickly ascertained the meaning of and swung her leg over to the other side. Tristan eyed her suspiciously.
"Be careful," I whispered, "These men could be dangerous."
"I think if they wanted to hurt us, they would have done so already," she whispered back.
I swear that girl couldn't think badly of a bear gnawing her arm off. That's why she had me. I'd been looking after her for nearly fifteen years now, ever since her father Pelagius had brought her back from Britain to Rome. She was to stay with her aunt and uncle under my care while her father saw to political business. I grew to love her as dearly as if she were my own.
I didn't know what to think of these Sarmatian characters, though. If they really were under Arthur's command then, of course, they could be trusted. But that tattooed one called Tristan kept staring at my mistress in a way that made me nervous. As far as I could tell, the men didn't suspect that she was actually a girl---but that look Tristan kept giving her---I couldn't read it.
The ride to Hadrian's Wall was an overall quiet one. Tristan's attention was soon diverted by a hawk that had soared down to find a resting place on his arm. What an incredibly strange man. Jade was clearly intrigued, though, and watched intently as he stroked the bird under its beak.
"Is it yours?" Jade asked.
"She belongs to no one," he replied tersely.
Jade smiled faintly. "As it should be," she said quietly.
The rain was pouring down hard when we finally reached the Wall. Jade appeared clearly exhausted and I wished to get her inside immediately to a warm bed. Her eyes were bloodshot and held dark circles, and she shivered violently from the cold. The journey from Rome had been hard on her, especially as it was so soon after her recovery from the assassination attempt.
Once inside the gates, we dismounted our horses which were seen to by an amiable man named Jols. Minutes later, a tall and assured figure strode towards us. Jade ran over to him, the rain streaking down her face.
"Arthur, I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn't know where else to go."