It's here! It's finally here! Chapter 10! I'm sorry it's taken me a bit longer than expected to write it. I apologize! I wrote half this chapter and then went back and practically changed the entire thing because I wasn't happy. The chapter isn't quite as long as I hoped it would be, but I think it makes more sense now. I hope you like it! Do comment and let me know if you have any complaints! Or ideas even! I'd love to see the direction my story is leading your imagination!
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing but the fluff that surrounds the greatness. Oh, and Iden. That one is all mine. Even if it's only a bit part. =o)
Chapter 10
The next days journey led the group further down the Roman road. As the company readied themselves to leave, Evony checked on the Woad man, Iden, to make sure his wound was thoroughly cleaned and not festered. He had made it through the night without fever, and for that, Evony was thankful.
"It looks well. Thankfully the arrow wasn't too deep. If you feel well enough, continue traveling with us. Otherwise, if the wound pains you too much, it may be wise for you to return to Camelot. The Woad healer there can take care of you and no doubt do a better job than I can," Evony commented as she slid the man's arm back into the sling.
"Thank you, lady, but I will continue on my way with my brothers," Iden said.
"Very well. Then lets make sure to keep it clean and not let the wound reopen," Evony gave him a small smile. She knew that Iden would be in pain. Afterall, the arrow had lodged itself in the soft tissue of his joint. It was not a life threatening wound, but it still pierced the body in a most unpleasant place. She knew that his dedication to his brother Woad and the mission was admirable, but now would be undertaken with greater difficulty. She made a mental note to ask him to follow in her stead to Brementanacum when they reached York. As useful as he may want to be, he would only be a hinderance if he traveled to Londinium with Bors and Galahad.
"Are we ready?" Lancelot asked her once she had her kit packed and settled herself on the back of her horse.
"Ready," she said and bucked her horse to a trot.
As the party began their journey toward castellum Verterae, Bagdemagus made his way further up to the front of the line to trot beside Evony.
"Lady, I do believe I owe you an apology," the gruff King of Gore started, "I can see why Arthur wished your presence on this mission with us."
"Thank you, Lord Bagdemagus," Evony nodded her head, "Though I understand your hesitancy. We live in uncertain times. It is natural to need to be able to trust those around you and their abilities."
"You are quite right, lady. You are a brave fighter and skilled healer. I am thankful that you are here with us," Bagdemagus recognized, "My men and I are happy to ride with you."
With that, the King of Gore took his leave to fall in line with his men once more.
As the sun made it's journey across the sky, the party made their way to Verterae, passing small villages as they went. When they reached Verterae, the party found that only a few Roman Briton guards had stayed behind to tend the small settlement within it's walls. Like the knights, these Romans had been given papers of passage when their duty had been served, however they stayed behind in order to avoid the shadow of Rome. They had seen enough bloodshed in their lives and did not want to go back to a home that would look upon the loss and torture of life as such little thing. These men had made their home in Briton long ago, taking native women as their wives and carving out their own little niche in the world. Holding no further loyalties to Rome, these men opened the gates to the party of Sarmation, Roman, and Woad individuals, welcoming them to take shelter for the night. Lancelot managed to talk with the leaders of the group and gain their alliance for Arthur. Their dream of freedom matched Arthur's dream for a United Briton. They pledged their loyalty and service to Arthur if he should need it, and vowed to guard the road from Saxon maurauders.
The next castellum took half a day's ride for the party to reach Lavatrae. As the party approached this fort, the sound of swords and shouting rang through the air. The knights and warriors quickly kicked their steeds to a run as smoke and flames rose to the sky from one of the fort's timber battlements.
"Saxons," Bors seethed through his teeth as he drew his sword.
The knights and Woad followed suit, drawing their weapons to ready for battle.
"Caradoc, Bedwyr, take the left flank with your men. Urien, Oweyn, Vortigern, take the middle. We will take the right. Lets break them up so the villagers can tend those flames!" Lancelot ordered and charged forward, sword in hand.
The group of Saxons that had laid siege on the fort were only 20 in all. A small number to take such a grand fort, but since it did not have many Roman officers left to defend it's walls, it made it an easier target. Villagers ran, some screaming, some attempting to fight. The few officers that remained in the fort were struggling to hold their ground as the battlement burned. Their faces lit up with relief when they saw the Sarmatian knights and their allies coming to their aid. They made quick work of the Saxon ruffians and began aiding the guard to organize the wounded in the healing house and thoroughly drench the scorched and burned timber of the east wall.
"We thank you with our lives!" the leader of the fort, General Junius, thanked them with an arm crossing his chest and a great bow.
"Your life is not needed. Your people have paid enough blood for today. All we ask is for shelter for the night and your allegiance to Arthur, High King of Briton," Lancelot asked as he wiped Saxon blood from his blades before sheathing them once again.
"We have heard about Arthur's triumphs," Junius nodded, "He has our loyalties. Anything he needs that we can provide, we will stand with him."
That evening as the men gathered around the fire for a meal of roast quail that the fort had provided for them, the men talked of their accomplishments in the last two days.
"This is easier than we thought!" Bors said as he hungrily bit into a juicy quail thigh.
"This is nothing. We are still close to the wall. Just cleaning up stragglers and finding those whose alliance is already chosen," Gawain corrected him.
Bors grunted his disapproval as he chewed his meat.
"Gawain is right. This is nothing compared to what we will encounter further south," Lancelot paused and looked at Bors, "Compared to what you will encounter."
Bors paused in his chewing and raised an eyebrow.
"We go into unknown territory while you get to visit the only Sarmatian castellum on this whole bloody island," Galahad said bitterly.
"It is what Arthur wishes. Besides, you know why I am going there," Lancelot sighed.
"Because of your pretty face?" Gawain joked, "So you can bat your lashes and win their hearts?"
The men laughed and Lancelot threw a leg bone at the blonde savage.
"You will not be alone," Bedwyr reminded Galahad and Bors, "We will be with you. It will be easier if you are in the company of Woad than in the company of Romans."
"What, do we not have enough charms to win over your people ourselves?" Bors joked with a mouth full of food, spitting bits of meat as he spoke.
"Hasn't anyone ever taught you it's rude to speak with your mouth full?" Evony playfully slapped the back of his head as she joined them at the fire.
"Insessantly, but apparently I enjoy being rude," Bors shot back as Lancelot handed her a skewer of quail.
"I'm sure Vanora would be proud," Evony chidded.
"It's a charm that won me her heart, among other things," Bors said deviously.
The other knights rolled their eyes.
"Oh brother, here we go," Gawain groaned.
The Woad and Roman companions looked puzzled at their reaction, not understanding that Bors was about to deliver his age old story of his bounty.
"She couldn't resist my manly girth," Bors perked up at the opportunity to drive his point home.
Lancelot hung his head while Galahad began to giggle.
"No really!" Bors said in protest of their doubt and held up his arm, his hand balled fist.
As he said his trademark description the knights murmered along with him in unision, "It's as big as a baby's arm holding an apple!"
Understanding this must be something the knights surely were tortured with for quite some time, the men broke out in laughter. Gawain threw a piece of meat at Bors as the man broke out in a mischievous smile.
When the laughter finally died down Lancelot looked to Evony and asked, "How fare the injured?"
"Most will live. A couple may die by tomorrow," Evony reported, "The healer they have here is an inexperienced apprentice. Their master healer left with the Romans, apparently to follow the wine. This apprentice will do well though. I have shown him what herbs he will need to treat the wounded and how to prepare them. He has steady hands and does not faint at the site of blood. He will do well enough."
Lancelot took notice of Caradoc shaking his head across from the fire.
"Have you something to say to the matter, Lord Caradoc?" Lancelot questioned in a cautious tone.
"Only that the Romans left their precious empire to rot, sir," Caradoc said bitterly.
The group fell silent as the tension loomed in the air.
"The Romans came to this land and stole it from it's people. They built walls and Romanized half the population. Then when their precious Pope decided we were too much trouble, they abandoned us to savages," Caradoc stated the obvious.
"Is this not what Arthur is charging us to remedy? To let the people know they are not alone just because Rome is gone?" Oweyn nobly offered.
"Rome uses what it wishes and leaves the scraps for the rest. There is no care for the lives of anyone other than their own," Vortigern chimed in.
"But it should be a blessing that Rome is gone. That our people are now free of their tyranny to regain our country," Bedwyr said, "That is why we are here. Our people have been torn long enough. Arthur's dream is not a Roman dream. It comes from our people. From the land itself. We must unite if we are to ecome strong."
"Well I'd say we have enough to unite over," Gawain spoke up, surprising everyone, "This land may not be my own, but it is what I will call home for as long as I must. I do not wish it to go to shit because of some Saxon bastards."
The men nodded.
"This land is home to more than just Briton or Woad. Look at us, around this fire. How different could we be? But yet we are here for a common cause," Lancelot's words held everyone's ear, "Arthur's dream is to unite the people. It matters not who those people are. We are all one people in the end. We are all fighting for the same thing. The opportunity to live as we were born. Free."
Evony felt a swell of pride to hear the curly haired knight speak so boldly. He really didn't realize that he was becoming the perfect emissary for Arthur's task.
"The Saxons are against our right. They would rather us die and leave the ground fertile with our blood. But we will stand and fight together, and we will win. Arthur says the people need protection. We are that force that will change the tide and give the people their freedom. We did it at Badon Hill, and that was just a small force. But look at us – Woad, Briton, Roman, Sarmatian. A melting pot of strength. There is no greater force if we are united." Lancelot finished his thoughts and stared at the men at the fire before bowing his head and blushing. He was not accustomed to speaking so seriously. He was used to taking orders and giving them. Hearing himself vocalize his thoughts and rally men together as Arthur would unnerved him, but oddly gave him a sense of strength and worth he never felt before.
The men around the fire stared at him in amazement. Bors jaw had dropped and a bit of qual hung disturbingly from his lip. Urien and Oweyn straghtened their stature with pride. The woad kings looked stern, a few nodding in agreement, wry smiles crossing their lips. Evony smiled proudly as she finished her meal.
"Well then, looks like there is a diplomat in you yet!" Gawain said with a smile to break the silence, "You've been hanging around Arthur too long!"
The blonde barbarian clapped a hand to Lancelot's back and the men laughed. As the evening meal came to a close, they all retreated to their own corner of the fort grounds to retire.
The next three days led the party down the Roman road past the waystop of Cataractonium, a few small villages that were burdened by Saxon rogues stealing food and slaughtering cattle, and onto Isirium.
Isirium proved a treat for the knights and Britons of the group, but an unwelcome experience for the Woad travelers. The town was, by all means, Roman. The people had remained after Rome's retreat, favoring their own way of life and law. The prefect ruled the town and kept things organized, offering aid to the surrounding villages and the nearest castellums in trade for grain and services. It was a marriage of convenience. Relations with the rebel woad population were strained and Bedwyr, Bagdemagus, Griflet, Caradoc, Vortigern and their men had to make camp in the woods to keep the peace. Lancelot had managed to talk with the prefect of the town and convince him to visit Arthur's court to share in words of a United Britain. The prospect of aligning themselves with Camelot under Arthur's rule was sweetened by the suggestion of a fortified road for trade to enrich the city.
"Damn politicians," Bors commented as he sat himself down for a pint of ale at the local tavern, "And we have to kiss their arse!"
"No, we don't need to kiss. Just merely caress," Gawain commented sarcastically.
"And this is why Arthur leaves me to do the talking! There is no finess to your delivery, gentlemen!" Lancelot joked as he swept an arm around Evony's waste. He was beginning to like his new use of persuasion.
"Arthur needs allies. What better allies than those who seek to build their own economy?" Evony sipped her ale, "In times of need, they will call on Arthur. And in his time of need, they may play a good roll defending the main road and trade routes."
"And the Woad? I doubt they will be pleased to be in an alliance with Romans who still hate them," Oweyn asked.
"Not everyone will be happy. The point is to unite under a common goal or need. This town wishes for growth and riches. If the Saxons attack, they will have neither." Lancelot reasoned.
"Like I said, too much politics for my liking," Bors grunted.
"Well, swallow the last of your pint. We are to camp outside the town tonight," Lancelot said as he finished his ale.
"Awe, come now," Galahad protested and he gave the wench on his lap a pinch, "I was just making new friends!"
"We have a job to do. We need to show the people that we are united, even if they disapprove of our companions. It's what Arthur would want," Lancelot rose and held his hand out for Evony, "We will camp with the rest of our company."
"Bollocks," Bors complained some more before rising and snatching the chunk of cheese from a nearby plate to take with him.
Their travels to York were uneventful but filled with unknown fears of what was to come. York proved to be more hospitable to their party and let them settle at the local inn. Some locals were still wary of the party, glaring cautiously at the tatooed men and the hevily armed Sarmatians, but the business owners cared not as long as they had enough coin. The leaders and officers of the large town were eager to discuss what Arthur could do as their leader and proved another easy conquest for Lancelot to conquer. However as the group of knights sat with the prominent memers of their company in the Inn, Lancelot could feel that this may be the last easy alliance any of them would see on their journey. They had not encountered too much activity thus far on their trip, but they all knew that the further south they would go, the more trouble they would find.
"Your journey will take at least 6 days without delay and with good weather," Lancelot commented to Bors.
"It'll take longer than that. You know this God for saken country loves to piss on our heads as much as possible!" Bors said grumpily.
"Caradoc, what of the Saxon settlements deep in the South? How far do they normally move?" Lancelot asked plainly.
Caradoc stiffened and shifted his eyes, "No more than a small village settlement near Regni. They do not venture."
Lancelot peered at his fellow knights and shared an impatient look with them. They knew Caradoc was avoiding something. Before Lancelot could press the man futher, Evony's soft voice interrupted.
"My Lord, I know that you wish the best for your people. That is all that we wish as well. With all this talk of unity, we must be able to trust one another and share our information. We know the settlement is larger than a small village. It is common knowledge of what befel Londinium and the price that was paid by your people. Please, tell us what we can expect, if not for our sakes, for the sake of your people," Evony pleaded with him, hoping that the weight of the past and the responsibility of his people would loose his tongue.
Caradoc looked at Evony, shocked that she would even speak of such things. Vortigern stiffened with resentment but said nothing. After a tense moment and a shared look between himself and Vortigern, Cardoc finally spoke.
"The further we travel on the Roman Road, the more treacherous it will get. When you reach Durolipons you will encounter a Woad and Briton settlement. They are plagued with constant raids. Londinium is lost. Hengest is the Saxon that rules over it now. I have not seen a Roman present in that city for some time, nor trade reaching that far south. Britons and Picts stay clear of the city," Caradoc said, his voice strained.
"And what of the settlement?" Lancelot asked.
"The Saxons maintain the southern tip of Kent. You call it Cantii. And have towns and villages along the southern coastline from Dubrae to Clasuentum. They maintain most of Regni as well," Caradoc revealed.
"Bloody hell," Bors sat back and shared a look of disbelief with Gawain.
"So we're walking into a lion's den," Galahad laughed drunkenly, "Beautiful!"
"Why did you not tell Arthur of this before we left Camelot?" Oweyn asked incredulously.
"This is only supposed to be a scouting mission. Besides, what would Arthur do? He has no army," Caradoc said boldly.
The blood in Lancelot's veins began to boil, "Arthur has us."
"Your heroics are noted, Sir, but Caradoc is right," Vortigern spoke up, "To arrive in force at Londinium would mean certain death. The Saxons that amass in the south are no match for the woad or britons. That is why so many have left the area. I admit I was foolish to deal with such beasts in the first place, and I have paid a terrible price. But I have learned much about them in trade. They are ruthless, and the force they carry with them will take more than four Sarmatian knights to supress."
"Reconsaissance then. As we planned. We change the game," Evony interrupted, "Approach the city with caution. Let it be a scout mission from Durolipons. Camp where you must but only observe unless it is deemed safe. No negotiations or alliances. No encounters. Simply get what information Arthur could use and leave. We can figure out what to do when we return to Camelot."
"You will need more men. I will go with you," Catigern said. The young prince surprised everyone at the table. He had not spoken the entire trip, and to hear his voice startled everyone. His father, Vortigern, raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"They will kill you! You are my son!" Vortigern said angrily.
"Then they do not need to know who I am. Only that I am scouting," Catigern argued, "I will take three of our men with us as well. We will need the numbers."
"I will not allow..." Vortigern started before being interrupted.
"I will go, father. They have taken our home and murdered our people," Catigern said as his final word, "I may not be able to stop them but by the gods I can get Arthur what he needs to know. None knows the land or the city better than it's own people."
Vortigern set his jaw angrily and held his tongue. His position of an exile and usurper did nothing to help his cause. He couldn't set foot near his old home and had no army to defend it. Having his son offer to help Arthur and to travel with Picts felt like a slap in the face. But he could not continue to object and risk unwanted questions to be thrown in his direction.
"We should be travelling together," Lancelot scowled into his mug of ale.
"Arthur asked us to separate. He would not have done so if he thought it too dangerous," Gawain reminded them. It sounded more like an attempt to convince himself that Arthur's request was reasonable. The knights knew they were strongest when they were together. It was that strength that had kept them alive for all these years.
"We will make do. Remember, reconnaissance," Evony tried to ease the discomfort of the conversation.
Lancelot sighed, "We will stock up on supplies in the morning and head out. Bors, if you need any aid, send word immediately. Don't hesitate to leave if you must."
Lancelot looked around the table before saying, "Gentlemen, inform your men and make ready for tomorrow."
The Woad and Briton's nodded their heads and exchanged words before dismissing themselves. Gawain and Galahad rose and began walking to their rooms to get some much needed rest.
"Bors," Gawain called for the portly man who was muttering obscenities under his breath. He was none too pleased with the information that was given and he felt like he was getting the short end of the stick.
"Bors," Gawain said again, "Are you coming?"
"Of course I'm coming!" Bors shouted in frustration, "You don't bloody well need to call for me! Bloody hell!"
Bors stood and gulped down the last of his ale. Shaking his head he made his way up the stairs to his room muttering to himself something about how Vanora would kill him if he didn't come home.