Chapter 10:
It seemed that Castiel's two companions had become more comfortable around him after the events of the previous night and as the afternoon wore into evening, he found himself caught in the middle of a conversation between both men as they rode. He chimed in occasionally when his opinion was asked for but otherwise sat quiet and simply enjoyed the sound of their voices. Sam was mulling over some figures on a parchment, calling out his concerns over the numbers and placement of the Gauls they'd fought so far, while Dean waved his hand dismissively and assured his brother that he was over thinking everything too much. Castiel's interest was piqued however and he listened intently as he stared out into the foreign territory they now found themselves in.
"I'm telling you, Dean, this doesn't add up. Not with the numbers they're reported to have," Sam was saying emphatically. "All the forces they've sent at us so far have been small. I compared the numbers from the attacks over the last few months and they just seem off. Why send such small numbers against us unless it was to test our tactics?"
Dean sighed dramatically. "By the GODS you are such a nerd. Seriously Sam, get a hobby. The Gauls aren't sending bigger numbers because they either don't have them or are smart enough to know we'd kick their asses. Give it a rest." Sam scowled at his brother but rolled up his parchments anyway and tucked them safely back into his saddlebags. Castiel wasn't quite content with letting the conversation drop though, not with them riding right into an area that had up until recently belonged to said Gauls.
"Do you believe they will attack again, Samael?" He asked worriedly, turning in his saddle to look at the man behind him.
"Oh great," Dean grumbled from up front, "now I get to listen to both of you fretting like old hens."
Sam ignored him and shrugged, looking gratified that at least someone was interested in what he was trying to say. "I don't know. It's possible. I'm just saying it's worth being aware of. They're smarter than I think we give them credit for and if it were me leading them, I'd be gathering a major force to attack while my enemy was overconfident in his victory. I mean, both legions aren't going to stay on site for long so they might be waiting for our numbers to thin a little."
Castiel felt suddenly and strangely aware of the area they'd just entered into in light of Sam's warning. Their travel had taken them outside of the areas well worked by Roman hands and into wilder lands where trees had gathered in small clusters along the trail. The farther they rode, the denser these clumps had become until Castiel now found himself hedged in on either side by thick tall trunks that stretched up toward the heavens. He could well imagine wild men with tattooed faces leaping out of the woods around him and the stillness of the forest was eerie compared to the bustle of city streets he was used to. Even out on the open road, the sound of Dean and Sam's voices, the snorts and hooves of their horses, had echoed out around them. Within the cradle of the trees though, the sounds were all muffled and Cas glanced about with heightened awareness.
"It's possible they might even have left scouts behind to monitor our movements, planning out the time when we'd be at our weakest," Sam said absently as he pulled one of the sheets back out and jotted down some thought that had just occurred to him.
Castiel swallowed heavily. "Do you believe we are in danger?"
Dean snorted a laugh, "Cas, trust me, if the Gauls were going to attack us, we'd smell them long before they got close enough to be a threat. Besides, you've got nothing to worry about. They're more likely to kidnap you than kill you what with you being a valuable hostage and all." He turned and shot a mischievous wink at Castiel who scowled at him in return before turning back to stare out into the forest. He couldn't say it was all bad despite his continued fretting. The sun was barely filtering down through the boughs above them but every now and then it split the canopy and poured down in glittering shafts to the forest floor. Small flocks of birds fluttered now and then when the group rode too near and once Castiel even spotted a deer who spooked at their approach. The path they had been taking had devolved into nothing more than a wide swath of trampled underbrush, its edges defined only by the hacked off limbs of trees severed to make room for the long line of men who had marched through this land. Dean led them down it with a confidence that Castiel could well imagine had earned him the fierce loyalty of his comrades and he could see why the soldier had risen to the rank he now bore.
The forest around them grew colder with the setting sun, the trees having blocked most of the warmth from settling into the ground, and Castiel was beginning to consider pulling out his cloak when the forest parted and dumped them out into a narrow valley split down its center by a glittering river. In the distance he could make out a tall wooden structure crouched on the edge of a bend, it's walls bristling with makeshift spikes to keep enemies at bay, and around its base a fair sized encampment had been set up. Scores of men milled about, weaving between tents and hauling makeshift construction equipment with them as they reinforced the walls of the fort. Dean slowed his pace now that their final destination was in sight. He'd been in such a hurry to get Castiel here, to drop off his 'cargo' and finish this mission so he could get his transfer. Now that he was here, however, he wished he'd moved slower. He hated the idea that this was it, that here he and Castiel would part ways and never see each other again. A single glance at the young man behind him showed plainly that he was no happier to have arrived either.
Castiel felt all the happiness and comfort he'd experienced in Dean and Sam's company suddenly filter away, replaced with a sense of dread that only got worse as they began to ride down to the fort. The closer they got to the looming structure, the heavier Castiel's heart felt until he found himself fighting the urge to just wheel his horse around and leave. Hemmed between Dean and Sam though, he knew he couldn't shame himself that way much less let down Anya all because of his desire to escape what was apparently his fate. The sound of the horses hooves felt hollow to him as they finally breached the edge of the camp and rode through the army to the gate of the fort.
Dean frowned as he looked around in confusion. Most of the legion wasn't there and that fact bothered him greatly. With their numbers so thinned for what was apparently no reason, Sam's cryptic warnings suddenly sounded a lot more plausible. Several men stopped to watch as they rode toward the gates of the fort and Castiel suddenly felt entirely out of place again. He was dressed in the white robes of a citizen and that alone made him stand out like a beacon among the swarm of crimson tunics and shining armor that surrounded him. Multitudes of eyes turned to watch him and greetings were tossed to Sam and Dean as they rode past. Castiel had never wished more that he were simply one of their number, another soldier like them, so he would feel more like he had their respect instead of their curiosity. He settled for keeping his eyes locked onto Dean's back though that only served to remind him more of what he was about to lose. It was better than looking into the faces of the men around him and seeing the life he knew he'd never know now. The trio rode across a broad dirt ramp that served as the only entry point to the fort since the rest had been surrounded by a deep trench. As the gates before them swung open, Castiel couldn't help feeling he was walking straight into a cage and he once again had to fight the urge to flee. He gathered his courage and lifted his chin as they finally entered the center of the structure.
A long low building had been settled into the middle of the space and a second was still under construction beside it while several others had been placed strategically around them to house the soldiers. Castiel could only imagine the central building was for housing the higher command, a theory that was proven right a moment later when an older man dressed in ornate armor that marked him as the legion's commander emerged and approached them. Dean and Sam slapped their fists to their breastplates in a salute of respect which the man returned with all the air of a proud father. "I am General Pullo," he announced to Castiel, "We are glad to have you safe among us. Your patron has not yet arrived, unfortunately, but we will do our best to make you comfortable until he does."
"Thank you," Castiel said lifelessly. He hesitated on getting off of his horse, as if doing so would further reduce his non-existent chances of escape, but he knew he didn't have a choice and putting it off wasn't going to help his Anya any. He slid down and dully began pulling his own bag from his saddle when a soldier he didn't recognize took over, gently pushing him aside.
Pullo walked up behind him and settled a hand on his shoulder. "Come, Tatius can show you to your room," he said politely, gesturing to the unfamiliar man holding his gear.
Dean didn't even bother asking permission as he snagged the bag from Tatius's hands. "I got it," he said flatly as he turned and strode off toward the central building. It was the only place Dean knew they would put Cas and he doubted it would be hard to locate the room that had been set aside for their distinguished guest. Castiel smiled gratefully and followed behind him. He paused to see if Sam would follow as well but the other soldier waved them on and then pulled out a parchment to hold in front of the general. He began chatting excitedly and Cas could tell from the intent look on Pullo's face that he had the general's complete attention. He turned and followed Dean into the cool interior of the command center. Men in centurion armor were coming and going with intent looks on their faces and he had to dodge out of their way more than once as they walked. The whole building had been constructed from lumber gathered from the surrounding forest and Castiel found himself impressed by the speed with which the structure was being built. He knew within the span of a few months it would be converted to stone and the lumber would be chopped to fuel the bath furnaces.
Dean peered into each room he came to until he finally found one appointed to the level that a senator would be worthy of. The lack of military equipment ruled out the possibility of it being the general's quarters so he stepped in and dropped Castiel's bag next to the bed which sat in the corner of the room. The space was large, more so than anything Dean had ever been afforded, and it had been decked out with all the finer things their general had brought with him. The bed was covered in thick warm blankets and a low chest squatted against one wall. Along its surface was a set of fine cups and bottle of wine. Furs had been spread over its floor and cloth draped every wall to keep the drafts out. Dean whistled as he looked around. "I know this might not be as nice as you're used to but trust me when I say the general went all out on you," he said as brightly as he could. He had hoped the words would cheer Castiel, who looked at that moment as if he were being sentenced to life imprisonment, but the young man just shot him a miserable look and walked over to the bed.
"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said quietly.
The two shared a long unspoken moment of sorrow before Dean found he had to leave or risk saying something ridiculous like asking Cas to just ride out with him and Sam that night and never look back. He paused at the door and cleared his throat as he tried to think of anything he might be able to offer in the way of comfort but he could barely convince himself that this was a good thing so he settled for a half hearted "You're welcome" before shutting the door behind him and storming out of the building.
Castiel sank down onto the soft blankets that covered his bed and did his best to convince himself this was the way things had to be.