Chapter Two
Prelude to Disaster
"What is going on?" Bors demanded in his usual gruff and straight-forward tone of voice as he walked into the room housing the round table where the rest of the knights had assembled.
Fort Commander Antonius fixed him with a stern gaze but the Sarmatian just shrugged, still waiting for some answers.
"You are to ride to Little Rome at first light tomorrow morning. There you are to escort Bishop Bentorius back here. And make sure he arrives safely, otherwise I cannot guarantee your survival," the Fort Commander said gravelly.
"We are going nowhere without Arthur," Lancelot said in defiance.
"You are to obey Centurion Cesarion. You will fall under his command during this trip," Antonius returned sternly.
"Are you deaf?" Bors asked grumpily. "He said; we aren't going anywhere without Arthur."
"Commander Castus would have joined you if he could. It's bad enough as it is. Bishop Bentorius will be displeased to know he's not with you on the journey," the Fort Commander returned, barely managing to keep his temper in check at the pigheaded resistance he was faced with.
"It is a suicide mission," Gawain argued.
"Heaven help you if you do not return with the bishop and his aide in eight days," Antonius retorted angrily as he turned to leave the room. The discussion was over and the matter closed.
Galahad threw his gloves on the floor in frustration. "If it weren't for Arthur, I couldn't care less about that pompous ass that awaits us," he said fiercely.
"We are Sarmatians, we have no say in the matters of Rome," Tristan spoke up evenly.
"What's the matter with you?" Bors challenged as he walked up to the enigmatic scout. "Is he worth getting killed for?"
"I have waited long for those papers, to be free of this service. It is only a year left. I will not sacrifice my freedom by refusing this mission," Tristan returned, his voice low and dangerous.
"Who's to say we will ever receive those papers?" Bors returned angrily.
"Arthur," Lancelot said. "Arthur will see to it."
"Let's ride then," Dagonet said. "We are wanted, let's show his highness why we are the best."
"I don't know if I can take orders from the Centurion without strangling him," Galahad mumbled.
"He's always bragging about his missions. If he gives us trouble, let's leave him, let the pompous ass take care of himself," Lancelot suggested with a gleam in his eye. "Accidents happen."
OOOOOO
First healer, Sarcas, walked into Arthur's room early in the morning, expecting to see the delirious man writhe in his sheets, therefor he stopped dead in his tracks as he instead walked in on Commander Castus and his first knight engaged in an argument.
Arthur was standing next to his bed dressed in his normal attire, looking out through the window while Lancelot, seemingly fuming, stood glaring at his back.
"You…" Lancelot spoke up, ignoring the door opening, not acknowledging the healer.
"No. This discussion is over Lancelot," Arthur returned, his voice low and commanding, leaving no room for arguments.
"You are not well, Arthur," Lancelot returned angrily, concerned and undeterred by the Roman.
"And you're not riding without me," Arthur added as he adjusted his shirt.
"With respect, sir…" Sarcas began but trailed off as Arthur held up his hand to stave off his protest, towering toward him with Lancelot hot on his tail.
The healer sidestepped as the Roman reached for the door but he dared to grab his arm, causing the commander to temporarily stop.
"Sarcas," Arthur warned, not in the mood to be told what to do and not to do.
"Commander Castus," the healer said. "Perhaps you should listen to your first knight."
A faint smile creased Lancelot's lips at the suggestion but the Roman commander shrugged, his mind already set on the task before him.
"You are not well enough to take on this ride. Your body…" Sarcas began to argue but he knew it was a lost cause. "If you strain yourself too hard only God can help you."
Arthur nodded. "I understand, Sarcas, but you cannot stop me," he said and reached for the door.
"It's not worth it," Lancelot argued as he followed his friend and commander down the corridors to the rust chamber. "You can't risk your life for this!"
Arthur chose to ignore his knight as he strode through the corridors.
Furiously Lancelot reached out to grab Arthur's arm, forcing the Roman to stop. He spun around to face the stubborn knight.
"I cannot watch you ride out without me and risk your lives, Lancelot. Is it worth risking your lives?" he questioned, ever the diplomat yet a soldier.
However, this time Lancelot could hear in his voice the anger and pain seeping through his carefully chosen words.
Arthur turned around again, intent on getting his armor and saddle up. Lancelot followed. No one said anything for a while, both too stubborn and furious at each other.
"What's going on?" Dagonet asked curiously as the door opened to the rust chamber where most of the knights had gathered.
Gawain and Galahad turned to the door, both looking somewhat dumbfounded at the sight of Arthur sweeping inside the room like nothing had happened.
"You will be a liability on this mission!" Lancelot finally said seriously as he saw his friend struggling into his breastplate, grimacing.
Bors bullied himself through the room and promptly helped Arthur with it. He pulled the leather straps on his battle gear tight and clipped the cap around his commander's shoulders. "It's good to have you back, Arthur," he said gruffly with a pat on his back.
Bors didn't see it the way Lancelot did. Arthur's presence fueled him with inspiration and fighting spirit, as he knew the strength it took, and willpower, to do what he had just done.
To Lancelot it was a foolish act. As much as he liked his friend and respected his commands, he despised what Arthur was trying to prove at the moment. He would have to look after Arthur on their journey, he would never forgive himself if something happened. In a way, it had been so much easier to ride out with the Centurion because he was expendable.
Fort Commander Cyrus Antonius nodded gravelly at Commander Castus; a moment of understanding passing between them as they met on the courtyard. He took a moment to glance around. Most of the activity around them seemed to stop when seeing Arthur up and about. Stable hands, barmaids, visiting farmers, servants, healers, children and Roman guards, all alike, glanced their way. Murmurs could be heard through the crowds. Most people already considered Arthur to be invincible; the man and his knights were slowly turning into a legendary band of brothers who could defeat any army coming in their way.
"Make sure to bring him here," Antonius said as Arthur stopped next to him, waiting for Jols to hand over Prime Snowfall. The powerful white horse danced slightly toward them with the seasoned stable hand in tow.
Arthur straightened, looking the fort commander in the eye. "I will, but I dare question the route planned for the bishop. It is quite frankly a suicide mission. I am not even sure it is possible to travel with a carriage that way."
Antonius eyes darkened as he carefully leaned forward to whisper in Arthur's ear. "You're starting to get too important. Rome doesn't like that the Sarmatian knights are better than the Roman troops. Bishop Bentorius is a dangerous man. Watch your back, Arthur," he cautioned.
The younger Roman nodded thoughtfully. "I appreciate the warning," he finally said. I trust you to be able to handle the Centurion and his hunger for power while we are gone?"
"Too many allied soldiers are on my side for him to claim what he desires," Antonius returned confidently.
Arthur nodded as Jols held in the horse and helped him mouth.
"Careful, Arthur," Jols cautioned kindly, for his ears only. "We need you around here."
Arthur nodded, keeping the adrenaline filled horse in tight reins while settling in the saddle. "Knights, let's bring Bishop Bentorius safely within these walls," he said, his clear and commanding voice echoing through the courtyard while Prime Snowfall danced over the paved court.
All the knights raised one hand up in the air, calling to arms. "Rus!" they all shouted.
With a proud smile Arthur turned his horse around and nodded seriously toward the guards. "Open the gate!" he commanded.
As the heavy wooden construction creaked open, he sighed wearily. Bishop Bentorius was coming after his knights and it was his fault. He would make sure the man of the church had nothing to complain about and that he left his men alone.
OOOOOO
Bishop Bentorius eyes glittered as he walked up on the wall to overlook the green fields surrounding Little Rome. The Fort was in good hands, the Roman soldiers were disciplined and well-trained. The chapel was full of candles and praying women, children and soldiers. Fort 134 had acquired the name Little Rome since so many of its inhabitants were settlers from the Roman empire and not Britons. The Fort was also easier to gain access to by boat, which was both a blessing and a curse for the empire.
However, his journey so far hadn't put his skills to test and he longed to show off. He welcomed the task of converting the knights and bring order to the savages around the fort further inland called Camboglanna. He wanted to measure up to Arthur Castus; to see what kind of man he really was – other than that he held that idiot, Pelagius, teachings high.
No one really held authority over Bentorius, he was cunning and feared by lesser men and he'd climbed high up in the hierarchy of the church by now. He was respected by citizens and officials alike and enjoyed the current predicament. However, tales about people like Arthur Castus and his savages made him uneasy because they threatened his power. The man was becoming something of a legend back in Rome even though he was stationed so far away from the capital of the empire. Bringing home many of the Roman troops would make it harder for Castus to bring order to chaos in the savaged land but it would not bring him to his knees.
However, the way things were going at the moment led Bentorius to believe that it wouldn't take more than a few years until the empire was forced to withdraw from Britannia. He secretly wondered what would become of the savaged land then. If the Saxons didn't invade from the south, would the Britons be able to unite the land into a country and tame the Woads? He continued to gaze out over the green hills with a faint gleeful smile and wondered when the Roman commander and his band of savages would arrive.
OOOOOO
To be continued