07 Deserter
Warning: Extreme physical violence in this chapter! If you are opposed, do not read on!
Tristan had been outside the fort, sparring with Lancelot. All of the knights had been there, and even Arthur had joined them on the fields to spar with them.
It was a beautiful day, the sun was out and nobody wanted to be in the grey and dusty practice yard on a day like this. Everybody in the fort was thriving on this first warm and sunny day of the year. The air was buzzing with chatter, men were laughing, children were playing and even the Romans seemed to be in a good mood for a change.
Until they found out that the boy was missing.
And he wasn't just missing. He had taken his kit bag with his few belongings with him. A broken window told them that Balan had tried to break into the armory to retrieve his weapons. Apparently though, he had failed and left without them.
They had no idea how long the boy had been gone. Tristan remembered sending him back to the fort to get a few throwing-knives from their room. Not until much later had he noticed that the boy had not returned.
Lancelot cursed. Bors muttered loudly about someone needing a beating and Gawain looked worried. Brumear and Agloval questioned the locals for information, but they returned without news. The knights hurriedly prepared their horses to search for the boy.
Meanwhile Tristan was unable to get away from an outraged Ruccius, who roared at the top of his lungs, bellowing insult after insult about lazy Sarmatian dogs not even capable of watching their own brood. Finally Arthur managed to bring home to Ruccius that it would be better to allow Tristan to join the search party. The sooner they would be able to leave, the better their chances of finding the boy.
As Tristan urged his horse through the forest, looking for any signs or tracks, he did not know what he should hope for. He knew that the boy's chances of survival were slim out here in the forest without weapons. But if he'd be found, his fate was barely going to be any better now. Romans were never easy on deserters and punished them harshly. The boy would not be the first one to die as a result of his punishment.
Several times the knights regrouped near the fort. And every time the message was the same: no sign of the boy. Ruccius even sent out a troop of Roman soldiers to find the young deserter. Tristan secretly hoped that the boy would be safely hidden in the hills and that he would manage to make his way back to Sarmatia one day.
The knights had all become quiet. They knew that if the boy would be found now, things were looking very bad for him.
As he rode up to the gates, he was met with the solemn gazes of Bors, Dagonet, and Gawain. Galahad sat motionlessly on his horse, looking pale-faced and distraught and he could tell that Pelleas had been crying.
"They found him," Bors said softly.
Tristan held his breath. Then his eyes insisted on more information.
"He's alive," said Dagonet. "I don't think they flogged him as badly as they would have done had he been a grown man. He may have to thank Arthur Castus for that."
"Yet they shocked the entire fort with their brutal way of handling him," Gawain muttered. "I don't think anyone who heard his screams will be able to forget them any time soon."
Pelleas let out a shuddering breath and Galahad looked like he was going to be sick.
"They whipped him until he fell unconscious," Bors told Tristan. "They brought him round and whipped him again. Until he passed out. Then the same thing again. And again."
Even Bors was quiet now.
"When they were done, they dropped him to the ground as if he was nothing but a dirty rag," Pelleas whispered, choking. "The soldiers left him for dead in the mud and walked away. They didn't even look back to see if he would live or not."
Tears rolled down Pelleas' face.
Tristan turned his gaze to Dagonet, demanding.
"Arthur Castus picked him up and carried him to the infirmary," Dagonet answered.
"Lancelot is with him now."