37 Debriefing
The day was nearing noon when troops from a nearby fort arrived. Well-rested after a good night's sleep, the soldiers began to pile up the bodies of the Woads, making several large pyres to burn them. Normally the Romans left their enemies' corpses to rot. But in such close proximity to the storage depot this was undesirable.
Balan, Pelleas and Galahad returned to the hillock, where onion soup and bread were handed out to the men. The boys hurried to fetch their tin cups from their marching packs and joined the queue. Huddled between their horses to protect themselves from the biting wind, they drank the warm broth and chewed their bread.
"Balan!"
Balan looked up to see who had called him. Bedivere appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Balan's shoulder.
"Ruccius has sent for you. Hurry, boy!"
Bewildered, Balan put down his cup and followed Bedivere through a maze of eating soldiers towards the officers' tents. He had to run to keep up with the old scout. "I've got him!" Bedivere bellowed. A short distance away, Tristan looked up and nodded. Bedivere glanced around and waved frantically. Following his gaze, Balan saw Geraint standing on a boulder near the edge of the field. The lanky scout raised his hand and leaped down from his perch. "Balan!" called Bedivere impatiently. Bedivere had gotten ahead and Balan ran to catch up with him.
Near the officers' tents Tristan joined them. He nodded approvingly and laid his hand on Balan's shoulder. "I hear you did well," he said with the faintest hint of a smile. He ruffled Balan's hair. "Listen, boy. When we meet with Ruccius, don't speak unless you are spoken to. Never say more than you have to."
Balan nodded solemnly.
"Here we are," said Bedivere. He turned left between the cluster of officers' tents and walked straight towards the largest tent, which was guarded by four sentries. One of the sentries disappeared into the tent to announce them.
"Two scouts with the boy, sir."
"Let them in!"
Balan entered the tent behind Bedivere and Tristan and glanced around. A brazier burnt in the center of the tent. The ground had been cleared of snow and the tent was sparsely furnished with a simple wooden chair and table at which Ruccius presently ate his ration of bread and onion soup. Balan sighed gratefully when the heat of the fire washed over him. The commander neither looked up, nor acknowledged that they had entered. Balan spotted Ruccius' bloodied sword and mud-splattered helmet on a chest in a corner of the tent. Behind them the tent flap opened again, and Geraint walked in.
The three older scouts stood side by side, waiting in silence for Ruccius to speak. Balan stood behind them, uncertain what to do or why he was even here.
Ruccius tipped the last bit of soup into his mouth and cleaned out his bowl with a piece of bread. Chewing it thoughtfully he rose from his chair and walked around his table.
"Come here, boy!" he barked.
Balan tried not to flinch and stepped forward to stand beside Tristan. He did his best to appear as calm and solemn as the three older knights.
Ruccius gave him an appraising look.
"You are to become a scout, boy. Look at these men, these are my scouts." Ruccius pointed at Bedivere, Tristan and Geraint. "I know them to be good at their job. They are reliable, skilled, meticulous, knowledgeable, smart... It is rare to find three such talented scouts in one place."
Ruccius left a long silence and circled them slowly. Balan was reminded of a prowling fox. Ruccius stopped in front of Balan and glared him down.
"I want you to pay attention to all that is said in this tent today, boy. I listened to your conversations with Geraint, you are smart. You have the right mind for a scout."
With a nasty look at Tristan, Ruccius grasped Balan's shoulder and said, "There is no better teacher than life itself, boy. You can practice inside the fort all you want, but real danger and real battles will teach you infinitely more. Staying safe behind walls will make you weak."
Balan blushed furiously. He bit his lip and stared hard at the fire in the brazier. Beside him, Tristan did not move. Without looking up, Balan knew that the scout's face had remained impassive.
Ruccius drew himself up to his full height.
"Balan of Sarmatia, I summoned you here to listen to my debriefing with these scouts. You are going to learn from their mistakes."
Balan averted his eyes and stared at the ground. He felt deeply uncomfortable.
Without warning Ruccius dropped all self-restraint. "Sixty Woads slipped away from the main army. Sixty!" he bellowed, swelling up like a bullfrog as he worked himself into a rage. "How can it be that three of the best scouts that ever served under my command, failed to notice this?! Why was I not informed that a surprise party of Woads was lurking in the forest?! If we had known, we might not have lost seven lives! The natives should not have been allowed to flee with so much plunder!"
Ruccius bellowed himself hoarse at the three Sarmatian scouts, who withstood his deafening shouts and rants in silence, even though their commander was frothing at the mouth.
Balan wished that he could make himself smaller and stuff his fingers in his ears. He wanted to be anywhere but in a tent with Ruccius.
Bedivere tried to speak, but Ruccius silenced him.
"You, boy," he barked at Balan. "This is your chance to learn and make good for your brothers' mistakes. Tell me why these men failed me."
Balan gasped and took an involuntary step backwards. His mind went blank.
Tristan observed the commander from under his fringe of matted hair. He had served under Ruccius long enough to be familiar with the Roman's tactics to get a rise out of his men. But the way he used the boy to ridicule them, was new to him.
"Well?" asked Ruccius impatiently, breathing like an angry bull.
"I don't know, sir," stammered Balan evasively.
"Wrong answer," boomed Ruccius. "Use your brains and come up with an explanation!"
Panic rose in the pit of Balan's stomach. 'If in fear or doubt, breathe!' Clinging to his father's advice, Balan took deep breaths to calm down. 'Focus,' he told himself. His mind wandered back to their cold journey through the night. Tristan had been waiting for them where the Woads had crossed the wall. The tracks had been covered with snow, but according to Tristan the tracks had still been visible when the scouts had first reached that spot. Balan rubbed his forehead. Bedivere and Geraint would not have missed the tracks of sixty Woads splitting off from the main army in an open field, not even in the dark.
The dark path up the hill had offered plenty of opportunity for a large group to slip away, this was true. But further up the hill the Woad army had crossed paths with a unit of Roman infantry. Balan surmised that if any Woads had split from the main army beforehand, they would have returned to aid their brothers.
"The sixty Woads must have slipped away after the battle on the hill," he said to Ruccius.
Ruccius frowned sternly and motioned for him to continue.
Balan rubbed his knuckles against his temple and cudgeled his brain to remember details from the journey. Suddenly he remembered something.
"The tracks leading away from the battle on the hill… They were still fresh when Geraint followed them!" he exclaimed. "Bedivere told you so, remember?" Balan glanced at Geraint and thought of the road to the storage depot. "Geraint would never have missed sixty fresh tracks leading away from the main army, not if he was right on their tail."
Ruccius glared at him, but refrained from commenting.
Balan sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. If the sixty Woads had neither left prior to the battle on the hill, nor afterwards on the road to the depot…
"They must have left from the clearing where they fought the Romans," he concluded.
"And grew wings, did they?" Ruccius sneered. "If the tracks of the main army were fresh, those of the surprise party must have been, too. Why did Bedivere and Geraint not notice them, then?"
Balan frowned and plucked at the hem of his sleeve.
"There was another trail going east," he said slowly.
Ruccius looked up sharply. He had quite forgotten about the trail. Ruccius had to restrain himself, for he very much wished to end this game of cat and mouse with the boy to discuss the matter in more depth with the scouts. 'Not yet,' he told himself. The boy was doing remarkably well. Now that he had come this far, he deserved a chance to finish it.
"Bedivere saw hobnail prints on that trail," Balan remembered. He fell silent. Several possible scenarios were playing in front of his mind's eye.
"Perhaps the sixty Woads chased the surviving Romans to the east and then turned south towards the storage depot," he hesitated. "Or maybe the Romans chased the sixty Woads to the east, but the Woads got away…and turned south after that."
Ruccius said nothing and Balan stared into the fire with a deep furrow in his brow.
"It is also possible that the sixty Woads never turned aside from the main army. They might have crossed Hadrian's Wall behind us and followed our army to the south. But I do not think this likely."
"Why not?" demanded Ruccius.
"Because the Woads came south of the wall at least an hour and a half before we got there. They did not know we would be coming that way. So why leave sixty warriors behind to wait for us?"
Ruccius scratched his chin and nodded. Smiling broadly he stepped forward and put his hands on Balan's shoulders.
"Well done, boy," he praised. "Your excellent thinking has earned you a reprieve for your brothers. I will not whip them upon our return to the fort."
Balan's eyes widened in horror. Had Ruccius truly meant to whip Tristan, Bedivere and Geraint? He lowered his head in shame.
Ruccius ignored him. He marched to the table and spoke urgently with Tristan, Bedivere and Geraint. The four men went over every detail they had seen on the road and every choice that had been made from the moment they had left the fort. Finally they concluded that it might have been wise to follow the hobnailed tracks to the east as well.
"Let this be a lesson to us all!" Ruccius sighed irritably.
Balan was so tired that he could sleep where he stood. He longed to get away from Ruccius. All of a sudden tears burnt in his eyes. He bit his lip and surreptitiously wiped his cheeks on his sleeve. However, in the presence of three scouts there was no hiding it. Tristan put a comforting hand on his shoulder and Bedivere ruffled his hair. Balan swallowed, but more tears rolled down his cheeks and he could no longer conceal his sobs.
Ruccius stared at him with a mix of pity and disdain.
"It's been quite an ordeal for him," Bedivere said placatingly. "It was his first battle here and he's tired."
Ruccius rolled his eyes. "And he's twelve," he muttered gruffly. "Good heavens, boy, why did they take you away from your mother so soon?"
Balan felt embarrassed and was glad when Ruccius dismissed them.
Outside Ruccius' tent Balan let his tears flow freely. Tristan and Bedivere steadied him, their hands on his shoulders. Geraint stood off to the side until Balan calmed down a little.
"I hate him," Balan whispered between his tears. "Why did he do that?"
"To humiliate us," Tristan answered.
"Don't feel bad, Balan," Bedivere spoke soothingly. "This is how Ruccius vents his frustration. We don't blame you."
Geraint stretched and yawned. "Well done, lad," he muttered gruffly. "I like the way you think. And you did well under pressure. Let it go now, son. Don't waste your tears on him." He scratched his face. "I haven't eaten, I hope there's some food left." With these words he stalked away.
The army prepared for departure. The wounded were carried to the supply wagons and the light cavalry boys crowded around Lanolan and Agloval.
"How is your leg?" Sidain asked Lanolan.
Lanolan scowled and did not reply.
Agloval chuckled.
"It'll take a few months before he will regain full use of his leg. He is angry about it. Ha!"
Agloval laughed cheerfully at the sour expression on Lanolan's face.
"Personally, I welcome the free time," Agloval grinned devilishly. "No guard duty, no readiness drills, no shoveling snow, no hours in the practice yard until my butt is frozen… Instead I will lounge by the fire with my leg on a stool and a bottle of ale by my side. And my girl," he added as an afterthought. "I don't know what he is complaining about, myself!"
The boys laughed.
Lanolan angrily thumped Agloval's wounded leg, making the latter double over in pain.
"Bastard, you'll pay for that," Agloval winced.
Lanolan ignored him. He beckoned to Pelleas and said, "I believe that I owe you for saving my life. Thank you for coming back to rescue me. That was very brave of you." He nodded perfunctory at Galahad, Balan and Aggs.
Pelleas glanced uncomfortably at Lanolan and shook his head.
"I didn't save you, I would have left you to die," he confessed.
Lanolan's eyes widened in disbelief and he stared disdainfully at Balan, Galahad and Aggs, sizing them up.
"Then who…?" he began.
Not far from the supply wagon Arthur stopped to listen.
"You will have to thank Balan," snapped Galahad indignantly. "If Balan had not led us back to you, I doubt that any of us would have tried to save you."
Aggs refrained from commenting. He was a follower. He never did anything unless others told him what to do. He knew that he wouldn't have rescued Lanolan.
Lanolan looked at Balan with disgust and gritted his teeth. How could it have been the miserable runt, of all people, who had rescued him?!
He glowered and refused to speak. But Arthur approached the light cavalry boys and began to ask questions. While the boys recounted the events from the battle, more knights joined the discussion and Lanolan realized that he would have to curb his pride. Arthur and the others were praising the runt… the boy!.. for his loyalty and courage. Lanolan knew that he would be expected to treat the ...boy… accordingly. When the ruckus died, he pulled himself together and beckoned to Balan. He searched for the right words to say and finally settled on nodding his gratitude.
When the wagons trundled away from the storage depot, Lanolan stared at the snowy forest road behind them. He would have to change his attitude towards the boy, there was nothing for it.
AN: To all my lurkers: Thank you for reading! Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, by the way. ;)