William Wu - Invader

“I see.”

Steve and Hunter walked out of the gate and down the cobbled road. The new recruits were slowly mounting and lining up, with several burly men in leather jerkins shouting orders. One man on a large bay waited silently, watching them all. Hunter walked up to him.

“Are you Lucius? We are Hunter and Steve.”

“Yes. What do you want?” Lucius studied Hunter with interest.

“We wish to volunteer and ride with Artorius against the Saxons.”

“Hmm. We can always use a man of your stature, if we have a horse to carry your weight.” Lucius glanced at Steve. “Do you speak our language?”

“Yes, I speak British.”

“From where do you come?”

“From the eastern side of the Roman Empire. We have been in Gaul until recently.”

“Gaul?”

“My wife and I fled Linnuis ahead of the Saxons,” said Hunter. “The three of us arrived here last night.”

“Well, you are no Saxons. Do you ride? Have you fought before?”

“We both can ride,” said Hunter. “However, we have not fought much.”

“Do you have horses?”

“No.”

Lucius frowned. “I feared so. We are always short of good horses.”

“You are taking new recruits,” said Hunter. “Will you take us or not?”

“The personal troop of Artorius has its full complement of three hundred,” Lucius said sternly. “But word has gone out for last year’s veterans to come from their farms and villages. Most of them will have their own mounts and a few may bring new ones, too.” He pointed to the wooden building on the slope behind the new recruits. “I will see if you can ride or not. Go to the tack building and tell the groom to mount you.”

“We have no weapons,” said Hunter.

“The armorer’s store stands on the near side of the building,” said Lucius. “Stop there first and tell him to outfit you. And hurry; we will ride out soon.”

Steve followed Hunter through the crowd of men and horses. Ahead, Steve saw the armorer standing outside a wooden building watching them come. He was a short man with long, gray hair and beard. When he turned and moved inside the building, he walked with a pronounced limp.

By the time Steve and Hunter reached the building, the armorer had come outside again. He tossed two round wooden shields on the ground in front of them and then dropped two short swords on the shields. Without a word, he limped back into the building.

“I guess he knew what we wanted when he saw us coming,” said Steve, picking up a sword and shield. “No swordbelts or scabbards, though.”

“Roman short swords,” said Hunter. “British shields. I suppose the armor will be made of leather.”

“So it is,” said the armorer gruffly as he came out again. He leaned two spears against the wall of the building. “But not for you, friend. You’re too big. I’ll have to boil a new hide and slap it on you when you ride back this afternoon.”

“Boil it?” Steve asked.

The armorer snickered, revealing broken teeth. “A first-timer, eh? Well, you’ll learn.” He reached inside the door and pulled out a large, rigid piece of leather, about the size and shape of Steve’s torso. It bent at the shoulders, with a hole for his head; the bottom was cut short at the waist. Thongs dangled from holes along each side. “Lace those on.”

Steve slipped it over his head and onto his chest and abdomen. “It’s hard.”

“Boiled leather will turn a blade almost as well as steel,” said the armorer. “It just wears out faster, over time. But if you had the money to buy steel, you’d be wearing it.”

Hunter moved to Steve’s side and began lacing the leather armor on him.

“How do you get the shape?” Steve asked.

“I boil it in a vat of water till it’s nice and soft. Then I slap on your body steaming hot, and you’d better be wearing a tunic when I do.” The armorer grinned. “It takes the shape of your body and cools that way.”

“I see. Uh, what happened to the guy this belonged to before?”

“He died of a fever.” The armorer stepped back inside again and came out with two conical caps. “Here.” He tossed a cap to each of them.

Steve put on the cap. A leather band inside the rim padded it somewhat. It fit him well enough.

A boy of about ten led two horses up to them, already saddled and bridled.

“The groom saw you coming,” he said shyly to Hunter. “We got you the biggest horse we have.”

“Thank you.” Hunter took the reins and mounted. “He will be fine.”

Steve slipped his shield on his’ left arm and carefully stuck a sword through the belt of his tunic. Then he mounted the second horse, which pranced and shook. He kept control of his mount, however. The armorer handed him his spear.

“He’s a good horse,” said the boy. “But he spent all winter in pasture. He’s only three and he hasn’t had a rider since last fall.”

“I like him,” said Steve. “Hunter, the troop is riding out. We’d better go.”

“Yes.” Hunter reached down to take his spear from the armorer. “Thank you, friends.”

Steve and Hunter rode back across the slope and followed the rear of the troop out the main gate at the base of the tor. The morning air was still cool, but the clouds overhead had begun to scatter. Steve grinned with excitement, wondering what Lucius would have the troop do.

They did not ride far. In the open, rolling country outside Cadbury, Lucius ordered the troop to split into squads, ordering each to fallout and drill separately. Because the squads formed immediately, Steve saw that they had already been assigned.

Hunter and Steve rode up to Lucius, who had reined up on the crest of a hill to observe the troop.

“We are ready, friend,” Hunter said heartily. “Where should we go?”

“Eh? Oh, yes.” Lucius pointed to a nearby squad. “These are squads of ten, but that one is short. Your squad leader, Cynric, will drill you.”

Steve followed Hunter to the squad. A short, stocky man had been shouting orders to the group. Just as Steve and Hunter reached them, Cynric raised his spear and turned his horse. He led the squad away in a canter.

Steve kicked his own mount and followed. His young horse eagerly took off. Hunter’s mount also moved into a canter, more reluctantly. Steve left him behind as the squad rode across the open grassland.

Soon Cynric took the squad into a full gallop. Then, without warning, he pulled up sharply. Just as the squad gathered around him, he kicked his mount again and took off in another direction. Steve laughed and followed with everyone else.

This time, Cynric led the squad in a long, sweeping curve back toward their starting point. Three of the riders took the curve too fast and lost it, angling wide; two others tried to take it too sharply and lost speed. Steve watched Cynric’s movements carefully and followed him without trouble, with two other riders. Hunter remained behind him.

Cynric stopped again on the slope near Lucius. Steve reined up behind him, and Hunter joined him a moment later. They waited for the stragglers to canter back to them.

Steve, getting a good look at the others’ faces for the first time, saw that most of them were teenagers. He supposed they had either come from villages or shepherd families. They would know how to ride casually, but not on military maneuvers.

Cynric studied Steve and Hunter with pale blue eyes. “Who are you, anyway?” His voice was gruff.

“I am Hunter. This is my friend Steve.”

“And Lucius sent you to me.”

“Yes,” said Hunter.

“Well…I don’t get a lot of grown men in this troop. You two ride better than most of these youngsters. Can you fight?”

“We have never fought on horseback,” said Hunter.