Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 2 - Metamorphosis

For the remainder of that day I had but one pressing priority. I reconvened the officers and apologized for the interruption of our session, after which I set them to drawing up rosters of activities that would keep our troops occupied and usefully employed during the time we must wait for Huw's return. That done, I handed command over to Donuil, as adjutant, and withdrew to my own tent to bring my diurnal log up to date.

The wording of the first two sentences I wrote that day has remained bright in my memory, because they fell so far short of the truth that, when I read them again later, I laughed aloud at the power we have to surprise ourselves with our own ineptitude. "Connor has returned unexpectedly, " I wrote, "in possession of one of Ironhair's biremes. Now, after months of inaction, it appears that things might start to change. " Well, change they did.

It began the following day, just before noon, when a squadron of cavalry arrived from Camulod. I had been expecting no word from home and I strode out to meet them, my insides knotted with apprehension, since here, I suspected, could be no good tidings. My apprehension flared into fear when I recognized the officer in charge as one of the junior tribunes I had last seen leaving Camulod with Ambrose, headed north.

"You should be with my brother, " I snapped at the man, as he stood rigidly to attention in front of me. "Why are you here, and where is he?"

"The Legate Commander Ambrose is safe and well in Northumbria with King Vortigern, Commander Merlyn. He dispatched me immediately upon our arrival there to put your mind at rest as to his welfare, since he now believes he might be detained in Northumbria for slightly longer than he originally thought. I came with all speed, stopping but briefly in Camulod to gain fresh horses. I bear dispatches, sir, for your attention. This from the Legate Commander, and the smaller is from the Legate Dedalus, in Camulod. "

I took the two carrying cases young Sulla held Out to me and thanked him kindly for his trouble, feeling somewhat guilty now for the coldness of my initial greeting. I sent him off with Donuil, accompanied by his men, then dismissed everyone else and withdrew to my tent.

Once confident that I would remain undisturbed, I found myself postponing the moment when I would open up the thick leather wallet that contained Ambrose's dispatches. I poured myself a cup of ale and made myself comfortable in my folding chair, tilting it back onto its hind legs as I sat with my feet up on the old, scarred campaign desk that had been my father's and his father's before that, rubbing the thick leather of the wallet with my thumb. At length, however, I had to admit to myself that I was merely putting off the inevitable, and I untied the thongs that bound the wallet tight There were two scrolls in the receptacle, one of them much heavier than the other, and I saw at first glance that they were not both from Ambrose. His letter bore his seal, a floral emblem petalled like a daisy, with his personal crest of an eagle's head embossed in the centre. The other bore a common seal of wax, pressed flat with the point of a knife. I smiled as I broke it and unrolled the single sheet of papyrus covered with small, tightly compressed letters. It was from Arthur, the first letter I had ever received from him, and it showed evidence of torturous effort in its composition, with many words written and then struck out afterwards.

The Legate Commander Caius Merlyn Britannicus

Greetings, Cousin:

I write this on the instructions of the Legate Commander Ambrose, who has decided that I must learn the power of words on papyrus. As part of my assigned duties each day, I now must keep a daily log, presenting it to him for his inspection and approval each morning.

I fi

n

d the writing difficult.

The writing of the log is not, in itself, difficult, but the selection of the proper words, to describe events

without being too

precisely, without wasting time or space, consumes much time.

We have come safely to Lindum, where Vortigern the King now keeps his strength, after moving south from his former stronghold in Eboracum three years ago. We are quartered in the ancient Roman fort of Lindum itself, which is being fortified anew, with stone walls being erected atop the old, earthen walls. We had no trouble on the wad, except for one incident which I unfortunately missed, when a small party of our advance scouts was waylaid by a band of wandering brigands who outnumbered them by five to one. The brigands had never fought armed horsemen before, and they fared ill. I wish I had been there.

Our troopers have struck wonder into all the people here in Lindum. Nothing like them has ever been seen in these lands. King Vortigern would be well pleased were we to stay here, but Ambrose has told him that we must return. Ambrose, I felt, was as unhappy to say so as the King was to hear it. He has much loyalty to Vortigern, from former times, I think. We are to make one great, rapid sweep around the King's main holdings here, in company with Vortigern, before we leave. Ambrose plans to penetrate the great forests to the south and east, to show our strength to the Danes and Saxons living there.

I am really looking

Sadly, Ambrose says we will not fight, but that we will appear prepared to fight. King Vortigern has never ridden in a saddle with stirrups, and he says that he is now too old to learn, so he will ride bareback as he always has.

Ambrose says that when we have completed that long sweep, we will leave for home immediately, but I hope that he will bring us directly to Cambria and that the war will still be in progress.

I look forward to seeing you again. Greet Bedwyr for me. I wonder if he has blooded his sword yet.

Arthur.

I read the epistle three times, smiling more broadly each time as I imagined the effort the boy had put into its composition. I sympathized utterly with him, recalling clearly my own laborious attempts at writing down my thoughts when I was even older than he now was. The stricken out words and the few blots that marred the sheet delighted me particularly, since they showed that Arthur had not yet progressed sufficiently along the path to have realized that a letter could be drafted first, painfully and messily, then rewritten completely. Well, I thought, he would soon learn all of that, just as surely as he would learn not to yearn for the death and violence of war. That thought, with all its implications, robbed me of any further desire to smile, and I turned to Ambrose's letter.

Lindum.

Ambrose Britannicus to Caius Merlyn Britannicus;

Hail, Brother!

I wonder which of these two missives you will open first? My intuition tells me that, despite your need to learn the status quo here in the northeast from me, your natural decision will be to read what Arthur has to say first. I must remember to ask you, when next we meet.

Vortigern is well and, to my delight, living in Lindum, which has permitted me to spend some time with my adoptive parents, Jacob and Gwilla. You have never met Gwilla, my mother's sister, but she has asked me to convey her best wishes to you, and so has Jacob, who remembers you well.

The King is as healthy and as ambitious as he ever was, and the knowledge came as a pleasant surprise. I truly had expected that he would be dead, and that his territories would be torn by civil war, but that is not the case. He has great problems, nevertheless, all of them emanating from Hengist's brat Horsa, but it has not come to open war between them, to this point. I have little faith it will remain that way, however. Horsa, from all I hear, has been preparing for war in earnest now for several years and has amassed a mighty army—five to ten thousand warriors, depending upon the source one listens to—which, to this time, he has kept firmly based far south and east of here, among the great marshes of the coastal fens. From there, they have historically raided south, against the Saxon newcomers established there, and that honours the bargain made initially with Vortigern—to help him keep his kingdom free of Saxon invaders—and has led to the precarious, hostile peace that has prevailed up here for years now.