Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 2 - Metamorphosis

Feeling light hearted now, I pulled on the leather trousers and fastened them securely about my waist before slipping my new, white tunic over my head, feeling the softness of the stuff with which it was lined. Even on the quilted breast and short sleeves and almost knee length skirts of this garment, which would seldom if ever be seen by anyone, Tressa had worked designs of flowers and plants in silken threads, her needlework so delicate and fine that the depictions seemed to be an integral part of the tunic's fabric.

Finally, I picked up the leather top piece and looked at it closely before putting it on. It hung open in front, and from its middle depended two lengths of leather belt, one three times the length of the other and each of them made from braided strips of differently coloured leather, yellow and blue. I pulled on this coat and flexed my shoulders, arching my back and trying to find tightness anywhere, but the soft, buttery leather hung perfectly, shaped to my size and width without constricting my shoulder blades. The garment hung open and loose in front of me and the longer of the two belts hung from the right side. I fed that end through a vertical hole, edged with fine stitching, in the central seam of the left side and pulled it tight, flattening the front right flap across my belly. Then I brought the belt around my back, pulling the left flap into place and tying the two ends in place at my right side, allowing the ends to hang free. I could not see the finished effect, but I knew it must be fine.

The lower part of the coat, beneath my waist, was cut into wide fringes, much like armoured flaps, a thumb's length wide. The flaps themselves were decorated handsomely, stamped in relief with a simple, Celtic scroll pattern and outlined in blue stitch work. Similarly, the shoulders of the coat were of multiple layers, stiff as armour, and from them smaller leather flaps hung down to frame my upper arms in wide fringes of blue and gold. A pair of fleece lined boots in the same soft, supple leather completed the array. I laced them up quickly, enjoying the solid feel of their heavy, nail studded soles and knowing that I would have to be careful to walk upon carpets here in the upper chambers, where the floors woe made of highly polished, decorative wood.

Tressa was waiting for me at the top of the broad stairs that led down to the main part of the house, and from the smile on her face I knew she was happy with the results of all her work. As we descended the stairway together, Dedalus gave an appreciative, drawn out whistle that was sheer lechery, although it was intended sarcastically for me, not for Tressa. I decided to ignore his ill manners, but I could not resist pausing at the foot of the stairs and preening, showing off the craftsmanship that had gone into my new garments. All four of them then, Ambrose, Arthur, Ded and Llewellyn, acknowledged my sartorial splendour and complimented Tressa sincerely. She nodded her head graciously, well pleased, and left us alone.

Ambrose cut immediately to the heart of the matters we had to discuss that day. Connor and Brander's party had already left Camulod, shortly after daybreak, and had been adamant that I not be disturbed from my rest, since we had made our farewells the previous night. Now Ambrose wanted me to go with him to meet his Northumbrian guests.

In my confusion over the lateness of the hour and my delight over my new clothing, I had completely forgotten that this was the day Connor and Brander were to leave, . but the reminder offered an immediate explanation for Arthur's mood, which was somewhat subdued and faintly melancholy. Morag was gone from him again, and I knew the best thing I could do was turn the boy's attention towards what lay ahead of him.

"Your Northumbrians, are they assembled yet?"

"No, but they are waiting for our summons. "

"That is good, because I have not eaten yet and we have another matter to discuss before we come to them. Let's see if we can beg some scraps from Plato's pantry. "

A short time later, the five of us sat around a table in one of the storerooms flanking the Villa's enormous kitchens, helping ourselves from the heaps of food Plato had piled before us. There was bread, newly baked and still warm from the oven, tiny, fresh apples, plums and pears from the gardens in the central yard and a wide variety of cold cuts of whole meat and spiced sausages. There was also a choice of fresh milk from the barns or well watered vinum. Once satisfied that starvation was not to be my lot that day, I turned to Llewellyn.

"Someone told Arthur last night that he is to return to Cambria with you, and he was taken unawares, since he knew nothing about it and did not—does not—know you. It occurred to me then that you know equally little of him, and yet you'll be responsible for him while he is in your care, so I decided to tell you something about him while he is present to hear it. He is an adequate bowman, perhaps slightly below average at this stage. It is my hope that you will refine his shooting skills while he is in your care. He has the makings of an excellent swordsman, according to his teachers, Rufio and Dedalus, though I know he'll have little use for swordsman's skills among your folk. He's also bred to horseback and that, too, will have to change in your homeland—under your tutorial influence, he will learn to use his legs and increase his wind and stamina... You should also be aware that he can read and write Latin with perfect fluency, and has read widely in his great grandfather's books. " I glanced at Arthur to see his expression before continuing. The lad was narrow eyed, listening closely.

"I've told you, I believe, that his great grandfather, Publius Varrus, was a master ironsmith and a maker of superb weapons. He even taught me something of his craft in my boyhood, albeit very little. But little as it was, I still remember much of it, and it taught me a great respect for swords and for the iron from which they are made. " Now I turned directly to Arthur. "Llewellyn, here, is also a master smith, and it is my hope that he'll consent to teach you something of his craft. It could teach you much about why the weapon you prefer, the sword, contains the greatness that it does. It should also teach you to respect the properties of the materials—all materials—with which you must work, be they metals or men.

"You commented last night on the fact that my friend here wears a mask, and I responded harshly and, I fear, wrongly. " I paused, and Arthur looked mortified. "As you grow older you will learn, as all of us have learned, that all men wear masks of one kind or another, some of them as seemingly harmless as a smile, although that smile may be the most deceitful mask of all. All of us seek, at some time, to conceal what lies beneath our faces. Many do so because they fear their treachery will shine through their skin. Some, a compassionate and unfortunate few, wear masks to spare the people who surround them from pain, or fear, or embarrassment. " I turned back to Llewellyn. "Will you remove your mask, my friend?"

He must have sensed what I was about, because he straightened slightly and then simply pulled the narrow headband that secured it up over his skull. The silence that greeted the sight of his ruined face was profound, and he grinned, the good side of his face smiling while the left side grimaced hideously, baring his eyetooth through the hole in his cheek.

'This is the true mask, " he said, speaking directly to Arthur. Then he held up the leather flap with its stark eyeholes. "This one is merely a curtain. Don't feel badly about how you feel, I've had a lifetime to grow hardened to that. Mine is a face to frighten children, I know, but I never see it. I spent years hating myself and everyone around me, for I did not always look like this, and I remembered how it was before I was disfigured. But in recent years I have learned that some people, friends, can see beyond the scars and horror. I have a wife who loves me and respects me. I have children who have seen no other face on me, and therefore accept me as I am, for who I am. I've learned to live with it."