Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 2 - Metamorphosis

There was some discussion of who would accompany me and who would remain, but I made short work of that, having no patience with the democratic process In time of extremity. Donuil would ride with me, as would Tressa and Shelagh; Ded would come, too, and Benedict, and Bedwyr, together with a score of our best troopers, selected by Dedalus. Philip would remain behind, in overall command, with Falvo and Rufio. Their orders were to bring our thousand home to Camulod as quickly as they could. Germanus and his party were close enough now to Verulamium to make it safely on their own.

I dismissed everyone then, and sought my bed, determined, if not to sleep, at least to seek some rest for my aching bones and body while I wrestled with my fears.

In spite of all my anxiety and the turmoil in my soul, I slept heavily, awakening with a cry of fear from some dark dream only when Dedalus came into my tent and shook me by the shoulder in the darkness before dawn. He had had people working through the night, preparing marching rations for our journey—enough to last us for ten days, at least, should we be forced to rely on them alone for sustenance—and our horses were saddled and ready, an extra mount for each of us. The score of troopers who would ride with us were waiting in the darkness, highlighted intermittently by flames from the high piled fires. I was fully dressed and tying the long, dark shaft of the Varrus bow securely beneath my saddle flaps when Germanus found me. He embraced me in silence, then held me by the shoulders, gazing into my eyes.

"Go with God, my Mend, " he said. "And I hope you will find it in your heart not to think badly of me for removing you from Camulod at this of all times. My prayers for your swift and safe homecoming will assail the ears of God Himself, beseeching Him to set His heavenly hosts to watch over you on the road. When you have dealt with this threat and come home safe, remember what we spoke of in my tent. Enos will stay in constant touch with you and will bring word from each of us to the other with no needless loss of time. I'll pray we meet again next year, at Eastertide, to share the celebration of our heavenly and earthly kings. Farewell, and journey safely. "

I sighed, and clasped his arms above the elbow. "Pray hard, old Mend, and often, for I fear we'll all need prayers. Arthur is in Cambria, alone with Llewellyn, and none know who he is, so he may yet be safe. If we emerge alive fro this travail, we'll see him crowned just as you described and Christian Britain will have a Christian King."

He turned away and kissed Tressa and Shelagh on either cheek, then blessed our party and stepped back.

I looked about me from my saddle. A throng of our me had gathered to see us leave, but they were silent, shroud still in the dark of night, black among the blackness. I saw Philip standing close by, flanked by Falvo and Rufio, an I raised my right hand to my helmet, acknowledging the' presence. All three snapped to attention and saluted me, an' I heard the metallic clatter of armguards against cuirasses as the throng about us did the same. I swallowed hard an nodded once again, abruptly, afraid to trust my voice speak without betraying me, then swung my horse around and led the way out from the firelight in search of the road home to Camulod.

Despite the Bishop's promised prayers for succour on our journey, it quickly became evident that God and His heavenly host had others matters on their minds while we were travelling, for our progress was a nightmare from the outset. More than a hundred miles of unknown territory lay between us and our destination, with dangers at every step of the way. We were beset with conflicting urgencies that kept us angry and frustrated: my overriding temptation, andmy prime imperative, was to move with the utmost speed,' but the paradox therein was that the utmost speed involved far too much slowness. Festina lente was the ancient watchword of the Romans, hurry slowly, and we were constrained to recognize the truth in the old warning. We could not put the spurs into our mounts and ride flat out; we had to conserve their strength and nurture their endurance lest we kill them on the road, leaving ourselves on foot. And so we chafed against the discipline of travel but endured it, changing gait each quarter hour, from walk to trot to canter, then galloping and reining in to canter, then to trot, and then to walk again.

We seldom took time to rest in daylight, and then we always stopped beside a running stream, tending to our ablutions hastily, splashing ourselves with water and shocking ourselves back to reality with its cold kiss. We were filthy, and we soon began to stink of sweat, human and equine, and of other, less pleasant things. The women suffered far more than the men, as it transpired, for I discovered that both were going through their menses, and the discomfort and inconvenience that entailed must have been almost more than they could bear, atop the agonies of all else. We rode long into the night when the skies were clear and the moon bright enough to light our way" and therein we were fortunate; the first three nights were clear and cloudless and the moon was almost full. Only when the moon went down and darkness thickened sufficiently to hamper us did we unsaddle our horses and fall down to sleep for a few hours, rolled in our blankets on the open ground.

Twice in the first two days we encountered bands of alien looters and marauders, but we were fortunate enough to see them before they could see us and so avoided detection. But the knowledge that such bands were abroad along our route took its toll on us, so that by the end of the fourth day, somewhere amid gentle, rolling hills long miles from anywhere, we were all reeling from exhaustion and I realized that this was folly. Festina lente, I reminded myself, more haste, less speed! We found a dense copse of low trees and made a camp that night, pitching our leather, one man legionary tents and posting guards on two hour watches, and although we did not dare to ignite a fire, we all slept soundly for the first time since leaving our companion.

Some time in the middle of that night, I awoke to sound of rain striking my tent, and as I listened, it quickly to a solid downpour. All the world was wet when we broke camp, cursing the slimy wetness of our tents we sought to roll and secure them, and we rode that day in a huddle of misery, eating from our rations of roast grain and nuts in the saddle as we went and wishing our woollen travelling cloaks were denser, warmer and more heavily waxed. Early in the afternoon, one horse slipped heavily the mud of an incline and went down, breaking a foreleg Fortunately, its rider was unhurt, merely winded by his fall but we had to kill the screaming horse quickly, for fear that unfriendly ears might hear its agony. The trooper change to his spare horse after distributing its load among his mates and we moved on, beginning now to penetrate a heavily forested region of low hills where an occasional bare cliff face reared above the trees.

I remember my face being chilled from the rain that streamed down from my helmet to spill sideways from the hinges of its face protecting cheek flaps and flow down my jaws on either side, and I remember comparing our current journey to the progress we had made on our outward expedition. Then, we had ridden slowly, the air about us filled with the sound of laughing voices and the squeaks, groans clinks and rattles of saddle harness, wagon springs and turning wheels. Now we pressed forward grimly, silently, each rider struggling with his or her own discomfort and worst fears, the world about us blocked by the sound of hurrying horses' hooves and the steady, constant hiss of driving rain. From time to time in the early stages Tress or one of the others would try to speak to me, hoping to comfort me or to take my mind off the troubles that beset me, but eventually all conversation ceased and we drove forward in bleak, miserable silence.