Jack Whyte - The Saxon Shore

"I have no fear on those grounds, Luke. I want to learn, and am prepared to spend the time required."

"I told you, it will take years, Cay."

"I have years."

"Hmm. Tell me . . ." He paused, blowing out his breath noisily, and then began again. "How can you be so certain of all this, and so suddenly?"

"It's not sudden, Luke. I have been bred towards seeing that truth, and to recognise it for what it became. I saw it but recently, that is all."

"What? What did you see?"

"A dream." I grinned at him, feeling the euphoria of conviction sweep over me. "I had a dream, and recognised it. I've had them all my life and spent my life running away from them. Now I know them for what they are. I'll tell you about them some time, I promise you. But not today. I've astounded you sufficiently for one day."

"Aye," he agreed. "You have that."

"So, when can we start my lessons?"

"I knew you were going to ask me that." He sounded both resigned and regretful. "Cay, I have no idea. At this moment, my mind is completely blank on the matter of a simple starting point. In fact, I don't believe there is any such thing as a simple starting point. You have caught me completely unprepared." He thought for a moment. "Look, it's going to take some time for you to reach Donuil's home and then return. How long do you estimate you'll be away?"

I shrugged. "As long as is necessary. It may take a month, but I doubt I could be so fortunate as to find everything progresses as smoothly as I would wish it to. It could take half a year."

"Hmm. Well, will you grant me that time to consider how we can approach this matter of your training?"

"Absolutely, but my program of celibacy is already under way." I picked up my bow and dropped the single arrow back into my quiver. "We have talked for long enough. I think it's time I checked on our companions." I glanced over my shoulder into the body of the wagon and noticed a large iron pot, filled with cloth-wrapped bundles, among the profusion of crates and packages that filled most of the wagon bed. "What's that for?" I asked. "The cooking pot."

"For cooking in." He was grinning. "It's not as frivolous as you might think. Remember, I told you that these people have nothing. I meant that quite literally. Cooking pots rust and wear out. It occurred to me, while I was preparing this load, that an extra one might be appreciated."

I had been on the point of leaping down from the wagon, but now I sat down again, struck by what he had said, and before I had completed the movement, my mind was made up. "You know, I never would have thought of that?" I turned my head, scanning the woods on either side of the road. They encroached closely, all evidence of open grassland long since fallen behind us. "Look," I said, "we still have seen no signs, other than footprints, of whoever it is that's been following us, and they may have given up long since. But whether they have or not, the fact remains that you and your cargo here are too valuable to allow me to put you at risk by leaving you alone before you reach your friend Emancipatus. Half a mile can be too far from help if you run into trouble. Ten miles is out of the question, and yet it's but a couple of hours' journey. We'll stay with you until we've seen you safely arrived. No buts, Luke—my mind's made up." I had seen the protest forming in his eyes, and now he smiled and nodded, acquiescing.

"So be it," he murmured. "Thank you."

"No need. I'll be back." I swung myself down, collected my horse from the tail of the wagon and rode to join Donuil and Rufio at the head of our column.

We camped that night beneath the trees, and split the watch into two-hour, four-man shifts, so that none of us had more than four consecutive hours of sleep, but there were no alarms and we found no footprints around our camp the following morning other than our own. Our escort had vanished as silently as it had come. We made good time again throughout a. morning that brought showers and a blustery wind, and came to the inn of the Red Dragon before noon, stopping there to eat. After our meal, I had gone to relieve myself among the bushes by the road—repelled by the stench in the public latrine attached to the hostelry—and I was reentering the courtyard when I noticed Donuil standing in a comer, by the door to one of the outhouses, staring down at his feet. Curious, I walked over to see what he was looking at, and there, clearly outlined in the moist dirt of the yard, was the signature that had been absent from our campsite: the giant feet and the tiny.

"Damnation! Have you seen any sign of these people?" Donuil shook his head. "They could be anywhere now, hiding in one of these buildings or far gone on the road to wherever they came from." I was looking around me as I spoke, angry at myself for not having checked the place thoroughly on our arrival, but it was too late now to do anything useful. "Well, that's wonderful," I said acerbically. "From now on we'll ride with scouts out, although not too far away to be cut off. I hope we come upon these people. I'm just in the frame of mind to deal with them now. Roust out the others and let's be on our way."

Donuil was looking at me in puzzlement. "What are you talking about, Merlyn? Have you seen these footprints before?"

"Of course I have! You have too. They belong to the people who have been following us. They were all around our campsite the night before last, and the night before that, too. Don't tell me you didn't see them."

He shook his head. "No, I didn't. I knew you had found tracks. Rufio mentioned that, but I didn't see any need to go and look at them."

"Then why are you looking at them now, if they have no significance to you?"

"Oh, they have a significance." He was staring down at the marks again. He looked up at me again, the beginnings of a smile dawning in his eyes. "If these belong to the people I think they do, then you can forget about being attacked, unless you decide to do harm to me." He saw my mystification and grinned. "I believe, although I could be wrong, that these footprints were made by two of my father's most trusted men, a giant called Logan and a midget called Feargus. If I'm right, then they're watching over me, which means that Connor came safely home, with the child, and has told my father of meeting you." He nodded his head. "Aye, that would be the way of it. My father would have sent them off to find Camulod and you, and to discover what had become of me."

"You know these people!"

"They are my friends."

"Then why would they not come forward and say so?"

He grinned again and shook his head. "Come, Caius Merlyn, are you serious? They are Outlanders, remember? Would you have them trust your open honesty and goodwill without ever having met you? What would you have done if they had confronted you when I was not around? You would have cut them down."

There was no disputing his reasoning. I shrugged my shoulders. "Aye," I said, "I would have. But not now. Call them in now."

Donuil was still smiling. "I can't, Commander. They are not here. They would have faded away once they discovered where we were headed. We might pick them up again on the road. I'll be watching out from now on, now that I know who I'm looking for. But still, as I said, I could be wrong, so I'll do as you said and roust out the others. There might well be another two sets of feet like those in Britain, but until we know one way or the other, we'll do well to be ready for anything."

Some three hours later, Rufio came riding back towards me over the crest of a hill, and even from afar I could tell by the way he moved that he had ill news to report. I had been riding slightly ahead of our little party, swathed in my war cloak against the chilling rain, and had just returned to ride alongside Luke's wagon.