Arthur II; Artorius, Myth and Legend Chapter 2

2.

Artorius stripped off his armour and then seated himself by the fire place in the tent assigned to him. It was not a huge tent but it was comfortable for a company of four with the space for the table and chair that he worked on nightly. A small fire was lit on the brazier there and offered him the rare comfort on the march. He was then given a plate with the hot broth of meat and vegetable. He took the wooden spoon offered to him and then looked to the aide of his.

“Optio Lamorak, tell me of the others. Are they fed and are…”

“Prime, the legionaries are taken care of.” The Optio took his place next to the Prime. He held a huge stout frame with the unshaven chin. He had on his armour with the long sword but the gladius was on the right. His dagger was strapped to the right thigh with the leather lashings.

“I have them rested by the fires and the sentries are on the wall.” Lamorak replied. Artorius smiled at his competent aide, and then asked on the Elites.

“Those imbeciles are south of us scouring for the best patch of land.” Lamorak held little regards for those he had termed as greedy citizens. “How much of God’s little garden do they want? They are impossible.”

“They are Roman citizens and deserved our protection.” Artorius knew the aide of his was going for the subject. Lamorak had earned his mark from battles just like his father before him. His family had paid for their land with blood, and he found those elites took theirs with their deceit and wealth. He had not liked the elites to ride with the legionaries but the order of the Emperor was clear; “Our citizen will fill the land with our farms, and our wealth.”

“Stop your dislike for them, Lamorak. They deserved to be here. It’s their…”

“Wealth…. I know. They are well defended with the mercenaries and yet they run to us on the slightest provocations or threat. I am tired of defending them.” Lamorak helped himself to the plate. “Good men have served in the Legions, and their death were ignored.”

“It’s untrue, Optio.” Artorius drew rank then. “The legionaries have sacrificed their life for the Empire. They did not die for the Elites.”

Optio Lamorak kept his silence with mouth filled with the hot meal, while he looked away. He saw the Decurio and Galahad approaching the tent. 

“Join us, Percival. Galahad.” Artorius dropped the formality to greet the Decurio. “How fared the cavalry?”

“They are fine, Prime. I have my brothers assigned to tend the horses.” Galahad replied before he took a seat next to Lamorak. He took up the plate on the table to help himself the food. Percival took the seating next to Artorius and settled for a malt drink to keep the cold at bay.

“You are strict on your brothers.” Artorius looked at Galahad. “Spare them the punishment. They done well to protect you.”

“Killing is the final option. They could had captured them alive, or at worse, wound them for we need slaves.”

“What is a wounded slave out here? They rather die than to be slaves.” Lamorak replied. “How fare the old lady?”

“She marched back to the northern lands. She will exact her vengeance on us soon when she tells the barbarians there of our camp.” Percival sighed. “Why are we back here? Was not this wall abandoned before? It failed and why are we back?”

It was a tough question then, and only Artorius could reply.

“We are back here on the command of the Emperor. The barbarians have reached the farms before us, They are running wild here.”

“Like in Gaul before we tamed them.” Lamorak replied. “I am for the battle, but …”

“Saved your breath on the elites, Lamorak. We know your grievances.” Percival mocked the other. At the fire place, all of them were equals without ranks. He then looked at Artorius. “Tell us of this wall. Was it named Antoinne?”

“Yes, it was. It was then when Emperor Antoninus Pius had it built some years back but he soon abandoned it. It was when we were needed elsewhere. Recently, our new Emperor Septimius Severus re-established legions at the wall and ordered repairs; this has led to the wall being referred to as the Severan Wall.”

“Yet another attempt to claim this evil land.” Lamorak muttered out. It was then rumours that the land which the wall was built on was cursed by the local breed of wizards; they were also called the druids. “The land is cursed by the Druids. I thought we had enough of them in Gaul?”

“And did you have enough of the wenches from there? I am sure there are some among the slaves.” Percival replied. “I …”

It was then the alert from the sentries resonated in the camp. All four of them stood up.

“Check the alert!” Artorius called out. He then stepped out with his long sword drawn. Lamorak stood next to him while the other two took for their mounts.

“The barbarian was seen there.” The legionnaire reported to Percival when he arrived at the wall. He looked out to the vast land on the northern side. There was nothing there but flat terrain. “I am sure I saw him.”

Percival looked to the other; a veteran of the campaign and knew him not to shout false alerts. He turned to Galahad who had joined him.

“Send words to the others. I want to the sentries on alert. No one sleeps tonight ….until we have the wall restored.” Percival then re-mounted his horse. “I will look ahead.”

“Hold onto your action, Decurio.” Galahad snapped back to the formal rank call. “If you ride out there, I am coming too.”

“No, Galahad. I want you here. I will be fine. Its not my first ride into the unknown.” Percival spurred his horse onwards. He was still in his armour and rode hard. He wanted to cover the distance to the nearby hill to have a better view of the land. He rode in the darkness with his eyes sweeping on both sides, expecting any attack then. He saw then the flaming arrows that landed ahead of him and smiled. Only Galahad would do that and the flames gave him some better sight of the terrain.

Percival reached the hill and stopped. He looked around for any signs of the unknown barbarian and then he saw the signs. There were some foot marks on the wet ground and the prints lead to the shallow valley. He looked there and saw the feeling figure. He estimated the distance to be a hundred and fifty yards. He grabbed his bow; the long on like Galahad. He notched the arrow in and estimated the distance.

A hundred and eighty then.

Percival raised the bow. He looked to sight his target but it was not there.

“Darn!” Percival scoured the valley. He disliked to lose a target.

“Did you see anyone?” It was Galahad.

“Yes, only a ghost.” Percival replied. He had seen some one who could do that from his days at Gaul. He knew that ghost as Lancelot.

Lancelot was not from Gaul. He was from Normandy but he resides where the battles were. He was a warrior; looking to be bested by the better ones if there were any.  He had not lost a fight from what Percival heard from the others.

“Do we withdraw?” Galahad was trying to hold his mount which was getting jittery. It was the horse reaction when it sensed danger. He saw Percival turned to ride back. It was a relief.

Galahad was not keen to die that evening.

Not on this cursed wall.