Arthur II Chapter 15

15

Decurion Galahad looked to the wall they have been laboring over the week. It was not a tough task initially with the Legionnaires assigned to the task. The stones for the wall were still there but with the weather and soft ground, some of them were embedded into the soil thus the task was to dig them out. That took time and effort. The Decurion assigned his riders to assist; using the mounts to pull the stones out and dragged it to the wall. It worked for a while and then the Optio stepped in.

“Decurion, move your Equities to do the patrols. They are best suited there. I have other help coming in.”

The Optio managed to rope in some others from the other two Cohorts at the other sections of the wall. The extra help was Legionnaires and they came with foul moods.

“We just had done our part and nowhere to help you.” It was true then that the others have done their walls for they arrived earlier and there was not much to do compare to what the First Cohort had to handle. “Trust the First Cohort to get to the bad sections of the wall. What is wrong with them? They are hasty to die or to serve the Emperor more diligently.”

Those words were not taken well by the First Cohort and fights between the Cohorts erupted on the first day of works. The Centurions had to step in and deploy discipline actions. It brought some control to the Legionnaires but the animosity was already in them.

“Decurion, do I have to repeat my order?” Optio Lamorak poured in scorn to his words. He was upset too that the Equities were excused from the works but it was also essential that the patrols go out to ensure that they do not get attacked once more.

“No, Optio. I will deploy the riders now.” That was when Decurion Percival rode off to find his riders. He split the Equities into small groups to patrol the boundary. Each group was four or five riders.

“We will patrol the land in a narrow perimeter to all sides with the northern and southern the length. I want every settlement; village or huts identified and the inhabitants counted. Do not engage if there are hostilities. Just back up and we will ride back in strength.”

He had traveled with Galahad and another four others leaving Gawain and Gaheris to take other patrols. He took the northern east route with the low hills and wide expanse of grassland. There were the clusters of trees hidden in the low valleys away from the winds which were their main search but some riders preferred to skirt the boundary than entered the area of the tree. They feared the trees may be alive but Decurion was not one to fear the unknown. He searched the area with his focus on the solitary huntsman abode to the possible witch lair. He was told that there were a few for the people there believed in such acts. They looked to the witches for everything from healing to hunting. It was soon that he found one; the old crone covered in creature furs and sporting bad hairdo and the odd bones on the walls. Galahad heard of the old lady that was spared by Gaheris.

“You Romans do not know your lines. If you cross this one, you will all die.” The old crone sat there fingering the bones in her hands. She tossed the bones onto the ground. “It spelled your demise.”

Among the Equities and also the Legionnaires, many believed in such acts but not Galahad. He was skeptical of it and had deemed his sword was the equal of these acts.

“Spare me your spells, Witch. I am just here to check on you.” Decurion Percival turned to leave the old crone to her actions. He then stopped. “If one of my men gets sick or dies from a mysterious illness, it will be you that will accompany them to the next world.”

“Mere words to scare an old lady, Roman. I have seen more than that. Go back to your camp. The dead will seek you soon.” The lady told the departing Decurion who had refused to listen but one of his riders had dropped some coins for the lady and whispered some request for protection. The lady laughed at the rider who had then joined the others. They rode out and then the sounds of fighting came to their ears. It was near to the wall.

“Ride!” Decurion called out. They rode hard towards the wall and saw at a distance the single rider slashing at two others on foot. “Stop! I demand you stop.” 

Lawnslot heard the call but he was fighting the two Roman’s Auxiliaries who had challenged him. One of them who was holding a spear was leading them. He knew that he had to retreat. He turned his horse and rode towards the west.

“You two catch the rider. I will handle the one there.” Decurion Percival rode straight for the standing two Auxiliaries. When he approached the figures, he was shocked by the sight. They were a dirty unkempt group in the tattered tunic and one was holding the long spear. It was a pilum that was held by the Legionnaire.

“Who are you? And where is your unit?”

“We are Auxiliaries. We are leaving the Legion. We will travel back to our land. We will not fight here in this wild land. It’s infested with evil and demons.”

“Return to your unit or faced desertion charges,” Percival warned them. They took up their weapons and charged at Percival. He spurred his mount to avoid the attack. He grabbed his bow but one of the riders had dismounted and approached the two deserters. The rider held the gladius with both his hands. He then went in for the kill. He cut at the upper limb holding the spear and severing it with the skin left holding the severed arm. He then swung the gladius in a backward move towards the neck. The blade cut into the side of the head on the right and was stuck there.

“Sparus, help here.” The rider called out. The other rider rode in with the mount and slashed the wounded deserter in the left shoulder at the juncture by the neck. His action dislodged the other’s gladius who had then thrust the blade into the neck of the deserter and then twisted it sideways before he severed the head.

“It’s done.” The deserter lies dead there. The other one was killed by the Decurion and another rider. Hidden by the trees was Lawnslot the Ghost heading towards another cluster of trees in the low valley pursued by the riders.

Lawnslot rode into the valley but the other two riders held back. They were wide not to pursue for there were tales that the trees were alive and will hurt those who are not invited. More so when they are pursuing one who rode in brazenly.

“Was it the Ghost?” The rider on the left asked.

“I don’t know but I think it’s him. We will tell the Decurion we lost him. There are some places we do not enter without invitation.” At a distance away. Lawnslot sat on the mount and looked at the riders. He smiled. It was his sanctuary there on the land. His boundary.

 “Prime, the men are that easily swayed by such tales of the land,” Galahad reported to the Prime. He was however not convinced. “I don’t see why we need to worry about it.”

“None whatsoever.” Prime Artorius replied. “We are the Legionnaires. More to that, I have news of the barbarians are grouping to attack us. That may distract them from deserting.”

The words of the imminent attack have spread to others like wildfire. Another group of mercenary warriors has joined the Romans. They were forty strong warriors and held their campsite far from the Romans. They were busy guarding their camp as per instruction from their leader, Chief Asterix. The Gaul prisoner turned serving mercenary has no real love for the Romans but his servitude was to pick his day when he could overcome them. It was better to get closer to the enemy to know its weakness. He had discovered few but he was indeed short of warriors to handle it. He needed time to stage it.

“Where were you, Chief Asterix?” Optio Lamorak questioned the other. “We did see any of you.”

“We were guarding the wagons there.” It was true that the Auxiliaries held the care of two wagons which housed the idols and prayers materials.

“Forty warriors? I am sure the Gods will be pleased with you.” The Optio remarked back.

“Optio, one cannot taunt the Gods. Their wraths are great and deadlier.” Chief Asterix mocked the other. He knew the Optio was not a believer, unlike the others. The Chief was raised in the forest and his only worship was his grandmother and she was said to be a witch.

“I feared no one but my death which I will then join my ancestors. Then I will come back to hunt the one who killed me.” The Optio replied. “You can be that one but be prepared to die first for I will do you me.”

“I hold no desire to fight you, Optio. I will die for Rome when the time arises.” Chief Asterix smiled. “For Rome.”

It was what was on the Chief’s mind. The tales of the land were unnerving to some. He had seen his share of witchcraft when he was in Gaul. The tribes of Gaul held a man of their own from witches to druids, with their potions and bones. He had not mocked them but his beliefs in them have diminished with the defeats that they incurred by the Legions. It was whispered then the Romans held more powerful Gods which prompted him to join them. He had seen none of them except the decorative idols and paraphilia.  Initially, he was apprehensive to approach it but soon after traveling with it, he felt loathsome for it.

“Have you heard …” The Chief looked at the other mercenary re-telling another version and decided to cut it off there.

“The possible attack by the barbarians?” The Chief looked to the others gathered there at the fireplace. “I feared them more for they come charging and slashed you with the sword. Your innards spilled out like what you saw in the slaughter. You will then kneel and scooped the innards to push them back. Your blood mixed in the innards and there is the pain. You will scream but the sound you made is like your innards; empty and meaningless. For you will be dead soon and no one will care then.”

“Not even the Gods.” The Chief looked at the gathered. “We are doomed.”

Then the Chief laughed.

“Get back to your tasks. We got a war coming……warriors… I hope you are worthy of it.” The Chief motioned to the wagons. “They are not.”