“That’s not all,” said Harriet. “I suggest we come from Linnuis, a British district which the Saxons have taken over. This would explain why we were displaced in years past and fled to Gaul when a ship was available. Now we have managed to come back to Britain.”
“I understand,” said Hunter. “This improves our story. Where is Linnuis?”
“Historians believe Linnuis was modern Lincolnshire. It lies on the coast of the North Sea, northeast of here across the width of Britain.”
“We will use this as our story,” said Hunter, speaking British again. “How should we make our attempt to enlist with Artorius?”
“After breakfast, I suggest you ask the sentries at the main gate to the village.”
“Very well,” said Hunter.
“I can hardly believe this.” Steve laughed lightly, still whispering in English. “We rode dinosaurs, sailed with buccaneers, and ambushed Roman legions. We landed in the middle of World War II, met Marco Polo and Kublai Khan, and now we’re going to join King Arthur. Wow.”
7
After breakfast, Steve followed Hunter and Harriet out of the inn to the street. Merchants had already opened their shops and stalls by now. The village gate stood open and people walked up and down the streets.
Steve liked the idea of accompanying Artorius and his men for a while, as long as no battles with Saxons were involved. He wished Jane could see him join up; she would probably find it funny and she might even be impressed by it. Then his mood dampened as he wondered where she was.
“Hunter,” Steve said, falling into step with him just before they reached the village gate. “How about spreading the word around the village that we’re looking for Jane before we sign up?”
“I can do that,” said Harriet. “While you two enlist, I will spend the day asking about Jane around the village. And I will ask about our missing friend.”
“Will you be safe here?” Hunter asked.
“Yes, I think so.”
“The village is peaceful,” the sentry said. “She will be safe.”
“All right,” said Hunter.
“Here. I’ll carry the bag today. You’ll need your hands free.”
“Thanks.” Steve handed it to her.
“Of course.” Harriet turned and strolled up the street.
Steve shrugged, disappointed.
Different sentries stood by the gate. As Hunter approached, one turned toward him, leaning on his spear.
“Good morning, friend,” said Hunter.
“Fair,” said the sentry.
“My friend and I had to flee our home in Linnuis to escape the Saxons. We would like to fight with Artorius. How do we volunteer?”
“You want to volunteer?” The sentry eyed Steve with curiosity for a moment, saying nothing. Then he turned back to Hunter. “All right, then. Step over here.”
The sentry moved to the middle of the open gateway and pointed. On the steep slope of the tor below, Steve could see forty or fifty armed men milling around. Some were mounted; others walked horses by their reins. From this vantage point, he could also see a pen holding a few other horses on the far side of a storage building.
“Lucius takes the new recruits out every morning,” said the sentry. “They just finished breakfast a short time ago. Go down and ask for Lucius.”
“Thank you,” said Hunter. “If those are the new recruits, where are the others?”
“Most of the veterans have not arrived from their winter homes. Artorius’s personal troop is at leisure today, except for those on patrol.”
“I see.”
Steve and Hunter walked out of the gate and down the cobbled road. The new recruits were slowly mounting and lining up, with several burly men in leather jerkins shouting orders. One man on a large bay waited silently, watching them all. Hunter walked up to him.
“Are you Lucius? We are Hunter and Steve.”
“Yes. What do you want?” Lucius studied Hunter with interest.
“We wish to volunteer and ride with Artorius against the Saxons.”
“Hmm. We can always use a man of your stature, if we have a horse to carry your weight.” Lucius glanced at Steve. “Do you speak our language?”
“Yes, I speak British.”
“From where do you come?”
“From the eastern side of the Roman Empire. We have been in Gaul until recently.”
“Gaul?”
“My wife and I fled Linnuis ahead of the Saxons,” said Hunter. “The three of us arrived here last night.”
“Well, you are no Saxons. Do you ride? Have you fought before?”
“We both can ride,” said Hunter. “However, we have not fought much.”
“Do you have horses?”
“No.”
Lucius frowned. “I feared so. We are always short of good horses.”
“You are taking new recruits,” said Hunter. “Will you take us or not?”
“The personal troop of Artorius has its full complement of three hundred,” Lucius said sternly. “But word has gone out for last year’s veterans to come from their farms and villages. Most of them will have their own mounts and a few may bring new ones, too.” He pointed to the wooden building on the slope behind the new recruits. “I will see if you can ride or not. Go to the tack building and tell the groom to mount you.”
“We have no weapons,” said Hunter.
“The armorer’s store stands on the near side of the building,” said Lucius. “Stop there first and tell him to outfit you. And hurry; we will ride out soon.”
Steve followed Hunter through the crowd of men and horses. Ahead, Steve saw the armorer standing outside a wooden building watching them come. He was a short man with long, gray hair and beard. When he turned and moved inside the building, he walked with a pronounced limp.
By the time Steve and Hunter reached the building, the armorer had come outside again. He tossed two round wooden shields on the ground in front of them and then dropped two short swords on the shields. Without a word, he limped back into the building.
“I guess he knew what we wanted when he saw us coming,” said Steve, picking up a sword and shield. “No swordbelts or scabbards, though.”
“Roman short swords,” said Hunter. “British shields. I suppose the armor will be made of leather.”
“So it is,” said the armorer gruffly as he came out again. He leaned two spears against the wall of the building. “But not for you, friend. You’re too big. I’ll have to boil a new hide and slap it on you when you ride back this afternoon.”
“Boil it?” Steve asked.
The armorer snickered, revealing broken teeth. “A first-timer, eh? Well, you’ll learn.” He reached inside the door and pulled out a large, rigid piece of leather, about the size and shape of Steve’s torso. It bent at the shoulders, with a hole for his head; the bottom was cut short at the waist. Thongs dangled from holes along each side. “Lace those on.”
Steve slipped it over his head and onto his chest and abdomen. “It’s hard.”
“Boiled leather will turn a blade almost as well as steel,” said the armorer. “It just wears out faster, over time. But if you had the money to buy steel, you’d be wearing it.”
Hunter moved to Steve’s side and began lacing the leather armor on him.
“How do you get the shape?” Steve asked.
“I boil it in a vat of water till it’s nice and soft. Then I slap on your body steaming hot, and you’d better be wearing a tunic when I do.” The armorer grinned. “It takes the shape of your body and cools that way.”
“I see. Uh, what happened to the guy this belonged to before?”
“He died of a fever.” The armorer stepped back inside again and came out with two conical caps. “Here.” He tossed a cap to each of them.
Steve put on the cap. A leather band inside the rim padded it somewhat. It fit him well enough.
A boy of about ten led two horses up to them, already saddled and bridled.
“The groom saw you coming,” he said shyly to Hunter. “We got you the biggest horse we have.”
“Thank you.” Hunter took the reins and mounted. “He will be fine.”
Steve slipped his shield on his’ left arm and carefully stuck a sword through the belt of his tunic. Then he mounted the second horse, which pranced and shook. He kept control of his mount, however. The armorer handed him his spear.