“Now, that I agree with,” Harriet said emphatically. “Arthurian legend-of course it could change if historical events alter. That legend has had great cultural influence over the centuries and must not be allowed to change.”
“I wouldn’t want to lose it, either,” said Steve. “I followed it as a kid-the stories of Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table, and Lancelot and Guinevere.”
“Of course, we will not find them here,” said Hunter. “They are legend, not history.”
“So we agree with you about not letting MC 6 change history after all,” said Harriet. “We will find him.”
“I guess if Ishihara had responded to your call, you’d have told us by now,” said Steve.
“That is correct,” said Hunter. “I have heard nothing.”
6
By the time they reached the main gate at the base of the tor, torches burned in brackets over it. Sentries in leather jerkins and leggings picked up their spears and began to swing the solid wooden doors closed. They waited, however, as Hunter strode up to them.
Steve, remembering that no Britons here had seen anyone of Chinese descent, hung back in the shadows with his head down.
“We seek shelter, friends,” Hunter called out cheerfully in British. “You have lodging in the village, do you not?”
“We have inns here,” said one of the sentries. “What is your business?”
“I breed horses in Gaul,” said Hunter. “I seek new land in which to breed my horses. Even in Gaul, we have heard of the great cavalry leader Artorius. I would speak with him and ask if he will accept some of my finest stock.”
“Yes? Where are your horses? Still in Gaul?” The sentry grinned. Next to him, his companion laughed.
“We took ship from Gaul with five horses, but rough seas cast them overboard.”
“Yes?” The sentry eyed Hunter cautiously.
“Have you crossed the Channel, friend?” Hunter asked. “At this time of year?”
“No,” said the sentry. “Rough, is it?”
“The same rains that fall here in the spring can rage over the seas even harder,” said Hunter.
The sentry nodded, looking over Hunter’s tunic. Then he glanced at Harriet and Steve. “We are far inland here. How did you come?”
“We landed on the southern coast at Devon, then followed the roads here.”
“How did you know which way to come?”
“Every shepherd and villager on the way knows how to find Artorius.”
The sentry nodded again.
“Who are your companions?”
“My wife and our servant, a man from the farthest side of the Roman Empire.”
“Very well. Welcome, friends.” He stood aside for them to enter.
Steve still kept his head down as he followed Harriet through the gate. In the darkness, broken only by flickering torchlight over their heads, he knew the sentries could not see him clearly. In any case, they did not bother to look; they were closing the gates behind him.
Hunter led them up a long, cobbled road to the village at the top of the tor. The sentries at the main gate of the wall also watched them approach by torchlight. When Hunter stopped in front of the gate, Steve lowered his head again and remained back in the shadows.
“We seek lodging,” said Hunter. “The sentries below passed us.”
“I thought as much,” said the man in front of him. “Are you the last in for the night? If so, we’ll close this gate behind you.”
“Yes, we are the last.”
“Come in, then.” He, too, stood aside.
Hunter led Harriet and Steve through the gate into the village.
The streets of the village were lit by torches over a few of the doors. People still walked through the streets, especially outside taverns. The mood seemed peaceful.
“It’s not like the peasant villages in medieval China, is it?” Steve asked. “Those were just homes for farmers. This is more like a small town.”
“I see shops, stables, and taverns,” said Hunter, looking up the length of the streets in each direction. “Only the taverns are still open for business, however. This is a village in a civilized society. It also has nothing in common with the villages we saw in ancient Germany, which belonged to a primarily hunting and gathering society.”
“Roman Britain was something of an outpost in the Roman Empire,” said Harriet. “However, London, York, and Bath were established as Roman bases-modest by the standards of the Mediterranean, but civilized urban areas in comparison to the earlier British Celtic villages. Cadbury Tor has evolved from an older country village to something of a town, obviously because of Artorius bringing power and wealth to the area.”
“Jane could be here,” said Steve. “Wouldn’t Ishihara want to get Wayne and Jane some good shelter like this?”
“Yes,” said Hunter. “For tonight, however, we must do the same. Our search can begin tomorrow.”
“Lead the way,” said Steve.
Hunter approached a quiet tavern. Inside, several men sat at tables drinking. Some wore leather jerkins and leggings similar to those of the sentries. Others wore woolen tunics like Hunter’s and Steve’s. A short, gaunt innkeeper limped forward to look up at Hunter.
“Yes, friend?”
“We seek lodging for the night,” said Hunter. “For my wife and me and our servant.”
“Show me your money.”
“How much do you want for the rooms?”
“That will depend on whose money you carry.”
“Roman coins from Gaul.” Hunter opened the pouch at his belt and spilled some coins into one hand. He held out his palm so the other man could see them. “Mostly copper. Some silver. No gold.”
“No gold, eh?” The innkeeper scowled at the money. “Five silvers.”
“For one room?” Hunter shook his head. “Two coppers, friend.”
“Four silvers, then.”
Hunter closed his fist around the coins. “We have traveled far. Two coppers is a fair price.”
“Find it elsewhere, then, if you can.”
“Very well.” Hunter turned abruptly and strode toward the door.
Steve and Harriet moved outside ahead of him. Just as they got outside, however, the innkeeper hustled after them. At the sound of his footsteps, they turned.
“Four coppers,” called the innkeeper. “For our friends from across the Channel. A special price.”
Steve grinned. “I showed Hunter how to bargain on earlier missions,” he whispered to Harriet.
“Three coppers,” said Hunter.
“For a room with two feather beds,” Harriet whispered. “On the ground floor, with a fireplace.”
“I have no such room with a fireplace of its own,” said the innkeeper, glancing at her.