“How about those riders?” Wayne asked. “The guys with the spears? They were too far for me to see clearly.”
“None of them is small enough to be MC 6,” said Ishihara. “One of them is large enough to be Hunter. With the movements of the riders, I was not able to ascertain this for certain, even at the maximum magnification of my vision. A man the size and build of Steve rode very close to him.”
Jane said nothing. She had recognized Hunter. At least she now knew what Ishihara had seen. The reason he had not mentioned it in her hearing before was that Wayne had instructed him not to do so.
“You’re sure that MC 6 is not riding with that outfit?” Wayne asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. For now, we’ll let Hunter waste his time with them. We’ll focus on finding MC 6 first.”
Jane said nothing more.
Steve and Hunter found the camp on the far slope. A single large command tent stood at the top. Two unhitched wagons stood next to it, full of closed wooden crates. Small campfire sites, cold at the moment, dotted the area, surrounded by small bundles of furs and cloth bags.
Cynric met them there and showed them which campfire belonged to their squad. He also pulled some old blankets out of a crate in one wagon and gave them to Steve and Hunter. The other squad members had not come back yet.
AfterCynric walked away, Steve sighed and looked up at Hunter.
“What is wrong?” Hunter asked. He set his blanket down on the ground…
“We’ll be sleeping out under the stars. It was cold last night. Even next to the fire, we’ll be cold.”
“I noted the temperature last night. It should not be harmful to you.”
“No…but it’ll be uncomfortable.” Steve grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I just hope it doesn’t rain.”
“I suggest we walk up to the village. The sun will not go down right away. Maybe we can buy some additional bedclothes for you.”
“Okay.” Steve glanced up. The sky had more clouds than before, but he did not smell rain.
They walked back up to the village and strolled through the streets. Hunter found a stall selling furs and bargained down the price on a coverlet of rabbit pelts stitched together. Steve slung it over his shoulder gratefully.
Hunter noted when the other green recruits in the village left again. He and Steve followed them back to the camp, where the campfires now burned. Some men passed bread to each squad; pots of mut ton already boiled over the fires. A brisk breeze blew across the twilit countryside.
9
As Steve and Hunter sat down around their campfire, Cynric finally introduced each squad member by name. Inthe gathering darkness, he directed one of the men to ladle mutton out of the pot into wooden bowls already filled with chunks of bread.
“Cynric,” said a young man named Cai. “What will we do tomorrow? More of the same?”
“More of the same.” Cynric looked around the group sternly. “You have much to learn before you can keep an angry Saxon from killing you.”
“Will it be different when the veterans arrive?” Cai asked. “Will we ride with them?”
“Our troop will remain together,” said Cynric. “Lucius will lead us. When the veterans first begin to gather, they will not bother to ride, except on their own. Once the bulk of them have arrived, we will practice maneuvers with them.”
“When will we go out on campaign?” A taller young man named Cadoc looked up from his bowl.
“No one can be sure,” said Cynric. “It depends on what word Artorius hears from scouts and returning veterans. He won’t plan a campaign until he knows something about the enemy.”
None of them spoke.
“You can be sure we’re going somewhere,” Cynric added. “Spring always brings a new campaign for Artorius. You need not doubt that.”
The other men nodded.
Cai chewed on a piece of bread for a moment and glanced at Steve. “I’ve never seen a man of your appearance before, yet you speak our language well. How did you two come to join us here today?”
“It’s a long story,” Steve said cautiously. He was not sure how much detail Cai wanted.
“We met in Gaul,” said Hunter casually. “My wife and I hail from Linnuis, but we fled the Saxons on board ship across the Channel.”
“I have known men from Gaul,” said Cadoc. “None looked liked you, Steve.”
“I come from the eastern end of the Roman Empire,” said Steve. He glanced at Hunter, who watched him silently. Steve decided he was free to improvise. “I traveled to Gaul as a servant to another horse breeder. We met Hunter and I began working for him, instead.”
“But where is this land you come from?” Cai asked. “My grandfather served allover the empire and told me stories about his travels. Do you come from Egypt? Judea? The Parthian border?”
Steve looked at Hunter again.
“His family comes from farther east than that,” said Hunter. “From Sina, the land of silk.”
“Never heard of it,” said Cynric. “Not that I care.” He looked into the distance, where the sun had gone down. A faint glow over the horizon still lit the sky. “Well, men, shall we take our nightly stroll through the village?”
“You walk through the village every night?” Hunter asked. “Why?”
Cynric grinned. “For a goblet of mead, maybe. Or to meet a woman in a tavern. Maybe just for a walk. It keeps these young farmers and shepherds in the saddle during the day, when they know they have a visit in the village at night.”
Steve caught Hunter’s eye. “We’ll join you.”
“Hunter, you can see your wife.”
“Perhaps,” said Hunter. “First, we have business in the village. A certain friend of ours may live in the village now. We will look for him.”
“As you wish.” Cynric shrugged.
As the squad walked back up to the village, Steve noticed that the other squads were doing the same. Not everyone went, however; a few others stayed around their fires. Some of the men had already stretched out in their bedrolls.
The streets of the village had only a few people, just as the night before. Cynric sought out the most crowded tavern, though, calling out to friends he found there.
Hunter and Steve bought mead in dented metal goblets and stood among talkative, laughing men in the middle of the crowd. Steve saw that Hunter was looking around, so he did not bother; Hunter’s height advantage and better vision meant that he could do the job better and faster, anyway.
Steve found the mead interesting at first, but not really to his liking. He held the goblet and glanced back out the open doorway. A small group of other men sauntered past.
Hunter continued looking around the crowd. Steve slipped away from him through the crowd, moving toward the door. The noise in the tavern covered his footsteps. With a glance over his shoulder at Hunter’s back, he set his goblet down on a small table and stepped back outside. He hurried down the street.