I nodded my head slowly. "If I asked, would you let me read it?"
"Certainly. Of course I would. I would be delighted." He was smiling still.
"Then I would like to read it."
He nodded. "Good, Publius. I am glad. That pleases me. You may have the manuscript whenever you want it."
"Then I'll read it tonight."
This time he laughed and shook his head. "You may start it tonight, Publius, but you won't read it tonight. I have found that I can be quite prolix. I tend to enjoy the sound of my own words, if I may say that of an exercise that involves no sound. I've been writing for almost ten years; there is a lot to read."
"Well, then!" I stood up, filled with resolution and enthusiasm. "I will start it tonight, at least. I'm looking forward to reading it. But in the meantime I had better get down to the forge. I haven't been there in weeks. Equus will have forgotten what I look like with my face smudged. Come on, I'll get your fire lit and see that you've got enough wood and ink."
"You will not." He sounded mildly outraged that I should suggest such a thing. "Gallo looks after all of that — you know he does. Go to your forge, Publius."
I ignored him and did what I wanted to do, and only when I had the fire going did I speak again. "Sometimes Gallo, like the rest of us, forgets. Just like us, he's not getting any younger, you know."
I moved his writing table into the afternoon sunlight and settled him comfortably. The iron statue I had named Coventina, the Lady of the Lake, stood close by, on a table by herself. I caressed her, as I always did, running my hand lovingly over her buxom curves.
Caius was watching me. "She is a patient lady, Publius, watching and waiting for you like a virgin bride, wondering what you mean to do with her."
I rested my hand on her head, feeling the bumps of her metal skull against my palm. "I know, Caius," I answered him, my voice almost a whisper. "And she is not alone in that. I'm wondering, too."
I left him to write and walked down to the forge, the sound of ringing hammers in my ears as I approached. I stopped inside the doors to let my eyes adjust to the gloom, and filled my chest with the smoky, iron smells, enjoying the slightly sexual stir I always felt on returning after an absence from this place. Equus was working at the central forge and I joined him, slipping my leather apron over my head.
"What are you working on?" "
He gave an exaggerated leap, as though shying away from something that had startled him. "Boudicca's buttocks! Am I seeing ghosts? What are you doing here in a dirty smithy? They told me you were dead, killed copulating with a mare, trying to improve her bloodlines!"
I grinned at him. "No, that was Victorex. I prefer sheep."
"Ah!" He nodded wisely. "Sheep. Well, ram this into the coals, there." He passed me a slender length of iron that looked like a sword blade but was twice the length and more than half again the width.
"What's this?"
"It's what I'm working on."
I hefted it at arm's length, feeling the slight bounce of it against the tongs I held it clasped in. "Looks like a sword blade, but it's much too long and too heavy."
"That's what it is, a too-long and too-heavy sword blade."
I shook my head in mock dismay and thrust the metal into the coals, the feel of the iron tongs welcome and right in my hand.
"I'm serious, Publius," he said, looking straight at me, his eyes crinkling against the smoke from the fire. "That's what it is. I had an idea and I wanted to test it."
I pushed the metal, burying it deeper in the coals. "Well? Tell me about it. Where did it come from?"
"What, the idea? From my head, of course. Where else would it come from?"
"No, Equus, I meant... oh, never mind. What is this idea of yours?"
"Just come over here and look. I made some drawings."
"Drawings?" I laughed. "You've been spending too much time with Andros, Equus. One of these days, I'm going to come in here and find you praying on your knees!"
"Hah!" He let out a scornful, roaring guffaw. "Don't you believe it, Publius Varrus! Not unless there's a woman spread on the floor in front of me. Look at this."
Moving to a broad-topped workbench, he seized a large pile of parchments, all of varying sizes, and spread them out in front of him. When he found the one he was looking for, he tapped it with his knuckles and I stepped forward to look. It was a large piece of parchment with drawings of spearheads, javelins, axes and swords. I examined all of them, wondering what was expected of me. I saw nothing that struck me as strange or new.
"Well?" I said, "I'm looking. What do you want me to see?"
"Nothing, yet. There's nothing there to see. But let me talk." He paused for a few seconds. "You wanted a weapon that a man could use from horseback. Well, I've been working on it, but I swear by the balls of Bacchus that I'm starting to doubt if it can be done." I waited, saying nothing, and he continued, nodding towards the drawings. "Every weapon there is for men on foot. Of them all, the sword's the best. Good for both attack and defence. You can stop another man's swing with it and still kill him easily." Another pause, then, "A spear's limited. Lunge with it, or throw it, and it's used up. You'd better have a sword for back-up. An axe is even worse. Swing one of those properly and you leave yourself wide open to a sword or a spear. And once you swing, you'd better hit the man you're aiming at, because if he's worth his salt, one swing is all you'll get."
It occurred to me as he was talking that I had never heard Equus say so much at one time on any subject, and he was far from finished. Now, as he talked, his eyes became even more animated than before and his hands moved continuously from one drawing to another, emphasizing his words and directing my thoughts. I listened, fascinated, as he went on.
"Now, when we put our man up on a horse and pack the horses close together the way you want to, we're really mired in shit. An axe is as useless as tits on a boar in a situation like that, because all you're going to do with it if you swing it is hit the man beside you or kill your own horse. A sword's useless, too — it's too damn short. Even if you've got room to swing it, you still couldn't reach a man on the ground if he was kneeling or lying down. So that leaves us with a spear. But spears are only pointed. They're for stabbing. They can't cut. And the pilum is made so that the shaft will bend. It's great for throwing into an enemy's shield, to hamper him, but it's useless to us.
"So." He slapped his hand down onto the drawings, covering them with his great paw. "I've been thinking of a new kind of spear. A short, heavy shaft, about three feet long, for weight, and a long, flat blade like a sword, but twice as long — double-edged and sharper than a whore's tongue." He drew it swiftly with a few strokes as he spoke, and I watched it take shape under his charcoal. "A weapon like that might give a mounted man an advantage," he continued. "It could reach down between the horses, with the shaft gripped under the armpit, and it would be manoeuvrable enough to allow some cutting, as well as thrust."
I was impressed. "Hmmm!" I said, as I thought it through. "Equus, you could be right. But it would be usable on the one side only."
"What do you mean?" He was frowning now, not understanding me, but then he caught my meaning and his next words made me realize it was I who had misunderstood. "No, no! Not at all, Publius. Damnation, it's made to use on both sides! The short shaft would let a man swing it over his horse's head and stab with it either way."
"I think you may be on to something. It's certainly worth a try. Make me one and we'll test it."
"Make me one and we'll test it! Christ's Cross, man! Isn't that what I'm doing?"
I looked at the long iron shaft sticking out from the coals. "When will it be ready?"
"If you'll stop interfering and distracting me from my work, I'll have it ready for you in the morning."