Below the rowing deck was a deck for cargo storage, while another above provided accommodation for the ship's warriors. The original biremes of Rome had been no more than floating platforms from which land trained troops fought land based wars, and that priority had altered little over the centuries. Front and rear, great towers soared above the main deck, giving the vessel an ungainly appearance when seen from either side; these provided viciously effective advantages as platforms for the ship's catapults and other artillery, and also housed the ship's officers and troop commanders. At either end of the deck drawbridges reared high. Lowered by pulleys, they were used to attach the ship to land when the vessel was in port, but they were equally capable of locking it similarly to another ship's side in battle, allowing soldiers to pour across on to the enemy's decks.
Connor, I knew, had good reason to be proud of owning this floating fortification, but his greatest source of pride was the enormous, copper clad battering ram of solid wood, wider than my outspread arms where it formed the prow of the ship. This stretched out a full six long legged strides from the bireme's bows and tapered to a wicked point below the waterline. Heaven help any other vessel that found itself facing this, I thought when he pointed it out to us.
Connor shipped us ashore again, promising to return by the shortest route to visit us after he had sacked Ironhair's harbour in Cornwall. He estimated that it would take him less than a week to go there, do what he must do, and return. I promised him we would still be there when he did return, providing his estimate was accurate, since I was committed to await Huw Strongarm's return, and that would take no less than a week. After that, though, I would be leaving as soon as I had to, in order to meet with Uderic Pendragon.
He walked with Donuil and me to the side of his ship and then braced himself with his wooden leg against the rail before leaning outward, clinging to a rope, to watch with a wide grin of delight as we made our way nervously down a narrow wooden ladder lashed to the side of the great ship. We were suddenly terrifyingly aware of how simple it had been to board this monster from the tiny boat that now bobbed sickeningly on the leaping waves, slightly beyond our reach.
Clinging there above the lurch of the slapping waves, we gauged our time and distance and leaped to where willing hands waited to grasp us and save us from overturning the boat. We both made the transit safely, albeit with a decided lack of dignity. My stomach was still swooping distressingly when the hull of the boat grated on the sand and I leaped out, wading through ankle deep water to the satisfying solidness of the dry beach, carefully avoiding the eyes of any of the watchers who stood there.
For the remainder of that day I had but one pressing priority. I reconvened the officers and apologized for the interruption of our session, after which I set them to drawing up rosters of activities that would keep our troops occupied and usefully employed during the time we must wait for Huw's return. That done, I handed command over to Donuil, as adjutant, and withdrew to my own tent to bring my diurnal log up to date.
The wording of the first two sentences I wrote that day has remained bright in my memory, because they fell so far short of the truth that, when I read them again later, I laughed aloud at the power we have to surprise ourselves with our own ineptitude. "Connor has returned unexpectedly, " I wrote, "in possession of one of Ironhair's biremes. Now, after months of inaction, it appears that things might start to change. " Well, change they did.
It began the following day, just before noon, when a squadron of cavalry arrived from Camulod. I had been expecting no word from home and I strode out to meet them, my insides knotted with apprehension, since here, I suspected, could be no good tidings. My apprehension flared into fear when I recognized the officer in charge as one of the junior tribunes I had last seen leaving Camulod with Ambrose, headed north.
"You should be with my brother, " I snapped at the man, as he stood rigidly to attention in front of me. "Why are you here, and where is he?"
"The Legate Commander Ambrose is safe and well in Northumbria with King Vortigern, Commander Merlyn. He dispatched me immediately upon our arrival there to put your mind at rest as to his welfare, since he now believes he might be detained in Northumbria for slightly longer than he originally thought. I came with all speed, stopping but briefly in Camulod to gain fresh horses. I bear dispatches, sir, for your attention. This from the Legate Commander, and the smaller is from the Legate Dedalus, in Camulod. "
I took the two carrying cases young Sulla held Out to me and thanked him kindly for his trouble, feeling somewhat guilty now for the coldness of my initial greeting. I sent him off with Donuil, accompanied by his men, then dismissed everyone else and withdrew to my tent.
Once confident that I would remain undisturbed, I found myself postponing the moment when I would open up the thick leather wallet that contained Ambrose's dispatches. I poured myself a cup of ale and made myself comfortable in my folding chair, tilting it back onto its hind legs as I sat with my feet up on the old, scarred campaign desk that had been my father's and his father's before that, rubbing the thick leather of the wallet with my thumb. At length, however, I had to admit to myself that I was merely putting off the inevitable, and I untied the thongs that bound the wallet tight There were two scrolls in the receptacle, one of them much heavier than the other, and I saw at first glance that they were not both from Ambrose. His letter bore his seal, a floral emblem petalled like a daisy, with his personal crest of an eagle's head embossed in the centre. The other bore a common seal of wax, pressed flat with the point of a knife. I smiled as I broke it and unrolled the single sheet of papyrus covered with small, tightly compressed letters. It was from Arthur, the first letter I had ever received from him, and it showed evidence of torturous effort in its composition, with many words written and then struck out afterwards.
The Legate Commander Caius Merlyn Britannicus
Greetings, Cousin:
I write this on the instructions of the Legate Commander Ambrose, who has decided that I must learn the power of words on papyrus. As part of my assigned duties each day, I now must keep a daily log, presenting it to him for his inspection and approval each morning.
n
The writing of the log is not, in itself, difficult, but the selection of the proper words, to describe events
precisely, without wasting time or space, consumes much time.
We have come safely to Lindum, where Vortigern the King now keeps his strength, after moving south from his former stronghold in Eboracum three years ago. We are quartered in the ancient Roman fort of Lindum itself, which is being fortified anew, with stone walls being erected atop the old, earthen walls. We had no trouble on the wad, except for one incident which I unfortunately missed, when a small party of our advance scouts was waylaid by a band of wandering brigands who outnumbered them by five to one. The brigands had never fought armed horsemen before, and they fared ill. I wish I had been there.
Our troopers have struck wonder into all the people here in Lindum. Nothing like them has ever been seen in these lands. King Vortigern would be well pleased were we to stay here, but Ambrose has told him that we must return. Ambrose, I felt, was as unhappy to say so as the King was to hear it. He has much loyalty to Vortigern, from former times, I think. We are to make one great, rapid sweep around the King's main holdings here, in company with Vortigern, before we leave. Ambrose plans to penetrate the great forests to the south and east, to show our strength to the Danes and Saxons living there.