My immediate reaction was one of concern, occasioned more than anything else by simple fear for two women riding alone. These were not two mere women, however; Shelagh was a warrior, and her word regarding Tressa's own prowess was sufficient warranty for me that Tress could look after herself should the need arise. Nevertheless, I wanted to tell them to be careful, but I mentally bit my tongue rather than offer what might be construed as a patronizing comment.
"You always ride armoured?" I asked, instead.
"Of course," Shelagh said, somewhat scornfully. "What else would you expect? It's the law. And we have helmets on our saddles. To unknown eyes out there we appear as men. I'm sure you would not tolerate our riding out otherwise."
I had to meet with Ambrose, I told them, but afterwards , were Ambrose so inclined, he and Donuil and I might ride after them, purely for pleasure, mine being the pleasure of acquainting myself with my new mount. They agreed, and left me standing there with my new horse, fighting the temptation to saddle him immediately and follow them and leave Ambrose to wonder what had befallen me. But good sense won out over wishfulness, and I led him back into his stall before unsaddling the horse that had brought me up here to find him.
That one unexpected encounter marked the beginning of a brief and idyllic period of months during which I came to see Tressa through new eyes, and the love we shared grew stronger and deeper in the warmth of the true friendship we discovered as we rode together every day. I marvelled daily, too, at the unexpected skills she possessed. She rode like a centaur, fully as well as Shelagh, whose riding skills were legendary among our troopers, and she handled the long, light spear of our Camulodian troopers as though it were an extension of her own arm, effortlessly picking up targets from the ground with her spear point at full gallop, to the mock despair of our own troopers, few of whom could match her skill. She was even more impressive with her light bow, seldom failing to place five out of six arrows in the central target ring from fifty and eighty paces. Only beyond a hundred paces did her accuracy falter, and that was due more to the fault of her light weapon than to any lack of skill in her marksmanship. Even from horseback, sitting m the saddle and turned sideways, Tress could hit the mark four times in six. I was more than impressed.
It was only with the shortsword that she showed womanly weakness. Her arm muscles lacked the hewing strength required for real sword work. I told myself that she would never need to use a sword, but nonetheless I replaced her old gladium with a shorter, double-edged dagger that would be easier to handle, and even more effective than her clumsy sword should she ever need to perform such deadly, close work.
Arthur left for Cambria with Llewellyn within the first week following our arrival, but before he did, he stood as witness, with Ambrose, to our marriage, presided over and sanctified by Bishop Enos before his own departure. It was a very quiet ceremony, private and dignified but filled, nonetheless, with delight and the love and admiration of our friends. Our nuptial celebrations lasted but one day, and then our guests departed and our life as man and wife began, stretching out ahead of us as life had never done before. We settled into a new dimension of happiness, aided by the fact that everything was progressing smoothly in our holdings, without grief or trauma.
With no urgent concerns pressing us into action, we fell into a habit that was pleasant and beneficial for us and for all our associates. A party of us, consisting usually of myself and Tress and Donuil and Shelagh, with various others providing the pleasure of their company from time to time, took to riding out on patrols to visit each of the ancillary garrison communities that were springing up like mushrooms outside the formal boundaries of Camulod and lining the roads to the north, south and east. The idea of this resurrection had spread like spring fires in dead grass, and each of the communities we visited was caught in the grip of an ever widening excitement. Their people laboured daily to construct enough new holdings to meet the demands of the newcomers who were now flocking towards them from all around the countryside. Organized bands of brigands and would be looters who descended on several of the new communities found themselves repulsed, savagely and with implacably ruthless determination, by a new phenomenon: a populace that had suddenly found itself blessed with the power of self defence, the confidence of righteousness and the certain knowledge of support from outside forces. No lawless rabble could survive in the face of such determined unity; those who attempted to invade the new communities were killed in the attempt, or hanged after its failure, their bodies left to swing in the wind outside the towns and camps.
Long disused fields were being rebroken to the plough everywhere we looked, and new land was being cleared, the trees cut down and sawn into logs to be used as building materials and the stumps uprooted to provide new crop land. Houses, most of them of raw logs, were springing up, too, and we saw potters, weavers, tanners, cobblers, smiths and coopers establishing new enterprises far and wide, their equipment temporarily housed beneath hastily raised roofs, frequently left open to the weather because there was no time to waste on building walls. No matter where we went, during those months, the smell of new cut wood and sawdust hung in the air, like the tang of distant smoke. And in every community, there was military activity all day long, as new arrivals of lighting age trained eagerly beneath the stern gaze of veteran troopers from Camulod, temporarily residing there for that purpose.
After long decades of anarchy and fear, the people everywhere around us were coming together again, determined to protect themselves for ever more against the ravages they had experienced since the departure of the legions. There was a new and vibrant spirit of hope and resurgence everywhere. It was impossible not to be aware of it as the warm autumn days turned the entire countryside into a tapestry of reds and golds, ripening the crops to perfection and permitting a bountiful harvest even from fields that had been but recently planted. For the first time in longer than I could remember, musicians, mummers and tumblers emerged among the populace and long, golden afternoons were frequently, and always surprisingly, enlivened by the sounds of music carrying from long distances through the calm, clear air. When the word went out that there would be an entertainment, the gathering was always attended by more people than anyone could have imagined, the women and children in their brightest, most festive clothes and the men laughing boisterously as they clustered around the drinking booths, exchanging small talk and growing ever more expansive as they enjoyed the almost forgotten sensations of ease and safety.
It was true, as Ambrose once remarked to me, that there seemed to be soldiers everywhere, but we rejoiced in the knowledge that these were of the finest kind: local men, family men whose soldierly demeanour was born of determination and resolve to see their families flourish and grow in peace and prosperity. Such men were seldom, if ever, undisciplined or unruly. They were prepared to fight for what they cherished, but they were equally prepared to enjoy the benefits of their regimented presence and their vigilance.