Invader

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.

“Two coppers, then,” said Hunter.

“Three coppers for a room with two beds and a bar on the door,” said the innkeeper. “On the ground floor near the back door to the latrine.”

“Very well,” said Hunter. He dropped three copper coins into the man’s open palm.

“Welcome, friends. Come inside.” The innkeeper stepped aside and swung his arm toward the door.

Hunter accepted. Harriet and Steve followed him back inside. Some of the men drinking at the tables glanced up again, but without much interest.

The innkeeper picked up a stub of candle on a small dish and led them down a narrow hallway. He opened the door to a small room and swung it back. Then he stepped out again.

Steve glanced around. The two beds nearly filled the room, leaving only a small space between them. A long, narrow shelf ran along the wall from the doorway. This room was intended for sleeping, no more.

“It is acceptable,” said Hunter. “In the morning, I expect bowls of water for washing.”

“As you wish. Sleep well, friends.” The innkeeper handed him the candle dish and left.

Steve drew back the covers to one bed. “Well, it looks clean enough.” He pushed on the pallet. “Straw, not feathers. It’ll be scratchy.”

Harriet laughed lightly. “I trust we’ll survive the night somehow.”

“I will spend the night by the door, on guard,” said Hunter. “Do you need anything outside the room before I bar it for the night?”

“Yeah,” said Steve, with a grin. “A quick trip out to the latrine. And don’t bar it before I get back, either.”

“Of course I will not.” Hunter sounded puzzled.

“That was a joke, Hunter.”

When Steve returned, Hunter barred the door and touched the candlewick lightly with one finger to put it out. As the humans got into bed, he listened for any sounds suggesting danger and heard none. He remained alert throughout the night, motionless to conserve his energy.

Morning arrived without incident. When Hunter heard footsteps elsewhere in the inn, he went out and repeated his request for bowls of water from the innkeeper for Harriet and Steve. By the time the innkeeper fetched water from the cistern and Hunter returned to the room, both Harriet and Steve were up and dressed.

Soon they went to the dining area in the front. Steve brought the team’s bag with him, since they had not paid for a second night in the room. The men from the night before were not there, but two other men in woolen tunics sat hunched over bowls of hot cereal. The fire in the fireplace had gone out.

“Remember to speak British,” Hunter whispered in that language. “We will be overheard and we want to sound as though we belong.”

“As you wish.” Harriet drew in a deep breath. “Ah, feel that brisk spring air again. I love it.”

“I’m hungry,” said Steve, moving to an empty table. “This one okay?”

“Of course,” said Hunter.

The innkeeper hurried out to greet them and offered breakfast. In the daylight, he took a second glance at Steve in surprise, but said nothing. For breakfast, he served wooden bowls of hot oatmeal and herbal tea. He also brought out a small dish of honey for flavoring.

“It’s quite familiar,” said Harriet, inhaling the steam rising from the oatmeal. “I suppose oatmeal and honey haven’t changed a great deal over the years.”

“It’s good,” said Steve. “Not that I like oatmeal much. Good enough, though.”

“I reviewed my conversation with the sentries at the outer gate,” said Hunter. “While my claim to be a horse breeder and trader got us inside the tor, I now believe that Steve is correct that this will not bring us to an audience with Artorius. Without horses to show a prospective buyer, the pose will no longer be useful.”

“At least we’re inside.” Steve shrugged. “Maybe we can just hang around here in the village and ask for people of Jane’s and MC 6’s descriptions.”

“I prefer to act more aggressively,” said Hunter. “Harriet, we discussed some other possible social roles before we left. Would you suggest another?”

“Well, you didn’t want to be soldiers because that might be more dangerous to Steve,” said Harriet. “But without other supplies to bring Artorius-food, armor, or weapons, mainly-that’s the best way to get the attention of a military commander. You could start by joining up and then look for an opportunity to meet him.”

“Hold it.” Steve swallowed and put down his spoon. “I have another problem with this. I learned the hard way in the Caribbean that I’m no fighter.”

“Really?” Harriet turned to him. “What happened, may I ask?”

“I tried fighting a couple of times.” Grinning, Steve shook his head. “One guy almost carved me up with a rapier, but someone interrupted us. Running around on deck during a boarding was even crazier. And what kind of soldier can Hunter be? He’s not allowed to harm humans.”

“Our goal does not require fighting,” said Hunter. “We simply want to be involved in life around Artorius, where MC 6 will probably appear. Harriet, how soon will Artorius go to war again?”

“That’s hard to say,” she said slowly. “In a sense, despite short-term truces and treaties, Britain is more or less in a state of ongoing war between Britons and Saxons.”

“Can you make any sort of calculated estimate about when the next campaign will begin?” Hunter asked.

“Let me think out loud for a moment. The earliest chronicles don’t give the years in which battles took place, let alone months and days. The odds are, however, that none ever took place here at Artorius’s capital, or that fact would have been mentioned.”

“If he has to march somewhere else for battle, we’ll have plenty of warning,” said Steve.

“Most of the battle sites were vague,” said Harriet. “Some are completely unknown, but Artorius will certainly have to go out on campaign to reach them.”

“Hunter.” Steve switched to English and spoke in a whisper. “For this subject, we can’t risk being understood by anyone else. If Artorius goes out on campaign while we’re here, are you going to let us desert from his cavalry to avoid getting into a battle?”

“We must always remember that MC 6 is our first goal, but of course I cannot put either of you into more danger than necessary under the First Law.”

“I think you just dodged my question.” Steve grinned wryly. “Can we desert or not?”

“If necessary, I will certainly take you out of danger,” said Hunter.

“That hasn’t always worked out as we’ve planned,” said Steve. “But I’ll go along with this if you really want to.”

“I suggest we also expand on our personal story.” Harriet whispered in English also.

“What do you have in mind?” Hunter asked.

“We should maintain our claim to have traveled from Gaul recently, or we will be branded liars. But in order to explain your desire to fight for Artorius, we should explain that we are Britons.”

“And we just moved to Gaul for a while to live?” Steve asked skeptically. “That sounds a little thin to me.”

“That’s not all,” said Harriet. “I suggest we come from Linnuis, a British district which the Saxons have taken over. This would explain why we were displaced in years past and fled to Gaul when a ship was available. Now we have managed to come back to Britain.”

“I understand,” said Hunter. “This improves our story. Where is Linnuis?”

“Historians believe Linnuis was modern Lincolnshire. It lies on the coast of the North Sea, northeast of here across the width of Britain.”

“We will use this as our story,” said Hunter, speaking British again. “How should we make our attempt to enlist with Artorius?”

“After breakfast, I suggest you ask the sentries at the main gate to the village.”

“Very well,” said Hunter.

“I can hardly believe this.” Steve laughed lightly, still whispering in English. “We rode dinosaurs, sailed with buccaneers, and ambushed Roman legions. We landed in the middle of World War II, met Marco Polo and Kublai Khan, and now we’re going to join King Arthur. Wow.”