Warrior

4

As the team followed Vicinius and his warriors up the forested slope, Steve and Gene fell into step behind Hunter and Jane. They took turns holding branches back for each other and pointing out the best way to climb over fallen logs or large, exposed tree roots. Their cloaks repeatedly snagged on twigs and had to be freed.

On the team’s first mission, their paleontologist had taken a haughty, condescending attitude toward Steve. During the second mission, their historian had run off with a local pirate. Steve knew that it was unfair to blame Gene for what the others had done, but he could not help being circumspect toward him.

Soon Vicinius had led everyone to a narrow trail, where the walking was much easier. Nearly an hour passed on the trail before Steve heard small children shouting and dogs barking. By then, he could also smell smoke from the village fires. The sun was low, behind the trees to the west.

“Vicinius,” said Hunter, as the village came into view ahead. “Is this the village of your Prince Arminius?”

“No, Hunter.” Vicinius shook his head. “Arminius lives in another village not far from here.”

The village was nestled into a small clearing. From the tree stumps, Steve could tell that the tribe had used the trees they had cut down to build rough huts, which were jammed together in a crude circle. Children came running to welcome home the warriors, and in the center of the village circle, women tended cookfires. He was surprised to see that there were only a few horses, hobbled just outside the village.

“First we shall eat,” said Vicinius. “You will be guests at my mother’s fire.”

“We thank you,” said Hunter.

Around them, everyone was turning to look at the strangers. The children came running up to them, while the village elders walked forward slowly, studying them. Vicinius waited for only one older man to come forward. He was a stocky man, slightly short er than Vicinius, but white-haired and bent forward with age.

“Father, these are traders in silver from Gaul,” said Vicinius. “This one is called Hunter.”

“Welcome,” said the old man. “I am Odover, the village chief.”

“We are pleased to meet you,” said Hunter.

Steve suddenly realized that the children, all of them either blond or red-haired, were staring at him. Some were making jokes to each other and laughing; others were just watching him. Odover, too, had just noticed him.

“Who is your companion?” Odover asked Hunter. “His name is Steve,” said Hunter. “He comes from a far land beyond the Parthian Empire to the east.”

“You are welcome,” Odover said to Steve. Then he turned and waved for the other villagers to make way for them. They backed away at his bidding.

Steve felt a little self-conscious under the stares of the villagers, but none of them actually approached him. Odover and Vicinius took their guests to the cookfire in front of one specific hut and gestured for them to sit down around it. They did not introduce the elderly woman tending the fire or the two younger women stirring an iron pot of stew that was boiling over it. The women looked up at the strangers curiously but did not speak.

Looking around, he counted twelve huts. They were made of narrow, vertical logs lashed together. Cracks between them had been filled with mud and straw. Around the huts, a narrow perimeter of land had been cleared of trees. In parts of the perimeter, green crops that he could not identify grew in rows.

The stew smelled good to Steve. It obviously had meat and vegetables in it, but he had no idea what kind. He waited to see what would happen next.

“First we shall eat,” said Odover. “Then we shall talk.” He waved to a young boy, who ducked into the hut. A moment later, the boy came out with a large, earthenware jug cradled in both arms. He gave it to Odover, who passed it to Vicinius.

Vicinius pulled a wooden plug from the jug with his teeth and drank from it first.

Steve was surprised. He was accustomed to guests receiving the first offer of food and drink. Next to him, Jane glanced at Gene in puzzlement.

“To prove it’s safe,” Gene whispered in English. “When strangers meet in this time, it’s a courtesy to share the same container and for the host to eat or drink first to show that nothing has been poisoned.”

“Our mead is a humble drink,” said Vicinius, giving the jug to Hunter. “Arminius has some good Roman wine from Gaul, but this is all we have in this village.”

Hunter accepted the jug and drank from it. “Thank you. It is quite good.” He passed it to Steve.

Steve took a slight drink. He found the mead had a heavy flavor and was stronger than he had expected. Swallowing hard, he gave it in turn to Jane.

Steve suddenly realized that as Jane took a drink from the jug, both Vicinius and Odover were blinking at her in surprise. The women at the fire also turned to look. None of them spoke, however, and she merely passed the jug to Gene.

“They’re surprised because they consider this to be a ceremonial drink,” Gene said quietly in English. “Their women will eat dinner separately, but they will allow us our little quirks, apparently.”

“Good,” said Jane.

Soon the women at the fire were ladling stew into earthenware bowls and handing them out. Odover poured more mead into individual cups and shared them. Then the German women took their own stew elsewhere.

Steve tasted his steaming stew. The meat, which was stringy beef, had been boiled tender. The lightly salted stew was not bad.

“They have salt beds near here,” said Gene quietly. “Of course, they won’t get pepper here for many centuries.”

“It is good,” said Hunter, to their hosts.

Vicinius nodded his acceptance of the compliment. “You traveled far today?”

“Yes,” said Hunter. “It was not difficult, but it was quite a long way.”

“How did you cross the river from Gaul?”

“Fishing boats,” Gene said quickly. “A couple of fishermen carried us across.”

“From the other side? A fishing village of Gauls is upstream some distance, but it is quite far.”

“Vicinius, perhaps you can help us with a problem,” said Hunter, changing the subject.

“How can I help?”

“We are searching for an acquaintance who is lost in the forest somewhere.”

“Really?” Vicinius was startled. “If he is lost, he may be in danger. The forest is cold at night.”

“We have completely lost him,” said Hunter. “We do not even know where to look.”

“You should have told me sooner,” said Vicinius, with concern. “We could have searched for signs of him on our way back to the village.”

“He is a small man, rather slender. Perhaps we can look for him tomorrow.”

Vicinius nodded, still looking at Hunter with a puzzled expression. “You seem very calm for a man who is searching for someone. I don’t understand.”

“He’s a little weird,” said Steve quickly. He felt that Hunter needed some help in his charade about what MC 3 was really like. “We want to find him, but we don’t know where he’ll go or what he’ll do. He’s unpredictable and may not even have any clothes to wear. His name is MC 3.”

“An odd name,” Vicinius agreed.

“Yes.” Gene leaned forward. “He may be, shall we say, touched by the gods.”

“Ah!” Vicinius nodded his understanding. “Yes, I see. Touched by the gods.”

“A little crazy,” Gene muttered in English. “Or mildly retarded. But harmless.”

“I understand,” said Hunter quietly. “This is related to their beliefs in some way?”

“Yes. Many preindustrial cultures view mildly retarded or crazy people as having the special protection of the gods,” said Gene.

“I shall spread the word through the village tonight, after we have finished dinner,” said Vicinius. “No one will harm a man who has been touched by the gods. Sooner or later, someone will find some sign of him.”

“Thank you,” said Hunter.

By the time they had finished dinner, night had fallen. Most of the light now came from the waning cookfires, though some families had raised flaming torches near the fronts of their huts. Steve waited patiently as more mead was poured, wondering when he should open the leather bag.

“We must give our new friends our gifts,” said Hunter finally. “You have been very hospitable.”

Taking that as a cue, Steve pulled up the leather bag and opened it.

“One at a time,” Gene said quietly. “Hand them to Hunter, as our representative. Hunter, first give the largest item to Odover, the village chief. Give him the second largest, too, and then we’ll see how they respond.”

Steve felt around inside the bag for the largest object. When he pulled it out, he discovered that it was a serving bowl with handles and feet in the shape of flowers and leaves. He gave it to Hunter.

Hunter took the bowl in both hands and stood up to present it to Odover. The village chief received it while still sitting. He looked it over carefully, nodding as he turned it to reflect the yellow firelight.

“It is very fine work,” Odover said finally. His voice was nonchalant, but he kept looking closely at the bowl, still turning it.

Steve could see that Odover was very impressed. The German just didn’t want to admit it too openly. Steve took the next object out of the bag. It was a long, thick armband with a stag’s head in deep relief. He had to stand in order to give it to Hunter, who in turn offered it to Odover.

The village chief grinned broadly this time, revealing some missing and broken teeth. He slipped the armband over his upper arm and turned to see the firelight reflect off it. “Ah, very good. Very good.”

Steve pulled out the third item, which was a large, circular pendant shaped like a bear, hanging on a heavy silver chain. Hunter started to hand it to Odover, as well, but the village chief pointed to Vicinius, instead. So Hunter turned and gave it to the seated warrior.

“This is very fine work,” said Vicinius, accepting the pendant. For a moment, he looked carefully at the bear, smiling. “Yes, perhaps it will bring me the strength of a bear.” He looped the chain over his neck and then looked down at the pendant lying against his chest. “It is a fine gift.”

Steve felt one item remaining in the bottom of the bag. It was a small box with a hinged lid. Trees were shaped in relief on the lid. As he handed the box to Hunter, he felt something slide inside the box.

“Something’s inside it,” he said to Hunter. “Better take a look.”

Hunter opened the lid. Steve could see three rings inside the box. One had a tree on it, one had a fish, and the last had a wolf. Hunter turned the box toward Vicinius and held it out to him.

Vicinius took it, nodding, and placed the box on his lap. He said nothing, but his eyes widened with approval. First he gave two of the rings to Odover, then slipped the one with the wolf on his own finger. He closed the lid and ran his hand over the shapes on top of it.

“We are only poor traders,” said Gene. “Our gifts are small and few. Please forgive us for not bringing better ones.”

“It is beautiful work,” said Vicinius. He gave the silver box to his father.

Odover nodded as he examined it. Then he leaned toward Vicinius and spoke quietly in his ear. Vicinius stood up and walked away into the shadows.

Just outside the circle of firelight, many of the other villagers had gathered to watch. Steve could see women standing there, often surrounded by children with pale blond hair. Other warriors also surrounded the fire of the village chief, curious about the strangers.

Odover said nothing, waiting patiently for Vicinius. He held the box and the bowl on his lap, looking at them as he studied the decorative shapes on them. No one spoke.

Finally Vicinius walked back to the fire with two warriors. His companions carried bundles of furs.

Vicinius held four spears bundled in his arms along with a long, straight dagger.

Odover simply gestured silently toward Hunter.

“We have only the worst gifts for our new friends.” Vicinius rested the spears on the ground and signaled for his companions to bring the furs forward.

“Refuse at first for the sake of modesty,” Gene whispered. “Let him press the gifts on us.”

“Your generosity is not necessary,” said Hunter. “You have already been excellent hosts.”

“We welcome you to our village,” said Odover. “Please accept our humble gifts.”

“You are not dressed for our mountain life,” said Vicinius. “We have fur tunics and cloaks for all of you.”

Hunter accepted the first bundle of furs and passed it to Steve. Then Steve set down the bundle and shook out the top article of clothing. It was a long, hooded cloak of rich brown fur, much warmer than anything the team was wearing.

Steve handed it to Gene and picked up the next one. This cloak, with similar fur, was shorter. He gave it to Jane. The longest, of course, he saved for Hunter. The robot was not as susceptible to cold as the humans, but the garment would be part of his masquerade. Steve swirled the last cloak in the bundle over his own shoulders. He was warm enough by the fire now, but he could feel that this cloak would make a big difference.

“They are fine furs,” said Gene.

Hunter shook out the second bundle. These were calf-length tunics similar in size to those the team was wearing, but made of deerskin. “You are very kind,” Hunter said.

“The spears, of course, are for you to hunt or defend yourselves. This dagger is for her.”

Hunter passed each weapon to Steve, who handed a spear to Gene and the dagger to Jane.

“This has been a good day,” said Vicinius. “In times to come, we will have more furs. You will always be welcome in our village.”

“Thank you,” said Hunter.

“It has grown late,” said Vicinius. “You shall be guests in one of our huts. Please come.”

“Warm clothes and a place to sleep,” said Steve. “We can’t beat that.”