It was dark. In fact, it was very dark. For a moment, Sarah wondered if the Miraculous Stone of Gardar had not made a mistake and put them out somewhere in outer space. Peter wondered if he had been suddenly struck blind. It was rather annoying.
“All here?” it was Merlin’s voice.
“Yes,” all replied.
“Splendid! Now then, I am afraid there is no moon tonight, and it is rather cloudy anyway. Put your hands out. You can hold on to my cloak if you can’t see; Peter, Sarah. It is nothing to worry about, your eyes will get used to the dark eventually. Come on! The Stone has put us down near to where I left for Britain yesterday. It is not far to Arthur’s camp.”
They went a few paces forward, very slowly. The ground seemed to be rough and the children stumbled in the dark. The only person who did not stumble was Anir, who was used to finding his way at night.
“Merlin?”
“Yes Peter.”
“Where are we exactly?”
“Exactly, Hmmm, let me see, exactly… Exactly, we are about half a mile outside Autun, which is where the Emperor Arthur has his fortified camp at present.”
“And where is that?” Sarah asked.
“Somewhere in the middle to bottom end of Gaul,” the wizard replied with a sigh, “questions, questions, all these questions. You must wear your teachers out!”
“But where’s Gaul?” Sarah asked again.
“Don’t you know THAT,” interrupted Peter, “it is what they used to call France of course, you silly!”
“FRANCE! What on earth are we doing in France?” wailed Sarah, completely confused.
“We are here because this is where the enemy is,” answered Merlin, suddenly bringing their discussion to an end. “Please look out, everyone. The ground slopes away quite steeply just here, do be careful.”
“If only it wasn’t so dark,” said Peter.
“Hang on, it needn’t be,” cried Sarah. “Stop everybody, I have just the very thing!”
They all stopped walking and stood by curiously, while Sarah took off her rucksack and felt around in it for her torch. At last it was found.
“It would have to be right down at the bottom,” she muttered. She brought it out, found Merlin’s hand and gave him the torch.
“What is this?” he asked.
“It’s a torch, I mean, it is a machine that makes light.”
“You modern people seem to have machines to do everything,” Merlin said, with a slightly scornful tone in his voice. “You will have to show me how to use it. I am not familiar with this light machine.”
He shook it hard.
“Oh, don’t do that. The batteries will fall out. Look, there’s a little switch, just here.”
Sarah put Merlin’s finger on it and pushed it on… and off… and on again.
“My thanks to you, Sarah, we may go along now a little quicker.”
Merlin plunged down the wooded hillside at a greatly increased pace, so much so, that Peter and Sarah had great difficulty in following him.
“I’m sure we won’t be quick enough for Aunt Myf,” thought Peter, “we only have five hours. We shall just get to see King Arthur and say ‘hello’ and then it will be time to go home. What a nuisance.”
Aloud he said:
“I wonder what the time is?”
He could not make it out on his watch.
Anir had travelled so far in complete silence. He was engrossed in listening and observing and thinking. He now answered Peter.
“The time? It is about one hour before dawn. My guess is that we will pass into Arthur’s Camp quite a bit before true sunrise.”
“You are most observant, friend Anir. I want Arthur to meet you before anyone else does.”
“Why?” asked Sarah.
“Because, just at the moment, you both look a little too strange for your own good. You will need a disguise to start with.”
“Oh!”
“Then you will need to familiarise yourself with life in the camp, our ways and customs, so that you may blend into the background. Arthur and I agreed on an alias if you did happen to accompany the Ring of Concealment. Our story is that you are children of some distant relation of Arthur’s. The Roman Emperor Odovacer has taken your parents prisoner. This means that everyone in the Camp will be very sympathetic to you while with us. It also explains why you are travelling with us for the present. There! What do you think?”
“It’s very clever,” said Sarah, “but when does The Ring come into it?”
“Ho, ho! Steady on little maid,” laughed Merlin, “first things first! You have a great deal to get used to before then. Remember you are now 1,500 years before your time. Most of life, here and now, is very different from that to which you are accustomed. Although, even so, you will find that the people are much the same.”
They all walked on in silence for quite a while. Somehow Sarah could not get her brain round the fact that she was in France, and ancient France, or Gaul at that! Peter was thinking about Time…
They had so much to do and so little time in which to do it. Only five hours, and it must be even less by now. How did time work here? Did it slow down or stop as it appeared to do when they travelled via the Stone, or didn’t it? How long had they been walking?
Peter held his wristwatch up to his ear. It was a really good watch, one of those that you could go diving in, if you wanted to. It had just had a new battery put in it last week, so Peter expected it to last at least another year before stopping. Yes, he could hear it go ‘tick, tick.’ All was well. When it was light enough, the first thing he was going to do was to check the time on his watch.
At last, a pale glow showed over the hills to the east. A breeze sighed in the trees around them.
“Dawn is coming,” said Anir.
“Nearly there,” Merlin said encouragingly, “if you look down there and to the left, you may begin to see the town of Autun.” Peter and Sarah looked. I am afraid to say that they were not much impressed.
“It’s not as big as Haverfordwest,” whispered Sarah.
“It’s not as big as Newport, and the buildings seem to look rather the worse for wear. Those larger buildings over there are all in bits.”
What was left of the civic buildings in Autun were hardly impressive, although they must have been so once. The temples to the gods, the basilicas, the baths, the walls and fortifications, the great arena and latterly, the churches, had all come in for a pasting by parties of marauding barbarians.
“And so would you be too in bits, if the Goths had been attacking you for the past several years!” Merlin told them with much feeling, “but here is our camp, The Emperor Arthur’s Camp!” Merlin said proudly, continuing his guided tour, “look; down by the river there.”
This time they were rather more impressed. The camp was absolutely huge. It looked like a spread out fort or castle. Built in squares and rectangles and holding a great many tents and wooden huts, it was practically as big as the town beyond.
“Gosh! Arthur must have an enormous army,” said Sarah.
“Oh, only several thousands, about twenty or thirty thousand,” said Merlin, airily, “not all Britons or from Britain, of course; a great many are our allies. Lucius, our enemy, has more. I heard someone say the other day, that he has twelve legions, with nearly seven thousand men in each legion. I do hope that is an exaggeration, but our scouts will soon find out if it is true!”
They were passing swiftly down the hill, towards the river. Only a little further and they would arrive at the partly fortified gates of Arthur’s Camp. It was growing lighter by the minute. Merlin returned Sarah’s torch. Peter tried looking at his watch but could not quite make out the hands. They walked on in complete silence, not wishing to attract undue attention from even the friendliest of eyes.
The fortified Camp gates loomed large out of the morning mists that rise by great rivers at dawn. There were guards on the gate. From what he could remember from school history lessons, Peter thought they looked like the pictures of legionaries, only their shields were flatter and rounder. They saluted Merlin. One of them spoke in a language that was quite unintelligible to Peter or Sarah. Was it Greek, British, Celt or Latin? Their spirits sank as they began to realise that possibly no-one spoke English here, but then Merlin pointed his staff at them and they found that they were able to understand everything.
“Cool,” thought Sarah, “that staff, or wand, or whatever it is, would come in jolly handy at school. I would soon be top in French. I do wish I had one of those!”
“I was just introducing you to Marcus here,” said Merlin, pointing his staff at the guard. “I am telling him about all the rotten things the soldiers of Lucius Iberius have done to your family.”
Peter and Sarah nodded, as if seeming to agree.
“You had better take them straight to Arthur,” said Marcus. “Poor things! The Emperor will be awake now as it is almost sunrise.”
And indeed, the first rays began to appear above the glowing ball, which showed itself from behind a distant hill. Peter, Sarah and Anir followed Merlin up the track to the Camp gate and through it to the Camp beyond. What a marvel it was! The serried ranks of tents, made of some kind of animal hide or skins, were arranged most precisely in regular patterns, as was ever the Roman way. They were quite large tents, and as Merlin told them, there were at least eight men inside each one. Peter and Sarah could hardly take it all in. They marched up what seemed to be a main road leading to a wide space.
“This is the Forum or parade ground,” Merlin said in explanation.
“I thought that the Forum was in Rome,” Sarah whispered.
“No,” said Peter, “most Roman towns had one, and I gather that Roman camps had them too.”
“But Arthur is BRITISH!”
“Sarah, weren’t you paying ANY attention to what Merlin was saying at Arx Emain?”
“Yes, really I was, but being put down in Ancient France has got me seriously confused. Where is Camelot? That’s what I want to know.”
“If there is one, it will be back in Britain, I mean Britannia. But I have a funny feeling that there wasn’t one; isn’t one, I mean. Oh dear, now I’m getting confused!”
“Ssh!”
Anir prodded them forward towards the most enormous, most grand, most richly decorated tent in the whole camp.
“This is the Praetorium!” Merlin proudly announced, “or if you like, the Headquarters of the whole Army; the Generals’, Officers’ and our Emperor’s temporary home!”
They were all standing before the entrance to the tent. Merlin took his staff and knocked with it on one of the tent posts.
“Come in,” said a voice, “I know it’s you, Merlin,” and they all went inside.
There before them was the young Arthur. He was a young man of about twenty years or so. He was very tall. Quite a bit taller than Anir whom Peter and Sarah thought to be well over six feet. He had short, curly black hair, was clean shaven and had steely blue eyes.
“Wow!” thought Sarah, “he’s really handsome. Much better looking than any of the film actors who have played him.”
“What a leader!” Peter was thinking. “He looks to be awfully strong, terribly fit and I don’t think he needs weight lifting lessons at any gym.”
King, or was it Emperor Arthur had turned round to face them. He had a rough towel in his hand. A bowl of steaming water stood on a table. They had caught him at his toilet; washing to get ready for the day and its duties. Like all the good Romans before him, he took great care over his appearance.
“Good morning Merlin and friends. And whom do we have here?”
“I have brought Peter and Sarah.”
Peter bowed and Sarah curtseyed.
“And this is Anir, The Guardian of all the lands in the Domain belonging to the Kingdom of Gwyn-ap-Nudd, Lord of the Elves.”
Anir bowed low. Introductions over, Arthur finished drying himself off and went to find the leather corselet that went over his tunic.
“Gwyn-ap-Nudd. Ah yes, I must look him up when we get back home. He could prove a useful ally. Merlin, you will remind me to do that.”
“I shall not forget, Highness.”
The young Emperor continued to get himself ready.
“Where on earth is my other boot? I’m sorry Peter, Sarah and Anir, I have an awful lot to get through today and any minute now they will all be in here, wanting to know what to do next! Now, if you will… Ah there it is! Under my bed all the time.”
He retrieved the boot and put it on. They were beautiful red leather boots and he was obviously rather proud of them.
“As I was just going to say, Peter and Sarah, you are to be my long lost cousins. We nobles always have hoards of ‘em. Makes inheritance that much more interesting. You Anir had better be a long lost Uncle, or something. You are staying with me while we search for your parents who have been captured by Lucius Iberius. We could say that they are up for ransom. Enemies are always doing that these days. It makes money for their next campaign.”
“That is our cover story, all right,” said Peter, “but don’t we look a bit odd?”
“Of course you do. How stupid of me! Merlin, do you see that chest by my bed? Just pull it out will you. That’s it! Peter and Sarah; if you look inside, you will find appropriate clothes for your disguise.”
They went over to the chest and pulled several tunics and cloaks. There were also several pairs of sandals to try. When they were both accoutred Roman style, Arthur walked around them.
“A definite improvement, I think. Strange clothes you wear in the future! By the way, Merlin, I wanted to ask you; am I allowed to visit the future?”
“I am not sure at present. We will think about it when you have won your next battle.”
“Then I AM going to win!”
Arthur gave a broad grin. He was pleased at having wrung a prediction out of Merlin who was noted for being tight with information.
“I didn’t say that,” Merlin said crossly.
“I’m going to win! I’m going to win! Oh Merlin, you are so exasperating sometimes. Sarah, have you brought the Ring of Concealment?”
He turned and looked at Sarah with his piercing blue eyes. She dug down into the bottom of her rucksack.
“Here it is,” she said, passing it over to Arthur.
Arthur put it on.
“How does it work?” he said. Sarah showed him.
“You have to turn it round and close your fist over the jewel.”
“Like this?” Arthur disappeared.
“Yes, just like that.”
“Oh this is fun! Look Merlin, I can tickle you from behind and you can’t see me!” Merlin gave a jump.
“Arthur!” he said, sounding annoyed.
The young Emperor reappeared and gave the Ring back to Sarah.
“That is likely to be a formidable weapon. Hide it for us, Sarah, until the time comes when our plans are ripe. You had better, both of you, put these funny clothes of yours inside your funny bags. Use these instead.”
Arthur passed the children a large bag made of leather each. “You can put your supplies and treasures in these. I will keep all your things in my special chest. No one DARES to touch anything in there, do they, Merlin?”
“Oh no, certainly not. They would not dream of it,” Merlin replied, frowning and looking very guilty.
The children wondered if Arthur knew about the borrowed chess piece. Merlin then continued, brazenly:
“However, speaking of treasures, one of your chess pieces seems to have fallen out of its box. Here…”
He passed the silver knight to Arthur. Arthur gave Merlin a knowing look, but he just said:
“Thank you Merlin,” and replaced the chess piece in its box inside the chest.
“And now for breakfast. I am feeling particularly hungry and I expect you are too.”
He clapped his hands and in came a golden haired youth, bearing a large dish with bread cakes, cheese and apples on it. “Thank you, Osric, and we shall have some hot spiced wine as well as water today, and more bread please.”
Osric bowed to his Lord and left hurriedly, reappearing soon after with the drinks and more food.
“I suppose this makes a change from tea and toast,” said Sarah.
“Or coffee and Cornflakes,” laughed Peter.
He looked at his watch. Amazingly, only two and a half minutes had elapsed.
“Thank goodness!” he thought, “if time goes as slowly as this, we might be able to spend several days here.”
Outside the tent the Camp began to stir. Horses neighed in the cavalry lines and there were sounds from the other animals that were in Arthur’s camp: cows, sheep, pigs and chickens, so that it sounded like a noisy farm. The soldiers began to go about their duties. Servants and others began the task of feeding vast numbers and armourers could be heard attending to the dents and knocks sustained in previous battles. When Arthur had finished his own breakfast he smiled cheerfully at his guests. “And now to the business of the day,” he said.
Now, his manner had been so easy and pleasant, positively laid back, as Sarah thought; that the two children had almost forgotten that they were on a mission.
“I beg your leave, fair cousins; I shall call you cousins for the duration of this venture. I regret that I must presently hold a meeting with my generals, officers and the leaders of our allied troops. Thus, Merlin, I call upon you to take our guests around the Camp, so that they may see and know and perhaps marvel at our might. At the end of one hour please bring them back to us. There will be arrangements to be made, and I have the feeling that things will move swiftly from now on. Farewell to you all until then.”
Merlin opened the tent flap and shooed them out. It was a lovely hot summer’s day.
“Better and better!” cried Peter. “We left home in winter and here we are in summer!”
“You should have brought sunblock with you, brother dear,” Sarah remarked, “it looks like today is going to be a scorcher.”
“If it is, I would not like to be any of them,” said Anir, as he pointed out some rather young looking soldiers being drilled by their sergeants.
Many were wearing armour that was made of metal layers, some wore chain mail, some wore leather jerkins and it all looked extremely hot and heavy. They carried round flat shields and short swords. The gladius was still the chief infantry weapon of any half decent Roman army and a very effective one too!
“We will walk around the Intervallum,” said Merlin, “then you will see the whole of the Camp at a glance, so to speak.”
“What is the Intervallum?” asked Sarah.
“It is a space between two things. In this case, a space between the ramparts and the tents of the Camp itself,” Merlin replied. “As you may observe by the state of the ramparts, our fortifications have been made in rather too much of a hurry. They need to be improved, especially if it turns out that Arthur has to fight the Roman Emperor as well as his Consul. We have to be strong enough here to withstand a long siege, if necessary.”
He turned down what looked like the main road round the Camp. On either side the cavalrymen were seeing to their horses. Then the Wizard turned left and into the wide gap between the fence and the tents.
“Intervallum, Intervallum!” muttered Sarah. “If it’s the interval, Peter, when do we get the chocolates and ice creams?”
“Silly goose!” was all the reply Sarah had from her brother, “I brought a note book, Sis, and when we get back I’m going to make a plan of this Camp. It will be Brill at school I bet.”
Thus, Merlin took Peter, Sarah and Anir around the Camp. There had been plenty of horses and plenty of armour to look at, but none looked anything like what Sarah had imagined. Some of the older soldiers greeted them. One or two of the legionaries complained to them. Although the army was a good life, they said, it was not like the Good Old Days.
“When Britain was the home of some of the greatest Legions the Empire ever had!” one said. “Ah! We were tough then, all right! We used to march thirty miles a day with a full pack on our backs to fight a battle and if you didn’t go quick enough, they flogged you. March or die, that’s what!”
“You’re right you are,” said another, “discipline was much better then. We’d march and march, and then we’d have to make camp from scratch every night. And drill? We’d drill for hours and hours and then we’d have to dig ditches and ramparts, or even build bridges! And those Centurions? Well they could really give orders! Their shouting could be heard from here to Rome, I tell you! These young ones don’t know they’re born!”
“But The Lord Arthur is a good leader.”
“Aye, one of the best. He’s one that cares about his men, he does.”
And so the conversation went on, the Old Legionaries agreeing most pleasantly with each other.
Merlin’s party moved on.
“So many tents,” Peter whispered to Anir, “and so many different groups.”
“Yes,” answered Anir, “I guess that the main troops of Arthur’s army are Roman Britons as he is, from either our own Islands or from the mainland. Little Britannia across the sea, I believe they call it, or Armorica.”
“Well, I think it’s all completely and utterly mystifying!” interrupted Sarah.
“Then,” continued Anir, ignoring her, “there will be Arthur’s allies. People he has called upon to help him fight the Proconsul Lucius. They might come from anywhere in the Roman Empire and probably do.”
“How do you know that?” Sarah asked him.
“Because Gwyn-ap-Nudd has told me about that time,” explained Anir simply, “remember, he lived through that age. It is only one out of many that he has experienced. It holds no surprises for him, only for us who do not know it.”
“Do you know what is going to happen then?” asked Peter.
“Perhaps… perhaps not,” Anir replied enigmatically.
“You are very mysterious, Anir,” Sarah said, “don’t you find this all very mysterious Peter?”
“But it’s exciting, Sis! I wouldn’t miss this for anything. It’s all so different.”
They passed the cavalry lines again, where the horses were being tended to by their riders. Although, if the horses belonged to officers, they were fed and watered by servants. Peter and Sarah saw that the cavalry soldiers were dressed and equipped differently to the foot soldiers; having lighter armour, a smaller shield, a longer sword and a lance. There were many more riders now in Arthur’s legion than formerly. The art of war was beginning to change and the young leader tried hard to keep up with the times.
The Generals of the Emperor Arthur and their troops endeavoured to maintain the customs of the old Roman army as much as possible. However, they too were not dressed as heavily or uniformly as the soldiers had been under the old Emperors: Augustus, Trajan, or even Constantine. Eventually, then, Peter and Sarah found themselves once more walking down the Via Praetoria, or the main road that led to Arthur’s Headquarters.
When they came near Arthur’s tent they could hear men’s voices raised in animated discussion. Merlin tapped on the tent pole, but this time he did not wait outside but went straight inside. Besides Arthur, there were several other men in the tent who were obviously his Generals; chieftains of some kind or another. They were seated on benches at a table. There were also some other soldiers (Centurions perhaps?) in armour standing round.
“Waiting for their daily orders,” thought Peter.
He suddenly felt immensely excited and wished he were old enough to be among them.
“Gormant, my half brother; Flergant, King of Armorica; Kaw, Lord of the North Britons; Henwyneb, my old friend; Gyssevin, my champion; Kai and Bedwyr, please greet my cousins and Anir, their uncle,” said Arthur.
The chieftains nodded and smiled at them. The two cousins bowed to the assembly and waited to see what would happen next. Unperturbed, Merlin went straight to the table upon which lay a parchment map.
“Well then, Arthur, what are you going to do?”
“Gormant says that the prisoners of the first skirmish are safely on their way to Paris. However, he has brought some others back here.”
“What a nuisance! Extra mouths to feed. Still, they may have their uses.”
“One of them has been very useful already. Gormant tells me that one of them says: not only that there are less of them than we had first thought, but that Lucius Iberius is on his way to Langres right now.”
“Splendid!” said Merlin.
“Oh, is it, why?”
“Well of course it is, my dear Arthur. If he marches into Langres then he is probably going to come back here. But you could find that out for certain and then lay your plans.”
Merlin peered at the map.
“It would be excellent if you were able to cut him off here.”
The wizard made a stabbing motion at some spot on the map that Sarah and Peter could not see.
“But first,” he continued, “you will probably have to send a scouting party to Langres with a fair number of spies attached. Yes, it seems vital that you find out where Lucius will go next. Then you may be able to trap the insolent tax collector!”
“Would-be insolent tax collector,” corrected Arthur. “All those in favour of sending a spying party to Langres raise your hands.”
All did so.
“Fine, no abstentions then. That would seem to be fairly conclusive. The only thing we have left to decide is: who will go to Langres? Will you Gormant?”
A huge man got up from the table. Peter presumed that it must be Gormant.
“I will go,” he said, “the best in my Legion will go with me, but as to the spies… they must be volunteers.”
Anir stepped forward at once:
“I am used to passing through this place and that unnoticed,” he said.
“That is one spy for our mission, thank you, Anir,” said Arthur.
“I would like to go too,” Peter said excitedly, determined now upon seeing some action.
“No!” returned Merlin sharply and suddenly, “I have been thinking this over. I say no! You must be our guests, Peter and Sarah, not combatants and certainly not spies. Our enemies are not over kind to spies, if and when they find them.”
“Then I will find someone from my troops,” said Flergant.
“And I will make up the remainder from my army,” added Kaw.
“Very good,” said Arthur, “then make all ready!”
He was well pleased at the result of this meeting. The Generals and other officers got up to leave and the gathering broke up. After they had all gone, Arthur turned to Anir.
“You are not bound to go,” he said.
“I will go all the same,” Anir replied.
“Then Sarah had better give her Ring to you,” said Peter.
“Very well, will you give it back to me?” asked Anir, looking hard at her.
Most willingly she passed the Ring of Concealment over to him.
“Merlin, see that Anir and the others have all they need for the journey,” said the Emperor Arthur.
“Aye, Lord,” said Merlin, and led Anir, Sarah and Peter out of the tent.
“You two wait here,” the wizard told them sternly.
“Bother!” said Peter, under his breath, “I really did want to go too.”
“I shall return ‘ere long to bid you farewell,” said Anir.
Then, as soon as Merlin turned his back, he winked at the two children and suddenly passed the Ring back to Peter.
“Back soon!” he hissed at them and walked off behind Merlin.
“That’s a turn up for the books, and no mistake!” breathed Peter, very much surprised.
“Does he mean you to go too?”
“I don’t know, Sarah, but it looks hopeful. He must have overheard my whisper.”
“He must have done. But I don’t know if… now that it comes to it, I can let you go.”
“Don’t worry Sis, I’ve got the Ring. It’ll all be fine, you’ll see!”
And so saying, Peter and Sarah sat down in front of King Arthur’s tent to wait and see what might happen next.