The Ring of Gyges - Chapter Six

As they sat outside Arthur’s tent, Peter and Sarah could hear Arthur talking to Osric. It was nothing exciting. He just ordered lunch, or Prandium, as they called it in Roman times, for himself and his guests. Peter and Sarah gathered that luncheon was going to be similar to breakfast, with the addition of hard boiled eggs, fish and vegetables.

“This is boring,” Sarah remarked flatly. “I thought it was going to be much more exciting than this.”

“Hang on, Sarah. We’ve only been here a couple of hours.”

Peter looked at his watch. It said twelve thirty six, the time at home in modern Britain. The two watched Arthur’s soldiers getting on with their work. Presently, some of them marched on to the forum and began to drill again, almost exactly as Peter had seen people do on the television films about army life at home. It did look very boring. The Centurions shouted loudly and often at their men as they marched them up and down. Peter was glad that he was not one of them.

Osric came out of the tent and disappeared off towards the back of the Camp. Everybody seemed to have something to do, except for Peter and Sarah. Even Anir had been taken off to prepare for the journey to Langres.

Various people visited Arthur during the next hour, including Gormant, who came to give a full report on the previous day’s battles and to plan the spying mission in greater detail. This was interesting, to Peter at least! He sat himself closer to the tent in order to listen. Engrossed in the conversation of others, Peter did not notice Sarah get up and walk off.

“I’m fed up,” she had thought, “I think I shall go and see if I can find Anir. Peter won’t mind.”

So she got up quietly from her place by the tent and wandered about the Camp like a tourist. At the back of the tents she found the ovens, where bread and pastries were being baked by the servants and camp women, and on which the midday meal was cooking. Although, they were hardly ovens as Sarah knew them; they were more like stone-ringed camp fires with the kitchen pots and pans put on the top of them.

Then she went to inspect the Bath House and Latrines! These also turned out to be not at all what Sarah expected. The Bath House was very similar to those she had once visited in Bath, only much smaller and plainer. The Latrines, which she described to Peter later as a matter of some urgency, were almost unbearable, unless perhaps you were a soldier and used to the indelicate! She passed quickly by these last, and then found a man with a big anvil who was trying to ease a dent in someone’s helmet.

Sarah stood and watched the smith work for some time. She thought the whole process interesting and liked watching the sparks fly into the air when the hammer came down upon the metal. Then she went to look at the tents of Arthur’s allies, where some very strange looking people were stationed. Arthur must have had an extremely wide circle of friends ready and willing to help him. Unfortunately, Anir was nowhere to be seen.

“I can’t imagine where he can be,” Sarah thought, somewhat crossly.

At last, she decided to return to the tent, only to find that Peter had gone.

“Where is that brother of mine?” she began to mutter under her breath.

Sarah walked all round the tent in her frustration. Then, round the final corner she almost ran straight into Peter and Anir. Peter was smiling and looking extremely excited.

“Anir says that I can go after all. Isn’t it great!”

“But only if you do exactly what I say,” warned Anir. “I can’t take bits and pieces of you back to Aunt Myf.”

“I solemnly promise to do whatever you tell me to do,” Peter said, holding up his right hand, “just as long as I can go with you, please?”

“In that case, you had better make sure that you are completely ready by after lunch. I have taken enough food for two in my saddlebags, so that is taken care of. We shall only be away overnight, assuming that all goes to plan. I do need some extra bread though, Sarah, be a good girl and go to where the ovens are. They are still making bread for the soldiers’ midday meal. Go and ask one of the bakers for a couple of extra rolls each.”

“OK,” said Sarah, and sped away.

“Now Peter, I want to make sure that you understand what you are about to undertake. Someone small, who can go silently has to go very close to, if not right inside, the headquarters of Lucius Iberius. That is of course, assuming we can actually get safely inside the town of Langres.”

Peter’s stomach sank. He suddenly had a niggling feeling that Anir wanted him to be that someone. Was this why he had sent Sarah to the other end of the Camp? If she found out that this was the plan, Peter was sure that Sarah would ‘freak out’ and refuse to let him go at all. Perhaps Anir knew that.

Then, within a deep cranny of his brain, there was another question to be answered. Did Peter really trust Anir to keep him safe during such a trial? When Anir spoke again, he answered this last query in part.

“Perhaps it is better if Sarah does not know the full details of our secret mission until our return. You and I should be quite safe with the Ring of Concealment. At any rate, if you do not want to trust yourself to me and my Ring that is fair enough. You are quite free to take up this offer of adventure, or not. If not, then I shall just have to do the job by myself, although I think it might prove good enough as a Test for you.”

Peter momentarily ignored Anir’s last remark about a Test. He had enough to think about with thoughts of becoming a spy, however temporary that might prove to be! With all the excitement going on around him, it was easy to forget about the adventure being a Test until much later.

“Let me think it over, Anir.”

“Very well.”

“I’ve thought! I’ll do it. I do trust you enough Anir to know that you will keep me safe and bring me back. But what will Sarah do while we are away?”

“I am sure that Merlin will look after her, and Arthur too. However, what does she think of you leaving her here alone? We should ask her when she arrives with the bread.”

The two conspirators did not have to wait long. Two minutes later, Sarah returned with the rolls and Anir stowed them away in his bag. Then Anir and Peter told her most of what they had been discussing. For a little while she pretended to be angry at them for leaving her alone, but then she admitted that she was too nervous to go on such a trip.

“I don’t think I would even like to go as far as the outskirts of Langres, never mind into the enemy’s stronghold. I don’t fancy creeping round someone else’s Camp. This one is quite strange enough for me. I can do some research while you are gone. Yes, that’s it! I shall be a researcher. I shall like staying here with Merlin and the Emperor. You and Anir can go gallivanting off, if that’s what you like, to risk your necks, if you like. I’ll stay here. I’m just glad you have that you will have the Ring, Peter. I know you will need it.”

Sarah swung round on the heel of her sandal in a sort of pirouette.

“You never know,” she said, “I might even get to play chess with those wonderful silver chess pieces.”

Peter studied his sister’s face, he saw that she looked relieved. She really did not want to go at all. Sarah knew that the legionaries of Arthur and his allies were fearsome and in deadly earnest. The thought of meeting any more strange soldiers, especially those who would wish her harm, was just too much for her. She was actually more than happy for others to have this adventure.

“So then,” said Anir, now it was all decided, “whatever happens, I suggest that you two get some rest. You have both had an early start, a double early start in fact.”

“Does that mean we shall get ‘jet lag’?” asked Peter.

“Probably. Merlin has told me that you may share his tent, as far as sleeping goes, but you shall eat at the table of The Lord Arthur. After all, you have both joined the royalty now!”

Anir made Sarah and Peter a mock bow.

“Merlin’s tent is close to Arthur’s, with those of his Officers, as you might expect. Come, I will show you where it is and you must both try to have some sleep.”

Anir walked away and off to the left, behind the huge tent that was the Emperor’s, and so to the one belonging to Merlin. Anir called Merlin’s name and the wizard appeared at the tent’s opening.

“Welcome to the tent of Merlin,” he said, “there plenty of furs on the floor and silken cushions on my bed. Make yourselves comfortable and sleep well. Anir, perhaps you would care to rest here also?”

“I think I shall Merlin, thank you. Come on Peter and Sarah, you lie down on the bed and I will make myself a place on the furs by the door.”

“Sleep well friends. I am going to see our young Emperor. We will expect you all to join us later on for Prandium, sorry, luncheon. Farewell.”

With that, Merlin was gone. Anir lay down on the furs and slept straight away. For too many long years he had trained his body to the limits until now it did whatever he told it to do. Sarah was surprisingly glad of a nap and Peter also. It was partly the shock of their new surroundings. At home, only a few minutes had elapsed since they had left but Sarah felt as if she had lived an extra day already.

“Oh Peter, I do feel tired,” she sighed, and fell asleep in seconds.

Peter pondered on what might happen next. Then he put it away from his thoughts and slept soundly.

The noise as of a bell out of tune being rung in their ears, woke all three travellers, shortly before midday.

“What in tarnation is that?” yawned Peter.

“I think they are ringing the gong for lunch, or Prandium, or whatever they call it. I am beginning to wish that we learnt Latin at school instead of French. It would be a lot more useful here.”

Sarah stretched and got up.

“Hey ho!” she said, “they don’t even know what French is yet do they?”

“I suppose it must be Gaulish,” Peter said, “whatever that is, but I don’t really know. I have never thought about it before.”

Anir leapt up.

“Come on both of you, time to eat,” he said, and hurried out of the tent.

Peter and Sarah followed him as quickly as they could because they were both feeling hungry again.

“I’m not going to enjoy this,” Sarah said to Peter on the way to Arthur’s tent, “I don’t like hard boiled eggs.”

“Just eat the fish and veg. then, and give all the eggs to me. I love them,” said Peter, “and don’t worry, you can always pig out on fruit, bread and cheese. They never seem to run out of those.”

Anir tapped upon Arthur’s tent post, as Merlin had done. A voice answered and they all went in.

The map table was covered with dishes. Osric stood to one side of it, holding an enormous pitcher of water. Arthur half reclined on a bench covered in the finest rugs and cushions, while Merlin sat bolt upright at the end of another bench.

“Never could get used to these dashed Roman habits,” he said. “Thank you, Osric I shall take some wine as well as water today.”

Osric obediently filled Merlin’s cup and Arthur signed for his guests to join the meal. They ate hungrily. There were three courses and they were just finishing the third, when Gormant arrived unannounced.

“My Emperor, everything is ready. I think that we must leave now or we may not make Langres until tomorrow. I do not want to be outside that town in daylight, or for longer than is necessary. It would not do for us to be discovered.”

“If you must, you must,” Arthur returned, “you have our leave to go, and the blessing of our God and his Saints be with you.”

Anir and Peter stood up.

“Are you resolved upon going?” Gormant asked them.

“We are!” both replied, with strong and unfaltering voices.

“Then we ride to Langres immediately. I give you my word that we shall return with all the information that you require, my Lord Arthur.”

Gormant bowed to his half-brother and made his exit.

Peter and Anir grabbed their bags and bade a hasty farewell to Sarah, Merlin and Arthur. Then they left the tent to find a troop of the very best cavalry mounted in the Forum. Gormant was at his horse’s side, waiting for them. The hot midday sun shone on their helmets and armour, their swords and their shields.

“Hail to our Emperor, Arthur the Great!” all cried, as Arthur came from the tent to receive their salute.

“And all hail to Gormant, Our brave leader!” the men chorused again, as Gormant leapt into the saddle.

Peter noticed that strangely enough nobody had stirrups, just like the Elves.

“You ride with me, young Peter,” said Anir and straightway, he pulled him up on to his horse.

Peter sat in front of Anir so that he could cling on to the horse’s mane.

“Away troops, To Langres!” cried Gormant.

“To Langres, To Langres!” the troops answered.

Sarah ran from the tent and waved as hard as she could. They were soon all gone from her through the fortified gate, in a great cloud of dust. Sarah was, and felt, quite alone.

“Never fear, little maid, we will look after you. Do not worry about your brother for he is in the best company. Gormant and his legionaries are very brave and I know that your Anir is too.”

Merlin had come out from behind the tent and put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

“I’m not THAT little, thank you,” pouted Sarah.

“We shall attend to all your needs while you are here nonetheless, whether you be big or little. You may stay in Arthur’s tent now, until they call the evening meal. Gustatio, it is called here. I suppose you might call it dinner or supper. It will be a very grand affair this evening, because with Lucius and his army at Langres, we may take our ease, for tonight at least.” Merlin smiled, and pulled an egg from behind Sarah’s ear.

“But I don’t like eggs,” she began.

“This one is different.”

Merlin cracked the egg open, and out flew a butterfly.

“How pretty. Do you like butterflies a lot Merlin?”

“They represent ephemeral things, time passing, as I hope it will for you while your brother is away. When the spies return, who knows? We may have another big battle to fight.”

“I do hope Peter will be alright.”

“He will, I am sure of it.”

Merlin stepped inside Arthur’s tent. Sarah was surprised to find that Arthur was not there.

“He has gone to inspect his troops at their exercises.”

Merlin answered her unspoken question.

“They must be drilled and drilled again, until their moves are perfect and their discipline under the Generals is entirely automatic. On this the survival of the Roman Legions once depended and on this the survival of our Romano-British Army now depends; that and the fact that we always have everything we need right here with us. We are entirely self-sufficient!”

Sarah was impressed. Then she asked about something which had been bothering her since their arrival.

“Merlin,”

“Yes, Sarah.”

“Why is this Camp of Arthur’s so dug in? I mean, it has a ditch and a huge fence on top of the earth ramparts, stakes coming out from the ditch AND a sort of wooden fort at each of the gates. Why is it like that when armies move about so much?”

“Armies do move about, Sarah, but this will be our base for quite a little while. We have come here from Mont St. Michael, and although the next battle may be in another place, somewhere convenient for an ambush, I hope…”

Merlin smiled darkly.

“we shall return here and probably not move again until next summer. If we are victorious that is, and I am fairly certain that we shall be, even though the odds are stacked against us.”

“Are they?” asked Sarah, horrified.

“Oh yes, as I told you before, Lucius Iberius has thousands of troops from all over the Roman Empire. It will be the Golden Dragon versus the Roman Eagle again, just like the good old days before Claudius conquered Britannia in forty five AD.”

Merlin rubbed his hands in glee. Sarah got the distinct impression that Merlin was one of the Old Britons who had managed not to be entirely Romanised. He certainly was a very odd person.

“In those days,” Merlin went on, “Britons used to enjoy a good scrap with the Empire. Then we became the Romans and have been so for hundreds and hundreds of years. But now, when Arthur has finished here, it is the Invaders from the North that we must attend to. I am afraid that Vortigern, and others before him, made a big mistake when they invited them in to guard our northern marches. When we return to Britannia, Arthur and his troops will be older and wiser, and all the more powerful for being so. Arthur will have the strength to give those Saxons what they deserve.

Yes! Romans have been in Britannia for age after age. The Authorities may have gone now, yes, but those who remain keep hold of the glory they brought with them. The organisation, the buildings, our baths, the roads, the trade, (we still trade with Rome even now, you know!) our entire way of life, in fact. May it ever be so! Sorrowfully, I have to say that the Saxons, though colourful, have no respect for any of that. At all costs we must try to hang on to our civilised way of living. I would hate to have to do without baths, fine food, wine, glass in the windows and central heating.

Like the little butterfly I showed you just now, Sarah, our civilisation is precious and delicate. It is something we must nurture and protect at all costs. Sometimes, as now, I am afraid it is something we have to fight for. Then the only hope we have is that we have the greater forces, the better commanders, the more courageous soldiers, heavier armaments and God on our side. Ho, hum!”

The wizard yawned. Then he grinned a wicked grin at Sarah.

“In the old days, when it was the Romans that we used to bash up regularly, we had many gods on our side, positively hundreds to call upon; but then they did too. Was more the merrier or not, I wonder? They did not always seem to be powerful enough for the job in hand! We did not win against the Romans at any rate.

Now Romans and Ex-Romans all worship the same God. Constantine decreed it a long time ago. Although, now I come to think of it, the new religion came over just before the invasion of Claudius. There used to be a very nice Basilica belonging to it in the town of Silchester I believe. A friend of mine used to visit it frequently. Most faithful she was, my friend Drusilla.

Now none of us Britons, (well perhaps I should say: hardly any of us) use the old Temples to the gods. But in fact you could say that this God, the one that the Elves call the Power of All Powers, has been here longer than the Romans. Well then,” the wizard laughed softly, “in a manner of speaking, I suppose He has always been with us… but whatever the facts; I sincerely hope that He is on our side now!”

“I hope He is too!” said Sarah, aloud to Merlin.

The Wizard looked at her sympathetically.

“And I hope He is with my foolhardy brother as well,” she thought.

Merlin patted her patronisingly on the head. Sarah squirmed inwardly. She and Peter always hated grown-ups who did things like that!

“I must leave you now. I have a few things of my own to see to. Oh yes, and by the way, tonight at dinner you shall meet formally and properly two of Arthur’s greatest Commanders; the Lord Kai and the Lord Bedwyr. They are two allies and friends of the Emperor of whom you may have heard in your own time. Rest well, take your ease, I will be back before dinner.”

Merlin left Sarah feeling slightly irritated with wizards, but just a little more knowledgeable about the Roman Britons than she had been. She also wondered about Merlin’s mixed allegiances: to the Romans, to the Britons, to their gods… or not. It was quite difficult to say what Merlin really thought about any of it. All that could be said was that he was obviously, deeply attached to his pupil and prodigy, Arthur.

The hours weighed heavy again. Sarah sat on of Arthur’s benches inside the tent and wondered if she should go for another walk. She looked in the leather bag that Arthur had given her to hide her modern possessions. To her delight, she discovered that Peter had put the two books he had brought about ancient Rome in with her own things.

Happily she settled herself among some cushions and read for the rest of the afternoon. All was peaceful, save for the Sergeants or Centurions, or whoever they were, shouting at their men on parade. The warm summer breeze moved the skin walls of the tent and through the opening Sarah could see the brilliant blue of the summer sky in late Roman Gaul.

Peter had never ridden on a horse that went so fast in his whole life. He had thought that the Elves could go quickly but this… this was sheer madness. Gormant pushed his cavalry just about as far as man and beast could go, stopping once only to change horses at one of the old Roman Mail Stations that was still kept up by the locals.

“If this horse was in the National, or any other race at home, we should have won it by now,” thought Peter, “Ooh! Oh! I think I might be going to be sick. I do wish that I hadn’t had all those hard boiled eggs for lunch.”

Aloud, he said to Anir:

“When do we get to Langres?”

“In the dark I hope!” said Anir, “Gormant will lead us as near to Langres as is possible. Then, the few of us who are scouts will go into the town, by one means or another. Once in there we shall be on our own. They will not be able to help us or rescue us if we get into trouble.”

“Whoops,” said Peter, “I think now that perhaps I should have stayed behind with Sarah.”

“It is too late to go back Peter and anyway, you and I are not going to get into trouble. You have the Ring of Concealment, do you not?”

“Yes, of course I do Anir.”

“Good. Keep it safe Peter. It is our passport in and out of Lucius’ headquarters.”

Anir urged his horse on again, even faster than before. Ahead rode Gormant and the elite troops that had been specially picked to go on this special mission. Peter thought of all the spy movies that he had seen on television. This was nothing like a film. It was much more uncomfortable.

“Ooooh!” he cried, as the whole troop galloped downhill yet again. “Aaaagh! this isn’t the way I imagined travel abroad. Oh! Oh! Oh!”

And thus Peter complained all the way, until twilight crept across the sky and Gormant slowed the troops to a walk.

“We are getting close to our destination. Lucius Iberius will have guards posted everywhere. I would if I were he. We will walk from here on,” Gormant said, dismounting.

All did the same. Gormant continued his instructions:

“When we arrive at the thicket to the right of the town’s fortifications, you will all dismount. Those who are to go into the town will go on and find their way in. The rest of us will remain in the thicket. We will wait for the spies to return, but I warn you; as we told you when we made our plans, we ride at dawn. Anyone not here by dawn will have to make his own way back to Arthur’s camp. That means no protection on the way. Do I make myself quite clear?”

“Aye, Lord Gormant,” answered they all.

Then silence fell. The men and horses almost tiptoed into the thicket. Gormant tied his horse to a tree and gave it some food. A half dozen men grouped themselves together before Gormant. These were the spies. Anir and Peter went to join them.

“You know what to do?”

“Aye, Lord Gormant.”

“The best entrance to Langres is by that culvert over there, to the left of the main gates. There is cover almost right up to the gates. Thank goodness Lucius has not had the undergrowth cleared from there. That means he must have a great deal on his mind. I would never leave something like that culvert so well hidden.

There seem to be several guards on the gate, so be extra careful. With luck, darkness and the bushes will hide you. Good luck when you get inside. Find out all you can. Don’t get into any scraps. We don’t want heroes tonight, we want information! Again, I say to you, BE CAREFUL, and Good Luck!”

The men turned their faces toward the town and Anir and Peter followed. When they all came within a certain distance of the town’s walls, the men from Arthur’s army got on their bellies and crawled along amongst grasses and under bushes, as quiet as hares.

Peter was just about to do the same when Anir took him by the hand, his left hand, the hand that wore the Ring. Very gently, he turned the jewel into Peter’s palm and closed his fingers over it. Peter knew that now he must be invisible. Then, to his great surprise, Anir held on to his hand. With a shock, Peter saw Anir disappear also.

“We will go through the main gate,” he said, whispering into Peter’s ear, “you will be quite safe but you must trust me, and we shall then both put our trust in The Power of All Powers. Come on!”

Then, as silently as Elves, they crept forward towards the town.