CHAPTER NINETEEN
‡
Legio Tertium Augustus
Someone was shaking her.
Ghislaine ignored the gentle shaking, going so far as to shove them away, but she heard someone call her name, softly, and her eyes flew open.
Ghislaine!
There was some light now across the land in the very early dawn as she blinked, having no idea where she was or how she got here until she pulled the skirt of the cote completely away from her head and saw Gaetan bending over her. He looked pale and worried as he gazed down at her.
“Ghislaine?” he said quietly, with concern. “Thank God you are alive. What happened? How did you end up here?”
She blinked. Rolling on to her back and wincing when her right leg pained her greatly at the movement, she stared at Gaetan as if hardly believing what she was seeing. Gaetan! Was she dreaming? Or was he actually here, in her midst? Then, everything came tumbling down on her – the fevered wound, waking up in the smelly dank cell where she’d found herself and, most of all, waking up alone. Gaetan had promised her he would not leave her behind but he had. She was running after him to catch up with him. She must have found him and not even realized it. But now, he was here.
He was smiling at her.
Whack!
A balled fist came up and caught Gaetan right in the mouth and his head snapped back as Ghislaine struggled to sit up. She was mad enough to throw another punch at him but she didn’t want to do it lying on the ground. She might even beat him to death in the process because he deserved it, in her opinion.
Her fury knew no bounds.
“That is for breaking your promise to me!” she bellowed, but there were tears on the surface. “You promised me that you would not leave me behind and you did! I had to come and find you!”
Gaetan was rocked back on his heels, a hand going to his lips and coming away with a smear of blood on them. He remained calm.
“Find me?” he repeated, confused and, frankly, rather hurt that she struck him. “What on earth are you talking about? I came to find you.”
“But you left me! You said you would not and you did! You lied!”
Gaetan was trying to figure out why she was so irate but it occurred to him that she must not have remembered much of the past day. Her fever had wreaked havoc with her mind so there was something going on with her that he did not quite understand. She was confused and making accusations that were simply untrue. He reached out to still her as she finally managed to sit up but she yanked her arm out of his grasp, sliding away from him, not wanting to be too close to him.
In fact, the anger in her expression shocked him. He didn’t like to see that where it pertained to him. “Ghislaine, I did not lie to you,” he said evenly. “Why did you leave the apothecary’s hut? What happened?”
She was furious and feeling ill. Moreover, her leg was killing her. “I do not know what you mean,” she snapped. “I know of no apothecary.”
“The man who tended your leg when you were with fever.”
Ghislaine looked at him, still feeling confusion and distressed, but now she truly had no idea what he meant. Still… she thought back to the town she had fled; she had awoken in a smelly hovel. Was that what he meant? A shaking hand flew to her head, pushing the mussed hair out of her eyes.
“The man who tended my…?” she repeated, bewildered. Then, she looked around, seeing all of Gaetan’s knights looking back at her in various stages of concern. She looked at each and every face, thinking that these did not look like men who had abandoned her. They didn’t have that look about them. Her attention returned to Gaetan as she struggled for calm. “Someone tended my leg? But you tended it. You and Aramis did.”
Gaetan glanced at Aramis, who was standing off to his right. Before he could reply, Aramis took a few steps towards Ghislaine and took a knee beside her.
“That was the first time,” Aramis said patiently. “You began running a terrible fever and we took you in to Worcester where an apothecary cleaned out your wound again. Do you not remember?”
A little more was coming clear now but Ghislaine didn’t remember any of it. It was frightening to realize that she truly had no memory of something that had happened to her. She looked at Gaetan. “Is that why my leg hurts so?” she asked.
Gaetan nodded. “It was full of poison so an apothecary cleaned it out and stitched it up again. You were sleeping after the procedure so we left to go find supper and when we returned, you were gone. Did you truly think we had abandoned you? That I had abandoned you?”
Now, the situation was making so much more sense. Ghislaine sighed heavily, beginning to feel quite foolish and dismayed. “I… I awoke in a strange place and I thought you had left me behind,” she said. “You said that you would not, but when I awoke and you were not there… I was afraid to remain. I had to find you.”
Things were becoming clear to Gaetan, too. He smiled faintly when he realized what had happened. “So you left? With your bad leg, you actually set out to find me?”
Ghislaine nodded, embarrassed. “You promised you would not leave me and I was going to find you and… you truly did not leave me behind?”
Gaetan shook his head. “Nay, little mouse. I told you I would not.”
He had. But she hadn’t believed him. But, as he’d proved to her since the beginning of their association, he was a man of honor. Norman honor. Her feelings of foolishness only increased as she noted the blood on his lip.
“I am so sorry that I struck you,” she whispered. “I… I have no excuse other than I thought you had lied to me.”
Gaetan’s smile grew. Then, he started to laugh, turning to the men behind him who were also starting to chuckle. He wiped at his lip again but there was very little blood.
“It was a good hit,” he admitted. “I supposed I deserved it if you thought I had broken my promise. But I did not, I swear it. We have been looking for you for the past several hours. Cam was following your trail but he got off task a few times when a rabbit or a fox would cross his path. But it was really Cam who helped us find you. Without him, we would still be looking for you and you would still be angry at me.”
Ghislaine smiled timidly, looking at the silly dog who was sitting a few feet away, his wagging tail thumping against the ground when her attention turned to him. She shook her head at the beast.
“He followed me from town,” she said. “I do not even know when he left me because it seemed as if he was always with me.”
“He waited for us on the bridge. Even he knew I would come for you and he waited to show me the way.”
Her smile grew, though it was still sheepish. “Then he is a good dog.”
Gaetan’s smile turned warm, his gaze only for Ghislaine. “Do you still despise him?”
Ghislaine let out an ironic snort. “I suppose I cannot now that he has saved me.”
As if on cue, Camulos stood up and made his way over to her, wagging his big tail and licking her on the chin. Ghislaine put her arms around the dog and hugged him as Gaetan stood up, glancing over at Aramis, who did the same. He noted that Aramis was watching Ghislaine with the dog, a grin on lips that very rarely saw one.
Jealousy began to creep into Gaetan’s veins but he struggled not to show it. Even though Aramis had graciously agreed to give up his pursuit of the lady, still, Gaetan didn’t quite trust him. He hated that suspicion but he simply couldn’t help it. Laboring to put that aside, he turned to Téo, who was standing off to his left.
“I will take the lady with me since we left her mare back in Worcester,” he said. “How far from Worcester do you believe we have come?”
Téo glanced at the land around them. “At least five or six miles,” he said. Then, he turned to Wellesbourne, who was standing several feet behind him. “Do you know where we are?”
Wellesbourne heard the question and looked about the landscape, trying to get his bearings.
“I think so,” he said. “The lady would know better than I would, but I believe there is a road to the north that will take us to Kidderminster.”
Still hugging the dog, Ghislaine heard him. She let the beast go, struggling to her feet as both Gaetan and Aramis rushed forward to help her. With Gaetan on one arm and Aramis on the other, they pulled her to her feet. When she staggered because of the pain in her leg, Gaetan swooped down and picked her up, effectively taking her away from Aramis.
But Ghislaine was unaware of the competition between them. She was in Gaetan’s enormous arms and nothing felt more right or more natural. She looped an arm behind his neck to steady herself, but it was such a delicious position to be in that she nearly forgot about Wellesbourne’s assessment of their location. She would have much rather lost herself in Gaetan’s eyes and would have, too, had she not caught sight of Wellesbourne in her periphery. She was compelled to give the man an answer or risk looking like a besotted fool.
In Gaetan’s arms, all was right in the world again.
“I truly am not even sure where we are,” she said. “When I left Worcester, I crossed the river and just kept walking. You say we are five or six miles to the east?”
Wellesbourne and Gaetan were nodding. Ghislaine began to look at her surroundings. “I wonder if we are near the disputed lands,” she said pensively. When Gaetan looked at her curiously, she explained. “There are lands in this area that are claimed by a tribe that calls themselves the Tertium. My brother, Edwin, has had some contact with them but they are very warlike and they keep to themselves. I have not known anyone who has had any contact with them other than in battle. It is possible we have entered their lands but I cannot be sure.”
Gaetan was listening with interest. “Tertium,” he repeated. Tertium meant “third” in Latin. “Bartholomew, have you ever heard of the Tertium?”
Wellesbourne nodded. “I seem to recall my father speaking of them,” he said. “The lady is right; they are warlike.”
“Tertium is a Latin word. Why would they call themselves that?”
Wellesbourne shook his head. “The Romans were all around here hundreds of years ago,” he said. “Mayhap it was a name given to them by the Romans. Or it could even be a name given to them by the church; who knows? I’ve not heard why.”
It didn’t really matter but Gaetan found it curious nonetheless. However, the fact that they were warlike concerned him. “If we are near their lands, mayhap we had better leave quickly,” he said. Then, he looked to Ghislaine. “You mentioned after we left Evesham that we were a day’s ride from Tenebris.”
Ghislaine nodded. “It is to the north. If we continue north on this road, surely it will lead to something I will recognize, for I do not recognize anything around us at the moment.”
Gaetan looked at her, his face very close to hers as he held her. The mere sight of that dirty porcelain-beauty face was enough to set his heart aflutter. He was more relieved than he could express that they’d found her but he wouldn’t dream of verbalizing that relief. At the moment, he was focused on getting them out of an area that was evidently either on or near disputed lands.
But his concern came too late. As he and his men turned and headed through the trees to the rest of the horses that were grazing on the side of the road, a piercing, singing sound suddenly burst overhead.
Gaetan knew that sound all too well and so did his men. It was the sound of a flying projectile, an arrow, and his warrior training kicked in. He fell to his knees, dumping Ghislaine onto the ground, and covered her with his body as two arrows hit the ground within very close vicinity. Several more sang overhead and all of the knights went to the ground, trying to protect themselves.
But it was a short flurry. When the arrows stopped flying, Gaetan leapt to his feet and pulled Ghislaine up with him, fully intending to make it to his broadsword, which was sheathed on his saddle. Around him, he could see his men unsheathing swords and daggers that were on their bodies, preparing for a fight, as the trees suddenly came alive with people.
But it wasn’t an organized army; dirty savages began to advance on them in groups, bows with arrows reloaded, pointing directly at them. Gaetan was handicapped with an injured woman to protect and he pushed her to the ground even as he stood up. He didn’t want her making herself a target for any further arrows that might come flying at them.
Quickly, Gaetan assessed the situation; arrows seemed to be their weapon of choice because he didn’t see any swords. But every man had a bow and arrow, and each knight under his command had at least five or six of them aimed straight at him. If those arrows let loose, it would take them all down. There would be no way to fight it.
Very quickly, he could see that they were in an extremely dire situation.
Gaetan had been a commander for many years and, as Normandy’s Warwolfe, it was recognized that he was the very best. Being a great commander meant that he knew when the odds were insurmountable and resistance was futile. This, unfortunately, was one of those times. They were cornered, all of them, and there was nothing they could do about it.
All they could do was surrender and pray the enemy would show mercy.
Jaw ticking with the sickening realization, he slowly lifted his hands to show that he had no weapons.
“Drop the swords,” he told his men, steadily. “Put them away unless you want to die in a hail of arrows.”
Du Reims, de Lara, de Winter, and de Reyne obeyed immediately. De Russe, de Moray, St. Hèver, and Wellesbourne were slower to respond. They were the battle beasts, men who refused to surrender even when it was the wise thing to do. Gaetan could see that they refused to relinquish and he barked at them.
“Drop your weapons!” he snapped.
Aramis dropped his, reluctantly, but the other three refused. The tension was growing as Gaetan had to give them the command yet again.
“I will not tell you again,” he growled. “If I make it over to you, I’ll break your bloody arms. The lady is without protection and every moment you refuse to lower your weapons jeopardizes her life. Now, drop your swords!”
After a moment’s hesitation, the remaining three surrendered, but they were exceedingly unhappy about it. Once the weapons were all down, there was a sense of relief on Gaetan’s part but also a sense of apprehension. Now, they would discover just how much mercy their attackers were willing to give.
Seated at Gaetan’s feet, Ghislaine was looking at the men coming out of the trees with great trepidation. Having never had any contact with the Tertium, she didn’t know if this was that tribe, but she suspected they might be. She watched warily as one man pushed through the others; he was dressed in what looked like a leather vest and he wore no trousers, but what looked like a short skirt made of leather strips. He was fair-haired and older, with some gray in his cropped hair. He had no bow and, in fact, looked as if he wasn’t carrying any weapon at all. As a horde of his men kept the nine knights, one priest, and one lady at bay, he walked right up to Téo.
There didn’t seem to be any hostility in his expression, merely curiosity. He was evidently quite interested in the mail and other things Téo was wearing. Téo stood stock-still as the man touched the mail, ran a finger over it, and even sniffed it. Then his gaze moved down to the broadsword at Téo’s feet. Téo had dropped it as ordered, but the man lifted it from the ground, holding it up, inspecting it from one end to the other. He seemed to like the weapon a great deal. As he was inspecting the hilt, Camulos wandered over to the man, wagging his tail.
The man eyed the very big dog, lowering the weapon at it as if to kill him. In a panic, Ghislaine shouted.
“You will not harm that dog!” she cried, struggling to her feet and wincing with her painful leg. “Cam! Come here!”
Tail still wagging, the dog rushed over to her and she grabbed it, holding it fearfully as the man looked at her as if only just noticing her. With the sword still in hand, he followed the path of the dog straight to Ghislaine.
Gaetan was still standing next to her and his body tensed as the man was lured to Ghislaine. He didn’t want to end up with ten arrows stuck in his body, but he didn’t like the interest the man was showing in Ghislaine. His protective instincts took over; he had no idea what the man’s intentions were but he knew what his intentions were. They were in a horribly precarious position but Gaetan had to take the chance – if the man got close enough, he was going to grab him. Surely the native men would lower their weapons if their leader was in danger.
At least, Gaetan hoped so. Either that, or they were all going to end up with a dozen arrows in them, like human pin cushions. He hoped it didn’t come to that.
He bided his time.
The man came right up on Ghislaine as she stood there holding the dog. He looked her up and down, clearly appreciating what he saw. Gaetan watched the situation, his heart pounding in his ears, waiting for his moment to strike.
It wasn’t long in coming.
When the man reached out to touch Ghislaine’s dark hair, Gaetan reached out and snatched the man by the arm, yanking him against him and throwing a massive arm across his throat. By his actions and the position of his arm, his intentions were obvious and the man grabbed hold of Gaetan’s arm, bracing himself so he wouldn’t be strangled. But Gaetan barred his teeth at the men with the bows, showing in action and in body language that he was ready to kill.
In an instant, the tables had turned and the hunted now became the hunter.
Gaetan was brilliant that way.
“To me,” he barked to his men. “Back away and get to your horses. Go!”
In his grip, the man in the leather skirt called to his men. “Vestra arma summittere!”
Lower your weapons!
Gaetan understood the words; it was Latin, but strangely and heavily accented. He’d never heard anything like it. He spoke to the man whose neck he was about to crush.
“Non intellegis me sermonibus?” Do you understand my words?
The man in his grip nodded his head, but hesitantly, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. As Gaetan’s knights began backing away, seeing that they now had the opportunity to flee, Gaetan continued to hold the tribal leader by the neck. But it wasn’t purely out of rage; he found that he was somewhat curious about this tribe, a seemingly very rustic group of people here in the wilds of Mercia. He was also quite curious with the man’s dress. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before.
As he’d once told Ghislaine, it was always wise to know the language of the enemy. It was even wiser to know their ways. If Gaetan was going to conquer this land, then he wanted to know about it.
“Who are you?” he asked in Latin. “Who are your people?”
The man didn’t say anything for a moment, perhaps trying to decipher Gaetan’s pure Latin against the garbled tongue he spoke.
“Legio Tertium,” he said. “This is our land.”
Gaetan’s brow furrowed. “Legio Tertium?” he repeated, more to himself. Then, he translated. “Third Legion?”
The man in his grip nodded. “You are on our lands. You do not belong here.”
Gaetan could see that Téo and de Lara were standing nearby, listening. He wasn’t sure who else was listening other than Ghislaine, who was standing in front of him, looking rather pale and pained. He assumed it was because they’d all had a good fright.
“We came here by accident,” Gaetan said. “We came to find the lady, but mean you no harm. We were just leaving when your men attacked.”
The man in his grip was looking at Gaetan’s men suspiciously. “You brought your weapons.”
“Of course we did. Why wouldn’t we?”
“You have come to kill us!”
Gaetan shook his head. “What I do now, I do in defense of my men and of the lady,” he said. “I would not have taken you hostage but you gave me no choice. You moved against us first.”
The man was clearly flustered. “If you promise no harm will come to us, then let me go and I shall let you leave in peace.”
Gaetan didn’t know the man and he surely didn’t trust him. “You will forgive me for not agreeing to that term,” he said. “I have no guarantee that you will not kill us.”
The man was incensed. “I could have killed you from the trees but I did not,” he said. “That should show you my truthfulness.”
He had a point but Gaetan was still reluctant. “I believe you,” he said. “But you will forgive me for being cautious. Your men are less likely to shoot me down while you are in my grasp.”
Standing a few feet in front of him, Ghislaine understood what was being said for the most part, but not all of it. The man had a very strange accent and his Latin wasn’t conventional. She looked at Gaetan.
“I wonder if he speaks my language?” she asked.
The man immediately looked at her. “I do,” he said. “My people know the language of trading. It is how we purchase goods with the Saxonice. They are too lazy to know our language, so we were forced to learn theirs.”
Surprised, Ghislaine took another look at him. He wasn’t unhandsome but he was rather short, at least compared to Gaetan and his men. Still, he was a strong man and seemingly very agile. She studied his queer manner of dress.
“Why did you shoot your arrows at us?” she asked. “Why did you not simply come out and speak to us? We meant you no harm.”
The man eyed her. “When armed men enter our lands, we assume they are a threat,” he said. “We were on a patrol when we saw these men. We must defend what is ours.”
Ghislaine pondered his words. “A patrol?”
“We must protect our borders.”
Ghislaine already knew that about them. Truth be told, she was quite curious about this reclusive tribe. “You have engaged my brother in battle before,” she said. “This is Mercia, his territory, yet you do not swear fealty to him.”
The man’s brow furrowed. “Who is your brother?”
“Edwin of Mercia.”
That brought a reaction. “Nigrum Aeduini,” he muttered with disgust. “Black Edwin is your brother?”
Ghislaine nodded. “I am Ghislaine of Mercia.”
“Then you are The Beautiful Maid.”
Ghislaine looked a bit uncomfortable with her evident notoriety. She glanced at Gaetan, nervously, before replying. “Why would you say that?”
“Because Edwin has two sisters. You are not Edith, who is married to Harold Godwinson.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I saw her once, from afar.”
“You have battled Harold before.”
The man nodded with perhaps a twinkle in his eye. “I have battled many Saxons before.”
That was the truth. Since there was no denying her identity, Ghislaine eyed the man. “Now that you know who I am, what is your name?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Antillius Decimus Shericus,” he said. “These are my people and this is my land. It has been since the time of old, when the legions conquered this land.”
“Are you their leader?”
Antillius nodded. “I am, as was my father before me, and his father before him,” he said. Still addressing her, his gaze moved sideways to see the other knights standing around. “Who are these men you have brought with you, Lady Ghislaine?”
Ghislaine wasn’t sure she should tell him. She looked to Gaetan, who was gazing back at her quite emotionlessly. He wasn’t giving her any hint of what he wanted her to say. Her nervousness seemed to grow and she could feel her hands shaking. In fact, everything was shaking and she was feeling the need to sit down again because the world was starting to rock.
Camulos decided to pick that moment to move away from her. He had been standing in front of her as she held on to him, but when he moved away, everyone could see the massive bloodstain on her right leg, seeping through the bandages, the torn trousers, and her cote. It was even smeared on the dog. Ghislaine could see Gaetan’s dismayed expression as he looked at her leg and she quickly looked at it, too, seeing what everyone else was seeing. Blood was everywhere. With a gasp, she suddenly toppled onto her arse.
Everyone went running.
Gaetan dropped his arm from Antillius’ neck and rushed to her about the time Aramis and Téo and Lance de Reyne made it to her side. They were the closest. Blood was running everywhere and Gaetan ripped at her dirty cote, tearing a strip of material from the hem to wrap around her thigh to stem the blood.
“Bandages!” he bellowed to anyone who would listen. “Bring me bandages!”
Arrows, standoffs, and territorial tribes seemed to be forgotten as Ghislaine’s bloodied leg took all of the focus. Even Antillius, now quite free, went to stand over Gaetan’s shoulder as he and his men worked furiously to stop the bleeding.
“What has happened?” Antillius asked, genuinely concerned. “Why is she bleeding so? Did our arrows strike her?”
Gaetan was tying a tourniquet around Ghislaine’s thigh to slow the flow of blood. “Nay,” he said, grunting as he pulled it tight. “She was struck in a battle a few days ago and the wound became filled with poison. An apothecary cleaned out the poison, but that was only yesterday. The wound has not healed and the lady must have torn the stitches.”
It was clear she was bleeding heavily. Without proper care, she might not survive. Antillius tapped Gaetan on the shoulder.
“Bring her,” he said. “Quickly. There is no time to waste. I have a physician who will tend her.”
Gaetan was clearly hesitant. “If we can stop the bleeding….”
Antillius cut him off. “Will you take such a chance?” he asked, urgency in his tone. “Come with me if you want her to live. Hurry.”
Gaetan looked at the men around him; Aramis, Lance, Téo, and even Jathan had joined them. They had failed her once trying to heal the wound and because of that, Gaetan was fearful to try again. He didn’t want her life in his hands when he wasn’t a healer. He knew battlefield medicine, but so did every other knight. Yet, it wasn’t something he did on a regular basis because he employed several physics for his men. He genuinely felt as if he had failed her the first time. Now, he was torn.
“Taking her back to Worcester will take an hour or two, at least,” Aramis said, cutting into his thoughts. “She is bleeding heavily, Gaetan. She has torn her stitches wide open.”
Gaetan found himself looking at the wound as Aramis peeled away the bloodied bandages. It was messy to say the least.
“There are those hunting us at Worcester,” Lance put in. “They could capture us when we enter the city limits. We may not even have the chance to return her to the apothecary.”
That was a very real possibility. Gaetan didn’t want to return to Worcester only to be captured by the mob and separated from Ghislaine. Feeling cornered and as if he had very little choice, he turned to Antillius.
“How far is your physician?” he asked.
Antillius pointed towards the east. “Not far,” he assured him. “Bandage the leg as tightly as you can and bring her. I will send my men ahead to tell our physician to be ready.”
Gaetan nodded reluctantly. Then, his attention shifted to Ghislaine, who was now lying flat on her back and staring up at the sky above. She was so very pale. Leaning over her, he put an enormous palm on her forehead.
“We must take you to someone who can repair your stitches, Mousie,” he said softly. “All of this activity has torn them. That is why you are bleeding.”
Ghislaine’s gaze turned to him and Gaetan was struck, once again, by the faith in her eyes. She trusted him, no matter what the circumstances; she didn’t even have to put it into words. He knew simply by looking at her.
“I am sorry to have caused so much trouble,” she said softly.
He smiled at her, lifting a hand to kiss it gently. “I was a fool to have ever left you at the apothecary. It is my fault.”
This time, Ghislaine was well aware of the kiss on her hand. It was the most beautiful, tender expression she had ever experienced and she reached up, putting a hand on his stubbled cheek. It was a touch she would remember for the rest of her life.
“I should have known you would have kept your word,” she murmured, her fingers caressing his skin. “Forgive me, Norman.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “It is Gaetan.”
“You are a Norman.”
He wasn’t going to argue with her about it. Grinning, Gaetan put a big hand over her hand as she fondled his cheek, feeling the touch more deeply than he’d ever felt a woman’s touch. There was something about it that went clear to his soul. Then he kissed her palm, warmth reflecting in his eyes as he looked at her.
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said, kissing her palm again before lowering her hand. Then, he returned his attention to Aramis and Lance, who had finished tying off a series of very tight bandages against her bloody thigh. “Can I move her now?”
Aramis, who hadn’t missed the tender scene, was feeling a great deal of disappointment and he struggled to maintain an even manner.
“Aye,” he said, unable to look at either Gaetan or Ghislaine. “The bandages should hold until we can reach their physician.”
With that, Gaetan bent over and scooped Ghislaine up against him, moving for his horse as Téo and Lance ran alongside him. Aramis couldn’t even bring himself to do it. As he watched Gaetan carry Ghislaine away, he felt as if his heart had just been ripped out. Oblivious to Aramis’ thoughts, Gaetan kept walking.
“I will follow you,” he said to Antillius as he moved passed the man. “Lead the way.”
Antillius nodded, watching them head to their horses before he snapped orders to his own men, who rushed back into the trees. Very shortly, those same men appeared on horseback, leading another horse for Antillius, and when the knights came off the road and headed back into the trees where the Tertium were waiting, the entire group tore off towards the west, through a vast meadow and disappearing into a heavy forest in the distance.
They were in Tertium lands now, a vast and wide place as ancient as the world itself.