It would be hard on Hans; but he had chosen to be a warrior and a warrior must learn to bear hardships.
Edmund came up to me at last. He said:
“Well, you did it.” There was unwilling admiration in his voice. “But I still think you were unwise.”
“I know that.” I grinned. “It is a cold morning. Come to the gymnasium and we will wrestle a little warmth into ourselves.”
• • •
Winter closed in early, with a blizzard that blew for four days and left snow drifting six feet deep in the High Street. There was a thaw after that, but a few weeks later the snow returned and this time stayed.
Life was more confined but had its pleasures. For the boys there was skating on the river by the grazing meadows, the snowball fights that raged right across the city and did not always respect the dignity of older people, toboggan races on hard-packed frozen snow down the High Street. For the rest there were the entertainments of jugglers and minstrels, dancing and feasting and talk. Winchester was prosperous, her silos and granaries full, her farms stocked with fat cattle. We were well prepared for the hard months.
But there was work as well as pleasure. Rudi and his dwarfs labored in the Forge. With Greene I made a close inspection of swords and armor and rejected any that was worn or faulty. And I had the Captains keep their troops long hours at drill. I increased their rations of meat and ale to make up for this. There was some grumbling but they went at it willingly enough for the most part.
My life was full, with the army and the court. At times, though, I got away on my own. I walked one day on the walls, with no one near me. The sky was largely clear for once, sharp blue with white clouds and that darker one that always rested on the northern horizon, where the Burning Lands smoked and smoldered. I thought of the journey we had made through the pass that ran across them, and I thought of King Cymru of the Wilsh, and his daughter Blodwen.
I was not far from the North Gate. Snow had fallen in the night and only my footsteps had disturbed it here. I turned and saw a figure farther along the wall, coming my way. There were steps near and I thought of going down into the city to avoid him. Then I saw it was a black-cloaked Acolyte, and recognized Martin.
I greeted him as he came up, and said:
“What brings you here?”
“The same as you, sire, probably: an urge for solitude.”
I took his arm. “No ‘sire,’ Martin. We are still friends, I hope.”
He smiled, and his face lost the tense worried look that it often bore.
“I hope so, too, Luke!”
I had seen little of him since becoming Prince. As boys he and Edmund and I had been companions, but life had taken us along different paths. Edmund was a warrior and one of my Captains, so our ways lay much together. But Martin had become an Acolyte to the Seer. This would anyway have limited our companionship; my wariness of being associated with the Seer and the Seance House only made it more certain.
Now as of old we walked and talked together, and I realized how much I had missed him.
We looked over the snow-covered roofs of the city. In the distance I saw the Seance Hall, and the Ruins beyond it. The Ruins were the great mound of stone beneath which lay the small underground room in which we three had met as boys, to talk and plan in secret. I pointed to it, and said:
“Did you know the Christians seek our old playground?”
“For what?”
“Peter gave them gold for a new church when he used their secret tunnel to get back into the city and surprise the Romsey men who had captured it. They have not built it yet. They ask for that land to put it on. They say there was a great Christian church there in ancient days.”
“What did you say to them?”
“I told the priest I would think about it.”
“Will you say yes?”
“I think I will. The first debt was paid, but there was a death after that. Ann, my brother’s wife, was a Christian. It would please her Spirit. And the ground is of small value. No one else will build there, out of superstition.”
Martin shrugged. “They are mad, but they do not do much harm.”
“There is more to it than building. They are bringing their Bishop from Oxford.”
Each set of Christians has its priest as a leader, but there was only one Bishop in the civilized lands, who ruled them all. I said:
“It is a compliment, I suppose. They recognize the supremacy of our city. It is strange, though, that they should bring him to the seat of power and riches, when they claim to despise such things.”
“They would probably say power and riches are good when they are means to a good end: to guide men’s minds to what they think is truth.”
“You are generous,” I said. “It is a vastly different truth from the one you seek, after all. They have no interest in Science. What they call truth is a god who walked as a man, who died an ugly death, and raised himself from the dead afterward.”
His smile returned. “They will not win over any but madmen like themselves with such stories.”
“And polymufs,” I said, “whom they flatter by letting them join with them as equals.”
Martin nodded. “A shocking thing, that. As shocking as turning a dwarf into a warrior.”
He smiled again and I was glad to see it. I punched at him, as we had done when we were boys.
“That is by the Prince’s will,” I said. “Remember it, Acolyte!”
• • •
Winter ended at last and it was spring again. There was the Contest of the Young Captains, in which I had won the jeweled sword and started on the path which led to my becoming Prince. This year it was very one-sided. Isak, the youngest son of Harding, was the winner, gaining his victory without losing a man.
Spring turned to summer and I took the army out on its campaign. We rode south this time, down the valley of the Itchen. There was a score that needed settling with James of Romsey, whose father, Fat Jeremy, had treacherously killed mine.
I expected wiles rather than courage from him and was not disappointed. He brought his army out of the city on our approach but on the far side of the river which runs through it. From there he fenced with us, defying us to cross and ready to strike if we did so.
This continued for two days of warm cloudy weather. Then at the close of the second day the clouds rolled away. And that night, the air being calm and still, mist rose from the river and spread out over the fields in which we were encamped.
In the morning the mist remained, thick and white, blanketing and disguising everything. A brightness in the east marked the position of the sun, but there was no sign of it breaking through. The hours wore by slowly and we could do nothing else but hold our ground. Not until the afternoon did the objects round us start to take shape, as the brightness overhead focused into the silver and then golden disk of the sun. The mist lifted, and as it did the Romsey army launched itself on us.
James, though not much older than myself, was known for his cunning, and the attack had been well planned. He had taken advantage of being on familiar territory. He had brought his army quietly across the river by a ford north of our position, and then as quietly led them down to a point within striking distance. So he could attack with the lifting of the mist and take us by surprise.
This is what happened, and for a time our men were confused and fell back. But they had confidence in themselves from past campaigns and the winter’s drilling had toughened and instilled discipline in them. The Captains rallied them and they fought savagely.
It was a battle fought on foot. They had left their horses on the other side of the river and our own, of course, were still tethered. It did not last very long. James had used cunning in the preparation and no doubt would have done well chasing a beaten rabble, but he had little stomach for an enemy that took his charge and fought back. He ran, and his men, left leaderless, ran also. The mist was rising all this time. They ran north along the river bank and were in full view. We untethered our horses and mounted and rode them down. We had them at our mercy and they surrendered. They could do little else.