“Hallelujah!” Bericus said with a wicked smile. I later learned that “Hallelujah!” had been the battle cry that Saint Germanus taught Vortigera’s troops. Many felt that it had helped Vortigern succeed against the Picts.
“If ‘Hallelujah’ and the big horses help us drive the Saxons back into the sea, I will shout it at the top of my lungs,” Lord Artos said, and all about the fire added, “Amen!”
I said nothing then, mindful that Lord Artos and his Companions wore the crosses of the Christian ethic and spoke of God, rather than gods; and of this I was glad. My uncle and his crew were pagan in their superstitions and I had never had a chance to hear mass in my uncle’s employ. At that, I was exceedingly grateful my uncle was not my blood kin, but my mother’s younger sister’s husband.
My mother had looked down on that marriage as beneath what her sister could have achieved. Only now did I realize that my mother had done very well indeed to have attracted the substantial man my Christian father had been. He had adored her and given her everything she desired. For the first time, I thought how bitter she must be about losing the lovely villa that had been our home, she herself driven off with my two sisters after his death, each carrying naught but shawl-wrapped bundles of personal belongings that would have brought my father’s creditors little in their selling.
THE NEXT DAY we traversed the first of the rocky gorges on our way to Septimania. Keeping Spa-dix far from the edges of those sheer-sided drops, I prayed silently but with great vigor and enthusiasm. We lost one pack mule over the side; but while Teg-idus mourned the loss of its burden, by the time we had crossed the last of the mountainous barriers to our destination, he was relieved that it had been the only casualty.
As we came down from those mountains, we could see the vast valley of Narbo Martius spread out, with the huge temporary town of the horse fair making brilliant-colored splotches with its tents-some even made of carpets from Arabia. We were two days early and used that time to settle in, camping apart from but near enough to Tegidus’s site to continue the protection agreed upon.
I was sent with Bericus and Bwlch to find provisions from the stalls and tents of local vendors. A barbarous version of Latin was the main language, but I also heard, and stored, the camp jargon with which Latin was basely mixed. Some words and phrases I understood only from their context, but I was quick-minded enough to figure out what was meant.
Then, with Lord Artos and the others, we toured the animals on display: horses, mules, jennies, donkeys, and even a few of the grotesque parodies of horses that are called camels. One spat a green and slimy mass at me- which required me to wash all my clothing in the river. I was careful not to come close enough to one of those beasts again. The Companions were sympathetic, and they did not laugh at my misfortune, as my uncle’s crew would have done. In fact, they took careful note not to suffer the same treatment.
But that was a small price for me to pay to see the display of horseflesh: the graceful Barbs with their dish faces and delicate ears that nearly met above their polls; the sturdy little steppe ponies; the small fine-boned animals who enlivened our afternoons with their races.
Bericus lost as much as Bwlch won in wagers on the races. Lord Artos merely enjoyed the sight.
We found the Libyans, finally, late on the second morning-fortunately, before the fair started. By then I had had a chance to become somewhat fluent in the camp jargon and could recognize the words in some of the atrociously accented Latin that was common. Indeed, by the end of the third day, having to translate all sorts of languages and bad accents, my head ached from the effort of concentrating.
Still, the Conies Britannorum had a way with him in dealing with anyone, trader or prince, that seemed to compel respect and foster truth and honesty. He spoke to many, and others sought him out. And really, he was easy to find, for he and his Companions towered over all but the burly blond Goths.