“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.”