by Isaac Asimov
Steve slipped his shield on his’ left arm and carefully stuck a sword through the belt of his tunic. Then he mounted the second horse, which pranced and shook. He kept control of his mount, however. The armorer handed him his spear.
“He’s a good horse,” said the boy. “But he spent all winter in pasture. He’s only three and he hasn’t had a rider since last fall.”
“I like him,” said Steve. “Hunter, the troop is riding out. We’d better go.”
“Yes.” Hunter reached down to take his spear from the armorer. “Thank you, friends.”
Steve and Hunter rode back across the slope and followed the rear of the troop out the main gate at the base of the tor. The morning air was still cool, but the clouds overhead had begun to scatter. Steve grinned with excitement, wondering what Lucius would have the troop do.
They did not ride far. In the open, rolling country outside Cadbury, Lucius ordered the troop to split into squads, ordering each to fallout and drill separately. Because the squads formed immediately, Steve saw that they had already been assigned.
Hunter and Steve rode up to Lucius, who had reined up on the crest of a hill to observe the troop.
“We are ready, friend,” Hunter said heartily. “Where should we go?”
“Eh? Oh, yes.” Lucius pointed to a nearby squad. “These are squads of ten, but that one is short. Your squad leader, Cynric, will drill you.”
Steve followed Hunter to the squad. A short, stocky man had been shouting orders to the group. Just as Steve and Hunter reached them, Cynric raised his spear and turned his horse. He led the squad away in a canter.
Steve kicked his own mount and followed. His young horse eagerly took off. Hunter’s mount also moved into a canter, more reluctantly. Steve left him behind as the squad rode across the open grassland.
Soon Cynric took the squad into a full gallop. Then, without warning, he pulled up sharply. Just as the squad gathered around him, he kicked his mount again and took off in another direction. Steve laughed and followed with everyone else.
This time, Cynric led the squad in a long, sweeping curve back toward their starting point. Three of the riders took the curve too fast and lost it, angling wide; two others tried to take it too sharply and lost speed. Steve watched Cynric’s movements carefully and followed him without trouble, with two other riders. Hunter remained behind him.
Cynric stopped again on the slope near Lucius. Steve reined up behind him, and Hunter joined him a moment later. They waited for the stragglers to canter back to them.
Steve, getting a good look at the others’ faces for the first time, saw that most of them were teenagers.
He supposed they had either come from villages or shepherd families. They would know how to ride casually, but not on military maneuvers.
Cynric studied Steve and Hunter with pale blue eyes. “Who are you, anyway?” His voice was gruff.
“I am Hunter. This is my friend Steve.”
“And Lucius sent you to me.”
“Yes,” said Hunter.
“Well … I don’t get a lot of grown men in this troop. You two ride better than most of these youngsters.
Can you fight?”
“We have never fought on horseback,” said Hunter.
“I’m not surprised;” Cynric said sourly. He threw his spear into the ground and raised his voice to the entire squad. “Form a line and follow me. You will ride at full gallop past this spot and throw your spears into the ground next to mine — if you can.”
Jane rode in the back of Emrys’s cart again that morning. As before, Ishihara sat in the front and firewood filled the rest of the bed; Wayne rode on the seat with Emrys. However, this time they followed almost half of Emrys’s flock of sheep. One of his dogs herded the sheep forward along the road toward Cadbury Tor.
When Jane saw the riders leaving the main gate of Cadbury Tor, she looked up. Even at a considerable distance, she was sure that the large rider trailing the rear of the troop had to be Hunter. The fact that a man Steve’s size rode just ahead of him seemed to clinch it.
Jane glanced up at Wayne and Ishihara. Wayne yawned and watched the sheep. Ishihara was rearranging the firewood slightly.
“Ishihara,” said Jane. She did not know what she was going to say, but she wanted to distract him from seeing Hunter and Steve. Wayne was not as likely to recognize them, even if he looked in their direction.
“Yes?”
“Uh, how safe are we?” A concern about the First Law would command a robot’s attention the most.
“What do you mean?” Ishihara looked at her.
“Well … we’re very vulnerable, don’t you think?” Jane frantically tried to think of a specific worry she could express to him.
“To what?”
“To the unknown. I mean, we hardly know what’s going on around us, do we?”
“Thanks to Emrys and Ygerna, we have food, clothing, and shelter. Neither they nor anyone in the village seem to have any pressing fears.”
“It’s not as civilized as China was.” Jane glanced at the troop again. They had ridden away from the tor, but Hunter remained easily recognizable at the rear.
“We are much safer here than in Roman Germany,” said Ishihara.
“Yeah … that’s true, I guess. But maybe a war will start here, too.”
“Perhaps. I expect to have some warning, however. We all knew that a battle would begin outside Moscow in 1941, but we survived.”
“It’s a terrible risk under the First Law, isn’t it?” Jane stretched, and gazed casually around in several directions to camouflage another look toward the troop. Now the column of riders had divided into small groups. For a moment, she could not find Hunter. Then she saw that his group had begun to ride away, fast. She relaxed a little.
“The searches for MC 3 and MC 4 ended in much greater danger than we face here so far,” said Ishihara. “I assure you again that I will take you and Wayne away from danger if necessary.” He patted the spot on his torso in which he had placed the belt unit.
“I know,” Jane said quietly. She looked at Wayne. He did not seem to have noticed Hunter and Steve.
Jane wondered if the troop would ride back into the tor while Emrys was still selling sheep and firewood there. Ifso, she might have a chance to get Hunter’s attention. She would have to hope that Wayne and Ishihara would not notice Hunter first.
8
STEVE MOVED INTO the line as the squad prepared to throw spears. Ahead of him, the other riders waited for Cynric to wave his arm in a sharp downward slash. Then the first rider kicked his mount, rode at full gallop about fifty meters, and threw his spear into the ground next to Cynric’s.
When Steve’s: turn came, he hefted his spear in his right hand and looked at Cynric. At the signal, he took off and eyed his target. Several other spears had stuck in the ground near it; others had fallen flat.
Steve threw his without slowing his mount.
His spear flew forward but instead of sticking in the ground, it landed flat on the grass. He reined in near the other riders and turned. Hunter came next.
At the signal, Hunter rode forward. As he neared the target, he threw his spear. It angled through the air and stabbed into the ground next to Cynric’s.
Around them, scattered allover the rolling hills, the other squads conducted similar exercises.
As Hunter rode up next to Steve, Cynric nodded approval. When the squad had finished throwing their spears, they gathered around Cynric. Steve suddenly wondered if he might be cut from the troop and Hunter retained.
Cynric said nothing about it, however. “Leave your spears where they are. Form two lines facing each other, two horse lengths apart. When I signal, move against the rider across from you. I want to see you handle your swords and shields. Lay on hard, now — this is no game.”
As the riders formed the lines, Steve and Hunter moved across from each other. At Cynric’s signal, all the riders rode forward. Steve found that the real challenge to this e
xercise was holding the reins in his left hand while using the shield on his left arm to protect himself.
Hunter’s blows were light, at least by Hunter’s standards, and always landed on Steve’s shield, no matter how he moved it. Steve swung his own sword with more abandon, secure in the knowledge that Hunter could easily block each stroke with his own shield. On each side of them, the other squad members did the same.
Cynric rode slowly behind each line, circling the squad. He shouted instructions and encouragement at times. After a while, he ordered them to halt.
Steve lowered his sword and shield and grinned at Hunter with relief.
“Take up your spears again,” Cynric called out. Then, as the riders moved out of their line, he turned to Hunter. “You sit a horse well for a man your size.”
“Thank you for the kind words.” Hunter nodded acknowledgment. “Tell me something. I always heard that the Saxons have no horses. In Linnuis, I never saw a mounted Saxon. Why do you have us perform this exercise against another man on horseback?”
“A man who fights for Artorius must be at home on his mount,” Cynric said sternly. “Besides, occasionally a Saxon patrol will take a horse or two. But you are right. In the main, a battle against the Saxons means a small British cavalry against a much larger army of Saxon foot.”
Steve had to dismount to pick up his spear. While he was on the ground he handed a couple of the other spears up to other squad members. Then, clumsily cradling his own in the crook of his left arm, he managed to mount again.
Hunter plucked his own spear from its vertical position in the ground and rode up next to Steve.
“Harriet radioed me a moment ago,” Hunter said quietly. “She is well, but has seen no sign of MC 6.”
“Is she just going to walk up and down the streets of the village all day?”
“Perhaps not. She has seen some from the citadel come out to shop. Since Artorius probably lives there, she hopes to speak to them.”
“Hey, maybe she can get inside somehow.”
“Follow me!” Cynric shouted suddenly, holding spear high. “Now!” He rode away abruptly, as before.
The squad, caught by surprise, took off after him.
The remainder of the morning continued the same way. Cynric ordered specific exercises with weapons, often divided by sudden orders to charge across the hills. These charges sometimes were straight, and sometimes curved; the riders had to stop and wheel around quickly, changing direction. Finally, at midday, wagons came out of the tor to bring bread, cold mutton, and water to the squads. The horses were watered and rested.
In the afternoon, the nature of the exercises changed. Now the squads worked together, maneuvering in combinations of ten, with a hundred riders each. Steve stayed close to Hunter. Finally, in late afternoon, Lucius gave the order to return to the tor.
As Steve and Hunter rode on weary mounts with the rest of the troop back to the main gate, Cynric rode up alongside them.
“You will join us in the camp,” said Cynric.
“You are in a camp?” Hunter asked. “I have not seen a camp. Where is it?”
Cynric grinned. “Behind the village, on the far slope. The green recruits are kept out of the way.”
Steve wondered what Hunter wanted to do about Harriet, but he did not ask. A blunt conversation would have to wait until they were out of the hearing of others. He looked up at the village and wondered if Jane was there somewhere.
Hunter knew that he could not call Harriet. He had no idea if she had company within the hearing of her lapel pin. If they could not find her in the streets of the village, then he would have to wait for her to call him again.
At the paddock, each rider unsaddled and brushed down his own mount. Then they were dismissed.
Hunter, however, walked back to the armorer, who had a fresh leather boiling in a big vat.
“Is that for me?” Hunter asked.
“Keep your tunic on to protect yourself from the heat,” the armorer said gruffly.
Steve stood by as the armorer pulled the steaming leather out with a long, hooked pole. The leather had a hole already cut out of the middle and the armor lowered it over Hunter’s head. Moving quickly, the armorer tied it snugly around Hunter’s waist with a piece of old rope. Steam rose from the leather.
“I’m glad he already had one my size,” Steve muttered. “That’s hot.”
“No one ever died of this,” growled the armorer. “I’ve been doing it for years. That tunic he’s wearing will protect him.”
“I am fine,” said Hunter.
The armorer quickly tied the leather around Hunter’s arms, as well, so that it fit tightly around his entire torso. Then he began to punch holes up and down the sides in straight lines, ignoring the uneven shape of the leather. By the time he had finished, the leather no longer steamed.
The armorer knocked on the leather against Hunter’s chest. It gave slightly. “Still soft,” he muttered.
“Just wear that for a few more minutes.”
Hunter nodded.
The armorer drew a knife and began trimming the leather. He cut it off at Hunter’s waist and straightened the edges running down the robot’s sides from under his arms. By the time the armorer had cut the last pieces off, he had to use a great deal of effort to slice the blade through the leather.
“Should be finished now.” The armorer knocked on the Hunter’s back. This time, it made a thunking sound. “That’s it. Here, I’ll lift it off.”
Hunter bent forward so the armorer could raise it over his head.
Steve saw that the leather had now solidified into a hard shell that maintained its shape, just like the leather he was still wearing.
“It needs a little more trimming. And some of these holes need to be punched out more cleanly. I’ll do that. When you come back in the morning, I’ll have thongs for you to lace the sides closed. After that, you keep it.”
“Thank you.”
The armorer nodded and carried the new armor inside his building.
Some recruits walked around the slope to the rear side, avoiding the village. Others took the cobbled road up to the village gate. Hunter and Steve walked back up to the gate together.
“Hunter, Harriet here.” Her call came through his internal receiver.
“Yes, Harriet.”
“I can see you walking back up the hill and I got a moment alone. Did you see MC 6 anywhere?”
“No. Tell me where you are. We must confer.”
“I think we’d better talk now. I’m in the palace. And if I leave, I don’t know if I’ll be welcome back.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I struck up a conversation with some of the women who live here. One is the wife of an adviser to Artorius and another is the grown daughter of some elderly military man. I’m not sure exactly what he does. But I explained that my husband and our servant had come from Linnuis by way of Gaul to fight and that I was now unescorted.”
“They simply invited you into the palace?”
“Not exactly. We talked for a while. They are very conscious of social class. I am clearly not a peasant.
When they asked about you, I explained that you were a very wealthy and successful horse breeder and trader. They know that Artorius needs an ongoing supply of good horses.”
“What happened?”
“Gwenhwyvaer, the daughter of the military man, has been very kind. We get along well. She invited me to stay with her. But she had to argue with some of the others. I don’t want to seem ungrateful by asking to go out again today. But if everything is still okay tomorrow, maybe I can meet you in the village.”
“Then you have safe lodging for the night?”
“Oh, yes. As long as I don’t offend anyone. And I may have a chance to spot MC 6 here, if he has regained his full size by now.”
“Very well. I will wait for you to call me again. If you feel any potential danger, call immediately.”
“All right, Hunter. Harriet ou
t.”
Hunter related the conversation to Steve. “Instead of going up to the village to look for her, I suggest we go to the camp in the rear to find out where we will sleep.”
“Good idea.”
Jane had hoped to remain in the village until the troop returned. However, Emrys’s business did not take long enough. In the morning, he had bargained with men from the palace for the sheep. After some spirited haggling, Emrys had sold them all to the palace, improving the deal by offering the firewood, as well. He had received both coin and barter in the form of some wool and two piglets that had to be tied inside the wagon.
At Jane’s request, Emrys had agreed to spend more time in the village. They visited an open-air stall at midday to eat and then browsed through the shops. However, in the middle of the afternoon, he had decided to return home. As they had taken the wagon back down the slope toward the gate in the outer wall, Jane had seen the troop of riders still maneuvering in the distance.
Jane watched Wayne and Ishihara carefully all day. In turn, they looked at everyone in the village, but only glanced casually at the troops on maneuver in the distance. She could not figure out why Ishihara did not examine the troops more closely.
Although she did not want Ishihara to notice Hunter if he had not seen him already, she wanted to find out what priorities he was using. She waited until the wagon had left the main gate and traveled down the road, leaving the troops out of sight around a bend. Then she raised the subject indirectly, speaking in English so that Emrys would not understand.
“Ishihara.”
“Yes.”
“As I understand it, Wayne will only instruct you to let me go if he can either get MC 6 or bargain for him with Hunter. Right?”
“Yeah?” In the front seat by Emrys, Wayne turned around and glared at her suspiciously. “We’ve already established that. What of it?”
“When are we going to get this underway? I don’t want to live here forever.”
“Calm down, will you?” Wayne said sourly. “I don’t like waiting, either. But we can’t do anything till we find at least one of them.”
“So we’re just going to visit the village every day and look around? What if Emrys doesn’t want to go back tomorrow? He has chores at home.”
