by Sean Poage
Rhufawn led the troop on an easy walk to warm up the animals while he spoke about proper care and grooming of the horses while on campaign. When they were well away from the camp, they took their mounts through some basic exercises, riding at the trot, canter and gallop, sharp turns and short jumps, traversing steep slopes and crossing small fords. At various points, they dismounted to practise such skills as leaping into and out of the saddle while armed, having the horse lie down and the care of the vital hooves.
All but Peredur were well experienced in these techniques. Gawain assured Rhufawn that he would drill Peredur regularly to bring him up to the level expected. At the end of the day, they returned to camp to find the Cesspit just beginning. They hastened to join in, their comrades calling them out for being late and stinking of horse.
The following day started with a long forced march, with periodic drills for what to do in the case of an ambush. This was followed by a new version of the rotations. In the first group, the men paired off to practise with the wooden swords against each other instead of the tree-men. For the javelin, the men drew up in line to practise throwing as coordinated teams. The shield wall group practised defensive and offensive manoeuvres with the training spears. A fair amount of minor injuries resulted, but nothing disabling. As the cadre frequently told them, they should sweat and bleed in training so that they would not in battle.
After midday, the cavalrymen again went to work on their role skills. This time there was more focus on riding and turning in close formation and using the javelin while mounted. They also practised using leg pressure and weight-shifting to guide the horse so that they could keep their hands free for fighting.
Early on that day, Peredur had an accident. While galloping down a steep slope, the horse made a slight change in course, probably to avoid a hole or rock. Peredur, not expecting the shift, did not hold his seat properly, and in trying to right himself, distracted the horse, which stumbled and fell. Peredur, thrown clear, was bruised but not seriously injured. The horse, however, broke its foreleg and lay thrashing on the ground, eyes wide in fear, snapping and squealing in pain.
The men rallied up to check on Peredur, but he was horrified about the horse and rushed over to try and calm the poor beast. Gawain approached him, put his hand on his shoulder and held his knife out. Peredur only stared at the blade.
“Don’t fret, lad. We’ve all lost at least one mount at some point. It’s better you do that here, and learn from it, than in front of the enemy. Just remember to lean well back when going downhill and use your legs to hold your seat.” Gawain tapped him with the knife handle. “But the beast is your responsibility, and you must end its misery.”
Peredur glanced up at Gawain, distraught, but nodded and took the knife. A moment later it was over. His head stayed down.
Keir tried to lighten the mood. “It looks like you’ve bought yourself a year’s supply of horse steak.”
Peredur choked, but Gawain interceded, laughing, “No, this is my gift to you, Keir. We all know you prefer horse to anything, except perhaps hound.” Only pagans ate horse or dog, but this one would need to be paid for, and Gawain cringed inwardly, knowing that, as Peredur’s patron, it would fall to him.
Gareth volunteered to ride back to fetch a replacement horse for Peredur and a team to remove the unfortunate one. While he was gone, they practised close order drills. Rhufawn lent Peredur his horse after getting sheepish assurances that Peredur would not kill this one.
Gareth returned with word that a mount was on the way, as well as a cart and slaves to retrieve the dead horse. They continued drilling, and presently an ox-drawn wagon lumbered towards them, as well as a pair of riders leading a spare horse. Gareth winked at Gawain, who looked more closely and realised that one was his wife, the other an escort soldier. He looked to Rhufawn, who chuckled, rolled his eyes and turned away.
Gawain took that as approval, punched Gareth in the arm and spurred his horse towards the approaching party. Rhian smiled demurely as he approached and affected an air of strict business.
“I’ve brought a replacement horse for Peredur, as well as the work party for the unfortunate animal,” she said. “I had no idea you were involved in this and would not think of interrupting your exercise.”
“Those little moments you spoke of make happily frequent appearances.” Gawain laughed, falling in alongside her and reaching over to pull her in for a kiss.
Gawain was concerned about drawing negative attention on account of his wife, but no one seemed to care. After a short visit, the carcass was loaded, and Rhufawn called the men back to continue the training. Gawain and Rhian shared a muted, longing goodbye, and returned to their respective duties.
That day and evening continued as those before. Any sense of time was lost, the exhausted men increasingly nursed injuries, and minor illnesses became common. Coughing and hoarse speech were frequent, as well as dysentery; all typical of rough work in close proximity.
That night Gawain and Padraig were happy to get the first watch, and following their shift, went quickly to sleep in their tent. They were not asleep long when awakened by horn blasts and the cadre shouting at the top of their lungs for the men to assemble.
Bewildered and thinking they might be under attack, they all rushed out to the centre of the camp, where they were ordered into ranks. In front stood two soldiers, younger men that Gawain didn’t know very well. They stood with their heads down, fresh bruises visible on their arms and legs. Gede and another with the name Mabon, the son of Tremayne as he recalled. When all were in ranks and quieted, Dochu paced back and forth in front of the formation for a moment, appearing to think of what to do next. Finally, he stopped and addressed the gathering.
“It would appear that we’ve been lax in our instruction, our duty to teach you the importance of every duty of every man in the army,” Dochu bellowed, beginning to pace again.
“Why do we place sentries around the camp?” he stopped to scowl at the men. “What, no one has an answer?”
“To protect the camp,” Gawain called out, realisation dawning on what must have happened.
“To protect the camp!” Dochu echoed with emphasis. “So when a sentry falls asleep, he leaves the camp vulnerable, does he not?” Some tentative nods and mumbled agreements were his only answer. “DOES HE NOT?” he screamed.
“YES, LORD!” the men shouted in unison.
“Perhaps we’ve failed by not providing the proper training. We didn’t march the logs tonight, so that may be why your comrades here felt the need to sleep during their watch.” He gestured towards the two miserable youths in front of everyone.
“Let us rectify that oversight,” he continued. “Fetch your logs!” The men groaned as they dispersed to the logs around the fire pit, many hostile eyes and muttered curses directed towards Gede and Mabon. The two started to join their comrades, but Dochu stopped them.
“Where are you going?”
“To the logs, as ordered,” Gede answered.
“Oh, no, my delicate lambs,” Dochu said. “You need your sleep, so go to your tent and take your rest. The men will help, by singing a lullaby, won’t you, my fine fellows?”
The pair went to their tent while the rest trudged around the camp with their logs, groaning out a funeral dirge that Eudaf suggested. It continued for over an hour before they were finally told to replace the logs, reset the watch and return to their tents. There was scant time left before the morning training would resume. The two men, wracked with shame, did not sleep that night.
The next morning began as early as all the others, with men in fouler moods and shorter tempers. Gede and Mabon did their best to apologise, to little effect, and decided to just stay out of the way as much as possible. The day passed much as the others, and the exhausted men had almost forgotten the purpose towards which they laboured. Most had never spent such an intense or extended time in training.
The following morning, they found that they were allowed to sleep until the sun had nearly risen. The morning run was shorter, ending with a swim and wash. Breakfast was less hurried, and upon completion, they went to work on the three rotations. The cadre were more relaxed and focused on helping the soldiers with the finer points of their skills.
After the midday meal, Dochu assembled the troops and looked across the group of tired and subdued but unbroken men.
“Congratulations, warriors,” he proclaimed. “We’ve come to the end of our training. Tonight we return to our homes and families to clean up, rest and prepare for the days ahead. Tomorrow is Calandmei, and all are welcome at the hall of our lord for the feast.
“In two days, twenty-five of you will depart for the muster at Alt Clut. For those who stay, you’ve become better men and should stand proudly with those of us who remain behind.
“Now let us strike camp, collect our goods for the wagons, and when all is in order, we will march to the fort and give our lord a good showing.”
As he said that, a pair of wagons appeared, rumbling towards the camp. The men cheered and set to work, clearing the site and loading the wagons. Marching back to the hillfort, they found that many of the families had set up their tents in the level areas around and below the fort. Everyone in the area had stopped what they were doing to line the road and cheer as the soldiers approached. Gwyar, the family leaders, Rhian, Gladus and the other wives stood at the entrance to the fort.
Dochu halted the company at the gates and reported to Gwyar that the men were well ready to perform their duty. Gwyar nodded his approval and ordered that the men be released to their families. Gwyar’s tendency towards brief speeches was yet another trait that endeared him to the warriors.
The formation dispersed and the men went to their families. As expected of well-drilled soldiers, they had brief reunions, then set to work cleaning their kit and making it ready for the next march. Families brought any extra gear and belongings their soldiers needed, and the prepared satchels were stacked along the stockade wall. Larger items and supplies were loaded onto the pair of wagons. The activities produced an atmosphere of excited uncertainty and restrained melancholy. Thoughts turned to the reality of saying goodbye to friends and loved ones for an unknown length of time. Perhaps forever.
Gawain swept Rhian into his arms and kissed her more passionately than considered polite in public. They shared a few words, then Gawain went on to see to his gear. He found Peredur taking care of both of their kits and praised him for his initiative and hard work. Soon all had finished, and servants had repacked the wagons for travel. The men scattered to join their families.
Returning to their house, Gawain found the entire family relaxing around the fire. Rhian led Gawain to his seat and gave him a mug of beer before curling up on the cushions beside him. They chatted and rested for a while until a messenger came to the door and informed Gwyar that the datlā was assembled and waiting at the hall.
Gwyar dismissed the messenger and drained his mug, then picked up a small leather bag and tossed it to Gawain. It was heavy for its size and jingled. Gawain opened it to find a large handful of small silver coins with a scattering of gold, copper and bronze pieces.
“What’s this?” Gawain asked, dumbfounded.
“Coins are rare these days, but I shouldn’t have to explain what they are,” Gwyar replied, groaning to his feet. “We have little use for them around here, but you’ll be travelling to lands where they might still be handy. And as you’ll be leading men, you may have to provide for their needs at times. These coins are not for you to spend on wine and,” he paused, recalling Rhian was there, “dice, but to perform your duty. I expect a full accounting when you return,” he grinned as he headed for the door. “You should probably attend this meeting,” he said as he stepped out.
Gawain gaped at the small fortune he held in his hands until Rhian took the bag from him.
“I know what to do with these. Go to the council,” she said, kissing his cheek. Gawain jumped to his feet and hurried out.
Only family leaders and the training cadre were present for the meeting, as well as Piran. He sat beside Gwyar with an expensive sheet of vellum and his ink and quills. Gawain found it odd to be invited to the meeting, but no one seemed to take notice.
The first topic was to detail the materials and stores the various families had contributed. It was wise to do so before anyone could be insulted by the results of the muster choices.
The debate over who would be chosen for, or rather excluded from, the muster actually went smoothly. The cavalry would remain the five sons of the leading families—Gawain, Gareth, Mabon ap Iden, Teilo and Keir. Peredur would go as Gawain’s armiger, technically a member of the cavalry but not an official member of the muster. Gawain was responsible for him in every matter, including food, arms and other expenses. Mabon was the only other to bring a servant, one of his father’s slaves, under the same conditions.
Of the infantry, the first discussed were the two who fell asleep on watch. It was thought that they would be the first excluded, but Dochu spoke up.
“Yes, they failed in their duty that night, but all men fail,” he said. “The true test of the man is in his character and willingness to improve. Of the two, Mabon ap Tremayne is, I think, not eager to go, and his laxity in training reflects this. However, I’ve observed that Gede is one of the hardest working men, and the shame is still heavy upon him. I submit that he be allowed to go.”
Gwyar nodded, looking around the room. “Eudaf, what say you?”
“I would stake my life on his having learned the lesson and being a credit to our king,” Eudaf said without hesitation.
“Good enough,” Gwyar decided. Looking to Piran, he said, “Add Gede ap Gwawl to the muster.”
That decided, it became a matter of identifying those least skilled or eager to leave, and they quickly settled on the twenty who would march as spearmen. The final task was to decide on who should lead the cohort. When his father raised the topic, Gawain saw several eyes flit in his direction, and he realised his father was manoeuvring him into the leadership role.
There was little actual discussion. Eudaf, as the only experienced warrior going, was nominated but he was quick to refuse the honour.
“The leader should be a promising young warrior of noble bearing,” Eudaf said. “Not a cranky old mud-eater who’d rather bear a horse on his own back than be carried by one.”
Iden, whose son was the most likely contender to Gawain for the position, stood and nominated Gawain.
“It’s fitting that the son of our lord, who has led us so well for so long, lead our sons,” Iden said. “I see in him the honour of his father, and the sharp mind of his mother.” Everyone, including Gwyar, laughed at the gibe.
“Anna was a gift from heaven,” Gwyar smiled sadly. “It’s an honour for myself, as well as for my son, that you submit his name. But our warriors are long used to choosing their leader, and the decision will wait for them to decide tomorrow night. Until then, is there any other nomination?” No one offered any suggestions, so Gwyar nodded.
“Very well,” he said. “Tomorrow we shall see what the coriios decides. Until then, let us adjourn.”
The meeting broke up, and Gwyar turned his attention to Piran, so Gawain waited for Gwalhafed. They walked outside and breathed in the cool air of the fading day. Gwalhafed pointed towards their house, where Peredur and Efrawg stood waiting, each holding a bulky package.
“My lords, the armour is ready,” Efrawg said before directing his attention to Gawain. “Would you care to try it on so we can see if any final adjustments are needed?”
Gawain agreed, which allowed Peredur his first opportunity to arm his master. First, from the package he held, Peredur helped Gawain don a linen shirt with padding around the shoulders. Efrawg removed the mail shirt from the oiled skin he carried a
nd gave it to Peredur. Peredur lifted it above Gawain’s head and settled it down on his shoulders before lacing up the split in the back. It fit perfectly. Gawain was surprised at how light and supple it felt. Efrawg was praised for his work, and Gawain thanked his brother warmly for the valuable gift.
Inside the house, Rhian was leaning over the table, Gawain’s best woollen trousers in front of her. She stopped what she was doing to admire his appearance in the armour. Gawain enquired about his breeches, so she showed how she had opened the seam around the waist, placed a line of coins below the drawstring there and was sewing the seam back up.
“All the gold coins are in here, starting from the right side of your navel,” she pointed out. “After those are silver coins. Each has its own stitch, so a small cut with a knife will only free one at a time. There are plenty left in the purse, but this will lessen the chance of thieves leaving you destitute. And if you find yourself missing your trousers, you’ll probably have more problems than a lack of money.”
“You’re ingenious,” Gawain laughed. “I may lose all else, but never will I surrender my trousers.”
They enjoyed the rest of the night quietly, with a hot dinner and drinks outside under the stars, watching the Calandmei bonfires dotting various hilltops. The ancient tradition marked the first day of summer, and while it originated amongst the pagans, many Christians had not wholly abandoned the old ways.
The next day was spent on preparations for the feast and relaxation with family. Flowers and hawthorn branches were gathered and tied to thresholds. Towards late afternoon, people started arriving. It would be the grandest feast held there in years, too large to fit in the hall, so the food and drink were piled on rough tables beside the pool outside the fort.
Bonfires, music and dancing were considered acceptable ways to keep the holiday, and this night also focused on kinship and friendship. Families recounted old stories to new ears. As intended, the shared hardship of the past week had helped to bond the men. As the mead flowed, they embraced like brothers, swore oaths and boasted of deeds to come. When everyone was comfortably full and warmed by their mead, Dochu stood and called for attention.
