The King's Cavalry Read Online Free PDF

Quirinus finished simply.
    Not a Roman was taken alive, at my orders. I wanted no survivors to raise the alarm about our expedition, and Quirinus took time to dispose of the dead under the river ice and in a nearby copse, where only the ravens would find them.
    The report filled me with satisfaction, and I took particular pleasure at Quirinus’ mention of ‘gladiatorial techniques.’ I had saved my own life more than once by employing the street-fighting methods I learned as a young soldier at the gladiator school at Carnutum, on the Danube. I remembered with an inward grin how our instructor would bellow at us: “Don’t mince and tittup about like a whore on the make: hit the bastard!” As a military commander, I urged my officers to add the fighting techniques of boot, elbow and eye-gouge to their training schedules. Ironically, the farsighted centurion who long before had made us learn them had now cost his emperor some Roman lives.
    I was well pleased with Quirinus’ ingenuity on the ice, and his recognition that horseshoes that are strapped to the animals’ feet are a hindrance in snow and mud, but the next bit of news made me positively laugh out loud. “We took 28 heavy horses as well as a number of secondary remounts,” Quirinus wrote. “Five of the big horses carried our own CB brands.” This stood for ‘ Classis Britannica ,’ for ‘British Fleet,’ and had been my whimsical choice when the horse breeders asked how we would brand our steeds.
    They must have been part of the plunder from Maximian’s invasion of Britain and our cavalrymen would be gladdened to hear of their recovery, and would see it as a positive omen of future success. I turned back to Quirinus’ report: “King Stelamann’s men commandeered several farm carts and they took a quantity of Roman arms and armour back to Vallis while we rode on with the guides to meet the horse breeders.”
    So, the first phase was done. Quirinus mischievously guessed my reaction to all this. “I request forgiveness for ruining the troops’ socks,” he wrote, “and hope it will not be deducted from my pay.”
    “Send him a message,” I commanded. “Tell him that he does not have to pay for the holes, at least. ” As soldiers’ marching socks are open at the heels and toes and were probably torn to pieces anyway, Quirinus’ pay was safe, and so were our men.

 
    V - Views
     
    Bishop Candless was impatient, and somewhat fearful. He knew that the emperor’s mother was scooping up all the holy relics she could, zealously industrious as a new convert to Christianity, and he wanted to get his hands on something before she cleaned up the market. He had been in contact with the church leaders and seemed to have agreement to visit Rome to take some holy relics back to Britannia, but, just as Arthur was doubtful of his reception, so too was Candless hesitant, and for the same reason.
    Arthur had personally executed the Roman general who had invaded Britain, and that general, Constantius Chlorus, was the father of Constantine, who was the current emperor, or was at least, Candless corrected himself, one of the claimants to be emperor.
    Would Queen Helena punish Candless for her husband’s death, or would Constantine himself order the Britons punished for his father’s execution? The bishop had no way of knowing.
    At least, he thought, Arthur as king-emperor had a better chance at immunity. If he, a mere bishop, went to Rome, he could be accused of almost anything and sent for crucifixion, or , at best, to be thrown off the Tarpeian Rock. He would have a better chance of surviving if he went with Arthur, but now the king was reticent about whether he really wanted to go, even if it meant defying Constantine’s polite summons. But… Candless really wanted some relics to validate his new church and to attract streams of donative-carrying pilgrims. It really is selfish of Arthur not to put himself out, the danger can’t be that great, he thought