Chapter II
Flight
They sat in what some of the Romans called Mercury, after the fabled winged Deity, though there were different, less complimentary names to the contraption that the common soldiery used: Icarus or even worse the beached whale. Notwithstanding the uncertainty surrounding it, Romans had a deep belief in duty, and if their superiors were willing to have faith in such a machine, then they were willing to accept that it could fly. Adamous sat to the front with Germanicus just behind, quietly the two of them looked over the machines controls and contemplated their fate.
Adamous placed his hand upon the wooden trimmed glass shield that was carved in the manner of the fanned neck of a Cobra, it was meant to protect him, when encountering aggressive winds and rain, he did not feel assured by his touch of the screen. It was all too delicate for his liking. Both passengers stared warily at the trebuchet as it was hauled into place, then a thick rough looking rope was extended and linked to Icarus. Provisions had been packed tightly together in a rear compartment; they held the dual purpose of acting as stabilising ballast. Arzealous had had the idea of adding a rotor to the front to enable lift: this was powered by pedals beneath their feet. He stood by watching with care and stoically looked over the glider one last time, if he felt any apprehension he certainly did not show it. A priest stood by and blessed the vehicle and those that sat in it, whilst other Stratiotai quietly watched and prayed also, but for different reasons.
“So you know your mission. Remember the Franks are a warlike people and may not take kindly to your arrival, keep the craft secret, and when you eventually land; if it looks like it could be discovered, destroy it.”
Germanicus raised his hand to calm him down, “We'll remember to do that, and we'll also try not to be destroyed along with it. We know what we’ve got to do, we’ve spent long hours studying that plan of yours, but it’s not going to matter a jot if we can’t get airborne. Are you sure this contraption will work, and as for the propeller, is it in keeping with such a bird?”
“Yes and yes,” Arzealous appeared frustrated by the enquiries, a smile then shot across his face, “anyway safe journey and whatever you do, don't fall out.”
One of the guards moved toward the lever readied himself to release the tightly strung catapult and waited for the signal.
Arzealous stepped away from the craft and with a stern expression on his face, gave the nod. A quick yank and the glider catapulted into the air. It lurched descended, then caught the wind, slowly it jerked up; frantically Germanicus and Adamous pedalled as though their lives depended on it, which of course they did. The glider outwardly appeared cumbersome but once it took to the air it was like an albatross in flight. Long wings gracefully gave lift, in its element it was far from the haphazard cumbersome floundered whale that some Romans had called it, and being free of restraints, it came to life and elegantly shot away, its propeller designed to rotate at a generous speed, enabled them to quietly achieve a greater height. The rota blade became blurred, air rushed past them and calmly the craft without too much difficulty steadied itself and swung round, soon they were moving silently over the naval blockade; someone in a crow’s nest looked up as they flew overhead, he had felt something, a deepening shadow but thought it just the disquiet of the dark and continued his watchful gaze at the walls of the City. When the ships were far behind them, and they felt confident enough to slow the manic cycling to a more manageable level, the two of them began to relax.
“So do we follow the coastline all the way?” asked Germanicus.
“No, coastal areas are too inhabited,” replied Adamous. “We want to keep out of sight for as long as possible. We’ll head inland: there are a lot of sparse areas we can traverse without being seen by anyone. And if someone does spot us, they wouldn’t know what they were looking at, being so high up they’d probably think the crafts an eagle, and anyway, even if they could see us and told someone about it, who’d believe them.”
“In a world like this, probably everyone,” cried Germanicus as the wind desperately tried to stop up his words, “and a lot of those myths are based on something real. Speaking of myths, I hope that Michael and the Watcher deal with the Rageon, I’m sure it being here is no coincidence, something’s up and we need to know what it is. But I guess we'll have to leave that to them, our main concern should be the savage lands we’re about to enter and what might be waiting for us there.”
They journeyed on for a number of hours; shrouded in darkness, an all-encompassing impenetrable velvet wall that for the most part remained unbreached. Every so often from below and above, pin pricks of light could be seen escaping from the shadows. They had driven the ship forward and had lost count of time: when the dark finally yielded to a crimson glow on the horizon, both breathed a sigh of relief. The two of them had alternated their pedalling throughout the night, so that while one struggled on, the other could rest, but still their limbs felt strained to the limit.
Adamous gestured vigorously, “Since we're not going to have the veil of night to protect us we should turn inland, and we need to soon seriously start looking for a place where we can set this thing down.”
Germanicus nodded, “There is one thing. When we land how will we take off again?”
“You mean if we are meant to take off again, at least we’ve achieved our main objective, which was to get past the Saracen encampment.”
The two fell silent, as slowly the craft listed to one side and turned away from the rising sun; the night at least had passed without incident and they were far from the enemy, yet there were many leagues ahead of them filled with dangers far worse than those already faced. Golden corn fields touched by the sun glowed beneath them, hills rose and fell like calm waves. Sheep and cattle roamed undulating lands. Vineyards glistened below, spreading out from their monastic residences as though they were great tentacled leviathans. Seas of bright wild flowers spread over vale and meadow and still they struggled on, but as the day drew to a close the weather that had been so kind, turned violent. Lashing rain, strong winds, and flashing clouds; it was as if they were in the midst of an ancient battle between the Titans and the Gods of Olympus. They fought to battle the elements, and keep the craft stable. Such a feat was beyond anything a mortal man could do, but these two, were the Angelos, still nature sorely tested every sinew of their bodies. The battering soon became intolerable, as the vehicle began to tear itself apart. Panels were shaken so forcefully, they began to loosen their rivets and hurtle away; one almost decapitated Germanicus as it did so.
“We need to land,” shouted Adamous.
“Believe me I get that, and just how we are going to do that without crashing is beyond me,” cried Germanicus.
The vessel jolted sharply and plummeted wildly, quickly Adamous jostled with the steering, grappling desperately to take back control, there was a brief moment where they both thought the battle to retrieve the ship lost, when suddenly and thankfully Icarus steadied herself and finally once more flew true.
“Right that’s it, we're going down before we lose complete control,” Adamous yelled the words, even so they seemed lost in the wind.
"I thought we were already going down," shouted the reply.
Looking frantically round, he gestured strongly toward some open ground, then pushing on the levers, they rapidly descended, it was all they could do to maintain some semblance of stability, so rough was the storm. The vehicle lurched, buckled, and dropped the last few fathoms, to crash, thankfully onto soft boggy earth, which certainly saved its two occupants from any major catastrophe. As it thumped the ground, it shuddered, twisted and almost flipped over, one of the wings broke off at its centre, which sent the glider spinning, it sprung up in the air one last time, before coming down with a jarring thud, which knocked the wind out of its passengers.
Adamous hauled himself from his seat and roughly tugged at Germanicus to free him from his. Germanicus reached in behind him and pulled out a holdall as the rain lashed down e
ven more violently. They then raced towards the cover of the trees. Beneath the canopy, there was a strange calm; the two quickly gathered themselves.
“Well that was quite vexing,” said Adamous, pulling off his helm and taking a hard look at his companion, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” replied Germanicus, who, but for a few scratches seemed none the worse for the ordeal, “just a little, or a lot shaken up that’s all, it certainly wasn't the easiest of landings though I think we've had worse, not that much worse but still. So where do you think we are?”
Adamous stared out from behind the trees, the unnatural gloom and the haranguing thunder did nothing to lessen his concerns for how difficult their situation had just become.
“We knew that the craft would not take us all the way. It was just a matter of time before it gave out,” said Adamous, who had recovered quickly from the battering they had taken. “I had hoped it would take us further though. We are a long way from leaving the lands of Byzantium, which means we still may run into the Saracens and who knows who or what else.”
“The idea though was to get out of the city and to get as far from the enemy camp as possible, that at least has been achieved,” reassured Germanicus. “Now we need to gather our belongings and find some horses; we have after all a long road ahead, but first we rest and eat.”
Germanicus rummaged through the bag he had taken from the glider, and took out what food stuffs could be had that were not spoiled and mashed, and passed some of the wrappings to Adamous. Salted meet and dried bread would be their supper and in the wild such fare was not to be sniffed at. Even after they had broken there fast, they remained beneath the shelter of the trees to wait until the storm abated, then creeping forward they collected what belongings they could from the downed craft, then gathered the remnants of it together, and made a pyre from them. First Adamous and then Germanicus tried to fire it. It was difficult to burn, as the wood was wet and sodden; eventually they were forced to concede defeat: that it had no desire to end up as a pile of ash; and so no matter how time consuming it was, the separate parts were hauled into the wood and covered by brush, until thoroughly concealed.
“There let it remain until rotten wood has been eaten up by time.”
"Shame though to have given these people flight would have changed their whole outlook on the world," Adamous nodded to himself, the vehicle was too broken up for it to be of use to anyone, and no doubt it would fall to ruin long before any curious eyes had captured sight of it.
"And also it would have altered the Equilibrium," said Germanicus who was staring indignantly at the North Finder which he had retrieved from the vehicle, the case was broken and the pointer bent, it was beyond repair so he shook it grudgingly and threw it aside.
"You forget they had previously the power of flight but had just lost the understanding of it, so realising it again would not have been a breach of the Equilibrium," Adamous gave out a sigh and shaking his head smiled to himself and turned to face the day or what was left of it; everything in that dusky gloom appeared the same, and without a point of reference there was no knowing where they were. So before moving off they made sure everything was well concealed, Germanicus pointed in the direction that he felt was most likely to lead away from the lands of Byzantium, and with a shrug the two bundled together what they had salvaged from Icarus and set off at a trot; in the failing light the surrounding countryside seemed rugged indeed; hilly, wooded, roughly hewn, there was no indication of civilisation, so they assumed they were far from any well-trod path.
“How long before we reach the land of the Francs?” asked Germanicus quietly, as if he were talking to himself.
“It would not be prudent to guess. Not while we still travel a very hostile unknown road. The problem we have is that if we are not back in Constantinople within six months then there may not be a capital of Byzantium to get back to.”
They travelled until there was a deep dark, and found some trees to shelter under, the overhanging clouds did not seem to wish to leave, and once more a torrent of rain was unleashed. They rested at the foot of a hollow trunk, large grasping roots spread from its base like hungry leaches sucking up the ground. The two sat back and ate their supper, next without realising it, their heavy lids closed, and they fell into a deep sleep.
The false gloom of the storm began to break, the clouds above gradually parted, their hold upon the world slowly unravelling, what had seemed an unearthly cruel cloud burst, now appeared a placid resignation to the fact that such tyrants, though strong willed when they live, forcing even the most hardy to take shelter, are soon overcome and undone by their own extremities.
They woke with some difficulty, tired, stiffened limbs refused at first to cooperate, but by the time they had eaten and gathered there things together, their bodies had fortified, and strength and vigour had returned, they moved throughout the day only stopping briefly to rest and take in some nourishment, and as they went, the lands surrounding began to open up in front of them. They had and were confronting angry expanses of rough heath land, between which were clumps of tethered trees; eventually they came upon a road, more a muddy unkempt track: in patches pools of water had displaced the ground. It at least had the promise of real life at its end; to the side of the path was a large craggy stone which had carved into it the distance to the nearest town, and others which were not so near.
“This road must be on the map, see if we can now get an idea of where we are?”
Germanicus reached into his bag, and pulled out a scroll, fortunately it had remained for the most part dry, if a little crumpled, and sure enough there was a point on it that showed where the standing stone was.
Adamous shrugged and ran his finger along the parchment, “Well it does appear we were tossed and buffeted a bit out of the way, at least we should be able to get some horses from a small hamlet that doesn't appear too far from here.”
Germanicus rubbed tired eyes, and struggled to fight off the allure of sleep; at least the rain had finally stopped and the overhanging grey mantle had cleared.
Adamous could plainly see how tired his companion was, “When we reach the village, we’ll stop to rest, I don’t advise pausing before then, as there’s no knowing what we might run into on the open road.”
“Okay then, the settlement of Lolkos it is,” replied Germanicus, “we should reach there by the evening I hope, and if we’re fortunate there should be a tavern with food, a tub to bathe in, and a bed to sleep in.”
“More importantly, we need horses,” said Adamous.
The road rose and fell, in parts it disappeared altogether beneath a flooded path or tangled overgrown web of unkempt hedge, a clear example of a decaying empire. The storm had left, but the desperate underlying emptiness of the land remained. The road began to rise as it carved its way into an undulating ravine, a shallow stream ran its length, and a recent landslide which was a probable consequence of the preceding storm, hampered their path, warily step by step and so as not to have any rock or muddy sprawl fall upon them, they guardedly made their way to its heart, where in the distance, coming into view, was what appeared a caravan. An armed one at that; quickly to elude it they ran for cover, hiding behind fallen boulders that offered what little protection there was.
As the troop slowly neared, their clothing was easily recognisable, such silks and woven metal jerkins could only belong to Saracens, their helms gleamed with threatening sharpened spikes, a neck guard of bright rings hung to their shoulders, they wore loose fitting breeches and boots that crept up the leg stopping short of the knee, four rode on horseback whilst a troop of ten or so walked either side of a wagon; its contents were well hidden by a heavy looking canopy that had a deep reddish hue and strange lettering on it, that was barely recognisable, and did not appear Arabic in origin, unfortunately both Adamous and Germanicus were too tired to pay much heed to it.
The caravan was important enough to be defended but it had the appearance of stealth and speed about i
t, rather than anything that looked designed for battle. Also the ravine they had entered was not well known, which meant their adversary was either lost or taking a more secret path. As the company passed, Adamous gestured to Germanicus to climb the hard rock face; so that they could quietly keep out of sight of the troop. Warily they clambered up the edge of the ravine, it was not until they were just over half way up that Adamous decided to stop and cast his eyes back down at the scene below.
“What’s your thinking?” whispered Germanicus.
“We need to gain much higher ground if we can, then get behind them….”
The reason for Adamous’s sudden hesitation was that he had slipped, fortunately as he did so Germanicus had quickly reached out and pushed him back into place; holding their breath they waited for arrows to penetrate their backs, but no one from the caravan had been aroused enough to look up, as when with a clatter, stony grit had reached the bottom of the ridge the caravan had already passed well beyond it. Without another word or sound the two carefully shuffled their way across the cliff face, softly making their way to the rear of the troop below, which had stopped by the edge of a stream, so that the horses could be watered, and the guards could fill their water bottles and rest, something they were required to do, before they left that place for good.
Adamous leant forward so as to whisper in the ear of Germanicus, “See those boulders close to you, the storm has weakened the ground enough, that with a little effort we could dislodge them, create a landslide which would when it hits the caravan, cause all manner of confusion, giving us the time we need to get down there and steal some horses, and ride out of here.”
“Seems a bit rash to me,” replied Germanicus.
“Surprise will give us the advantage we need to make our escape; think of it, under cover of the rock fall, we’ll climb down and move among them, they’ll be too busy trying not to be hit to notice us, and that will be our opportunity.”
“I’m not so sure, but since we need the horses and we are out of options, let’s do it,” said Germanicus breathlessly, as he heaved against the nearest rock sending it tumbling below.
Adamous quickly grabbed hold of him before he followed on after the now falling boulders. They watched a moment hidden from view, as precariously standing stones gave way, gained momentum, and crashed into other unsteady rocks: an unsettled mass of broken freed calcified matter began to pick up speed and company, and slide toward the base of the ravine.
Realising their opportunity Germanicus and Adamous leapt forward after the falling mass of mud and tangled brush. Below people were running for cover in every direction, the landslide was so great that the company had been split apart, some had chased after the wagon as it bolted back down the valley, whilst two of the horsemen had been thrown from their horses, the other two horses with their riders sorely tested had bolted and were desperately out of control racing in the opposite direction to the carriage. Whilst they were in disarray some of the Saracens panicked and raced to the far side of the ravine before their exit was blocked off for good. When they reached the caravan, quickly the Angelos pushed aside the men that had fallen from their steeds just as they were struggling to get back on their horses; and mounted them in there stead. As one of the Saracens recovered his footing, he grabbed hold of Germanicus’s leg, Adamous aimed a kick at the man, striking his helm and knocking him to one side, and then digging his heels into his horse and with Germanicus at his side the two fled swords in hand, following on after the wagon.
Other Saracens stood between them and their escape and soon they were upon them, swords clashed, lighting up the ravine, but those on horseback would not be denied. The few Saracens remaining that were guarding the wagon, thought better of a skirmish with such frightening foes, and ran for cover.
With curiosity getting the better of Germanicus he jumped from his horse and quickly covered the short distance to the wagon, and pulled back its heavy shroud to reveal a figure kneeling at its centre, darkly cloaked from head to foot.
“What do we have here then?” cried Germanicus, staring at what appeared to be a prisoner.
“I don’t know, but look,” shouted Adamous. “I’ll unharness the horses; you free the captive.”
The Saracens having regrouped were now rushing up the ravine.
Adamous leapt to the ground and cut the straps holding the horses in place, while Uziel broke the lock freeing the occupant of the cage. Arrows began to rain down trying to prevent the prisoner's release, but they were too late, the cloaked figure leapt on one of the freed horses and the three rode out of the ravine.
The Saracens cries were of fear and amazement for what they had lost, or perhaps those shouts Adamous sensed, were cries of warning.
They hauled on the reins, urging the horses on, as they swept out of the ravine and flew west, there was now no need to head for the settlement, as they had their prize, the horses, it was time to cross lands filled with mystery and intrigue. The ground seemed a distant blur beneath them, it was as if their steeds were flying; so swift and assured was their footing that they barely touched the ground beneath them. It was not until they were a safe distant from their pursuers that they eased their horses to a gallop.
“Germanicus find out who our new companion is,” cried Adamous.
Germanicus twisted to look behind him and started in surprise; he then gestured for them to slow.
“Why was a woman being held so captive?” asked Germanicus.
Her fair hair shone in the sun as if it were aflame, her cold blue eyes did not belong to someone with such a youthful almost delicate appearance, and in fact there was a deep hard expression on her face, she was a slight woman and yet lithe and strong there was a deep unfathomable stern challenging expression to her. She was a person certainly not used to being held captive. Adamous and Germanicus fell silent; their instincts told them there was something commanding about her, even maybe sinister or at the very least threatening.
“Who are you?” asked Adamous sternly, his hand automatically falling to the hilt of his sword.
She huffed as if that was not the first time someone had asked such a question, her hands tightened round the reins, as though she intended to hurl the horse forward, a differential gaze seemed to keep her from fleeing, perhaps she had faced a similar situation before; her stoic regard rested first on Adamous and then on Germanicus; a strange silence held them, as they were sized up; even Adamous’s horse jostled uncomfortably under her watchful gaze. They both felt that there was real power in her, something volcanic that was about to erupt.
When she replied it was through gritted teeth, “I am according to the Saracens a Sorcerous, but truly I am a Physician; the reason why they believed me so was that I saved one of them, who was so close to death, they thought I used magic to do it; and so astonished were they, that their thanks was to bind me and throw me in that cage.”
“I’m surprised; I thought the Saracens not so easily unsettled by the talents of Alchemists. My next question is what are you doing in these lands?”
“My name is Merit Ptah of Alexandria but you can call me Merit. I was on my way to the Francs to seek an audience with the Merovingian prince, when I stopped to help the Saracens; they had been in a skirmish with some Byzantines; being a physician I thought it my duty to do what I could to help, and in their gratitude they waylaid my retinue and took me prisoner. And as for you, you are certainly not Saracens and from your garb I would suggest the obvious and say that you are Byzantines, but you are unlike any I have met before?” There was a deep penetrating intelligence to her stare.
Adamous's eyes narrowed as he glanced quickly at Germanicus. Merit was an unusual individual to be sure; not only that, they both sensed she was much more within than she was without.
“Well, we are also on our way to see the Merovingian Prince, so perhaps you would care to join us on our travels. My name is Adamous and that there is Germanicus.”
Germanicus shot Adamous a look of concern, they did
not know who this woman really was, and the fact that she was considered an enemy of the Saracens did not necessarily make her a friend of theirs. Also there was no way of knowing the truth of her story. A quiet fell on them as Adamous waited for Germanicus to give some indication as to whether he felt comfortable with Merit joining them, and sure enough he imperceptibly nodded. Merit sighed and seemed to smile to herself, not the self-assured confident smile of someone who had got there way, but the smile of a relieved person, of someone who had underestimated the road ahead, and had not realised how treacherous it could be, or perhaps it was simply a knowing smile: she had after all been caged and now she was free.
"Then you had best lead the way, and I hope the road you choose is less trouble than the last one I travelled upon."
With a shrug Adamous tugged on his reins and turned for the lands of the Francs.