PART TWO
THE LUDUS CALEDONIA
CHAPTER TEN
Two hours later,the wagon containing Cam and the men from the Ludus Caledonia entered the dark hills.
It was difficult for Cam not to feel anxiety as the wagon began its trek up the rocky, uneven road. It was difficult not to wonder if he’d made the right decision.
Be careful what you wish for…
Darkness was all around them, creating an eerie mood. The road was winding, tucked in a natural gully, and they traveled for quite some time until they came to the crest of a hill.
Beyond the crest was a castle, but not just any castle. It had enormous walls with pinpricks of light upon them as men with torches patrolled the battlements. A moat that looked like a small lake surrounded one side of it. The wagon drew closer and paralleled the moat until taking a turn that brought them to the great gatehouse.
When the wagon passed through the double-portcullis passage, it lurched to a halt in front of an oddly small keep given the size of the place. Several men rushed toward the wagon with torches in their hands as the men from the Ludus Caledonia disembarked, followed slowly by Cam. He was still trying to take everything in. But they gave him no time for rest or reflection;he was quickly pulled toward the keep, joining the Teutonic man with the brilliant blue eyes.
Pulled through heavy oak and iron doors, Cam felt some apprehension when they slammed closed. He felt as if he’d been swallowed whole and now lingered in the belly of the beast. Ahead was a cracked door, with weak light shining beyond, and he was ushered into a low-ceilinged chamber that smelled heavily of incense.
“We have returned, my lord,” the blue-eyed man said.
The chamber was furnished for a king. There were fine rugs on the floor, elaborate furniture, and fine vessels. Cam was so overwhelmed by the grandeur of the room that he failed to see a well-dressed man with flowing white hair sitting behind a massive table.
“And?” the man behind the table responded. “I assume he is right for our cause?”
The blue-eyed man nodded. “He is, my lord,” he said, indicating Cam. “This is the man called Cam Netherton. I have seen him fight Luther and win, so if he can do that, then he is indeed worthy.”
Hearing his name, Cam turned to the cluttered table where the man seated behind it was scrutinizing him. Cam found himself looking into a face that was lined and weathered, with silver eyes watching every move he made.
In truth, Cam could sense that this was no ordinary man. There was something unnerving in the depths, something that suggested absolute power. When the man finally spoke to him, it was in a rough, deep voice.
“You have been asking after The Cal in Edinburgh.”
“I have, m’laird.”
“And now The Cal has answered. What do you wish of us?”
Cam blinked as if caught off guard by the question. “I… I want tae learn tae fight.”
“What makes you think you are worthy?”
“I never said I was. Yer man did.”
A hint of a smile crossed the man’s lips. “Tell me of yourself, Cam.”
Cam cleared his throat nervously. “I am from Netherton, a village in the Highlands,” he said. “My mother was the daughter of the village leader and my father was a Northman who went by the name of Cam the Fierce. I was raised by my grandfather, who trained me as a blacksmith. My life has been peaceful until this past year when our village was raided and my grandfather killed. And now I am here.”
The man propped his elbows on the table and folded his hands, examining Cam as one often does when appraising a side of beef or a prized stallion.
“You have Northman in you,” he said after a moment. “That is good. That means you have the natural love of a fight.”
Cam wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I… I do?”
Clegg’s lips twitched with a humorless smile at the confused, overwhelmed prospect. “Mayhap,” he said. “We shall see, in any case. Cam, son of Cam the Fierce, my name is Clegg de Lave. The Ludus Caledonia and all within her belong to me. Do you understand so far?”
Cam nodded. “Aye, m’laird.”
Clegg’s gaze drifted over him for a moment before he turned away. “Good,” he said. “Now, I will make introductions. The man with the grip on your arm is Wendell Stanhope, a fine warrior, and the ugly beast with the piercing eyes is Axel von Rossau. I met Axel in Saxony years ago and there is no finer trainer of men in the world. He is myIanista, my manager, which means he will be your mother, your father, and your confessor for your duration here. Is that clear?”
