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 my Ianista, my manager, which means he will be your mother, your father, and your confessor for your duration here. Is that clear?”
Cam looked to the big Teutonic warrior. “It is, m’laird.”
Clegg moved to pour himself some wine out of the beautiful crystal decanter.
“Axel is in charge and you will never disobey him,” he said.
“Wendell will be your instructor and you will never disobey him, either. Any show of resistance or rebellion, and you shall be reduced in status and expected to work off what I have already invested in you. Do you have any questions so far?”
Cam nodded without hesitation. “Aye, m’laird,” he said. “Ye say this is the Ludus Caledonia—this castle is all of it?”
Clegg shook his head. “This castle is only the beginning,” he said.
“It is called Caelian Hill. I was a great English knight once, but fortune took me away from England, where I served various kings as a mercenary, including the Scots’ King James.
He granted me this property in payment for my services.
The castle is the heart of my complex, the Ludus Caledonia.
That is the collective term for everything. ”
It was a concise explanation from a man who had probably made the same speech hundreds of times, but Cam kept his mouth shut, sensing the man wasn’t finished yet. As expected, Clegg continued.
“Outside of the walls and down the hill, there is a warrior village,” Clegg went on.
“The arena next to it, cut into the hillside, is called the Fields of Mars and it is both our training ground and our entertainment field. Wealthy lords pay a good deal of money to gamble their money away on our fights, and we have had many a warrior leave us to assume the helm of an army or become a man of great respect in the court of a duke or an earl. I’ve even had men end up as the right hand of kings. ”
Cam considered all he’d been told, laboring to drink it all in. This was what he’d spent months looking for, hoping for, so the moment was not lost on him.
He wanted it badly.
“Ye’ve been truthful with me, m’laird, so I will be truthful with ye also,” he said.
“I’ve men tae kill. That is why I’ve come: tae learn tae fight so that I can seek vengeance for the death of my grandfather.
I will swear fealty tae ye and I will never disobey a command, but when my time is finished, I will leave ye. I’ve something I must do.”
Clegg nodded faintly in a gesture of understanding.
“Every man has his own motivation,” he said.
“But know this: you are an investment, Cam. I will invest money into your training and your housing, and in return, you will swear fealty to me and you shall fight for me. The usual duration of your oath is seven years and I will expect you to hold to that oath. But seven years is a long time to wait to exact your vengeance. If you cannot wait that long, then you are free to leave now. I will not waste any more time on you.”
Cam shook his head firmly. “I willna leave,” he said. “I told ye I’d swear an oath. I meant it.”
“Good,” Clegg said. “But there is also something else to consider. Some of the lords who come to watch the battles do so in order to find strong warriors for their armies. If a lord is willing to buy out the remainder of your contract, then you shall serve a new master until such time as the contract is finished. Whether or not you wish to continue serving the man after that will be up to you. Is that clear?”
“It is.”
Clegg held up a finger. “This is a business, Cam. That is all it is to me, but even with business, there is honor. I conduct myself honorably and I expect you to as well.”
Cam may not have known much about the world in general, but he understood honorable practices from his days as a smithy.
He knew what it meant to make a fair profit, and that was exactly what Clegg was doing, only it was with warriors.
It all boiled down to the fact that this was a gambling business and Clegg was in it to make money.
“I swear that I will be honorable in all things, m’laird,” he said. “All I ask is that ye teach me tae punish my enemies.”
Clegg made his way over to Cam, his cup of fine wine still in his hand. The hypnotic, silver eyes viewed him intensely.
“I will teach you much more than that.”
Cam believed him. When Clegg returned to his table and produced a contract that had been carefully written on parchment, Cam made his mark. As Clegg sanded the ink, Axel spoke to Cam.
“Now your education begins,” he said. “Put your right hand over your chest.”
Cam looked at him with some confusion until Axel showed him what he meant. When his right hand was over his chest, Axel continued.
“Repeat after me,” he said quietly. “I faithfully swear to do all that is commanded of me, all that is required of me, and all that is asked of me.”
Cam did. “I faithfully swear tae do all that is commanded of me, all that is required of me, and all that is asked of me.”
“May I live to both fight and protect my brethren. May God smile upon me and grant me courage so that I may not fail myself or those around me.”
“May I live tae both fight and protect my brethren. May God smile upon me and grant me courage so that I may not fail myself or those around me.”
When he was finished, Clegg’s soft voice filled the pungent air of the chamber. “Thus it is spoken,” he murmured. “Thus shall it be done. Now you are a novicius, Highlander. A novice. It is time for you to enter the world of the Ludus Caledonia.”
There had been something reverent about the oath, something that subdued Axel and Clegg and even Wendell. Axel had spoken the words with such reverence, something not seen outside of prayer.
The oath he’d taken had been the Fionnadh Fuil, or the Blood Oath, of the Ludus Caledonia.
In the days to come, Cam would know those words better than anything he’d ever known in his life.
With that oath, he had become part of something that was far bigger and far more brutal than he could have ever imagined.
God help him, he had signed himself over to a fight guild.