Hal had an uneasy feeling about the inn as soon as they walked through the door. The way the conversation stopped and the Gaulish men stared at them with narrow eyes made his neck prickle. “Let me take your cloak, Master,” Hal said, emphasizing the last word, because he knew exactly what it was the men were staring at. Not at the dark-haired Irishman, a fellow Celt, but at the man who accompanied him with his light features and a Germanic accent to his Latin. Roman Gaul still fought with Germania, which made Hal their enemy. So he and Kyle had agreed he would play the part of a slave when needed on their journey.
Kyle opened his mouth to speak, probably to thank him, then remembered himself and only gave a curt nod before handing Hal his cloak.
Kyle took a seat at a table while Hal hung his cloak on a peg. He made a quick check around the room, taking note of the quickest path to Kyle’s side, then went to the back of the common room where other servants and slaves awaited their masters’ beck and call. He recognized many of them from the north, with ice-blue eyes and blond hair under the grime. “Wes ðu hal,” Hal said as he dipped a bowl of porridge from the communal pot.
“Slaves are not allowed to speak,” one of them mumbled, keeping his eyes lowered. He had a welt across his face, as if he’d been hit with a whip.
Hal looked over the men next to him. He had seen his share of slaves, but it wasn’t until they had moved deeper into Gaul that he started seeing his own people enslaved. He didn’t know whether to pity them or despise them. By Woden, how could they sit cowed liked this? “You are a slave because you let yourself be a slave.”
They glared at him with fire in their eyes and Hal smirked. So they were still men after all.
Hal observed the room as he ate, watching for any unusual movement or suspicious looks from the other patrons. Kyle had received his meal and was talking to the men next to him at the table. Hal would much rather camp in the forest, but Kyle insisted on inns. The young prince was spoiled in that respect, needing a table to eat at and a bed to sleep in.
“Where are you from?” Hal asked the man with the welt, keeping his voice low to avoid attracting attention.
“Franconia,” the man said after a slight hesitation.
Hal nodded. They were a good people, good fighters, holding the line against the push of Rome. “Were you taken in battle?”
The man nodded. “But I took twenty of them down before they got me.”
“Quiet down, Germanic dog!” a man roared, coming at them with a whip.
Hal didn’t even think about it, he shot his hand out and grabbed the man’s wrist, stopping the whip in mid-flight. The man snarled and swung a large fist at Hal’s head. Hal deftly pulled his knife and sank it into the man’s belly.
The inn exploded with sound — benches scraping and men shouting. Hal realized his hand was around his knife, stuck into a man’s belly. He looked up at Kyle. Kyle was staring at him, wide-eyed. Scite!
He jerked the knife out and pushed the man away, his eyes searching for an escape route, but more men were on him, grabbing him. “Ætfleo!” he shouted at Kyle, hoping the kid would obey him and save himself. But of course Kyle was pulling out his own sword and heading towards him.
Hal tried to twist away, but the men had a tight hold on him. He heard the scrape of blades being drawn and he kicked out at the men around him. “Ætfleo, Kyle!” he shouted again. If Hal could keep these men occupied, Kyle should be able to get away and—
Heavy weight barreled into him, knocking him to the floor. He was caught in a pile of arms and legs, but managed to squirm his way out. He first sought out Kyle and found the young man at the edge of the fray, watching the scene in front of him.
Hal rolled over and got to his feet. The slaves — every one of them — had joined the battle and now fought against their masters. The Franconian man slit a throat then grinned at Hal. “We are no longer slaves, brother!” Then he returned to his task, shouting a Franconian battle cry: “Fram, fram, bóandmen! Fram, fram, konungsmen!”
Hal decided the former slaves had the situation in hand so it was a good time to get out of there. He ran towards the door, grabbing Kyle by the arm on the way out and dragging the prince after him.
“You started a fight, Hal!” Kyle exclaimed as they made their way to the stables. “A slave revolt! Do you really think it was a good time to do this?”
“If they do their jobs, we won’t have anything to worry about,” Hal said as he led his horse out of the stable and mounted it. “Besides didn’t you say that your book tells you there is a time for everything?” He grinned at Kyle. “Today was the time for these men to be free.”