“It was a true struggle. Pendragon almost didn’t happen.” King David.

The distance that separated them from the mainland was moderate. It was the force of higher-than-expected waves that raised eyebrows. Sam jumped in and began to swim; Besh followed without comment. Raul, at the bank, returned to pull a reluctant Beasley forward. The water was cold.

A ten-minute swim brought them to the opposite bank, where they scrambled ashore and took cover in a stand of stunted trees. While Beasley and Raul huddled and shivered, Besh poured seawater from his multi-colored bag, and Sam knelt on one knee, peeking out through tall grass. Besh strapped his bag in place and crawled to Sam’s position.

“Look there,” said Sam, pointing.

Besh struggled to his knees and peeked out, asking, “What am I looking for?”

Sam answered, “Air traffic.”

Besh saw airships in the distance. There were large transports following a line roughly northwest. At a lower altitude, air skids followed the road turning from north to northwest heading for the town of Addle. High up, Sam pointed out a dark spot flying northeast. It was a pirate ship, possibly one of those that sought them on the island.

Sam said, “That’s where we got to go.”

Besh saw the line of trees in the distance and judged it to be more than a mile. Besh turned and looked the Captain in the eye, prepared to speak when the whine of a low-flying craft came to their ears. They ducked and looked up in time to see a black craft speed overhead, accelerating toward the east and climbing.

Sam said to Besh, “We should run. They might circle back.”

The sun was an orange ball on the eastern horizon. Clouds to the west raised their heads into the warming rays as four men sprinted over rocks and sand, dodging around straw-colored tufts of prairie grass. Besh was concerned by the pace, knowing with certainty that he could not run as far as the trees. Already, his heart hammered his ribs, and he could not catch his breath.

Sam, keeping his eyes on the sky, wanted to run faster. The distance posed no problem to him, but he ran at a slower pace so the others could keep up. He ran easily between the tufts of tall grass and leaped over large stones with light agility. He turned to scan the sky behind them and noticed the old man struggling, gasping for air. He stopped by a shrub and called the youths to his position. A moment later, Besh stumbled into the shadow of the shrub and collapsed.

Beasley watched with wide eyes as Sam and Raul sat Besh up. Besh gasped for air, looked into Sam’s eyes, and nodded. Beasley knelt beside Besh and placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder. Besh blinked up at him and nodded as his breathing slowly became regular.

Besh struggled to speak. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Sam answered, “We’re nearly there. Take a moment; we can wait. Right now, the sky is clear.”

They slid into the line of trees by the road and lay wheezing among the shrubs and tall grass. Besh lay on his back attempting to calm his ragged breathing. His chest ached, and the whole thing had given him a scare. He had not run that much since he was a young man. He felt guilty for slowing the others down. Running is definitely a sport for the young, he thought. Then, he rolled his head and saw Raul and Beasley breathing just as hard. He laughed and coughed, struggling to sit up and locate the Captain.

Crouching by a tree, Sam scanned the old road. Its surface was cracked and pitted. It had not seen maintenance for many years. Weeds made their home on a road that rarely saw traffic. Besh sat and leaned his back against the tree. He was feeling better. Sam studied him with a scarred smile.

Besh said, “I can’t believe you’re not winded.”

Sam replied, “We’ll walk from here. We should reach Addle by noon. You have the seal I hope.”

“Oh, yes,” said Besh. “Tucked away and dry.”

“We’ll gear up and grab a meal,” said Sam, noting an air skid on its journey south.

“I wonder what Addle’s allegiance is,” said Besh.

From his prone position, Beasley answered, “They ally with the King.”

“Let’s go,” said Sam in a commanding tone. “You boys can nap when we get to town.”

They had walked an hour in silence. Besh rubbed his eyes and looked again. He was sure the road had moved. It was still the road, but shifting ever so slightly from east to west. Sam spotted a transport and called them into the trees. Kneeling in the high grass, Besh took a closer look at the road. The cargo barge was large and gray, much of its paint missing. It lumbered north, and Besh turned to Raul who knelt beside him.

“Is the road moving?” he asked.

Raul reached through the grass and waved his hand over the road. A layer of sand swirled above the cracked pavement. “Tidal Train,” he said with a grin. “We should tuck our pants in our socks before it gets worse.”

“I don’t have socks,” Beasley complained from behind.

They sat and made adjustments, Beasley glowering. Raul said, “You know what’s worse than fleas? Chiggers. You can’t even see them, but they make these big red welts. And itch? A la Madre! I wanna scratch just thinking about it.”

Sullenly, Beasley replied, “I hate chiggers.”

As the sun rose, so did the earth around their feet. The Tidal Train blew from the east, a calf-deep soup of sand, gravel, dead grass, and odd bits. It was an odd sensation slogging through the mess. Ahead of them, wild hares crossed the road bounding high above the sand. They moved frantically trying to escape the suffocating clutter. Chittering prairie dogs skittered across the road. Animals sat scratching on the road, some lay on their sides convulsing.

“Death by guacala,” commented Raul.

A thinning line of trees along an old worn road, a broad flat plain echoing silence, a fiercely bright sun inching toward noon; such were the elements of their harsh reality. The party trudged wearily forward as the Tidal Train lapped at their legs like water. Ahead, a thick copse of trees by an outstanding rocky mound beckoned. They scaled the mound and sat in the shade with heavy sighs of relief.

“You know,” said Beasley, scratching an ankle, “when you guys were humiliating me with women's clothing, you could have given me socks. I’m itching like a stray dog, and I’ll likely catch some horrible disease.”

Besh replied, “We’ll get you some medicine when we reach town, some new clothes as well.”

Beasley continued to fuss and scratch. “And a room with a bath,” he said.

“Yes, please,” Raul wearily seconded.

“And a meal,” added Sam.

Besh leaned on one hand, catching his breath. He said, “I think we all need a time out.”

“Ahh!” cried Beasley in alarm.

He tried to scoot back from himself. He came close to toppling from the mound. He continued to back away until he backed into Raul. Maintaining his own precarious balance, Raul jumped to his feet and pulled Beasley around by his collar.

“Damn it, man!” Raul snapped. “Stop.”

“There’s a bug on me,” Beasley whined. “A big one.”

Raul crouched to inspect the proffered ankle and announced, “It’s a tick.”

“Get it off,” demanded Beasley.

“I can’t,” answered Raul. “Its head is buried. If I try to pull it out, the head will remain.”

“Pull it out!” cried Beasley.

“Por favor, Crispin,” replied Raul. “If we leave the head in, you’ll get sick. We need a match.”

Besh said, “I’m pretty sure our matches got wet.”

Sam stood and pulled the engraved knife from the scabbard. “We don’t have matches,” he said kneeling in front of Beasley.

“Wait,” Beasley cried in alarm as the knife pressed into his skin. “Ahh!”

Sam threw the tick down and stood to put away the knife. “Job done,” he said. He returned to his place.

Beasley whimpered, “You could give a warning.”

Raul sat and retrieved the tick for examination while Beasley nursed a new abuse. “Man,” said Raul. “That’s one big bloodsucker.”

Beasley sulked, “I hate bloodsuckers.”

It was shortly after noon when a tired troop limped into Addle. Small houses with decorated front lawns lined the street into the fishing capitol of Camelot. The houses soon became small business fronts which, in turn, coalesced into a compact city center. They chose the Addle House hotel and walked into the lobby. The tempered air was instantly refreshing.

Besh removed his vest and opened an inner pocket to retrieve the seal. With the wrapping removed, Besh handed the King’s seal to Beasley, who walked properly to the front desk to make arrangements. Raul and Beasley went immediately to their rooms. Sam walked into the hotel bar. With a hasty list of sizes and preferences, Besh left the hotel to shop.

Addle was bright, clean, and busy. Its noise was happy. Besh saw no indication of Badger activity but noticed a heavy presence of the King’s militia. Many wore tactical armor emblazoned with heraldic motifs. Besh recognized the fleur-de-lys on many cryolite breastplates. He saw the familiar emblems of winged lion heads, plumes, and eagles. He saw knee-length hauberks with the patriarchal cross. The newer basinets sported sliding visors and two-part mouth guards.

Besh returned with new clothing for all and balm for Beasley. Besh filled his tub and soaked until the water cooled. His new shirt was snug, his new pants loose enough for comfort. He used a new belt and packed new suspenders in a new backpack. He felt as clean and groomed as humanly possible. Satisfied, he took the elevator to the lobby to join his friends for supper.

The Addle House Cafeteria was modest, packed with noisy businessmen. Besh found his party in a corner booth and joined them with a smile. A pretty blond served them. Beasley was stiff and unsure in the young woman’s presence while she brought out the flirt in Raul. Sam seemed more at home in a smaller, less pretentious eatery.

“So, I called the King,” said Besh.

Beasley asked first, “What did he say?”

“Actually,” Besh replied, “he was too busy to answer.”

The blond server returned with drinks and a smile. As she walked away, Beasley said, “We are adrift without an oar.”

Sam sipped from his steaming black coffee and set the cup down to answer. “Yeah,” he said. “We need a clue.”

Besh set his tea glass down and replied, “We have a whole city to ask around in.”

Raul, stirring cream into his coffee, said, “We’ll figure it out.”

Beasley worked the straw in his mint milkshake and grumped, “I can’t imagine why I’m even still here. I have absolutely nothing to offer.”

Besh reminded him, “You’re the Prince’s friend. You know how he thinks and acts.”

Beasley replied, “I’m as much in the dark as the rest of you. I’m sure I would be of more use in the palace serving the King.”

Besh said, “It’s a beautiful evening. Why don’t we split up and walk off our meal? We can ask around.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Sam.

Sam walked quietly. Besh assessed his meal with a pat to his belly. It had to have been the best liver and onion with salad and roll he had ever had. He belched and excused himself.

“Feel better?” asked Sam with a straight face.

“Much,” replied Besh. “Thanks for asking.”

They walked west with the setting sun in their eyes. The evening wind was brisk, the city’s denizens rushed about, immersed in the immediate matters of daily life. Shops closed, workers waited for city transportation. Air skids raced by. Small birds flitted among trees on the sidewalk. Busy people walked past without concern, and a troop carrier rolled by transporting the King’s militia.

“The grunts seem busy,” noted Sam.

“Indeed,” Besh replied.

An older couple passed Sam and Besh. As they walked ahead of them, the old man asked, “Did you hear? It’s war.”

The older woman, Hispanic and shorter than the man, replied, “Ay no! What now, Moses?”

“War?” asked Besh, looking to his companion.

The Captain replied, “We should return to the hotel.”

Raul and Beasley strolled casually south. They found themselves in an urban/suburban divide dotted with large fenced lots and inactive warehouses. Dogs barked in the distance. As the sky grew dim, the silhouettes of birds were seen flying west.

“We should go back,” said Beasley.

“Man,” answered Raul with a grin. “You only say that because you’re lost.”

“Am not,” countered Beasley. “All we have to do is go back the way we came.”

“Yeah, but we turned,” replied Raul. “Remember?”

“We just have to see the city center,” Beasley said. “The buildings are tall and well-lighted.”

Suddenly, Raul stopped and pushed Beasley away, gagging. “Man!” he said bitterly. “You need to walk on the other side of the street.”

“It wasn’t me,” said Beasley.

Raul complained, “Damn, this town stinks.”

“I smell it too,” Beasley said. “It’s animal manure.” Beasley pointed to a stockyard enclosure down the street. An old man exited the compound and closed the gate behind himself. Beasley approached the man.

“Sir,” he called.

The man was tall with short white hair and beard. A distended belly peeked from under the man’s blue uniform shirt and covered his belt. He placed a large lock in a chain and snapped it shut.

“Sir,” Beasley called a second time.

“I heard you,” said the old man.

As Beasley stepped up to the man, Raul ran up from behind with his hand over his mouth. Raul complained, “Jeez, it smells like horse shit, around here.”

“Yeah,” said the old man. “I get that a lot.”

Beasley asked, “Have horses been through here lately?”

The older man, with a straight face, answered, “It’s hard to say no. Yeah. Had some come through the other day. They left one behind on account of it was lame.”

Raul asked, still with his hand over his mouth, “Do you know which way they went?”

“West,” answered the old man. “Grail. Now, if you kids are done, I’m going home.” He turned and walked east.

Beasley called after him, “Thank you.”

Sam sat beside Besh watching the news. They sat quietly as the stream repeated and the anchor recapped. “Again, Fort Aubrey has been attacked. At approximately four P. M., several surface-to-surface missiles struck the eastern barracks just inside the wall. Russland news sources confirm multiple casualties and extensive damage.” Sam waved off the monitor sound and leaned back on one hand. Besh, in a chair beside Sam’s bed, shook his head.

Raul and Beasley stood in the hall and knocked. Sam stood, stretched, and opened the door. Stepping aside, the Captain waved them in.

Raul said, “We got news, jefe.”

“As do we,” Said Besh.

Sam reclaimed his seat on the end of the bed. Raul pulled up the only other seat in the room, leaving Beasley to stand in disappointment. Raul leaned forward to speak dramatically.

“We found a horse at the edge of town,” he said with a smile that begged praise.

Beasley added, “A lame horse.”

Raul looked at Beasley with a frown, then returned to the Captain, saying, “Anyway, some old man said the Prince came through,” Raul sat back and spread his arms to conclude, “and we know where he's headed.”

Sam said, “I’mma smack you if you don’t get to the point.”

Raul’s shoulders dropped. “Jeez, Boss. Talk about ruining the moment.”

“Grail,” said Beasley. “They’re headed for Grail.”

“And there, you have it,” said Raul. “What’s your news?”

Sam leaned back on his hands and turned to face Besh. Besh cleared his throat and made the announcement. “We are now at war.”