There are several approved wargames for Roman recruits in training and there was nothing particularly out of the ordinary in the one that Druffus had planned for the troops at Aventicum. The entire garrison marched out of the north gate of the barracks through the shacks and tents of the civilians who provided all the services that a soldier might need. Once in the unobstructed fields, the legion formed up beside a ruined villa. The first five cohorts were declared to be the red army and wearing red armbands marched north towards a forest that had been much diminished over the years by the demand for firewood in the garrison town. The second five cohorts were the blue army and wearing blue armbands, they marched eastwards over ground that rose quite sharply from the level of the lake to the shoulders of several mountains.

It was mid-morning by the time the blue army gathered by cohort facing their commander. Two thousand, five-hundred soldiers. Since for this day the tribunes and the legate were acting as judges, the second level of command in the camp – the tribunes laticlavii – had been given an opportunity to test their leadership qualities. In charge of the blue team was Sextus Marinellus, the eldest son of Appius Marinellus, a senator who had survived in his position for some time by presenting himself as a buffoon and easy target for the Barbula siblings. Whether Appius was quite as stupid as he seemed to be is beyond my powers of discernment, but his son, while too delicate for serious military affairs was intelligent enough to listen to his subordinates and served out his time at Aventicum with some semblance of competence.

There was a light breeze on the hill slope, which stirred the long grasses enough to make it hard for Arthyr to hear what the young Roman commander was saying. Picked out by the sunshine, Sextus Marinellus was standing on a large rock, very visible to all, but his thin frame and shrill voice was not up to the task. And whether or not the commander’s words were important, Arthyr didn’t really care. He was basking in the pleasure of being outside the camp. Even though he was surrounded by iron-armoured soldiers the presence of majestic spirits in the tall mountains was filling him with pleasure.

There were dozens of pathways into Uffen from this mountainside, ones that shifted as rapidly as the blocks of sunlight that swept over the flower-strewn grass. Swift moving clouds looked down from above. Here, Arthyr could escape. Here, he was free again. Like a cat released from a cage, he felt like dashing away, never to return. If only he could. But there could be no homecoming for him in Betws-y-Coed unless he discharged the obligation of his people to the Romans.

The youth had finished speaking and Laurence turned to the rest of Nine-Ten and rubbed his hands together in a gesture that suggested he was warming them to be ready for some hard work. ‘Now mates, did you get that?’

Arthyr was not the only one who shook his head.

‘Today is our big day. Because the blue army is exposed on the hillside, we can’t split up and create offensive and defensive units the way we usually do in this game. The other side would see us coming and pick us off, section by section.

‘Instead, the blue army is going to gather together as one and defend our flag, while we scouts discover the location of the red flag. When we do, the entire blue army, marching with our flag protected in the centre, will march on the enemy and attempt to storm their flag defences.’

While Arthyr didn’t care in the least as to which team won the game, he did admire the enthusiasm of Laurence. The decanus clearly wanted to be on the winning side and was passionate about his responsibilities. ‘So you see, tentmates, it’s up to us. All your comrades here,’ he gestured to the units of infantry who were already moving off to set up lines facing the forest, ‘are going to be waiting on our success. Us and the scouts of the other four cohorts. This is our moment to shine. To show the army what proper scouting can achieve.’ Laurence beamed and several of the other scouts looked eager too.

‘Form up over by that rock,’ he pointed to a boulder twice Arthyr’s height, ‘while I co-ordinate with the other scouts.’

‘Perhaps I should stay behind with the soldiers,’ said Gaius. The former senator looked like a crab, a big red face peering out of a shell of ill-fitting leather armour that was too tight around his portly stomach and showed too much of a gap at his neck and at his thighs. A deeply unhappy crab. ‘I’ll only slow you down and give you away.’

Arthyr smiled and took the old man’s arm. ‘Come with us. You might find this an interesting experience and you won’t slow us down.’

Soon Laurence was back and with deft hand gestures and excitement in his eyes, indicated the plan for the contubernium: they were to march swiftly northwards along the mountain slopes, until they could turn west and use the cover of the banks of a fast-flowing stream to move to the forest unseen. Just as he ordered the unit to set off, Arthyr spoke up.

‘Decanus. Do I understand this game correctly? You want to find the red flag without us being seen?’

‘Haven’t you understood anything?’ Laurence said impatiently, but Arthyr only smiled.

‘Everyone hold hands,’ With his left hand, Arthyr reached out to Gaius and with his right to Runa, who flashed him a look of anxiety.

‘Is this magic Arthyr? That’s not the point of the exercise. We are testing our scouting skills.’

‘This IS my scouting skill. Hold hands. I’m taking you to Uffen, where the soldiers of the red team will not be able to see us.’

‘Oh, how splendid,’ exclaimed Gaius. ‘I’ve always wanted to see Tartarus for myself.’

At the same time Runa asked, ‘Is it safe?’

‘If you are with me.’

‘You swear this?’

‘By my family.’ And Arthyr really was confident. Many of the spirits nearby were well-disposed towards him, even the demons playing skittles with the rocks higher above.

‘Then let us cross.’ Runa took the hand of her friend and soon everyone but Laurence was in the circle.

The decanus was annoyed. ‘I’m your officer and I’m ordering to follow me. We have to do this properly.’

‘I’m crossing now. Touch someone or stay here without us.’

Without checking whether Laurence was going to join them or not, Arthyr studied the flow of light over the ground nearby. Then he lifted his head into the cool breeze, his hair stirring gently, strands touching his neck. Something else… where was it? A bee! A large, happy, black bee was weaving in and out of Uffen. And he was across.

Bringing the Romans into Uffen was harder than taking his friends of Betws-y-Coed through the barrier between the worlds. There was an unfamiliar weight upon him, like he was roped to a plough and had to strain into a harness. But all at once, the weight lifted.

The sky here was purple, the flowers indigo and violet. The bee was larger and was aware of Arthyr. He was in Uffen once more.

It was an unfortunate but understandable aspect to Arthyr’s nature that he was vain. His expression now was triumphant and expectant. And if he had hoped to impress his Roman comrades and perhaps, too, overawe them, then his hopes were certainly fulfilled in the case of Gaius, whose mouth was open with astonishment.

‘The colours here… seem richer. And it’s true what Polibius says, though I never gave it credit, there is a scent of magic in the air. I feel ten years younger.’ The senator bent down and plucked a flower that appeared to be identical to a buttercup, only blue. Laughing, he tipped his head back and placed the flower near his heavy jowls. ‘Look at the reflection, do I like blue cheese?’

When no one responded, he gathered himself with a mutter. ‘… game we played as children…’

Laurence was with them and he shook his head, his long, bound up locks of hair swinging to give the gesture additional emphasis. ‘I’m going to have to give a report tonight and I’m not going to defend you Arthyr; you disobeyed an order.’

‘The red team are in the forest?’ Much as Arthyr respected the decanus he really didn’t care about Roman rules. Nor did he feel in danger of being imprisoned again. Not while the empress needed him and Sapentia was around to prevent trouble.

The forest Arthyr was pointing to was a great deal bigger in size than the equivalent on Earth. Darker too. And there was something ominous in the stillness of the treetops: to Arthyr it seemed as though the whole forest were a giant spider that had suddenly stopped moving so as to focus more on its prey.

‘They are.’

‘Then let’s walk to the treeline and see if I can find an ally among the spirits here, one with the means and inclination to help us.’

At a stroll, one which he hoped presented no difficulties for their elderly companion, Arthyr led the way. Beside him, Gaius provided a commentary on the landscape, the sky, the colour of the sun, the sense of danger. The elderly man might not be a useful soldier, but he was an impressive scholar. Arthyr said little as he listened with interest to the quotations about Tartarus that Gaius remembered from the works of Roman historians and poets. The senator was comparing his reading with the real experience.

As they neared the first of the tall, black trees, Gaius pointed to a thin round tower that stood, lonely, on the ridge between two mountains. It was just a silhouette, but all the same, Arthyr felt a shudder as he looked at it and sensed the nature of the occupant.

‘That castle has no equivalent in our world,’ observed Gaius.

‘Fortunately not. It is home to a vampire and we must be gone from here and back to Uffen by sunset.’

‘You swore it was safe,’ growled Runa.

‘Not that Uffen is safe. But it would be safe to enter with me. And it is.’ Arthyr stopped and waited for the sulky-looking Laurence to catch up. ‘We should wait here. Going into that forest would break my oath.’

Although most of the trees ahead were severe and intimidating sycamores, there were a few oaks scattered among them and resident in one of them was a sylph. Arthyr could sense her interest in him.

‘No one move,’ he whispered over his shoulder. ‘Or make a sound.’

Carefully avoiding the most cantankerous sycamores, Arthyr moved away from the Romans and with a smile beckoned to the sylph. Giggling, she flowed towards him, her dress rustling like a flurry of leaves.

‘You are as lovely as the sun,’ she said; her eyes upon his were green and gold.

‘And you are as delicious as a refreshing shower on a hot summer day.’

Again, she giggled. Then looked swiftly over her shoulder. In the distance, another sylph was peering around the trunk of her tree and watching enviously.

‘What brings a Sí – such a handsome Sí – to the Forest of Forlorn Quests?’

‘A quest.’

They both laughed, then Arthyr continued. ‘There are Romans nearby on Earth. They have a flag that I desire.’

‘Romans?’ Her face grew long and a cloud seemed to come between them. ‘Speak to me not of Romans.’

‘Shall I speak then, of desire?’

‘Oh do.’ Now she cast a triumphant look in the direction of her sister, before turning her steady gaze back to Arthyr.

‘I desire you, like the oak desires light and rain. I desire you like the flowers, sensing the arrival of the morning sun, desire its spirit to envelop them. When I look at you, I am a river, wishing to pour itself into the sea.’

Again she giggled and yet there was an element of appraisal in her glance.

‘You must catch me th…’ but before the sylph could finish her sentence Arthyr had raised his hands and calling on the deep loyalty which ivy owed to his predecessors, had the vines growing around the oak tree wrap themselves around her legs. ‘You traitors!’ she exclaimed, although without any note of panic in her merry voice.

‘You are a powerful Sí, to so command my friends. You may have your desire.’ And she held out her hand to Arthyr, as if inviting him to release her and walk with her.

‘Alas, I cannot join you until I have fulfilled my geas.’

‘The Roman flag?’

‘A large red one, probably surrounded by Romans. Fetch it for me and I will come with you, until the sun is at the horizon at least. For neither you nor I would risk being abroad in these lands at dark.’

Serious now, the sylph shivered and her arms fell to her sides. ‘Then release me and I will be quick to return and help you complete your geas.’

Thanking the vines, Arthyr watched them slide back along the forest floor and embrace the oak again. When he looked up, the sylph was gone.

Returning carefully to the grass beyond the last of the sycamores, Arthyr was greeted by an eager Gaius. ‘That beautiful young woman, was she an elf? What did she say? Where did she go?’

‘A sylph. She is a sylph. And she has gone to Earth to fetch us the red flag.’

‘Why though?’ asked Gaius. ‘With what coin can you possibly pay a sylph?’

Arthyr laughed. ‘She would not be interested in coin. Nor jewels or fine silk. She is a spirit of the woods and lives for pleasure.’

‘Oh, I see. Pleasure.’ Gaius didn’t look directly at Arthyr; he didn’t seem to know where to look.

‘Can we move around Arthyr? I’d like to collect some rocks and plants that we don’t see on Earth,’ a recruit whose name Arthyr didn’t know asked the question.

‘Take no more than ten steps away from here, and not towards that sycamore. It will seek to harm you.’

All the soldiers, with the exception of Runa and her friend from the north, started searching the ground around them. It was almost understandable, thought Arthyr, that if you were in Uffen for the first time, you might take particular interest in what seems unusual and perhaps too, bring back some items to boast with later in the barracks mess.

As he was watching carefully, to protect his companions from the hazards of Uffen, a blink of red caused him to turn back to the forest, and there was the sylph, waving the flag as though it were caught on the branch of a tree in a strong wind.

‘That was the deed of a hero,’ said Arthyr upon reaching her, ‘and so swiftly done too.’

Her lips formed a sneer. ‘They have no wards and none were even close. There were a dozen Romans nearby, with cudgels of hazel and nets, all facing away from their precious flag.’

The sylph passed the red cloth to Arthyr and he hurried back out of the forest to hand it on to Laurence.

The decanus was astonished and looked from Arthyr to the flag and back. ‘I should berate you. And yet Sextus Marinellus and the army will enjoy this and the humiliation of the reds.’

‘Then take it to them as soon as I have returned you to Earth. For my part, I must stay here until sunset, for I have incurred a new debt that I must discharge.’

‘Oh, poor you,’ muttered Runa, ‘such an onerous task to discharge.’

‘Will you be safe?’ asked Gaius, ‘what about the vampire?’

‘I will, for I will not stay beyond sunset.’

As his comrades hurried up the hill, back once more in the sunshine of the bright day on Earth, Arthyr felt more than a twinge of regret that he was not the one displaying the flag, as Laurence was, to the repeated roars of the Romans of the blue team. The soldiers on the hill were gathered in their ranks and they were beating their shields with their swords. Such adulation appealed to Arthyr very much.

But it would not do to scorn the expectations of the sylph and turn her and her sisters into bitter enemies. Even though he was not as rigorous about the proper rituals as was Merilyn, Arthyr knew better than to abandon his responsibilities after such a bargain. And after all, as Runa had appreciated, his responsibilities were not too onerous.