55
‘So you saved his life, then tried to kill him?’ Titus greeted me as I entered the building that served as the centre of his black-market racket. It was quiet, a few groups of off-duty soldiers and archers playing dice or talking over watered-down wine.
‘I don’t really remember,’ I answered honestly.
The man let out a snort, taking in the injuries I had sustained myself, my century having had to beat me into unconsciousness to put an end to my swinging fists and gnashing teeth.
‘Do you think he’ll see me?’
‘Doesn’t have a choice. He’s not running fast in the state he’s in.’ Titus smiled darkly. He then offered a shrug of his huge shoulders. ‘Girls make us do daft things.’
‘He should never have used her like that,’ I argued, feeling the anger tighten my chest as I thought of Linza being put in danger.
‘You known many women?’ Titus asked, catching me off guard. ‘If you had, you’ll know it’s not us who pulls the strings. Look at her.’ He gestured across the room towards Metella. ‘I could get into business with anyone, Felix, but I do it with her.’
‘Why?’
‘Because one way or another, she’d get what she wanted. Better I’m cut in on it.’
‘You and her, are …?’ I asked, a little surprised.
‘No!’ the man scoffed. ‘But they see things we don’t. The gods made us different for a reason. If it was just about fucking we’d have our own dick and hole, wouldn’t we? It’s about this,’ he explained, slapping me across the head and grinning. ‘You’ve got some miles on you, Felix, but you’re still a clueless bastard. Come on.’ He gestured. ‘Let’s go see him.’
Titus led me through a door into a storeroom that was stacked high with engineering supplies. There was a brazier set in its centre, and around the warming flames were the shapes of Brando, Micon and the shrouded figure of Stumps.
‘You made some mess of him,’ Titus remarked as if it were a casual observation.
I looked at my friend, seeing his eyes dark and his lips swollen.
‘Looks like an eastern whore with his eyes like that.’ Titus smiled, gently easing the mood. ‘Sit down, Felix.’
I could not. ‘Stumps …’
‘It’s all right,’ he mumbled from between his thick lips. ‘I know why you did it.’
I sat then, heavily, facing my friend, forcing myself to meet his forgiving eyes.
‘You two.’ I sensed Titus gesture to the other men. ‘Come help me set up for tonight.’
And so we were left alone. The silence held for a long time, and within it, my self-recrimination grew.
‘I think I love her,’ I eventually offered as my defence.
My friend tried to smile. ‘I worked that out when you stuck my head through the bunk frame.’
He chuckled then. I was a second from following, but then I saw him wince in pain, and shame fell heavily upon me.
‘She reminds me of someone,’ I told him, anxious for him to know why I had behaved the way I had against him. ‘I don’t know if I love her, or if it’s the old love. Does that make sense?’
‘Course it makes sense. But Linza’s a great girl in her own right. I’m sure it’s that,’ he offered.
I knew that I had to tell him more. It was a duty to a friend. A debt I had to pay for my crime against him. And yet the words stuck in my throat like the barbs of arrows. My chest tightened, and my head swam.
‘I couldn’t protect the last one,’ I confessed, letting my chin drop.
For a moment Stumps said nothing. I hoped that my admission would be enough for him to understand why I had reacted with so much rage to seeing Linza placed in harm’s way.
‘Felix, I’m not saying this to start trouble, but I need to tell you because I would never put someone you love in danger.’
I lifted my gaze.
‘It was Linza’s idea, Felix. Not mine. I’d never do that to you.’
I struggled to accept the words. They sounded almost like a betrayal.
‘It was her idea?’ I finally said.
Stumps nodded, wincing at the pain from his bruised spine. ‘When we went to get the rations. I just wanted to humour her a bit. She’d cooked up the idea with another of the Batavian girls. It was her I sent to get Albus, and you. I thought he’d bring the whole century, the twat,’ he added with a curse.
‘Why would she do that?’ I asked, suddenly uncertain that my friend was telling me the truth.
‘Put yourself in her position,’ Stumps urged. ‘Her husband’s missing, Felix. Which, let’s be honest, means he’s dead in the forest. She’s got no control over that.
‘Then there’s an army at the walls, and she’s days away from getting raped to death. She’s got no control over that. All right, the hairy bastards have pulled back now, but we’re still cut off. She’s got no control over that.’
‘And then the killings in the fort,’ I whispered, beginning to understand.
‘Exactly. Imagine it. She’s got no control over any part of her life, but she’s a fucking strong girl. She’s a fucking fighter. She found a way she could hit back.’
‘You still shouldn’t have let her do it,’ I accused.
‘Let her?’ He laughed. ‘If you think you can control this girl, then you’re in for some sleepless nights. The bad kind,’ he added with a wry smile.
I said nothing. Instead I thought back over Stumps’s explanation. Of course he was right. Linza was no one’s to control, and she was a fighter. Those were the qualities that had pulled me into love once more, and so why should I be surprised by them?
‘You just don’t like other people sticking their necks out,’ Stumps piped up, reading my face and thoughts. ‘You’re obsessed with control, Felix.’
I shook my head. ‘I’m not.’
‘You are,’ he insisted. ‘Dangerous mission? Yes please. Suicidal mission? Oh yes. Trying to keep everyone else from danger except you? Oh, shit, yes!’
‘It’s not that …’
‘I remember your face when you found me on that raid, like I had betrayed you by going. You tried to keep Brando and Folcher from them too, I know.’
‘And look what happened to Folcher,’ I countered.
‘Ha! There! See? There it is. You think you can save everyone, you daft old bastard.’
‘I don’t,’ I told him, remembering the day when that truth had been taught to me.
‘Well, you try to,’ my friend told me gently.
He was right, I realized then. He was right. It all began with her, and my failure to keep her safe. As if a bandage was unravelling before my eyes, the purpose of all my later actions began to show clear.
‘You want to tell me about her?’ my comrade offered with a smile.
‘I do,’ I admitted.
But then I heard a door crash open, and the rasp of blades being drawn.
Stories would have to wait.
We were under attack.
56
I moved quickly to the door, holding a finger to my mouth to silence any question from Stumps. Outside, I heard the bark of challenge. Of command.
The voices were Roman.
‘Lie face down on the floor!’ one voice shouted. ‘Hands away from your weapons! Face down!’
I suddenly realized that it was a raid, not an attack. There was scant relief in that fact, because we were on grounds that – though tolerated until now – broke legion law. More than this, my friend Titus was the architect of the flagrant flaunting of regulations.
‘It’s a raid,’ I mouthed to Stumps, who hadn’t moved from his position.
Courses of action ran through my mind as I listened to the sound of barked orders and furniture being turned on its head. Black markets and drinking holes had existed within the legions for as long as the eagle standards had been carried, and the clampdowns that came against them were a periodic reminder from the hierarchy not to overstep. As such, I wasn’t particularly worried about our physical safety
– I was certain that our punishment for being caught in such a place would be nothing more severe than extra work duties on some unsavoury task. I was about to suggest to Stumps that we walk out openly, until I heard one voice raised above the others.
‘Get them lined up against the wall.’
Malchus. I looked at Stumps, who had turned ashen as he heard the murderer’s voice, and for good reason: Malchus would use any opportunity to break the man who had held a javelin to his throat.
I quickly searched our surroundings. The sole window was high, and would have been a struggle for Stumps to reach even if he were fully fit. As it was, I had beaten my friend to the point where he moved like a cripple.
‘Over here,’ I mouthed silently.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Help me move these.’ I gestured to stacks of pick-helves on a shelf; then I started lifting the bundled tool handles and placing them gently on the floor.
‘Why?’
‘Just do it,’ I urged.
It took only moments to clear the space that I needed.
‘You’re going in there,’ I told my friend.
‘Have you lost your head?’
I didn’t answer. The voices outside were growing nearer. With a sour look, Stumps pulled himself into the cleared space.
‘Felix—’ he tried, but I was already piling the bundles of wooden handles back in front of the man, my heart beating faster as the angry calls from the outside dropped away. It was the signal that they had gathered together their culprits, and that they would now begin searching. I hurried to place the last bundle of helves on to the shelves, and then lunged for the brazier, desperate to distance myself from my comrade’s concealment.
The door opened a moment later: two soldiers. They held wooden staves in their hands. They had come to beat, not to kill.
‘Who are you?’ the older of the pair asked.
‘Friend of the quartermaster’s,’ I answered. ‘We were Seventeenth together.’
‘You one of the ones that got out of the forest?’ the younger man asked, interested.
I nodded.
‘What was it like?’
I had no time to reply as the older of the pair waved the question away.
‘Come with us,’ he ordered me. ‘Anyone else with you?’
‘No. I was having a drink here and waiting for him to come back. I heard the noise outside and thought it better to wait here.’
‘Smart bloke,’ the veteran conceded. ‘We did have to crack a few heads in there. No need for that if you play along though.’
‘Of course,’ I answered earnestly before placing my hands on my head and walking towards the pair. They moved to the side of the door, and as I passed between them I saw the effect of Malchus’s raid – not one piece of furniture was left unturned, and with their noses against a wall were the twenty or so men and women who had been enjoying wine and dice until the doors had crashed open.
‘Over to the wall,’ the older of the pair instructed me.
‘You,’ I heard growled then. ‘Why the fuck are you here?’
Malchus again. His predatory eyes had fallen on me instantly.
‘I was with the QM in the Seventeenth, sir,’ I explained. ‘The same century.’
Malchus’s jaw jutted out as he bit back and accepted my reason. I reached the wall, my nose pressing into the cold wood.
‘All of you,’ Malchus then ordered. ‘Turn around.’
We complied. The tall centurion was flanked by two dozen men of his own century. Standing beside him was a soldier I recognized as one of Titus’s doormen.
‘Who runs it?’ Malchus demanded.
The doorman’s hand began to raise.
‘You fucking snitch!’ a voice called out, only to be silenced with a blow of the wooden handles, the sound like slapping leather.
‘Keep your mouths shut!’ one of Malchus’s veterans barked, as much of a hound as his leader.
‘Point them out,’ Malchus snapped. The doorman’s hand raised again. As his finger indicated each target, a pair of soldiers came forwards to pull the accused from the line-up, and bound the culprit’s wrists behind their backs.
Plancus was the first, the man’s pathetic hobbling drawing a grimace from Malchus. Next came Metella, her head back and indignant. Finally, Titus was fingered as one of the racket’s three ringleaders.
‘Centurion,’ Titus greeted the cohort commander in a voice as calm as a dead sea. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you here. Your lads have been quite the regulars.’
Malchus scoffed, showing his disinterest in how his men spent their time. ‘So the quartermaster’s bent?’ he said instead. ‘Who’d have fucking thought it.’
‘Just trying to make a living, sir,’ Titus appealed, strong man to strong man. ‘Happy to help others make theirs.’
Malchus smiled darkly then. It was a terrible thing to see. ‘I couldn’t give a fuck if every man gambles away their last coin,’ he said, approaching Titus. ‘But there’s one thing I won’t put up with,’ he added calmly. ‘And that’s being fed FUCKING DOG MEAT!’
The sudden blows landed a second later. Against Titus’s thick muscle and skull, they sounded like artillery hitting stone battlements. The big man had the sense to go down.
‘Feeding me fucking dog?’ the centurion snarled, standing over him. ‘Putting dog on the plate of the FUCKING PREFECT? Are you out of your minds, you greedy bastards?’
From the floor, Titus spat blood and words. ‘Plancus!’ He roared. ‘I’ll fucking kill you!’
Every set of eyes turned towards the stooped veteran – there was no disguising the look of guilt that hung over his weathered face.
‘You cunt!’ Metella roared, charging for the man.
It took four soldiers to hold her back. As she was restrained, Malchus watched her struggle with a smile. Then he turned to a veteran beside him.
‘No need for names and units of the others in here. Just rough them up a bit, but not enough that anyone has to miss a duty.’
‘Yes sir,’ the veteran replied, before stepping forwards to carry out the order. ‘You heard the boss.’
He then addressed those of us standing against the wall. ‘Just suck it up and we’ll be done in a second. Now face the wall,’ he commanded and, like well-trained animals, we turned our backs, and tightened our muscles against what was to come.
The punishment arrived a moment later, the wooden stave crashing against my hamstrings, pain singing through my legs and into my back. Anxious to avoid a second blow I dropped to my knees, submitting to the legion’s discipline, and the power that it held over every part of my life.
‘You’re done,’ the veteran announced after a second blow had landed. My punishment received, I pushed myself up on to throbbing legs. The beating had been merciful, and yet as I looked around me, I now felt nothing but sickness and fear in my stomach.
Because Titus was gone.
57
Titus was not the only familiar face missing – Metella and Plancus had disappeared with Malchus and his soldiers, and that could only mean that there was further punishment planned for the ringleaders. Titus would certainly lose his rank, but beyond that? I had no more time to think on it.
‘Brando,’ I called. ‘Micon. Come help me.’
They followed me into the engineering equipment room, puzzled at first as to why I was pulling the bundles of staves from the shelves.
Stumps smiled with relief as he saw our faces. ‘I’m quite comfortable in here. Shut me back in and let me sleep.’
We said nothing. Levity slipped from our friend’s voice as he recognized the warning signs.
‘Titus?’ he asked, immediately worried.
‘And Metella and Plancus.’
‘Shit,’ Stumps groaned, gasping as we uncoiled him from his hiding place and placed him on the ground. ‘Gone with Malchus? That can’t be good.’
There was no reply to be made to that.
‘What can we do?’ he as
ked.
‘I don’t know,’ I told him honestly. ‘But we’ve got the walls tonight. If we don’t report for duty, we’re in bigger shit than Titus.’
‘We could talk to Albus? Maybe he’ll do something?’ Brando asked.
‘He’ll do nothing.’ I was certain. ‘He just wants an easy life.’
And so it proved when we returned to the barrack block.
‘Centurion Albus wants to see you,’ the century’s young runner summoned me.
‘Felix,’ Albus greeted me in his quarters. ‘Look, this is nothing personal,’ he then began. ‘I know you’ve got shitloads of experience, but you were the last one here to get made up to section commander, and we’re half a century. I need to consolidate the sections, and so you guys will go into what will now be Two Section, under Livius. The good news is that it’s just the three of you. I pulled some strings and got your mate Stumps back into the quartermaster’s.’ Albus smiled, unaware that Titus was now likely in chains.
‘Thanks, sir,’ I muttered, my mind elsewhere. Albus took my indifference for offence.
‘It really is nothing personal,’ he insisted. ‘But last in, first out. I can’t be fairer than that.’
‘It’s fine, sir,’ I told him. ‘I’ll get our kit moved across before watch.’
‘No need for that.’ He waved my suggestion away. ‘We’re only a half-century, so may as well use the space we’ve got. Just pop your head in and link with Livius.’
I did. Livius was an athletic-looking soldier in his mid-twenties. From the little that I had seen of him, he seemed capable. He was also acute enough to smell the salt on me, and know that I was as experienced as any man in the fort.
‘I think there’s a lot I can learn from you.’ The man had smiled, attempting to soften the blow of my demotion.
I couldn’t have cared less for the loss of position. My mind was pulled in every other direction within the fort – what was happening to Titus? Where was Linza, and what was she thinking? Was she thinking about me, and if so, in what manner?
I got the answer to at least one of these questions as I stood watch on the darkness of the battlements, the German cold whipping across my skin and tugging at the scarf I had pulled tight about my face.
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