Otho’s head snapped up from the list at the final words and Ursus blanched under the withering stare. “I meant the ex-emperor, of course, sir,” he countered quickly.
“Relax, Ursus. I’m on edge, that is all. To be frank, this all went a little too easily. It worries me that I may have missed something. There is something I have not taken into account.”
Ursus seized the chance to redeem himself and rushed to reassure the man behind the desk.
“Sir, you hold the throne, you have the military might in Rome and also the whole of Italy. The nearest legions are in Greece and Germania and as we know, the 11th and 8th are struggling to hold their own against our new friends.
“The situation is under control, the men are containing the threat until you are ready for them to end it. I struggle to see what can stop you now.”
“Us, Ursus, nothing can stop us. Still, I am tempted to have the men contain the new threat and to bring the senators back together. I balk at my own timetable. How do the people fair on the streets? Has life ground to a halt as I desired?”
Ursus nodded. “Sir, the people have emptied the streets. It took a while for the message to spread but it has been hammered home now. We are guessing that the numbers of Risen have increased due to adding victims to their ranks but with the traps and our men, we can end the threat in a matter of hours, all we need is a word from you.”
Otho considered this for a moment and then shook his head.
“No, Ursus. Let the people sit in their homes and feel the fear for a while longer. I don’t wish to appear impatient.”
Vitus returned to the house of Domitius to find preparations for an evening meal underway.
In order to accommodate the number of people in the house, the usual couches and low tables had been forgone in favour of a large table in the back room of the house. Large bowls of food were being set out for people to serve themselves. Female slaves bustled around finishing the preparations, while Fulvia gave instructions.
The Doctor came straight to the door and pulled Lee and his mother into an embrace. He spoke to the woman briefly then turned to Vitus.
Lee translated for his grandfather.
He said, “My grandfather would like to shake your hand for the service you have done for the Chin family, Vitus. He has asked me to tell you that his name is Chin Naoki, and that he is in your debt.”
Vitus turned to the old man and shook his hand, while also shaking his head.
“Lee, tell Chin Naoki that I am honoured to meet him and that there is no debt. Tell him that my friend still lives because of his skill and kindness. Anything I did for him and his family is scant return for the service he performed for me.”
Vitus looked the old man in the eye while he said this. He waited while Lee translated for his grandfather and eventually Chin Naoki smiled broadly. He reached forward and took Vitus’ hand for a second time, bowing slightly at the waist as he did.
Vitus smiled back at the old man before turning to Lee once more, “Is it acceptable to ask your mother's name?”
Lee smiled, “You just saved her life, Vitus, her name is the least you can ask of her. It is Chin Handan.”
Vitus knelt down beside the boy and spoke in a low voice, despite the fact that the old man could neither understand him or hear him, as he had left the room.
“I notice your mother has the same family name as her father, do your women not take their husband's name?”
Lee laughed, louder than Vitus might have liked. For a ten year old boy he had an insight that made Vitus feel transparent.
“My mother never married. The local lord started to pay her too much attention in the old village. My grandfather could not stop him, so they left. It was after they left that my mother realised that I was to be born.” He said all this like it was old family history rather than something that had happened to his own mother.
“I’m sorry, Lee. I didn’t mean to pry into your family's business, It was rude of me.”
Lee laughed again, “It is fine, Vitus, we are friends. You saved my mother's life by bringing her here. I hope one day I can save your life, in return.”
The boy held Vitus’ gaze with a maturity and frankness that outshone his years. “Besides, I am the son of a lord. I will also return to the village of my grandfather one day and revenge the disrespect my father showed my mother.”
Vitus took the boy by the shoulder and chuckled. “You know, Lee, I really believe you will.”
The two of them turned at an excited shout from upstairs. A female voice was obviously happy about something, but Vitus was unable to make out the words above the other noises in the house. He moved past Lee to the bottom of the stairs and looked up to see Lucia standing and looking down at him.
“He’s awake! Regulus is awake.”
Vitus took the stairs two at a time and took her in a tight embrace before following her along the landing to the bedroom where Regulus lay in bed.
The boy was pale and small-looking but awake, as Lucia had said. He had a weak smile on his face as his eyes found Vitus.
“Well, at least my eyes are still working, you’re still ugly, sir.” Regulus’ voice sounded small and weak, but the humour sounded genuine and it made Vitus smile.
“Ugly I may be, archer but I’m still better looking than you and more clever, as well. How are you feeling? Has anyone told you what has happened?”
“Sir, the last thing I really remember was that we were walking through an alleyway in Mutina and then I woke up here, have I been unconscious all that time?”
“No, you walked or rode most of the way from Mutina to Rome, but you took a hefty blow to the head. You were getting worse all the way and the doctor barely saved your life.
“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t been here but he took away part of your skull or something. He says you will have a soft part on your head forever, I told him you have always been soft headed.”
Vitus sat down on the chair next to the bed and put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder. “You’re lucky to be alive. We owe the owner of the house a lot and the doctor even more. He’s worked a bloody miracle on you.
“Now how do you really feel? There might be some serious trouble coming. I will tell you everything you’ve missed but I think the doctor should get a look at you first.”
“Sir, I feel like my head has been sat on by Antonius.” Regulus began to laugh but a dark look crossed his face. “He died, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he died. In Mutina, those fucking dead things got him.” Vitus squeezed Regulus’ shoulder again, “We will have a drink to him when you’re better, until then concentrate on getting well. I’m going to need you soon.”
There was a voice behind Vitus and he turned to see Chin Naoki and Lee standing in the doorway.
“My grandfather says he is pleased to see your friend awake. We were not sure he would ever speak again.”
“He has performed a service I can never repay,” Regulus said from his place in the bed.
Lee spoke to Naoki once more and the old man replied.
“He says to see you healthy will be payment enough. You are to stay in bed for as long as you can. Eat well and sleep as much as you are able. He would like to examine you, if you are feeling up to it.’
Regulus nodded and Vitus excused himself from the room. Outside, he saw Lucia and Fulvia waiting for him. They both looked anxious and in that moment the family resemblance was stronger than ever.
“He’s fine,” said Vitus, and both women broke into smiles. “He’s fit enough to be making jokes, and that is all I need to know for now.”
Lucia had a tear in her eye and a smile on her face as Vitus left the two women and headed down stairs. He wanted to report to Domitius and hear any news the praetor might have heard while Vitus was out on the streets.
He reached the hallway at the bottom as Paulus was walking through, carrying a tray of dishes and glasses.
“Where is your master, Paulus?” Vitus asked him.
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The man servant nodded towards the study door without speaking. He continued into the backroom where the meal was being prepared.
Domitius bid him enter after the first knock and motioned for him to sit.
“I’m glad to see you back in one piece, Vitus. Did you rescue the young woman?” He asked.
“Yes, we saw a little trouble but Rome is a big place and there can’t be too many Risen on the streets, at least not yet.”
“That’s good. We should be able to stay indoors for the remaining time and then we must hope that Otho’s confidence in his men is justified.” Domitius looked strained.
“His men are the best in the legions. They outnumber the Risen greatly. Assuming their orders are good enough, they should be able to remove the threat from the streets without too much trouble,” Vitus reassured the older man.
“I hope you’re right, Vitus. The real trouble is apt to start when the streets are clear once more. We have a zealot to contend with and no way that we can hope to match his force. I fear the damage he can do to the empire, and to Rome itself.”
Vitus took a second to compose himself, wishing his next words to truly express his concerns.
“Sir, I have a greater worry than that of Rome. Mutina fell quickly and totally. The Risen are spreading, unchecked, in the empire.
“Every day we are dealing with Otho, is a day that the decisions that need to be made are being forgotten. We need the legions in Italy, where they can defend our cities and towns but now that the emperor is dead, there is no-one to give those orders.
“Otho seems far more concerned with the fate of his push for power, than having an empire to rule at the end of all this.” Vitus paused to think how to word his next point.
“What are you driving at, Vitus? Speak plainly. I am your friend,” Domitius said, leaning forward in his seat.
“Sir, should we be fighting Otho at all? Would it not be better for the empire to give the man what he wants, in order to be able to move against the Risen?
“If we stand in his way, we may find ourselves in a civil war, and at the end of that war the world we know may be gone.” Vitus sat and waited for the praetor's reaction.
“You say that before this all started, you were a rank and file archer?” Domitius asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Are all the soldiers in the legions as wise as you, Vitus?” Domitius asked, sitting back in his chair and tapping his fingers together.
“I don’t know about wise, sir. All I know is that I have seen the damage the Risen were able to inflict on a city that wasn’t expecting them. They were unprepared and totally outmatched.
“The city burned and the garrison was overrun. If we don’t move against the Risen, and soon, we could see every town and city in Italy fall the same way.
“There is only one man with the power and authority to move against the Risen and at this moment, it is Otho. I know he took power by force, but if the history lessons my father gave me were true, then so did half of the leaders we’ve ever had.”
Vitus stopped and looked at the older man’s face. Judging how his words had been taken.
“I fear you are right, Vitus. I have sat here and thought over all the possibilities and I fear you have hit the nail on the head. I don’t like it. In fact, I hate the idea of that oaf sitting on the throne but it may be the only chance we have of defeating the Risen.”
Vitus looked at the praetor and saw doubt on his face. “I sense there is more to it than that though, sir?”
“There always is in Rome, Vitus. There are too many powerful men who will lose too much, just to roll over and let Otho take control without a fight.
“You heard him, he intends to gut the senate and strangle the power of those that are left. These men will do all in their power to thwart Otho’s plans. Even if they can’t stop him, they will make his life as difficult as possible.
“I have to say, I am still tempted to join them, despite everything we have just said. Do we sell our principles in order to give a tyrant the power to protect us? I don’t have the answer but my heart tells me that we have to fight Otho. How can we trust that, if we give him the power he craves, that he will ever act in our best interests or those of Rome?”
Vitus looked across the table at his new friend and smiled.
“You called me wise a moment ago, Domitius. I’m not wise, I'm just a soldier. If we fight Otho then lives will be lost, but you’re right, we have to. At a time like this we need a man we can trust and Otho is not that man. Giving in to him would be the easy thing and I’m sorry for ever thinking of it.”
Domitius stood and held out his hand to Vitus. The centurion took it in the legionary grip.
“I don’t know what the next few days will bring, but I’m glad to have you at my side, Vitus,” Domitius said.
“Sir, I’m honoured to be here,” Vitus replied with a hard grin on his face.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The morning of the third day since Otho released the Risen on Rome dawned as most spring days, warm and dry. The sun, bright as it rose above the taller buildings, held promise of warmer hours to come.
The city was silent, devoid of life on the streets. Only death stalked the usually busy market places. The Forum, the hub of life in Rome, was completely deserted except for the shambling, living dead.
With no prey in sight they wandered aimlessly, incapable of rational thought, they reacted only to what they saw and heard.
The people of Rome had long since barricaded themselves in their homes and so the dead wandered. Not even the most adventurous youths had dared the streets after seeing the Risen for themselves.
None but fools could mistake their mindlessness for helplessness. These were killing machines, incapable of feeling pain or remorse, driven only by hunger and the need to kill. Snapped from lethargy by the slightest sign of prey, they became hunters, capable of speed and raw strength.
Garic the butcher watched the passage of the dead through the gap in the shutters of his first floor windows. They seemed to have gathered into larger groups as their prey had vanished from the streets. The group that passed his modest home was more than a dozen in number, men and women in various states of decay.
One man had an arm missing, seemingly torn from its socket, leaving a ragged mess of flesh behind. A woman who followed him trailed a length of her insides behind her. Garic knew from a thousand butchered pigs and lambs that the rope that followed her were her intestines. The wound that had opened her up was huge, exposing her ribcage along one side, still she walked, seemingly unaware of her injury. Even the butcher felt his stomach retch at the sight of these dead creatures.
The group passed and Garic turned to his wife. She sat in the corner and cuddled their infant son.
No amount of reassurance from Garic had calmed her on the first day the monsters had appeared. She had been hysterical. Garic had been terrified that the constant crying and screaming would attract the dead, but her wails had blended into the background noise of the panicking city. Since then, she had slumped into a morose state of wordless stupor.
Garic had managed to feed her a little food, and that was good. She refused to let go of their son Tulius. Garic had tried to free the boy from her grasp, but he had been as determined to cling to his mother as she was to him. In the end the butcher had let them find solace in each other's arms.
Now though, the time was coming where Garic was beginning to panic himself. Two whole days had passed since the creatures had appeared and still no-one came to help them. No legionaries on the street and no sign of when they might come.
Garic had tried to talk to his neighbours but to no avail. The family next door had not been home in two days and the old man who lived alone in the apartment above them knew nothing. He hadn’t even opened his door, just shouted until Garic had given up and come back downstairs.
Options, or lack of them, turned over in his mind. Should he gather his family and try to run? He turned to
look at his wife, for what seemed the thousandth time, and the idea died before it formed.
She was incapable of running anywhere. Even if they did, Garic could not trust that she wouldn’t start screaming again and attract the Risen.
Should he try to organise men to fight the creatures? He had friends, men he would drink with at the local inns. That was all they were though, drinking mates. He didn’t really know them, or where they lived.
The streets weren’t safe for him to go out knocking on doors, hoping to persuade people to join him. He was as likely to be mistaken for one of the dead and killed. Even young Marcus, brave as he was, had run from the dead, and Garic had no idea where the boy had gone.
There was a sound, faint even in the silence of the city. Garic craned his neck to see what was causing it but his shutters only allowed him a view of the street in front of his home. The noise appeared to be coming from further along the street and he listened hard to make out what was happening.
After a moment the noise grew louder and Garic made out voices and the sounds of marching feet. Maybe not marching, on second thought, the steps were not regular enough to be those of the legions. He dared himself to open the shutter and slipped his head out to see what was occurring.
Maybe two dozen men were walking up the center of the road, brandishing an array of weapons. Some carried kitchen knives and more than one had a table leg or stave of wood. There were a couple who were dressed in old military armour and carried gladius swords.
At the center of the group were a couple of men who were dressed in the newest armour. They appeared to be leading the group who were making enough noise to attract the attention of any Risen in the vicinity.
Garic felt his heart hammer as he realised this must be the start of a fight back against the monsters. He turned to look back at his wife and son once more.
Legion of the Undead Page 25