Avenging Varus Part II

by R. W. Peake

  “Gnaeus!”

  I spun to my right to see Miriam, darting between the tables, but it was what she was carrying in her hands that were most important, and the instant I was facing her, with the pugio in her right hand, she swung the blade down with a perfect aim, the blade striking the rope in the gap between my wrists I had managed to stretch out, severing my bonds, then in the next motion, she tossed the gladius she held in her left hand to me. Through no fault of her own, she had managed to throw it hilt first, although it was still in its scabbard, but I fumbled to catch it, partially because my hands were still numb, the scabbard bouncing off my left hand and forcing me to bend over to snatch it before it could hit the floor with my right. Ironically, this error saved my life, because Rat Face, obviously seeing me crush Prixus’ face, had launched himself at me, with a pugio held out and to his side, which I assume he intended to thrust into my body somewhere. Because of my sudden movement, however, the blade stabbed nothing but air, and Rat Face had put his weight behind his lunge, sending him stumbling right in front of me, giving me a perfect opportunity for an easy kill. Unfortunately, although I had managed to grab the scabbard before it hit the floor, it was with my right hand, and the manner in which I had snatched it placed the hilt off to my right, out of reach of my left hand while the end of the scabbard was pointed in Rat Face’s direction. Consequently, I used the scabbard as a weapon, jabbing the end at the other man, and because he was bent over at the waist, the brass fitting at the end of the scabbard slammed into the side of his head. It was not a particularly powerful blow, for me, but it sent him sprawling across a table, and before he could recover, I had shifted my grip on the scabbard, drawn the gladius belonging to my great-grandfather, then used it, launching a thrust into Rat Face’s back just underneath his rib cage before he could straighten up. The shriek of agony he let out was certainly loud, but it did not last long; I suspect that it was because of the point puncturing one of his lungs, judging from the wheezy quality, but I did not twist the blade and was already moving a couple of steps to where Prixus lay on his back, moaning softly and rolling side to side as he clutched his crushed face, which meant he did not see the thrust I aimed for his throat, thrusting the point down in between his arms. I barely glanced at him, because I was trying to locate Gaius and to get an idea of what was happening in a wider sense. Aroborix had advanced more deeply into the room off to my right, where he was exchanging blows with a man who was about Prixus’ size, and given his position in the room, I assumed he was the shadowy figure I had spotted in the corner of the room off to my right when I had been seated. Unsurprisingly, Gaius was not anywhere near his table, but the sounds behind me forced me to abandon my search for my uncle, and I spun about to see that Septimus, Alex, and Bellicanus were surrounded by more than a half-dozen men, although I saw two bodies lying at their feet. Miriam was in between me and the others, facing me, and I strode over to her first.

  “Are you all right?” we both asked simultaneously, and to my delighted surprise, even in this moment, my aunt actually had the presence of mind to laugh, while I asked her, “Did you see where Gaius went?”

  She shook her head but pointed to the far corner behind me now. “The last time I saw him, he was heading in that direction.”

  This was all the time I could spare, telling her curtly to keep an eye on that part of the room, although if she took offense at my tone, she never mentioned it, and I moved past her, heading to the knot of men clustered around the doorway. A cursory glance informed me that this group of Gaius’ muscle had entered through the doorway, probably as part of Gaius’ plan to catch his brother and those with him between Prixus, Rat Face, the man who Aroborix was engaging, and this bunch. My hope was to get close enough to fall on the rear of Gaius’ men to dispatch at least one of them, but Fortuna deemed that it was time for one of them to glance over his shoulder, doing essentially the same thing I had been doing, checking for a threat to the rear. He gave a shout, but I was already moving, although I was slowed because I had to weave a path through the tables and chairs; I very briefly considered leaping up onto one of the tables to give me the advantage of higher ground, but discarded it within less than an eyeblink, certain that it would collapse just like the chair. Instead, I came at the man, who might have been the former Rat Face’s brother, and before I had taken two steps closer, I not only knew he was a dead man, but how it would happen. Since he was about to die, I never had the opportunity to find out, but I am fairly certain that he was a fan of the gladiatorial games yet had never actually been trained for combat in the sand, because he was holding his weapon, oddly enough a trident favored by the retiarii, far out from his body and higher than we would ever allow, in a style that is favored by gladiators because it is showy and pleases the crowd. The shaft of his trident had been sawed off because, I suppose, that made it better suited for the type of back alley fighting this man did, but he had never faced a Centurion of Rome. And, with a feinted first position thrust that he overcommitted to, enabling me to swing my blade around and over the trident he never would as I ended his life with a thrust to the side of his throat. Honestly, he presented more of a problem in death because he dropped to his knees, but not before he had taken a step to his left, blocking the most direct path to his comrades, cutting me off and forcing me to move around him and the table next to him. This gave one of this man’s comrades the opportunity to step away from where Gaius’ remaining men, or so I assumed, were flailing away at Septimus, Alex, and Bellicanus, who, at least to my eye in the fraction of time I had, did not appear to be very committed to our cause, seemingly content to block and parry the thrusts and swings that had to look as clumsy to him as they did to me, but the second man of this group drew my attention away from further examination. He did so by actually doing the thing I had considered, leaping up onto the table that separated us, and I am somewhat ashamed to say it caught me by surprise, although I dodged the wild, overhand downward swing easily enough, especially since he was using a spatha which, while longer than our Spanish gladius, is nowhere near long enough for this type of attack; however, even if I had not seen by his long hair and the arm ring that he was a Gaul of some sort, his attempt to split me down the middle told me what I needed to know. I will say he recovered quickly enough, and he aided his cause by aiming a kick at me that missed my head but not my shoulder, and I bellowed with as much anger as pain. Fortunately, he had hit my left shoulder, causing my arm to go numb again, not that long after the feeling had come back, and the thrust I aimed at his outstretched leg missed. It was his eyes that warned me of what was coming, because I saw them dart to his left, and I pivoted a quarter turn just in time to block the thrust of a pugio with an outward, sweeping but ultimately blind swing of my gladius. If this man had a gladius of his own, I would have knocked his blade aside, but since he had only a pugio, he had been forced to extend his arm, which meant that mine sliced through his forearm as if it was not there, and I was struck fully in the face by the spray of his blood, although it did not hit me in the eyes. Regardless, I was moving again, leaning backward and away from my first foe just in time to avoid another swing of his gladius, which I had correctly assumed would be coming in the only other move barbarians use, the wide, slashing blow at neck level designed to decapitate their foes, and I felt as much as saw that he missed by a matter of inches by the disturbed air that felt as if I was fanning myself. Now that it was my turn, I did not bother with anything intricate, simply launching a thrust that stabbed my foe in his left shin with enough force that it sliced through both of the bones, and since he had shifted his weight onto that leg on his follow through with his own swing, he instantly collapsed, crashing to the floor and shrieking all the way down, until I cut him off with a thrust to the throat before he even had a chance to clutch at his ruined leg. It was over no more than twenty heartbeats after that, with the last two survivors discarding their weapons and dropping to their knees, both of them begging for mercy and how they were just following
orders. With none of Gaius’ men in between us, I got my first good look at Septimus and Alex, both of them panting, but I noticed with approval that their blades had blood on them; Bellicanus’ did as well, but only on the tip and along one edge, increasing my suspicion of the man.

  “Oy!” We all turned to see Aroborix, grinning from ear to ear despite being spattered in blood, and I glimpsed a body on the floor behind him, in between a couple of tables. “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time!”

  “Where’s Gaius?” Alex asked, and I saw the sudden look of a concern that bordered on panic. “I don’t see him here!”

  “He’s not here,” Miriam answered, coming from the farthest corner of the taverna, on the left side, and I could see that she was every bit as worried as Alex.

  However, and for no good reason given how things transpired, I did not share their concern, saying as much. “He’s trying to get out of Arelate right now. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and go back to the villa to get Algaia.” Even as the words left my mouth, I experienced a stab of doubt, which prompted me to add, “Would he?”

  “Stupid enough?” Septimus shook his head, agreeing, “Probably not.” While this made me feel better, it was destined to last only as long as it took him to add, “But I believe that he’s taken leave of his senses and has gone truly mad. And,” he finished grimly, “for whatever reason, he’s obsessed with Algaia.”

  My uncle had not even finished this before Alex was already moving to the doorway, but I was still not quite ready to vacate Bacchus’ Delight, although not because I did not think Gaius posed a threat to the Breuci girl, who was back at the villa, protected by Birgit, young Gaius, Gisela, Miriam’s children, and Chickpea, and while Gaius had proven perfectly willing to kill the men attached to his family, I refused to believe he would harm women and children, three of whom were related to him by blood.

  “Maybe we should do a search of this place before we leave,” I suggested, but not surprisingly, Alex was unwilling to wait; a bit more so was that neither was Septimus.

  “Gnaeus, I really don’t think he would stay here,” Septimus argued. Before I could respond, he admitted, “Although it would make sense for someone to stay behind and do it while the rest of us get back to the villa.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  It was the first time I heard Bellicanus’ voice, and it sounded almost identical to Aroborix’s, although now that I had a moment to examine him, I saw he appeared to be a decade younger than the gladiator.

  “No.” I shook my head adamantly. “At least, not by yourself.”

  I immediately saw that Bellicanus did not like this, and he actually took a step in my direction, glowering at me as he did so, but then Septimus said, “He’s right, Bellicanus. You shouldn’t do it alone.”

  “I can handle your brother,” the gladiator growled.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Septimus agreed, but he pointed to Aroborix. “But I still want Aroborix to help.”

  We were all distracted, with Alex the most agitated, standing in the doorway with his gladius; that is really the only excuse that we have for what was going to happen, and I share as much responsibility as anyone. I could see that Bellicanus was still unhappy, but when he did not argue, that was enough for us.

  “I’ll be sure to keep your brother safe if we find him,” Aroborix called out to us as we left, and I did wait to be the last one out of Bacchus’ Delight, pausing to look over my shoulder at Bellicanus, who was already moving towards the back of the room.

  Then I turned and left.

  We ran to the villa, through streets that were thankfully deserted, and it was as we ran that, between gasps, I learned that I had been unconscious for at least two parts of a watch, putting the time about a watch before dawn. This is traditionally the quietest time, both in a town or a military camp, so we did not even catch a glimpse of anyone else, although the racketing sound of our footsteps bouncing between the buildings did elicit a shout from an upstairs window. Alex was leading the way, at least until we rounded the corner and saw that the gate to the villa was wide open, and from that moment, I essentially assumed command; the fact that neither Alex nor Septimus argued the point and they both obeyed immediately told me that they understood how serious this was.

  “Follow me,” I ordered them, pointing to a spot behind me to my right for Alex, then doing the same for Septimus on the opposite side. “Stay a couple paces behind me, and you,” I twisted around and pointed to Miriam, “need to stay here.”

  I cannot say I was surprised when she refused, saying flatly, “My children are in there, Gnaeus. I’m coming in.” Then, before I could argue, she pointed out, “You’ll need an extra pair of eyes, and I know the villa as well as Septimus.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “But just stay immediately behind me and the same distance as Alex and Septimus.”

  With our dispositions made, we began walking slowly, with the three men holding their weapons, and for the first time I wondered where Alex had gotten a gladius, although I assumed that it was probably a spare that had been stored somewhere in the villa.

  We entered the courtyard, but it was Miriam who noticed first, whispering, “Someone put out the lamps by the doorway.”

  That, I instantly realized, was why something had seemed unusual, but the windows facing our direction, on both floors, were shuttered, although I thought I saw a sliver of light through the inevitable cracks in at least two of the upper story windows. Suddenly, there was a noise that caused us all to freeze, coming from the direction of the stables, yet despite it causing my heart to instantly go to the gallop, so to speak, I recognized the source immediately, but so did Alex.

  “Latobius must have smelled you,” he whispered, just loudly enough for me to hear. Then, he warned, “Gnaeus, remember what he likes to do if you don’t go to him!”

  I instantly realized he was right, both in what Latobius was likely to do next, and that it could not happen.

  “Wait here!” I commanded, again in the same tone, but despite not wanting to do so, I broke into a very brisk walk, which took me past the entryway into the inner courtyard of the villa.

  I did glance in that direction, but because of the extinguished lamps that normally hung on either side of the doorway, all I saw was a darker rectangle. Then, I was close enough that I heard Latobius blowing just before his large head came thrusting out over the half door to his stall, turned in my direction. I did not have an apple for him, but that did not stop him from what had become our ritual, and he signaled his displeasure with a sharp tug on my tunic, and even with the circumstances, I felt better because of this small moment of normality.

  “I need you to be quiet, boy,” I murmured to him; since he never made a noise after that, as far as I am concerned, like a good Legionary should, he understood and obeyed his Centurion.

  It was when I was moving back towards the other three that I slowed down, and since I was approaching the entryway from the opposite side, for the first time, I sensed as much as I saw a dark shape, just inside the wall that contained the small garden, through which the walkway to the door into the house was located. I stopped abruptly, straining my eyes, but there was no movement, and over the span of a couple heartbeats, I determined that, if there was someone there, they were either crouched, or…

  I heard the hiss from my lips, which seemed unnaturally loud, but I beckoned to the others to approach while I walked, slowly, towards the entryway. It was when I was no more than four or five paces away that I determined that it was a person; more accurately, it was a body, lying so that the lower half of their body was blocking the entryway. The others joined me just as I was crouching down, and while the muffled gasp came from either Septimus or Alex, it was the choked sob from Miriam that told me she recognized Chickpea. His throat had been cut, the blood forming a black pool around his head, but it was the position of his body that Alex noticed, and as we would be learning shortly, correctly guessed what had happened.

  “
He was killed from behind,” he whispered, pointing to Chickpea’s upper torso that was lying in the dirt on the left side of the walkway, while his legs were all of him that was still on the paved path. “Someone told him to walk to the villa, probably with a pugio or gladius to his back, then once he opened the outer door…” Even whispering, I could hear the fear and the rage there in his voice. “…they slit his throat and left him here.”

  I stood; there was nothing that could be done for poor Chickpea, and I stepped over him, hearing the others do the same while I approached the door that was the entrance into the house itself. At first, it appeared to be closed, but then when I was close enough that I could reach out and touch it, I saw that it was slightly ajar, which prompted me to turn around, put a finger to my lips, then point down to the latch. I saw their heads nod that they understood, and I turned back, putting my left hand on the door, turning somewhat so that my gladius hand was slightly farther away as I tried desperately to recall if I had heard the hinges squeaking whenever I had walked through this door.

  Then, in the heartbeat before I pushed it open, I felt a hand on my shoulder that almost made me yelp in surprise, and I turned to glare at whoever it was; it was Septimus, who leaned forward to whisper in my ear, “Should one of us go around to the back door?”

  It was a sound suggestion, and I did consider it; this was the door by which the family went to the small bathhouse, while there was a small dwelling next to it that had served as the slaves’ quarters back when the original owner had moved in, but was now occupied only by Chickpea and the freedman couple, each with a floor to themselves. However, after a moment’s thought, I shook my head, then decided the risk was worth it to explain.

  “We need to stick together.” I had to put my lips to Septimus’ ear, having learned the trick of exhaling one’s breath before whispering. “If Gaius is alone, we don’t want to give him a situation where he only has to deal with one of us. And,” I added this because I still thought I had seen another man in the opposite corner from the man Aroborix had slain, and I had no idea where he was, “if he’s not, then they’d have an advantage.”