Corvus Rex

by J K Ishaya

“We inched our way down the wall carefully but as swiftly as possible before the invaders might reach the spiritual district and discover our point of descent and hack the ropes or send forces around the side of the mountain to apprehend us. When our feet touched the steep and precarious slope, we continued to hold onto our ropes for as far down as they reached. I stayed by my father’s side, still worrying over his physical and mental health though I need not have, for he had regained his focus and even hissed out a few orders when someone yelped or made too much other noise. By now the heat had given us all a fresh gleam of sweat that saturated our tunics. The smell of char from the previously burned village hung stronger down there, carrying up through the woods, and made us all the thirstier and miserable. From there we had the cover of steep pines, but the thick blanket of dried needles on the slope made it slick. My men and I had beaten paths in that slope before, and we found one to follow, switching back and forth for what felt like an endless decline of balancing and quiet cursing. Somewhere in our wake there a child cried, but that little voice did not belong to one of mine, and I heard a mother’s soft hushes until the cries became murmurs and finally were quiet.

  “Can you imagine?” I sidetrack simply to make a specific point. “I have told you of how they fought alongside their men. Now a mother had carried her child down the wall on her back. There were others with us as well, equally as adept at suspending the weight of their grief in order to save what was left of their families. You see why I could—if I dared—reason that Bendis had gotten out of the tower and saved our cubs, too?”

  Howard nods to this, but his mind does not relate, not surrounded as he has been by tittering, coddling women, including the aunts he mentioned and especially his nerve-rattled mother, all products of the last, dying age.

  “The trees made long, wide strips of shadows, so we could not always see where we were stepping. As the slope became less steep, we gazed beyond the pine forest to the filtered glow of the Roman camp fires scattered around the outskirts of the valley. They were minimally manned since the bulk of the legionaries were up in the fort. We had come down well over a mile now, and we could look back and see the steeper side of the mountain rising behind us with the hulk of Sarmizegetusa's walls sitting upon it and against the sky we saw the glow of the burning homes within.

  “After that, the rest of the night becomes a blur. I recall how we choked back all urges to sob, for we were still nowhere near safe yet, and took a route around the outskirts of the mostly empty camp. As for my men and myself, our wishes to cut throats were certainly heightened, but our desire to live so that we might do far more damage later, surpassed that.

  “Come morning we found ourselves in a clearing that I had not seen since I was thirteen. I said nothing as I looked at my mother’s grave, now more overgrown around the river stone that marked it, but still distinct from the thick carpet of moss that made a shallow dent into the earth for the length of it. The people around me did not notice this variation in the landscape, nor did they care. Eyes were red with tears, grief, and anger, and throats were still scathed with the taste of smoke. I gave the grave little thought myself as I desperately tried to imagine ways that Bendis could have gotten herself and the children out of the fortress.

  “At last I counted how many had come with us: no more than twenty-two, I believe, three of them children younger than ten, and there were also the two guards who had come from the tower house. Including myself, my three remaining men, and Decebal, that totaled only twenty-seven.

  “The clearing was near a stream where everyone could drink plenty and gain some strength, and as Decebal rinsed his face and took in huge gulps of water, I saw greater focus gradually return to his eyes, and he joined in when Scorylo, Daizus, Brassus and I huddled to discuss our next set of plans which were shoddy at best.

  “We guided our charges further away from the vicinity of the fortress lands before sending them to the rendezvous point where Vesina should be with those who had gotten over the east wall. Daizus went with them along with the two house guards, Rolouzis and his partner, under his command, so I felt that they were all in good hands.

  “Decebal insisted on remaining behind with me, Brassus, and Scorylo. I wanted to argue against it but also to keep an eye on him at the same time, so I relented. His wits seemed, for the most part restored, but he clearly harbored some thoughts that he would soon come to share with me.

  “Now just the four of us, we proceeded to scout the river valley back toward the fortress and Roman encampment. As we reached the southern embankment, avoiding the main road, we halted to find a centuria scattered in our path along with mounted cavalry patrolling back and forth in the woods that had not been scorched. The riders listened as the legionnaires scouting the forest called out clues that they found. Our feet had dug out gashes in the pine needles on the steep embankment as we’d made our way down in the dark and moonlight, so now they had no doubt that escapees roamed the woodlands. Fortunately, where the pine needles thinned out, our tracks had faded.

  “The most we could do now was listen in and avoid discovery. We were weak after our climb and the emotional upheaval and desperation. My head pounded from it all, and though I had practically guzzled down my weight in water, I still thirsted. Not to mention, my back sent repeated slices of pain through my center, making a cross of tension beneath my shoulder blades and into my core. A new commotion rose as distant horns blared. An alert had gone out.

  “’That’s a cavalry call,’ Scorylo whispered next to me. ‘They’ve found survivors.’

  “Brassus looked at me and clearly knew what I was thinking. ‘Bendis and the children are not likely among them, Zyr.’

  “‘No,’ Decebal said in a sharp rasp and I thought the old man’s face blanched even more under its mask of sweat and grime. ‘It’s something else.’ He took the lead then. I let him hurry ahead of us, keeping his head low, as did we, as we dashed in single file through the underbrush. We ducked down and paused when we heard riders near, and then continued to the east away from the direction in which we had sent Daizus to meet up with Vesina and our greater group of refugees.

  “The rush of the Sargetia river grew louder as we came nearer and heard something of a cheer go up through the trees. Happy shouts in Latin, and we could smell the aroma of freshly turned earth. From a narrow vantage point looking through the trees and over a spread of ferns, we could see several centuries and a small dispatch of cavalry that paraded back and forth, hooves splashing on the edge of the water as their riders vied for a better view. The gathering framed a long, wide swathe of disturbed loamy soil and rock. The Romans had been off by a few yards, so the gash in the landscape was long, wider in some places, puddling with water. At its head a far deeper hole had been dug, and digging tools had been discarded. From that hole had been pulled three large trunks.

  “We were all mute to see this discovery of Dacian gold reserves. Not our only reserve, but one of the largest. The punched feeling to my gut matched that which I had felt when I saw the tower house burning. After a long moment, we exchanged glances and then crept away. There were far too many of them for four bedraggled men such as ourselves to take on. We moved up river until we felt far enough away to pause and consider a strategy since roaming about aimlessly, dizzy and increasingly angrier, solved nothing.

  “First, we needed to get our strength back with water and food, and then we needed what we hungered for most, answers and revenge. We took more water from the Sargetia, cleaned ourselves up a little more, and then I watched quietly as both Scorylo and Brassus each took a shit and pissed in the water that flowed down stream, sending it in the direction of the Romans and our captured gold, the only gesture of defiance that any of us could come up with at the moment. They did it with wan faces, no humor left in them. We continued to follow the river upstream for a time and then managed to capture a hare which we stripped and ate raw, fearing a fire to cook it might draw attention. Over our chewy repast, I found my father staring harsh
ly in my direction while I tried to eat.

  “‘Where were you?’ he asked with a certain edge in his voice. ‘Where were you when this started?’ I had been expecting this question.

  “Scorylo and Brassus looked at me then slunk away with their portions to go eat within the shade of the tree line and leave us alone. I completely lost my appetite. I told my father how the elite and I had planned to sneak down into the camp, take water and leave corpses, creating an uproar among the legions. Then I came to how we were about to go over the wall when we saw the tower house on fire.

  “’Your intention was to leave the fortress?’ Decebal said when I finished, his tone one of scolding.

  “‘Only to cause them strife and to bring back water,’ I reiterated. ‘It did us no good sitting around parched, unable to think. And when I saw your condition in the temple—’ I did not know if he was aware of how frail he’d seemed, both mentally and physically in that moment with both Vesina and Bielis scrutinizing his ability to continue ruling.

  “He pondered this for a moment, and I expected to be further chastised, but instead he said in a lower, sad tone, ‘I would have liked to have seen that plan work.’

  “I felt no relief to hear this, but it did tamp down some of my tension. He was not, in the end, angry with me at all.

  “’I can imagine them,’ he continued, ‘waking up to find bodies scattered in their camp, the confusion. It was worth a try, son.’ He looked at his hands, sticky from the raw meat of the hare, and moved forward to wash them in a pool on the edge of the river. ‘I vaguely remember being in the temple. Something came over me, dizziness, desperation.’

  “‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and you needlessly sacrificed six young men. Warriors.’ I suppose I gave him an accusatory look. ‘I feared for your mind more than your life.’

  “He said nothing at first of any shame at having committed such a deed but moved up stream a few paces and scooped up more water, splashed his face, ran it through his dirty hair and pulled it back from his face, revealing new clarity in his eyes. ‘I believe I was… drugged,’ he said then, and my stomach gave a sickly turn. My expression must have betrayed me for he took a breath. ‘Yes, boy,’ he said. ‘I am saying I suspect a traitor was present.’

  “’Who?’ I asked more hushed and moved closer to him. ‘You are not saying Vesina— ‘

  “’No, not Vesina. Worse.’

  “My thoughts rapidly threaded together the evidence, recalled the one man who had seemed to completely disappear when the fire and all of the commotion started. Who would be worse than the king’s trusted high priest but his greatest friend since childhood, the man who had been as much a brother to him as an uncle to me? ’Bielis?’ I whispered.

  “Decebal proceeded to trace the last evening’s events as he stared into the river’s hypnotic current, starting with his arrival at the temple to pray alongside Vesina and discuss strategies for building our dying morale. The heat at that time of day was already unbearable, but the temple with its copper standards emitting fragrant smoke into the air was all the more stifling and prompted greater thirst. ‘A servant boy brought me my ration of water,’ he said. ‘I thought I detected a bitter taste, but so thirsty was I that I paid little attention. Soon the world around me became hazy, my thinking turning toward my worst fears which folded over and over in my mind, building until I boiled with feverish determination that we must get a message through to Zalmoxis. Soon followed a nauseousness in my stomach that made me swoon even more. Such an embarrassing state, a weak state, for a king whose people are depending on him to save them. Yes?’

  “‘Who was the servant boy?’ I asked, still stunned by the whole notion. Movement caught my attention off on the edge of the trees where Scorylo and Brassus lurked, taking sideways glances at us. I waved them to remain where they were. Around us, the forest had become eerily quiet, except for the percolation of the river, as if also trying to listen in.

  “Decebal barely gave the men a glance as he focused deeper on his suspicions which did not include them as any kind of conspirators. ‘Dadazi, the child of Bielis’s own servant woman, Petra,’ he said, answering my question. ‘We both often used him for errands, but I do not think the boy knew. He seemed almost as dazed as I became, perhaps he even dared to take a sip of the same water thinking no one would notice.’

  “‘So you believe Bielis set that fire?’ All the while we spoke, my chest grew tight inside, my back tension turning into a hot pan of nerves.

  “‘He had unquestioned access to the tower house, the means to get in and out without difficulty or notice.’ His last observation left us both quiet. I’m sure we both wished the evidence were not there, hoping it merely paranoia. Decebal straightened up as best he could and crossed his arms. After another long moment, he said just as quietly, ‘There is another matter I do remember from my stupor. That I announced you will be king after me.’

  “I shuffled my feet and said nothing to this as my discomfort grew. ‘You did.’

  “‘I meant it,’ he said frankly. ‘It is something I have been considering. By no means did I intend to announce it that way, blathering and drooling, and not without consulting or preparing you first.’ With that he stepped closer to me, glanced over at my men again to satisfy himself that they were out of earshot. ‘There is something I need for you to know. If Bielis is our traitor, then no doubt he is the one who told Trajan’s forces of our hoard by the Sargetia, and he will tell them about others, those that he knows of anyway. But I did not put all of my trust in Bielis or the other men who hid those treasures. At the base of Kogianon, our most sacred mountain, on the south side, there is a boulder that looks like a woman’s head under the great roots of a long dead pine. Beneath it is a second hoard known only to me, placed there on my behalf by my brother, your uncle Diegis, years ago. You will find that hoard and you will use it to survive and, Zalmoxis willing, rebuild Dacia.’

  “‘You mean you will rebuild Dacia,’ I said through clenched teeth.

  “‘No, boy. My time is almost over, but yours is not. The Romans may have taken Sarmizegetusa, but they haven’t taken all of Dacia. The freelands are ripe with tribes willing to join you and march south on Rome.’

  “‘And why would they?’ I asked him defiantly. ‘They didn't join us before? Why would they join us now, seeing our defeat when they still live in freedom? Why gain the attention of Rome as we did? No, we will have to find another way, perhaps among the Sarmatians who have not sold out already.’

  “‘You do not understand me correctly, Zyraxes,’ he said, and an overwhelming look of warmth crept into his eyes. ‘They will follow you. I am the king who failed his people, but you… Look at you. What you have lost, they will fear losing, too. You will be able to convince them of the threat that is Rome.’

  “I wish I could have felt some swell of pride that my father had so much belief in me, but my spirit feeling beaten, I looked away, mouth tight with bitterness, and finally Brassus and Scorylo dared come forward and interrupt us. Brassus diplomatically cleared his throat, snapping me from my daze, though the weight remained on my shoulders and I thought that my back would finally buckle in my middle and I might completely collapse, chest and shoulders tipping to hang awkwardly sideways and how freakish that would appear and immobile I would become.

  “A king with a crooked back, I thought, and then I was too tired to think at all."

  ✽✽✽

  "Apulon comprised a smaller mountain fortress north of Sarmizegetusa that sat near one of our silver mines with a small dava remaining at the foot of the slopes. The Romans had dismantled it and scoured the mine years before the fateful siege that finally fractured Dacia and then moved on to rape other mines to the north and west. They had taken the stones of the fortress for their own building elsewhere, whittled it down to a modest ruin, and left the dava unoccupied to focus on larger settlements. The Apulon dava was our rendezvous point and where we could reclaim Dacian weapons and the means to kindle a counter strike.


  “The roughly sixty-five-mile hike was easily done at a brisk walk when we were well hydrated and healthy men. This time, we trudged the wilderness with heavy legs and hearts, avoiding the scattering of Roman-occupied davas. At night we camped up high on a sloping shelf on the mountain side, shaded in pines but with a look out point that had a clear view of the path below us. Exhausted, each of us took a turn on watch while the others slept, but it was always fitful sleep for each of us, and in the short amount of time I managed to doze, I suddenly found myself on that damnable threshold over those long forgotten damnable steps.”

  Renewed mention of these steps stirs another little spark of urgency in young Howard. His patience thins for a matter of seconds and then he tamps it down. He wants so much to know more about the steps, but to his credit he remains quiet and continues listening.

  “As a child I had conditioned myself to awaken as soon as I saw them, and so I still did as an adult. My eyes opened repeatedly to look up at the field of stars beyond the dark spears of the pines above us. Gradually the moon crept over again, and again I attempted to close my eyes and drift. The steps appeared yet again and seemed to be calling me this time with a bizarre compulsion much deeper than when I was merely a curious boy. But I was also too anguished to answer that call, and even my bizarre recent experience with the stranger was a vague blur in my mind. I found myself falling into a state of new denial. I could only think of Bendis and our children, rekindling the hope that they had escaped, that they had not burned. I liked to visualize them taking the same route we were on now. They would be dirty and tired, Bendis would have Breslin in her arms, and Tsinna would be trying to lead the way, gripping his sica with the unfinished carved handle as if it were a talisman that could protect them all.

  “On the third morning, I sat up from my forest bed when a whistle sounded through the trees, Brassus signaling that someone was coming. Immediately I roused Scorylo and my father and we scurried down to the lookout point just beyond the trees. ‘There, a rider,’ Brassus pointed to an area down slope where we could see just the slightest movement of shadow between trees where the sunlight fell in golden slats.