The Encircling Sea

by Adrian Goldsworthy

  Neither of Segovax’s wounds were too serious, but he would struggle to walk quickly or do much with his left hand. ‘Was he the one who took your family?’ Ferox asked the Red Cat when the thief came down to see his brother.

  ‘One of them. We will find the others as well.’ Segovax said nothing, but the fierce determination in his eyes spoke as loudly as his brother’s words. The Red Cat had cuts on his fingers, while his hands and face were heavy with a grey-brown dust.

  ‘They want you on the top,’ the thief added. ‘The boy thinks he has seen something. I have not, but he swears that he has.’

  ‘Thank you for your help,’ Ferox said, and once he was sure that everything was in place in case the enemy attacked again, he made his way up to the roof. Probus was there, along with Bran and an ebullient Ovidius. All three were covered in dust. Ferox pulled himself up onto the thatch. A large section of the surrounding wall was gone, and he realised that they had pulled it apart to use as missiles. He looked over the edge. It was a good ten feet or so to the mouth of the entrance below, and some of the shaped stones had gone further than that.

  ‘I did worry that we might touch a capstone or something like that,’ the old poet said. His eyes were bright, and he was struggling to stop from grinning. ‘Thought we might pull out a single piece and have the whole tower fall down around our ears.’

  ‘That would have been unfortunate, my lord,’ Ferox agreed.

  ‘I rather fear I was not strong enough to do more than give orders, which the others were courteous enough to follow. I threw one and it struck the roof.’

  ‘It nearly hit me.’

  ‘Sorry. I almost hit that fiery Hibernian queen as well, as she hauled herself up onto the roof.’ Ovidius pointed down to one of the half-ruined houses alongside the winding entrance tunnel. ‘Oh dear, that’s a long way up,’ he said, looking nauseous. ‘I really do not care for heights. When something is happening it is fine, but now…’ He trailed off.

  ‘It is like that. Sometimes you are too busy to be afraid.’

  ‘That must be so.’ Ovidius was puzzled and intrigued, and Ferox sensed an approaching discussion. He turned to Probus.

  ‘You did the throwing? That’s a hell of a long way.’

  ‘I was a slave once, and a soldier,’ the merchant said. ‘These days I’m rich, but a man should still do some of his own work. The other lad is smaller than me and lobbed them just as far.’ He meant the Red Cat. ‘The boy reckons he’s seen something.’

  ‘I kept a lookout while they were fighting.’ Bran’s face showed resentment at not being able to hurl big rocks as far as an adult. ‘And I saw them. Three sails, maybe four.’

  Ferox went to the other side of the tower and looked out to sea. The weather was closing in again, clouds sweeping over the waves so that he could not see much more than half a mile out across the water.

  ‘Anyone else see anything?’ There was silence. ‘What about the Red Cat?’

  ‘He was busy,’ Bran insisted. ‘And by the time the fight was over, it was harder to see. He reckoned he saw something, but was not sure and he said that he would go and get you.’

  Ferox peered out, shading his eyes as if somehow that would let him penetrate the grey veil. ‘What makes you sure?’

  ‘The shape. Only your army ships have sails like that.’

  ‘Good lad.’ He leaned on one arm as he made his way around the conical thatched roof. There was not much high ground on the island, apart from to the north east and that was furthest away from the ships – if that was what the boy had really seen. An idea was forming in his mind, a wild, foolish idea, and he was not sure whether he should say something to Ovidius. For all his vagueness, the old man was a noble and had the ear of the legate.

  An arrow struck the wall in front of him and bounced off the stone.

  ‘Keep down, everyone. No sense in getting killed now that help is on the way.’

  ‘You really reckon they’re coming?’ Probus asked the question that he sensed Ovidius was also itching to raise.

  ‘They’re coming,’ he said, and saw Bran swell up with pride. ‘What we have to do now is work out how we can help them.’

  XXIII

  ‘IT’S USUALLY better to attack if you can.’ Longinus spoke the words cautiously, as if weighing up each one. ‘Defence is all very well, but if the bastards won’t go away then you’ll lose in the end. I did.’

  Ferox had taken Vindex and the veteran to the room with the cow and its calf, and once he had got there said that he needed the advice of Julius Civilis. His mind was made up, but he wanted to see if the men he trusted the most could make him change it or would prove that he was right.

  ‘There are ten of us left who can fight,’ Vindex said. ‘Eleven if you count Segovax.’ The northerner was insisting that he was not slowed down by his wounds enough to matter. ‘He probably can fight on if we stay here, and he doesn’t need to move about much.’

  ‘There are three wounded who cannot go anywhere,’ Longinus, or Civilis, equestrian, prefect of a cohort and leader of the Batavian rebels, pointed out. ‘And you cannot expect the old man to survive long out in the open. Or the lady, spirited and tough though she is. And that boy of yours is raw.

  ‘Much depends on whether the child really did see warships on their way. If he did and the weather holds, then they may be here tomorrow, or even tonight. They will not know where we are or even whether we are still alive.’

  ‘We could signal,’ Vindex suggested. ‘If we lit the thatch the fire ought to go up and the stone cannot burn. We may have to come down from the upper floor, but we should be safe enough.’

  ‘It’s raining hard,’ Ferox said, ‘even if it was safe.’

  Longinus nuzzled the cow, which started to lick his fingers. ‘Assuming that help is on its way, what will Cniva do?’

  Ferox sighed. ‘If he knows? Either make a last effort to kill us and then hole up in his stronghold on the far side of the island, or take to his heels. He has a ship. We might follow him for a while, but he can probably guess that we won’t hunt him forever. Even after his losses he has a lot of well-armed warriors. They could easily take another island.’

  ‘Or wait until we have gone and come back here,’ Vindex suggested. ‘Doesn’t it depend on how much he wants Genialis? If the boy has value to him then he might have another go. It’s quiet out there now, but if they get in it won’t last long.’

  ‘What if he could not leave?’ Ferox looked at them in turn.

  ‘You are thinking of his ship?’ Vindex said. ‘Burn it, like we did those boats at Aballava?’

  ‘I was thinking something like that.’

  ‘Big thing to burn.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘If you trap him here then he must fight.’ The one-eyed veteran was still fussing the cow. ‘So maybe he will go back behind the walls of his settlement and prepare. If he has seen the ships coming he will guess at how many are coming for him. So he will know that he is outnumbered two or three to one. Can he hope to beat those odds?’

  ‘Will he have a choice?’ Ferox asked. ‘He cannot leave, so as you say he must fight. This is not the country to face bigger numbers in the open, and there is nowhere to hide. Behind a stout wall he has a chance. We have held them off so far and he might do the same.’

  Longinus nodded. ‘Our boys won’t have the equipment for a full siege or the time for it. So Cniva might be wondering how much food Brocchus and his men have brought with them. There is not a lot to take up here, not to feed hundreds, and if Brocchus sends men to sail off to the coast or another island that takes time and weakens his force. Hold out for long enough and the Romans might leave.’

  ‘Might be weeks or months, or maybe never, before they come back,’ Vindex conceded. ‘This is a long way from the province. If he can hold them off Cniva would tell everyone that he was a great leader, a man whose spirit is strong. But he’s failed so far here. What’s to say that some of the rest don’t kill him and find som
eone else to take charge?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Ferox said. ‘The choices are the same. They know that they’ll not get terms. Not after what they have done. And Cniva’s lasted a long time. You don’t get rid of a man like that easily.’

  Longinus stopped petting the animal’s head and walked around behind it, running a hand along its back. ‘How are ten fighters, one of them a woman, or eleven if you include a tough old bastard who can limp quickly, to fight their way past a couple of hundred warriors, who may object to having their trireme set on fire? Leave the tower and you abandon those who cannot move, and almost certainly lead the others who cannot fight to their deaths. Probably all will die.

  ‘If we stay here then all or most may survive. That is if rescue is close and if we hold off any attacks that come before it gets here.’

  ‘A lot of ifs,’ Vindex said. ‘And at best we survive.’

  ‘We cannot leave the tower,’ Longinus said, watching Ferox’s face closely. ‘But I do not think that is what you have in mind, is it? Most of us must stay.’

  Ferox nodded. ‘There is little point in all of us going. Eleven against two hundred or more, the odds are absurd. But they are not much more absurd for one or two against a couple of hundred, and one or two might slip past unnoticed and be able to reach the ship.’

  Vindex gave a grim laugh. ‘Is this one of those times when you presume on our friendship?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Bugger,’ the scout said.

  Longinus did not smile. ‘You should stay. If anyone is to go with the centurion it should be that old thief. He’s used to creeping about in the dark. And maybe the boy?’

  Ferox was surprised, even though the same thought had occurred to him. Longinus’ one eye glittered in the torchlight, and he felt as if the old man was looking inside him.

  ‘It stands to reason,’ the veteran said. ‘You want to get out to a ship. And maybe if you are thinking straight and reckon you have luck on your side, you want to get off that boat and escape afterwards. They won’t have the ship on the beach. It’s from the classis Britannica and they tend to build in oak for these northern waters, so it’ll be too heavy to drag ashore unless you are planning to be there for a while. So, you’ll need to find a small boat to get out to it, because I don’t think they’ll have a jetty and it will be too far to swim. Bran is the best waterman we have, young though he is. And if I’m to hold on here with what’s left, I’ll need this Brigantian rogue. The boy you can take if you want to play the hero, and you can have the thief because his brother is the true fighter, but I’m keeping him.’ He flicked Vindex around the head.

  ‘You think it would be better if all of us stay?’ Ferox asked the old man.

  ‘Give us all a better chance of living. Still might not be enough, but there’s nothing we can do about that. I came here to get the lady back safe, because I owe her family and she is one of our own by marriage – and I happen to like her a lot. That job is not yet finished, and it matters to me more than anything else. So, if I was in charge, we’d all stay here and live or die to protect her. The most I’d let you do is creep out at night and see how many of their throats you can slit. No harm in keeping them nervous, but I wouldn’t take a risk with her life. But I’m not in charge.’

  ‘Lost the war when you were, didn’t you, father?’ Vindex said.

  ‘Yes, I did.’ He smiled. ‘Not sure I could ever have won, but then if that’s true maybe I shouldn’t have fought it in the first place. Didn’t have the choice, though, after what they did to me. Your lot didn’t do any better, did they?’

  ‘Us? We never fought the Romans. The Carvetii have always been friends to Rome – leastways while anyone’s looking.’ He jerked a thumb at Ferox. ‘He’s the one whose folk thought it was a good idea to take a crack at the Romans.’

  ‘In case you hadn’t heard, we lost,’ the centurion conceded.

  ‘I know,’ Longinus told him. ‘I was there under Frontinus.’ For some reason Ferox had never thought of this old man fighting against the Silures. He wondered if Longinus had been there when his own father had been cut down by the Romans, or when others of his family had died or been enslaved. ‘It isn’t nice to lose, is it?’

  Ferox said nothing, and the veteran turned his attention back to Vindex. ‘Thought you Carvetii call yourselves the brave ones?’

  ‘Aye, but not stupid. When you see a huge bastard with an evil temper coming to visit, covered in mail and with a sharp sword and looking angry, it’s time to make friends rather than get in his way. Don’t your folk understand that?’

  Longinus laughed. ‘We’re Batavians. We are the big bastards with evil tempers. But sometimes the odds are too big.’

  ‘Not wise fighting when the odds are stacked against you,’ the Brigantian agreed. ‘Wouldn’t catch sensible men like us doing that, would you?’

  Longinus ignored him and came around from behind the cow to face Ferox. The animal’s gaze followed him until its head could not turn far enough. After that, it leaned down and began to eat some hay. All the while the calf drank milk and ignored them all. ‘Well then,’ the veteran said. ‘I’m not in charge. You are and you want to do this damned fool thing. I’m guessing you hope to slip out during the night. Maybe see if you can get some black clothes from their dead and wear those. Their sentries will have to be blind not to spot you, whether you try to swim through the water or crawl across the causeway. Odds are you are dead or captured before you get a hundred paces from where you start. But the rain may help, and if they’re blind and daft there is a slim chance that you’ll get through. Next you have to cross the island for a couple of miles to reach the harbour. Lots more of them out there and plenty of chance for them to catch you. What if you bump into a patrol?’

  Ferox shrugged because he did not have an answer.

  Longinus continued. ‘So, let’s say you get out to their boat. I don’t think you’ll get within bowshot of it, because if you know how valuable it is to them, then you can bet Cniva does. How are you going to start a fire big enough to do some damage? Will you tell me that, centurion? Because if you can’t then I’ll kill you before you leave this tower and put us all at risk.’ The one eye glared at Ferox.

  ‘Thought you promised Flora that you would look after me?’ he said.

  ‘I’d be giving you a quicker, cleaner death than you’ll get out there. Be a consolation for the old girl. In fact, I can do it now, unless you can convince me to change my mind.’ The veteran tapped the hilt of his sword.

  ‘I have an idea,’ the centurion began, and explained his plan.

  Longinus listened and then sniffed. ‘Might work, might not,’ he said grudgingly. ‘And you might be a rare genius or the big­gest fool ever to swear an oath to the emperor.’

  ‘What’s the difference?’ Vindex said.

  ‘Luck,’ Longinus told him. ‘That’s what it comes down to more often than not.’

  ‘Well, I’ll be all right then,’ the scout declared. ‘Don’t know about you two.’

  ‘If we are really lucky the first of Brocchus’ men will be here soon and then he will be in charge and he can make the decisions,’ Ferox said.

  ‘And if the lad was imagining things?’ Longinus’ voice was harsh. ‘What if he just saw some merchant ships sailing along, oblivious? Or he was right, but a storm picks up and drives them away from the island?’

  ‘Then we’re humped,’ Vindex said. ‘But worrying won’t change it.’

  The veteran sighed. ‘Still, maybe you are lucky, and maybe if they realise some of us are abroad and up to no good they will be worried. Cniva might just pull away from here to protect his stronghold and his ship. But my money is on you not being able to get out of this tower in the first place. So you’ll get nowhere, or be dead, or they’ll have you and we can watch while Cniva slices you up and promises to finish the job unless we surrender.’

  ‘In that case spit in his eye, whatever he does to me.’

  ‘That was my
plan,’ Longinus said without a trace of humour. ‘You agree, lad?’ he added, glancing at Vindex.

  ‘Oh aye. I’m comfortable here. No sense in going out.’

  Ferox went to check on the men guarding the entrance. Probus was there, along with one of the Batavians and the last of the scouts, and they had nothing to report apart from the driv­ing rain. Another Batavian lay on the floor in one of the rooms off the winding corridor, dozing in his armour. Brigita sat on a stool beside him, honing the edge of her sword. She stared at Ferox when he looked in, but said nothing. He went back inside, heading for the store room. He found a sack, and then the rags soaked in oil from the broken amphora. Adding hand­fuls of dried straw, he stuffed it all into the sack. What he wanted was something that would catch fire and burn well, so that it was hot enough to spread. It was not much, but if he could get on board and have the time to gather ropes and anything else that would catch alight, and if he could jam it all somewhere out of the wind and rain, and if he could set it on fire, and if no one came to put the fire out before it took hold… Ferox did not follow the train of thought to the end. As Vindex had said, it was a lot of ifs.

  ‘I hear that you are leaving us, centurion.’ Sulpicia Lepidina was in the doorway.

  ‘Longinus told you?’

  ‘He did, and then Vindex told me. Although I rather think that I might have guessed.’

  ‘I always thought I was inscrutable.’ He tried to smile and could not.

  ‘To some perhaps.’ She came in and closed the door behind her. It was a small room, and with one step he was beside her. He dropped the sack and put both arms around her waist. They kissed once, and then she pulled away. ‘Longinus thinks that you will die.’