The Singing Sword cc-2

by Jack Whyte

  "Of course I will."

  "Good. Some day I'll make you a sword with a fishy grip."

  "Sounds disgusting, but I'll look forward to having it. By the way, can you smell that stuff on your hand?"

  I grinned and sniffed my palm. "No. Nothing there at all."

  "That's a relief. It must be trout."

  As we approached the house again, Pecula came out, bearing his new sword proudly, his face wreathed in a smile. We stopped and admired it, for he had chosen well, picking one of my best. I wished him well in the use of it, and Picus took all four of them off with him in the direction of the stables, leaving me alone. I carried my new sword into the house and made a place for it in my weapons room, then stayed there for an hour, playing with my treasures and letting the atmosphere of weaponry absorb me.

  Two hours later, I was back in the forge fiddling with a piece of charcoal and a scrap of Andros's parchment. I had filled every inch of it with sketches of swords, spears, axes and Equus's new spear. Some of the swords I had drawn had leaf-shaped blades, but most of them were straight-edged. Equus was watching me; I could feel his eyes on my back. Finally, he spoke.

  "You having problems with something?"

  "No more than usual. I can't stop thinking about what Picus said. About shortening the shaft of that spear. He's right, it should work."

  "Boudicca's belly, Varrus, I'm surprised at you! You've worked with weapons all your life and you know it can't be done! Make him a long-handled club like the ones the barbarians use, or an axe — something with all the weight at one end, so that he can swing it. But you can't shorten that spear shaft and keep it bal-

  anced, any more than you can lengthen a sword blade and keep it balanced!"

  "I know, Equus, I know! But still, if there was a way..."

  "Horse turds! If there was a way to turn horse turds into apples, no one would ever be hungry! It can't be done."

  So I sat there and fiddled, eventually turning the parchment over to use the other side of it. I drew a gladium, the finest, most efficient weapon ever designed. And then I took my charcoal and doubled the length of the blade. What a pity that wouldn't work! With a sword that length, even Picus could reach a man on the ground. But the whole shape was wrong. The straight gladium blade, extended to twice its length, would lose its rigidity and would have too much weight. And then, quite suddenly, I saw what my mind had been trying to tell me with the memory of the leaf-bladed sword. It was not the shape of the boy's old sword that had been important, it was the principle underlying it! Picus had been talking of combining a spear and an axe — rigidity with impetus. It wouldn't work; it was apples and horse turds, as Equus so eloquently put it. But a sword with the length of Equus's new spear...!

  Excited without really knowing why, I got to my feet and fetched the weapon, laying it on the bench in front of me and focusing my attention on the blade. It was spear-shaped, tapering from a sharp point to a broad, flared base before plunging back down to the width of the shaft, like a diamond with two sides extended to the point of being ludicrous. The thing was fully three feet in length to its broadest point. I looked closely at the way Equus had reinforced it. In section, it was diamond-shaped again.

  Now my charcoal began to work again in earnest, sketching the lines of the blade, the proportions of the taper on its width, and finally I had what I was looking for. I couldn't have told anyone what it was, but I knew it was almost right.

  "Equus, come here a moment, will you?" I heard him put down whatever it was he was working on and then I felt his presence beside me.

  "Aye," he said. "What've you got?"

  I didn't raise my head, for I was concentrating so hard on what I was thinking about that I could feel the tension of a frown between my brows. "I want you to look at this and then do what I ask you to do, without any comments or any argument, understand?"

  "I hear you."

  "Good. Now think of the elements of a sword: blade, tang, hilt, grip and pommel. The hilt fits over the tang to add weight to the fulcrum and support the grip. The grip fits against that and the pommel holds the whole assembly together."

  "What's this? A lesson in elementary armoury?"

  "Be quiet and listen. Look at this spear of yours. A heavy, strong blade, shaped like a spearhead, but three-feet long, with a three-foot tang, the shaft, bound with strips of wood, fitted and bound together. We've been arguing about the balance because we've been looking at it as a spear."

  "So? That's what it is. It's a spear."

  "I know it is, but listen. I want you to try something else for me — something different — and the last thing I need right now is a list of a thousand reasons why it can't be done. I want it done, even if the end result is something I'm not strong enough to pick up off the floor. Do you still hear me?"

  "Aye. What's in your mind?"

  "This," I said. "I want you to make me a blade one-fourth as long again as this one is. I want you to reduce the width of it by one-fourth again, at its widest point. You follow me?"

  He nodded, his eyes glowing with interest now that I was improvising. "The most difficult part, technically, will be the taper," I went on. "I want you to keep this blade double-edged and as near to straight as you can get it, and yet I want you to taper it from its point of greatest width to half that width about a hand's breadth from the point." I could see that he was holding himself in check with difficulty, bursting to speak. "Can you do that?"

  He surprised me by not bursting out with a response immediately. He bit his lower lip between his teeth, staring at the blade, and then he picked up my stub of charcoal and began to draw with rapid, sure strokes, weighing the changes he would have to make.

  "Aye," he nodded, at last. "I can do it. But that narrowing worries me. It could be a waste of time." At least he hadn't said it would be a waste of time!

  "How so?"

  "You know as well as I do. The width, combined with the length." He laid his hand on the spear blade. "This thing is as strong as I could make it, but beyond the midway point from the shaft, it's too thin for the job it has to do, and at its widest, up here, it doesn't get enough support along its edges from the central spine. The metal becomes too thin. It's like a scythe — great for cutting grass, but we've got thicker, tougher things to chop."

  "So? Have you a better suggestion?"

  "Perhaps. Let's say, for the sake of argument, that we do what you suggest. We lengthen the blade by a quarter of its length, but we taper it by a third of its width only, instead of half. Say then we extended the taper so that the full third was narrowed from the base all the way to within a thumb-length of the point, which would be sharp and abrupt. That way, the reinforcement would be greater all along the blade, although it would still bend under the leverage from the shaft."

  "What shaft? I want no shaft on this." He looked at me as if I had lost my wits. "In any case," I went on, giving him no chance to argue, "the shaft is not important right now. Let's get the blade fixed up, first. I like your idea. It obviously adds strength. But we still have to reinforce the thing. How do we do that?"

  "Same way I reinforced this spearhead. Make the spine an iron bar."

  "No, I don't think so. You said yourself, that doesn't give enough support to the edges. What if we merely thicken the blade?"

  "How? Like what?"

  I drew him a quick sketch. "Like this. Start it oblong in section and then round it."

  He looked at my drawing. "Boudicca's belly, Varrus, that's just like a gladium!"

  I grinned. "It is, when you draw it like that, and it will be when you make it. Except that it will be far longer and totally different. I'm serious, Equus. The proportions are different. One-third along the length from the shaft, this blade will be thinner in section than the gladium. Two-thirds along, it will be thinner still."

  His eyes narrowed. "You mean a two-way taper?"

  I nodded. "Yes. I told you it would be technically difficult."

  "Aye, you did. You were right, t
oo. But it's not impossible. What about the thick end of the blade? How steep a plunge there?"

  "Vertical. I want it flat-ended, just like a gladium, with a tang two handsbreadths long."

  "A tang!" His voice was leaden. "So, we've designed a sword! Now, can you tell me how we're going to engineer a fulcrum point that will balance this thing?"

  "I think I can, Equus, but I won't know until I've tried it. I have a thought in mind, though, that might work. When can you start on this?"

  He never got the chance to answer me, for the door was flung open and one of the household servants stumbled in.

  "Commander Varrus! We're being attacked!"

  XXI

  It usually took me about five minutes to stroll from the house to the forge. Today, at my fastest speed, it seemed to take twice as long. Men were running in every direction, but there seemed to be no panic. I could hear trumpets blaring in the distance and I recognized one of our centurions as he strode past me in the gathering dark. I grabbed his arm as he swept past, oblivious to my presence, and asked him what was going on. He blinked at me in surprise.

  "Commander? I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see you. It's Vegetius Sulla, sir. His place is under attack."

  "Under attack? By whom?"

  "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know. Don't think anyone does."

  Vegetius Sulla's place! This caught me totally off guard. Of all our villas in the Colony, his was the one generally thought to be the safest from attack, since it was the most south-westerly of all, guarded by high, hostile hills at its back, with nothing to the south and east for thirty miles except the high, rolling plains that led to Stonehenge.

  "Who raised the alarm?"

  "A patrol of our own men, sir. They saw smoke and went to investigate, and turned up a nest of snakes. Wiped out, except for one fellow who managed to get away and bring the word back, and it doesn't look as though he'll live."

  "How many raiders? Did he say?"

  "They couldn't tell, Commander. They didn't get close enough to see them. They were ambushed on the way in."

  "How do you know so much and so little, man?"

  "I was on duty at the gate when he came in, sir. Took him up to the main villa."

  "All right. Get about your business." I limped on at top speed, cursing my lame leg for the first time in years.

  The courtyard and the house were ablaze with lights as men with torches scurried everywhere. Stablemen were gathering horses and the cobbled yard was a madhouse. The same four members of Picus's escort were standing at the main entrance to the house itself, a four-man island of immobility in a sea of chaos. I went right to them.

  "Is Legate Picus here?"

  "Inside, Commander."

  I passed them and made my way through the crush and into the house, where the first person I saw was my wife, white-faced but calm, although her eyes were full of apprehension. This was the first time real danger had ever come close to her. I crossed to meet her as she came towards me and took her in my arms. She was trembling. I kissed her, hugging her hard, heedless of who was watching.

  "Don't look so worried," I whispered. "They'll never even threaten to come here. This place is in no danger. Where is everyone?"

  "In Caius's day-room. What will you need?"

  "My armour, and some food. There may not be much time to eat in the next few days, so I'd like some bread and cheese and some wine to take with me."

  "Gallo has all of that in hand. He set the kitchen staff to work as soon as the news arrived. He's laying out your armour now, personally."

  "Good. I'll go and put it on while he's still there. It'll be quicker if he helps me. Then I'll join the others. Where are the children?"

  "With their nurse, Annika. She will keep them safe and out of the way."

  "Fine. I have to go." I kissed her again and headed for my rooms.

  "Publius?" I turned back to her. "Be careful. Don't get hurt, will you?"

  I winked at her. "No, I won't get hurt. I'll take my bow and arrows. That way, nobody will even get close to me."

  With Gallo's help on the buckles, I was able to get into my armour in minutes, conscious of the thickness of my waist and hips inside the unyielding harness. A few minutes later, my helmet tucked under my left arm, I joined the war council. As I entered Caius's day-room, all talk stopped abruptly.

  "Excuse me for being so late. I came as quickly as I could when I heard the news. What's going on?" My eyes swept the room. There was Caius himself, Picus, some of our senior officers — and Vegetius Sulla. My eyebrows shot up in surprise to see him there.

  "Varrus," he nodded, a strained smile on his face. "I stopped by here on my way home from Aquae Sulis this afternoon. I was just preparing to go on my way when the news arrived. Caius Britannicus would not allow me to leave alone then."

  "Quite right. There's nothing you could do alone, and if you ride with us, you'll get there in one piece, at least. Is your wife with you?"

  "No. I left her at home. With my sons."

  "Well, let us hope we find them alive and well. What's happened so far?"

  It was Picus who answered me. "We don't know for certain. One of our patrols was ambushed ..."

  I interrupted him. "I've already heard that. They were probably careless, not looking for danger there. So we don't know how many raiders there are?"

  "No. We have to assume they're in strength. They could only have come up from the south coast, overland. By any other route, they would have been seen and reported. And to have the confidence to come so far inland, they must be strong in numbers."

  "That's a long march. You're right. There must be an army of them. So what steps are we taking?"

  "General assembly call's gone out." This was Plautus. "If the response is as good as it's been in training, our men should be assembled at the training ground in half an hour."

  "Half an hour from now?"

  "No. From when the call went out."

  "And then?"

  "Sulla's place is to the south and west of here, about three hours away by forced march at night."

  "Picus?"

  As I spoke his name, he turned to me. "You're in command, Varrus."

  "Nonsense. You are the serving legate. I fought long enough beside your father to have confidence in his son. Will you lead our cavalry?"

  "Gladly!" He looked at his father who nodded his approval.

  "General? Any suggestions as to how we might best tackle this?"

  He shook his head. "No, Publius. Our men have trained for this for years. Now we can gauge the value of our methods. Picus, the infantry will follow your cavalry at the forced march. They should not be far behind you by the time you arrive. How do you want them deployed?"

  Picus was deep in thought, his eyes on Vegetius Sulla, who was rubbing his hands together as though washing them, plainly beside himself in his anxiety to be gone from here. "Vegetius," he said. "I have not seen your home since boyhood, but I remember an open field to the north-east of the main buildings. Is it still there?" Vegetius nodded. "Bounded by that little wood to the north? And by the river?" Sulla nodded again. "Good." Picus turned back to us. "Varrus and I will take the cavalry and swing south, cutting off the road back to where these people came from. We will then turn and attack at first light, driving the enemy north, away from the farm.

  "Vegetius, you will take us to your home by the shortest route. We will leave you there to wait for Plautus and his infantry. See to it that they are concealed among the woods and that they stay there, hidden, until we start to drive these people into their arms. Then when the time comes, form your battle lines in the open field and we'll crush these lice between the hammer and the anvil."

  In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I found myself wanting to smile at the reference. It brought back memories. Picus, meanwhile, was still talking.

  "We have to improvise with what we have, gentlemen. Until we know the enemy's strength, we will be unable to make a sound military disposition of our troops, but we
do have our cavalry hammer and we have our infantry anvil, and the enemy, no matter how strong he is, doesn't know we exist. So let's go and introduce ourselves."

  Britannicus stopped me on my way out of the room. "A word with you, Varrus."

  "General?"

  He smiled at me, a sad smile. "No more, my friend. In spite of Stilicho's warrant, I am grown old, quite suddenly. Too old to go to war."

  "But not to plan."

  "No, never too old for that. Observe my son for me, Publius. I believe he is as good as they say he is. You will be my judge."

  "Don't worry, Caius. You have bred an imperator. It shines through his eyes. He's just as you were, thirty years ago." I saluted him and left him standing there, my heart heavy at the parting.

  The ride to the south-west was hellish. The land was heavily treed, and had Vegetius Sulla himself not been there to lead us, we would have had to take the long route in the black of night. As it was, he led us across country by some fairly open ways he knew of. It was a cloudy night with a brisk, warm wind and a full moon. When we were in the open, the moon's light showed the fields clearly, when it was not obscured by clouds, but in the darkness of the woods the going was the stuff of nightmares, with men being knocked from their mounts continually by unseen branches. It took us just over two hours to reach Sulla's lands. A sullen, red glow flickered in the distance. Vegetius raised his arm to call a halt and turned to Picus and me.

  "We're about two miles from the home farm. That's it there, burning. The big blaze on the left." His voice sounded dead, and I found myself admiring his calm self-discipline in not demanding that we charge the place immediately. But his next words showed me the true mettle of the man. "I have it in my mind that my wife and sons are dead. If I am right, I want to be avenged on those that killed them. All of them, not just the few we would catch if we were to charge up on them now. If, on the other hand, my family are being held, then they are safe enough for now and probably asleep. Any damage done to them will have been done long since. I'll be avenged for that, too, if it is so." He paused, sitting his horse in silence for a time before going on.