Casca 37: Roman Mercenary

by Tony Roberts

  The town had a simple grid pattern of streets with the forum in the center close to the river, and a small fort on the far side, close to the north-east gate. Some of the buildings showed signs of neglect and here and there round wooden huts had sprung up in spaces where no house had previously existed or one had burned in the recent past, possibly as a result of the town falling to the Alemanni.

  “Anyone want to comment on how we’re to do it?” Casca asked, looking left and right at the row of faces.

  “Walk up and demand entry,” Gerontius suggested. “We’re a warband, after all.”

  “Doubt they’d just open the gates like that,” Casca objected. “And we’re hardly dressed like Alemanni; more like a rag-tag band of all sorts. They’d be suspicious.”

  “Gunthar here is Alemanni,” Wulfila said. “They’d be familiar with his dialect and slang, surely. Any member of a tribe knows one from his own no matter where they meet.”

  “True enough,” Casca conceded and turned to Gunthar. “What about it? Feel up to fooling your tribal comrades in to letting us in for the night?”

  Gunthar scowled. “They’re not stupid; they’d want to know where we’ve been.”

  “Then it’s the women who’ll give us the excuse in that case,” Casca grunted. The others looked at him. “We’ve attacked and destroyed a Roman encampment and taken these six as prizes. No doubt one or two of them would readily confirm it. And you heard them say they’d take the option of submitting to the Alemanni back there when they were given the choice.”

  The men nodded and looked back at the huddled shapes of the women, clinging together for comfort and warmth. Flavius stood a little way from them, watching. None of the women made any effort to run. They appeared to be resigned to their fate. Casca slapped Mattias on the back. “Keep an eye on things down there. I’m going to speak to the women.”

  Mattias grunted and remained where he was while the others wriggled back off the skyline and crouched as they made their way back down to where the women waited. Once there they stood, safely out of sight of the town. Casca stood before them, his hands on his hips. “Right, this is how it’s going to go. We’re going down the hill after dark and will go to the gate and demand entry. We’ll find homes for you once we’re in the town, then we’ll be off on our way. If you cause any trouble you’ll be left out here to fend for yourself. Got it?”

  “You’re big on the talk, aren’t you?” the woman who’d spoken to Casca before, Julia, said with a burst of anger. “What if things don’t go as you hope?”

  “Then I’ll deal with that if and when that happens. Get yourselves ready to move. It won’t be long before it’s dark.” He waved the men to take up positions around the women as they got to their feet.

  Julia came up to him. “And what if nobody cares to take us? What then, warrior?”

  “They’ll be happy to have you in their homes,” Casca said. He looked at Julia closely. “You’re a widow, yes? You’ll be fine. They’ll fall over themselves for a woman like you.”

  As he walked off to rejoin Mattias, Julia smiled to herself, then composed her face and returned to the others.

  Mattias pointed at the gates, now shut. “Someone came along a moment ago in a mule and cart and they came out to examine it like flies on shit. There’s about a dozen of the ugly brutes on guard.”

  “Then we make no stupid move. Let’s go; it’s almost night.” The light had faded now and torches were being lit in the town. Slowly the group made their way down the grassy slope, trying to avoid rabbit holes or gullies left by rainwater, or the occasional root. Once they got to the bottom they walked towards the lit gatehouse, Gunthar leading, speaking as loudly as he liked. He was laughing and declaring how much wine and mead he was going to consume once he got to the inn and how many wenches were going to enjoy the attention of his loins.

  Not surprisingly the guards were ready for them as they came close. “Halt! Who goes there?” came the inevitable and unimaginative challenge.

  “Warband returning from raping and pillaging. We have wenches taken from the Roman scum!” Gunthar bellowed, loud enough to carry to the first few streets beyond.

  “What warband? We have none out from here!”

  “Gunthar of the tribe, you cloth-headed man! Do I look like a scrawny Latin?”

  The guard peered out from the gatehouse window, above the gates. “All of you come closer. Be careful, we have archers on the walls ready to stick you if you try anything cute!”

  The rest came into the pool of light thrown by the torches. Gunthar grabbed one of the young women and swung her to face the guards, all peering down at them. He wrenched open her top and thrust her bared breasts out. “Look at these titties; beauties, aren’t they?”

  The woman shrieked in outrage and struggled but Gunthar chuckled and held her fast. The German looked up at the goggling warriors. “Well she hasn’t got anything hidden, has she?”

  The guard sergeant grinned. “Let them in. Check them all, including the women,” he added to his companion, who leered in response.

  The gates slowly opened inwards and a group of armed guards appeared, cautiously guiding Casca’s men and the women into the town. As the doors behind them shut, the guard sergeant faced Gunthar. “I’ve not seen you before. Where are you from?”

  “Argentoratum. We’re on the way back there. Got separated from the main band and spent a little time looking around. Not much in the way of Roman soldiers, are there? We killed a group of renegade Romans up in the hills which is where we got these bitches from.” He grabbed the same women again which elicited a squeal of fright from her. He leered down at her chest which was only just covered, the tunic having been torn badly. “Good women for bed warming, eh?”

  “They Latin women?” the sergeant asked, staring at them closely.

  “I think so; they say they’re from here originally.”

  The sergeant grunted and walked amongst the others, escorted by two burly soldiers, all wearing long hair and beards. They looked slovenly but would be excellent fighters. They still had the lean, hungry look of the tribesmen from beyond the Rhine. Casca watched as they closely examined each and every one of them.

  “You’ve got Latins amongst your group,” the sergeant stated, looking at Gerontius and Flavius. “Like to explain?”

  Instantly the other Alemanni snapped into a guard posture, spears leveled at the mercenaries. The women shrank back into a frightened group. The air was tense.

  Gunthar snickered. “Former frontiersmen who threw their lot in with us, especially after that turd in Gaul declared independence from Rome – whatever his name is.”

  The sergeant curled a lip in contempt. “Turncoats? I don’t trust turncoats. Just as likely to turn sides again. You ought to kill them.”

  Gunthar slapped his thighs. “They’d be executed if they returned to their emperor. You should have seen them kill those renegades up in the hills. Bloodthirsty bastards they are.”

  “Indeed?” the sergeant sounded skeptical. “What’s your name, Roman?” he demanded of Flavius, the nearest to him.

  Flavius looked confused. He didn’t understand what had been said to him. He looked at Casca for help.

  “My name’s Casca,” the scarred warrior said in as bad an accent as he could muster.

  “I’m not asking you! Shut it.” The sergeant turned back to Flavius. “Well?”

  Flavius guessed what he’d been asked. He gave his name. The sergeant grunted. He stepped past him and puffed out his chest at Gerontius. “And you?”

  He got the reply. Mattias was next, saying little. The sergeant filled his lungs. “A damned Burgundian! What the devil?” He whirled on Gunthar. You keep strange companions. We’ve been having trouble with them over the past few months. They seem to want what we have. That new king of theirs is a damned upstart. He’ll come down to earth before long, mark my words.”

  “He’s got no love for Gundahar – that bastard killed his father.”

 
The sergeant looked interested in Mattias. “Is that true?”

  “It is,” Mattias nodded. “May Gundahar’s balls rot in hades.”

  The sergeant and some of the guards laughed. “They probably will!” He glanced at the two cousins. “And what are you two?”

  Wulfila lifted his head. “We are of the Greuthungi. Displaced warriors.”

  “Oh, them.” The sergeant dismissed the tribe with an offhand flick of his fingers. “Well you’re in our territory now so you’d best behave. The local chieftain doesn’t take to troublemakers. And now the women.” He stepped up to the first and took her face and examined her critically. The woman gasped and slapped at his arm.

  “Oh, a feisty one!” the sergeant declared. “What’re her tits like?” He grabbed her breasts and rubbed them. The woman cried out and slapped him across the face. There was a moment’s silence, then the sergeant roared in delight. “Damn! She’s got spirit! I like that! She looks healthy too.” He seized hold of her buttocks. “Nice child-bearing hips!”

  The woman battered away at the sergeant who ignored her, pinning her arms to her side. “You can bear me sons! I’ll take this one. Let them pass.”

  The guards crowded around and began to argue over what women they would have. Casca took Julia by the arm. “Come on, with us while they’re fighting over which they’ll take.”

  “But the women...” she objected.

  “Will have a home and a man, and protection and a life. In time they’ll have children too and settle down. Better than taking a chance out there. Like it or not, the tribes have this town now and no emperor is likely to take it back. There just isn’t the manpower.”

  The group wandered into the town, Julia amongst them. She began pointing out the places of interest, scowling when the saw wreckage or the remains of a building that had been burned. The streets were filthy and strewn with dirt and debris. Nobody had taken it upon themselves to clear them, and the stone was slowly being hidden underneath the detritus of civilization. Casca wondered if it would ever see the light of day again. The faint scent of charred wood still hung about the place.

  We want a place to rest,” Casca said.

  “Over there,” Julia pointed. “The only inn here.”

  Predictably it was still in use and raucous singing could be heard coming from it. The doors had been torn off their hinges and a large gap now stood through which figures could be seen sat at tables or stood upon them, roaring at the top of their voices.

  The others looked at Casca. “We go there?” Gunthar asked, a smile on his face.

  “Why not?” Casca shrugged. “Arrange your own digs and entertainment. Flavius, if you’re drunk tomorrow morning I’m leaving you here.”

  Flavius winced, but nodded.

  Casca took Julia by the waist and pushed in ahead of the others. Filling his lungs he bellowed for the gottdamned schwein to step aside and allow him and his woman to get to the important part of the tavern. Startled, the first few tribesmen stepped back as Casca walked through, tugging a hesitant Julia with him. Eyes switched to the athletic woman who was a much better sight. The two big Germans who followed dissuaded any thought of challenging Casca’s passage, and the four who came after ensured that nobody got brave enough to gang up on them. Taking on three might be profitable, but not seven.

  Casca pushed aside two hairy blond muscular types and reached the bar. “Lodgings for the night, innkeeper.”

  The innkeeper, a middle-aged man with receding long hair and a beard, regarded Casca with distaste. “Do you have anything to pay for it?”

  The mercenary threw a few coins onto the top and held the innkeeper’s gaze. “Enough?”

  “Hmph! Yes,” the innkeeper said sourly, pocketing the coins. He gave Julia a good examination, liking what he saw. His face brightened. “I can get a meal for you, and drinks.”

  “Good enough,” Casca agreed. “Show us our room.”

  Julia, not understanding the conversation, looked at Casca in puzzlement as he led her after the innkeeper through the narrow and dark passageway to the rear where the guest rooms stood. All were small, rudimentary and showing signs of neglect. They hadn’t been used in a while.

  The furnishings were still in good condition, however, and the straw on the bed was clean enough, if a little musty. The sheets were provided by the innkeeper, a little dirty but good enough, and Casca threw them onto the bed.

  Julia stared at him. “You wish me to sleep with you?”

  “Of course,” Casca said, switching to Latin. “We won’t see one another again after this night, and I’ve been fancying a night with you since we first came across you in your camp.”

  “You’ve got a nerve, warrior,” Julia said fiercely. “You kill my friends, drag me and those other women here, abandon them and then bring me here so you can satisfy your desires before going on your way, leaving me here alone with God knows what future in store for me.”

  Casca shook his head. “I won’t leave you alone. That innkeeper certainly fancies you – he was fit to piss in my eye until he got a good look at you. He’s a little older than you are but he’s got a good business here and he doesn’t seem to be the type to go off on war expeditions and get killed.”

  “What if I don’t fancy him?”

  “You want a lonely life? You’re a widow. Want to be alone forever?” Casca’s face darkened. His immortality meant he was often alone for long periods, and it hurt him. He took a deep breath. “I want you right now, woman, and I think you want me too.”

  “You’re an arrogant swine,” she said before Casca clamped his mouth on hers and kissed her long and hard. She twisted her head to one side but he held her fast, and she couldn’t use her fists as he had her pinned against the wall. After a moment of pushing, she felt his hands running down her sides. It had been a long time – too long – since a man had felt her like that, and a warmth spread through her. With a sigh she relaxed and forgot about resisting. To be truthful, she did need a man, and she felt herself being picked up and carried to the bed, and then her clothes were quickly and expertly removed.

  Casca had bedded many women in his four hundred years, and used those centuries of experience to bring Julia to full arousal. She didn’t resist, being sunk into a world of passion and longing, and her arms pulled him down onto her. Crying out softly she begged him to enter her, and he did, bringing fresh waves of pleasure to her. Lost totally, she closed her eyes and ran her fingers down his back as he made love to her.

  Casca cried, too, but his tears were those of bitterness and self-pity. Alone, he knew this woman would be nothing to him for he must carry on to wherever he must go. He would love to settle down with a woman like this but his condition made that impossible; how many women had he left once they began to look at him that way when he stayed the same and they began to age?

  And now his surrogate parent, the empire, was dying. So he cried for the loss and the impending loss. The loss of his mortality and a normal life of loving a woman like any other man could, and the impending loss of the one touchstone he had with his past.

  Later, as they lay alongside one another, Julia spoke. “You could set up a home here with me, Casca. Why do you seek to palm me off on another?”

  Casca rolled onto his side. “I must go on to another place, and then return from whence I came. After that there is another job, and another. I cannot settle down, nor stay in one place. I have my personal demons, and no woman can live with them. I’m really sorry, Julia. You’re a beautiful woman. If I had a different life, well, yes, I could very well see myself enjoying a long life with you. But…. not this life.” He ended it on a bitter note, and Julia looked at him in surprise.

  “You’re a man of surprises, Casca. For a man who lives a life of death and violence, you’re surprisingly gentle and considerate in bed. Not many men are that. So many use women for their own selfish needs and leave us unsatisfied.”

  Casca nodded. “I have known many women, and seen many things you wouldn�
��t believe. I see the harm people do. As you say, I’m a man who lives amongst violence and death, but I long for moments like this that take me away from that life, even if it is for a brief time. It makes my life bearable.”

  Julia traced a line down his face with a finger. “I was barren inside – a dead feeling after my husband died. You’ve awoken me tonight. I know I need a man now. And if you’re not going to be that man, then I shall have to choose another.” She sighed and lay back. “Even if it’s with one of these God awful barbarians. I don’t speak their language.”

  “An advantage; you can insult them and they won’t know what you’re saying.”

  She smiled. “It’s better if they do. I get more pleasure that way.”

  Casca chuckled. “Then you’d best learn fast. First though, let’s have something to eat,” he said and picked up the tray that had been left by the innkeeper by their door. He’d obviously arrived in the middle of them being distracted by one another and left it without a word.

  “Did he arrive while we were …..?” Julia asked, wide-eyed.

  Casca nodded and began eating, not bothered in the slightest. Julia though was shocked. Casca chuckled for a moment and encouraged her to eat, which she did after expressing embarrassment. Casca thought the innkeeper probably had taken a good look at her and had been impressed. She had certainly been energetic.

  Later, after more love making, Casca had silently slipped out of the bed and dressed, leaving her lying there sleeping, a slight smile on her lips. He looked at her one last time, wishing for perhaps the thousandth time he could have a normal life, and then picked up his pack and left, cursing softly as the cold air struck him. He looked out through a window. The sky was dark and a stiff breeze blew from the east.

  He wandered along the corridor and roused the innkeeper who was slumped sleeping against the bar. The entire room was littered with snoring, sleeping men. Leaving a few instructions with the innkeeper and a request he took in Julia, which he readily agreed to, he then sought out his men.