‘Six days, it is,’ Piso decided. ‘If no help has come by then, it will not matter and we may as well feast as long as we can. I take it that there is some wine left. Good. And thank you, lady, for all your efforts. I am so sorry that… Well, just take it that I am sorry. Now, Ferox and I will plan our strategies for holding this “acropolis” – or as Romans perhaps we should say our Capitol – and I think everyone else should get as much rest as they can. Thank you, all.
‘The enemy will take most of their army and go,’ Piso said after the others had gone. ‘Today or tomorrow, but now that they can cross the bridge at will, they need only leave a thousand or so here to slaughter us and the rest can march for the river.’
‘Perhaps, my lord.’
‘If help is to come in time then an army must already be on its way.’
‘Hadrian promised to do his best.’
Piso sniffed scornfully. ‘I do not care to rely on the lisping Graeculus,’ he said. ‘Any fellow who sports a beard and is fonder of boys than women cannot be sound. Still, we have no choice, and my revered legatus is an ambitious man, there is no doubt of that. You have nothing to say, centurion?’
‘Not my place, sir.’ Ferox did not know that Hadrian was called the ‘little Greek’, although it did not surprise him. As far as he could tell, senators were as catty about each other as any group of fashionable young women.
‘Is it not? I do wonder what your place – or mine for that matter – is, given our circumstances. Well, it does not much matter. If somehow we can cling on here for a few days – I see no prospect of as many as six, but that is beside the point. We should not have lasted this long and Hadrian is a rational man, so he will surely expect us to be dead.’
‘He probably does not know that you are here, lord.’
‘Might be best that way. But he will balance the odds and judge that even the most heroic garrison must be dead by now. Which means that he will not hurry, and even if he is able to defeat the enemy army, he may not come to our aid in time.’ Piso paused, leaning forward on the table. ‘We need to send a message to him, so that he knows that we hold out and will hurry. He will not be able to resist the glory of saving the last remnant of the garrison, let alone two ladies, one of them well connected.’
Ferox knew what was coming, but was not about to volunteer.
‘You are the man to go,’ Piso said.
‘Forgive me, my lord, but my place is here, trying to make sure that we are still alive if relief does come.’
‘It is an order, not a request, centurion. The time for ingenuity in defence is gone, so I am sure that I can do whatever is needed almost as well as you could.’ The tribune smiled at this false modesty. ‘What I cannot do is creep through the night as quietly as a wolf. Is that not what they call your folk, the wolf people?’
‘I am always told that my people are the Romans, my lord.’
‘Don’t be obtuse. You are one of the Silures and they take pride in fighting at night. Don’t look so surprised. Even a tribune can read a book now and then or listen to the tales the soldiers tell of you here. You might get out of the fort, sneak past those enemy left behind and – when the time comes – their main army to reach Hadrian or whoever is coming to our rescue. Or if not get to Dobreta and at the very least take a report of what you and all the rest of us have done here. I’d rather my family know that I have done my duty for the Senate and People – and for the emperor, not that he likes us much.’
‘But, my lord—’
‘No buts. You go or I place you under arrest.’ There was a hardness in his eyes and his right hand strayed to the bone handle of his sword. ‘I doubt that anyone would question if I ordered your execution without trial – and the odds are strongly that I won’t be alive to answer any questions they do raise. You are going, centurion, and if threats do not persuade, then think that this will give a chance to save your friends here. And your wife. If you don’t want to save her then you are a fool. So you go tonight or you die. I have no time or patience for arrest.’
Ferox did not have his sword, for Vindex had offered to hone the edge and he had left the blade with the scout. There was a long stylus on the table, its point sharp enough to drive through the tribune’s throat if he got the chance, and a heavy local bowl in which Piso had washed his hands at the start of the meeting, if he chose to take Vindex’s suggestion and knock the aristocrat on the head. The problem was that he began to think that the fool might be right. Either way, this was not the moment. He relaxed.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good,’ Piso said, taking this as acceptance. Then I shall write an account of the days since I left the hospital and you will write one of the siege up until that point. Apart from the message you carry in your head, these words will tell our story, so that the truth will be known even if we perish. So go away and write. There will be plenty of time for us to plan how you are to get out of the fort later on. I would suggest taking Ivonercus with you and perhaps some other Brigantes. If you run into trouble they can always pose as deserters and maybe you can all talk your way through. That rogue, Sosius, may be useful too. He is Hadrian’s man, so his words will be all the stronger.
‘And do not look so glum, Flavius Ferox. We may all be dead before nightfall!’
The Dacians did not attack, apart from sending arrows at anyone who moved in the open. With the ramparts and wall towers well above them, a man had to crouch close to the barricades to walk in any sort of safety. At noon the sentry on their own tower shouted down that large bands of Dacians were crossing the bridge, and in the hours that followed the flow continued, with waggons and mules as well as warriors.
Ferox had to admit that Piso was right about that, and the main army was continuing its advance, so he set to his task of writing a day-by-day account of the defence of the fort. The truth did matter, the tribune was also right about that, so he tried to remember every piece of bravery and name the men who had done it. Now and again he went back to read what he had written and struggled to believe that these things had happened.
Philo brought him food as the hours passed, and still he wrote, forcing his weary mind to concentrate and get it all right. He ate one-handed as he lifted one of the wooden tablets and read the tiny words. The door opened again, but he did not look up for it was surely Philo. Then it closed and he heard the key click in the lock. This was normally a storage room for records, and all such places had locks on the door. He was never sure why. Perhaps the army worried that a deranged soldier would break in and tamper with long forgotten duty rosters and reports.
Claudia Enica raised an eyebrow. ‘I never took you for an author.’ She was in her tunic and boots, with her hair loose around her shoulders. ‘Sulpicia and I want you.’
Ferox did his best to mimic her fondness for arching an eyebrow in studied surprise.
‘She would have come as well, but that would no doubt have prompted some lewd male humour.’
‘You’re thinking of Vindex, my lady.’
‘Yes, well, if he did not have that unfortunate face and filthy mind and if he had those few virtues you possess, perhaps I would have been better off marrying him.
‘You’re going to sneak out. Don’t look surprised. I am queen, it is my part in life to know as much as I can about what is happening. In this case it was simple. When we were all dismissed, I lingered at the door and listened. It is a method I have adopted since I was a small child and is often efficacious. There was a sentry, but he did not mind.’
‘Dazzled by your beauty, of course.’
‘Naturally. Well I know what Piso has ordered and I have spoken to Lepidina and Vindex and no one else. We all think that you should go. Am I right in thinking that you were wondering about bludgeoning our noble tribune over the head instead of going? You see, I know you better than you think. You must go because it is our best hope of coming through this. And along with everything else you will take two letters. One is from Lepidina in case it ever can reach Cerialis.
The other is from me to our girls. No need to pull that face. I am not wholly uncaring whatever you may think.’
‘I have never thought that.’ He stood up, then hesitated. ‘Why don’t you come with me? You are not a Silure, but—’
‘Thank the gods for that,’ she interrupted.
‘But you are a Sister and move well.’
Claudia Enica wiggled her hips and then became serious. ‘We cannot all go, and I cannot leave the others behind while I am safe.’
‘Safe? The odds are not good.’
‘Yet you want me to come? What sort of husband are you?’
‘A poor one,’ he said, stepping forward so that he could put his hands on her waist. ‘But I try my best.’
‘Hmmm,’ she murmured. ‘And you have not asked why I have not written a message for you.’
‘Because I rather hoped that you would…’ He stopped because she stood on her toes and kissed him.
‘That I would deliver it in person?’ she said after a moment. ‘Now there’s an idea.’
Ferox was mildly surprised that the old and poorly made table took the strain. The chair was a bit sturdier and even that creaked a good deal. The afternoon passed and as far as he could tell the Dacians did not attack.
‘We should get about our business,’ she said, and giggled when he deliberately misunderstood and the table was tested again. Later still, she sat on his lap, bare save for her boots.
‘Why do you like me to keep these on?’ she asked.
‘So you can always run away if you choose to,’ he said, his mind blissfully hazy and unable to think of anything witty.
‘If anyone has been listening to us they will be very jealous.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘Most of the men fancy me.’ He dodged a slap.
‘Take Vepoc as well as Ivonercus,’ she said, once again the queen.
‘Aren’t they both sworn to kill me?’ Even if Enica wanted to return to business, Ferox was determined to make the most of this moment and started to kiss her neck.
‘Yes, but it will be a mark of faith and trust to take them with you.’
He pulled away. ‘Lovely.’
‘And do not trust Sosius.’
‘I never have.’
‘Then trust even less. He must go for he is Hadrian’s man, but from what I have seen and from what Bran and poor Minura said, he is bad and a very dangerous man.’
‘So I am going then.’
‘You are going. The tribune says so, and much more importantly so do I.’
Ferox sighed. ‘You have just given me a lot of good reasons to stay here with you.’
The queen freed herself from his grasp and stood up. ‘Well you will not have any more of those reasons until you have saved us all.’ She bent down to pick up her scattered clothes and Ferox bit his lip rather than risk a comment.
‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Go – but come back.’
‘I do not trust Piso either.’
‘Jealous, eh? Think I want you out the way for that reason?’
‘Of course not.’
‘So I am too old, too plain.’ The old Claudia was back now. He still found it hard to cope with so many very different women all inside the same person. She laughed and took pity. ‘I reckon he would try if he thought that he had a chance. Be the last thing he ever tried, and I suspect he knows that now.’
They finished dressing in silence and when they were done she again reached up and this time pecked him on the cheek.
‘I did not think that it would be like this.’
The urge to say something flippant about a man trying his best died as he saw the emotion in her eyes.
‘The fighting just goes on and on, and so many fall.’ Sometimes the smoothness with which she killed made it easy to forget that she had seen little of war.
‘It can be just hard work and butchery,’ he said. ‘And luck matters more than skill.’
‘How have you stood it all these years?’ she asked. ‘I do not believe that I would ever again seek this out, save only to defend my own family and folk.’
Ferox was not sure what to say because he did not know what the answer was. Much of his life had been spent in fighting and killing and seeing friends die. It was not that he was used to it, but it was easier and he no longer really knew any other life. Somehow he kept surviving and then the next fight would come and he was still there at the end of that.
‘Better to feel the sorrow than not be alive to feel it,’ he said eventually, knowing it meant little. ‘I just seem to keep on living.’
‘That is because the souls in the Otherworld are in no hurry to have your gloomy face join them,’ she said. ‘Can’t say I blame them, either. So you keep living, husband.’ The seriousness had gone. ‘Your children need a father.’
‘And a mother.’
‘Oh, I’ll be all right. After all, you’re the one going off in the company of men sworn to kill you!’
XXVIII
Piroboridava
Seventh day before the Ides of July
PISO WAS LUCKY that he was hit by a falx swung one-handed rather than brought down with full force. The blow dented the top of his borrowed helmet and knocked the tribune out cold and the Dacian bounded over his body, calling for the others to follow.
This was the second attack of the day at the line of barrels and filled sacks between the praetorium and principia and there was little space to fight. Bran was limping, and was knocked off his feet when the warrior swung his shield. He rolled as he landed, and slashed his gladius at the Dacian’s ankle and felt the edge bite. The man screamed, dropping his shield and cutting down, but Bran rolled again out of the way, and Vindex chopped into the Dacian’s neck.
‘Up you get, lad. Between the two of us we’ve still got a pair of good legs.’
Another Dacian came at them, then hesitated as the two men spread as far apart as was possible in the alleyway. Vindex could see that the Brigantian and the legionary at the barricade were holding back the rest. He feinted to the right, drawing the man’s gaze, but the warrior was quick and parried his real attack. Then Bran slashed behind the Dacian’s right knee and he fell. Vindex stabbed down to finish the job. He was panting, his chest sore from a blow in the first attack that had not penetrated his mail, but had probably broken a rib or two.
The Dacians gave up for the moment, and judging from the quiet they had withdrawn everywhere else as well. An arrow zipped between Vindex and Bran and they did a lurching run to the shelter of the barricade. A slave and an auxiliary dragged the unconscious tribune away.
‘Bastards,’ Vindex said to no one in particular.
‘You should not have let him go,’ Bran said once again.
‘Will you let up? They didn’t ask me, did they, and wouldn’t have listened even if they had.’
‘Then we should have gone.’
‘Hopped our way there, I suppose.’
Bran lowered his voice. ‘I do not trust the tribune who sent him. He’s a useless shit.’ They were both peering over the top of the barricade, but could see no sign of any more warriors or of the archers.
Vindex guffawed. ‘I’m rubbing off on you, aren’t I? Well copy me, son, and you could end up a thousand miles from home on one leg and struggling to breathe! Oh bugger me, you already are.
‘Come on, you know him well enough to know he didn’t go because of that clown.’ Vindex had switched to the language of the tribes in the unlikely event that the legionary might take offence. ‘Herself told him to go. He’ll always do what she tells him. … Me too, for that matter. The queen said go, so he went. But he wouldn’t have gone unless we were here to keep an eye on her.’
‘You keep your eyes to yourself, Carvetian!’ Enica had come up so softly in her felt boots that they had not heard her. ‘I know what you’re like.’
‘You in charge now, my queen?’ Vindex asked. ‘With the tribune away with the fairies and Petrullus in the hospita
l.’
Enica kneeled beside them to shelter behind the barricade. ‘I have always been in charge, you should know that by now. I just let those daft men believe that they are important.’ She turned to the legionary. ‘How goes it, Lucius?’
‘Hanging on, lady. I’ll make the bastard res publica pay me my bounty yet. Sorry, lady, forgetting myself.’
‘When is your time up?’
‘November, would you believe it?’
‘Well drink one for me when the day comes.’
‘I will, lady, I will.’
‘Time for me to go,’ the queen said. ‘Now be good children, and don’t talk to strangers!’ She ran bent almost double, and either heard the swish of the arrow or guessed for she swung to the side to let it pass.
Vindex watched her go, his admiration obvious. ‘That one’s special and no doubt.’
Claudia Enica heard the compliment and let herself smile. She was going around the whole position, checking that all was well and doing her best to encourage. Ferox had once told her that an officer was often too busy to worry about the big things, because there was always so much to do and so many little things to worry about. Still, as she squatted behind barricades or climbed up to the rafters and peered cautiously through the holes they had made in the roofs, she could not help wondering whether her husband lived and where he was. A lookout spent the daylight hours on top of the tower, because the ladders leading up were exposed to archers on the ramparts and it was too risky to climb except at night. For all they could see there might be no more than four or five hundred Dacians left at the fort, but for the second day there was no sign of anyone else, whether the enemy’s main army or any Roman relief force.
The buildings were vulnerable, because there were few windows and it was also hard to fight through small holes like that. Stone or not, the Dacians had tried to pile up timber and start fires against several walls. So far, it had not worked, mainly because they had ripped rafters and tiles away so that men could perch and follow Achilles’ example by lobbing the tiles down at anyone who came close. The dwarf was doing well and might survive, assuming any of them did. Half the food would be gone by the end of this third day, and there was a steady trickle of losses each time the Dacians attacked. If they attacked on all sides at the same time, they would surely swamp the remnants of the garrison. The only reason she could think of why they had not done this was that they did not want to lose men when it was just a matter of days.
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