by Brown, Nick
Mutilus and the legionaries pressed forward to protect Carnifex and within moments a vicious melee had erupted.
Cassius and Indavara got ready to charge the door.
‘Let me,’ they said simultaneously.
Annia lifted up the latch and pushed the unlocked door open.
The three of them ran out into the darkness. Another party of torch-carrying Maseene were coming down the street towards them, attracted by the sounds of the fight.
‘Here.’
Cassius led the other two in the opposite direction and behind one of the stone cisterns as the tribesmen ran into the villa.
‘Now what?’ asked Indavara once the warriors had disappeared. ‘We don’t have a weapon between us and Annia’s out on her feet. We need somewhere to hide up until dawn.’
Cassius had already given this issue a little thought. ‘Follow me.’
‘Are you sure about this?’ Indavara whispered as they reached the top of the steps, stopping briefly to look out at the Via Cyrenaica. There were fewer Maseene close to the fires, but the scattered torches still seemed to surround them.
‘Last place they’d look, isn’t it?’
Cassius dragged his eyes away from the road and let them get used to the dark again. Passing the smaller columns, he reached the stairway that led up to the right side of the temple’s uncompleted antechambers. Beneath the film of dust, the stone was cold to the touch as he felt his way upwards. He waited for Indavara and Annia to reach the turn, then continued round the corner and up. The bare section of flooring formed a platform about ten yards off the ground. In daylight the position would be dangerously exposed; in darkness its only disadvantage was the lack of an escape route.
Though the slabs of stone felt reassuringly solid, Cassius moved carefully to the middle of the platform. Indavara brought Annia over to him and they sat her down. She had managed to keep hold of the blanket and they wrapped her up in it as best they could, tucking the edges underneath. She managed a mumbled ‘Thank you’ before lying down between them.
Cassius had lost his canteen somewhere so they didn’t even have any water to drink. He and Indavara were wearing only their tunics and the cold of the stone seeped swiftly into their bones.
‘Wonder where Eborius and Noster are,’ said Cassius.
‘I’m more worried about Carnifex,’ replied Indavara.
‘I doubt he got out of that villa. Thank the gods for quick-thinking young tribesmen.’
‘I wouldn’t put anything past that old bastard.’
‘He knew we would try and cross the road here. They were just waiting for us.’
Cassius looked down at Annia as she turned on to her side. She was still shivering terribly, her bare head against the cold stone.
He unlaced one of his boots and pulled it off. ‘Hope she doesn’t mind the smell. Gods, I need a wash.’ He gently lifted her head and placed the boot underneath. ‘Poor girl. What she’s been through today.’
‘Made a right mess of your plan, didn’t she?’
‘At least she might lose a little bit of that arrogant streak, assuming we get out of here alive.’ Cassius couldn’t see much of Indavara’s face in the darkness but he could tell he was still looking down at Annia. ‘You really do like her, don’t you?’
Indavara didn’t reply.
‘Well,’ Cassius continued. ‘Stranger things have happened. And she seems to like you too.’
‘I’m not so sure. I think it was just a game to her.’
‘I did tell you ladies can be difficult. If we ever make it back to Antioch in one piece we’ll get ourselves a nice pair of hearth girls to do our bidding and provide our every need. No complications. Sound good?’
Cassius could hear the smile in Indavara’s voice. ‘It does.’
He looked out towards the harbour, but still couldn’t tell if the Fortuna was there.
‘You think they’ve already left?’ asked Indavara.
‘Not if Simo has anything to do with it.’
‘And if they have?’
Cassius was still trying not to think about that. They might have stood a chance with Eborius to guide them, but alone, unarmed, and with Annia in such a state?
‘Look at it this way, we’re in a better position than we were at that accursed pit, so whatever our predicament, I’m going to consider the last few hours progress.’
Indavara lay down.
‘You’re sleeping?’ Cassius asked.
‘Resting.’
Cassius sat there in the darkness, knees drawn up to his chin, arms tight around them. He thought again of the pit; of what Indavara had told him when they’d both thought they were about to die. It all made sense now. He never said anything about his family and his past because he didn’t know anything. And that almost childlike naivety – he knew so little of life and the world because all he had ever known was the arena.
Cassius actually had his mouth open, ready to say something, but he stopped himself. Now wasn’t the time; they needed to rest. He put his head against his knees and closed his eyes.
XXXIV
Only once during the night did the Maseene get close. Dozing fitfully, Cassius woke when he heard their shouts and crawled to the side of the platform. He looked out through the temple’s pillars but the tribesmen were moving fast, on their way back to the road. He had no idea of the hour but there were far fewer torches alight and most of the warriors seemed to have gathered around the fire in the square. Once more he looked for the Fortuna but he saw nothing, no light, no sign to give him hope. Indavara stirred too but lay down again when he realised nothing was wrong. Like him, Cassius stretched out close to Annia – to try and provide her with a little warmth. She was sleeping soundly now and had at last stopped shivering.
When Cassius closed his eyes there was no comfort or peace, only the blurry noise of what he had seen and endured over the last few hours. Those two seemingly endless journeys: one across the grassy plains, one through the darkened streets. And the terror of that last pursuit, with Carnifex and the murderous men of the First Century right behind them.
And worst of all, the gorge. Soldiers and horses tumbling into that black hole, falling to places only the gods knew. Had some of them survived, only to look back at the light, call out for salvation? Or had they just kept falling, falling, falling …
He was snatched out of the dream by a hand shaking his arm. Indavara’s green eyes were smiling. The sky beyond him was several shades lighter than when Cassius had fallen asleep. As he sat up, Indavara pointed towards the sea.
The Fortuna Redux was lying peacefully at anchor not a quarter-mile from the shore, a similar distance east of the harbour. The yard was raised, the oars were out, and several figures could be seen moving around on deck.
‘Thank the great gods,’ said Cassius.
‘It gets better,’ said Indavara, glancing down at the road.
Though some of the fires were still alight, the Maseene were lying down by the roadside, covered with blankets and hides. The only man on his feet was relieving himself into a bush. He weaved his way back towards the fire and collapsed onto his makeshift bed.
‘The wine,’ said Cassius.
‘Or maybe they did finish off Carnifex and the others,’ replied Indavara. ‘Maybe they think there’s no one left to fight.’
‘What about Eborius and Noster?’
‘We have to go while we have the chance.’
Cassius looked down at Annia, who had just woken. Now there was a little light, he could see the blood that had seeped through the wrappings on her feet.
‘Agreed. Let’s move.’
Cassius pulled the blanket away and helped her sit up.
‘Annia, the Fortuna is there, see? We have to go now.’
She pushed her hair from her eyes and gripped his arm when she saw the ship. There was even a trace of a smile.
Cassius’s throat was horribly dry. Resisting the temptation to cough, he crawled across the platform, his stiff
limbs resisting every command. He waited for the others, then they slowly made their way down to the temple floor. He looked around but could see no sign of anyone close. The cold morning air was bitter with smoke from the Maseene fires.
Annia winced as she came down the last few steps.
‘One last effort, miss,’ said Cassius. ‘Simo will look after you as soon as we’re back aboard.’
He set off through the half-completed temple towards the road, glancing warily in every direction. The dawn light revealed sights they’d missed in the darkness: the remains of a fire, a pile of brown palm leaves dried almost to dust, and the arm of a statue, hand reaching for the sky. Grass had forced its way up between the floor slabs and the bases of the columns.
Cassius reached the podium and looked left. There were only three Maseene lying by the fire to the west. There were more men – ten at least – surrounding the smoking pile of ash to the east, but they were sleeping just as soundly. He waited for a nod from Indavara then tiptoed down the steps. Aside from the twittering birds announcing the dawn, all he could hear were the snores of the tribesmen. It seemed to take an age to reach the altar.
‘We must stay low,’ he said. Down on his hands and knees once more, he crawled to the entrance and checked the road. He couldn’t see a single warrior on his feet.
‘Ready?’
‘Go,’ whispered Indavara from behind him. ‘It’s getting lighter every moment.’
Like the previous night, Cassius didn’t look along the road as he crossed it. He couldn’t have cared less about the dirt and his aching knees – just as long as they made it to the other side.
Once off the paving stones, he navigated his way through the thick, spiny bushes, only stopping when the Maseene were out of sight. As he and the others got to their feet, he had to resist the urge to smile. ‘Gods. It almost seems too easy.’
‘That’s what worries me,’ replied Indavara, striding past him. He soon found the path Eborius had mentioned and ten yards along it, they came across the body of Lentellus. The unfortunate legionary was lying face down in thick grass and had been struck at least half a dozen times; one particularly grisly blow had almost severed his arm.
‘Oh no,’ said Annia.
Indavara went straight for the legionary’s sword and had to prise apart the dead man’s fingers to free it. As they set off again, Cassius looked around but he could see no trace of Adranos.
The ground was drier here than to the west and the strip of greenery between the Via Cyrenaica and the shore was more of a wood than a marsh. Cassius caught tantalising glimpses of the Fortuna through the trees and had to remind himself to keep checking behind them. Indavara soon sped up – with Annia somehow keeping pace – and by the time they reached the sandy beach, the three of them were almost running.
Indavara and Annia immediately began waving at the ship and, once he had checked there was no one else in view, Cassius joined them. He couldn’t tell who the three men on deck were; they were close to the bow and seemed to be doing something with the anchor.
‘We’re here,’ urged Annia. ‘We’re here.’
‘Please,’ implored Cassius.
It seemed almost as though the sailors were purposefully ignoring them and their waving became so frantic that Cassius could barely stop himself shouting. Suddenly aware that their attention was entirely on the ship, he looked back at the wood, fearful that the Maseene might have seen them. But the path was far from straight and the vegetation thick; he couldn’t even make out the temple.
‘Ha,’ cried Annia.
Cassius spun back round. Two of the sailors were waving and the third was running towards the stern. Within a few moments more men came up through the hatch. Cassius saw splashes: oars dropping into the water.
Again, he had to stop himself smiling. They weren’t aboard yet.
‘Come on.’
He set off at a brisk walk along the shore towards the harbour. As the others joined him, he heard a rustling from the undergrowth to their left. Indavara cut in front, Lentellus’s sword at the ready. Cassius spied a red tunic, then a big arm pushing a branch aside.
Eborius was grinning. So was Noster, who appeared from behind him as they stumbled their way through a particularly dense tangle of shrubbery. Eborius had his helmet in his hand and the right sleeve of his mail shirt had been sliced off, leaving a ragged edge over his shoulder. Noster was in a worse condition. He had a makeshift bandage around his knee and required considerable help from the centurion to reach the sand.
‘Thank the gods,’ said Cassius as he gripped forearms with his fellow officer.
Eborius was already looking past him at the Fortuna. ‘Don’t suppose there’s room for two more on that thing?’
‘Absolutely.’
Eborius shook forearms with Indavara too, and took a moment to greet Annia. Cassius clapped Noster on the shoulder and looked down at his knee. ‘You wounded?’
‘Sort of. Ran into a wall. My kneecap seems to be facing the wrong way.’
Eborius put his arm around Noster’s back and helped him as they set off along the shore. ‘Come on, old man.’
Indavara moved to the front of the group and kept his gaze to the left as they neared the harbour.
‘What happened to you?’ Cassius asked Eborius.
‘We got away from the first lot but then ran into more Maseene. Ended up spending most of the night hiding in a cistern, then crossed the road an hour or so ago. Knew you’d head this way if you’d made it through the night. What about you?’
By the time Cassius had finished replying, the Fortuna’s anchor was up and four sets of oars were in the water. Cassius reckoned the large figure close to the bow looked like Simo.
To the east of the harbour, the warehouses were near the shore, with only a narrow belt of sand between them and the water. Beyond the wide doorway of the first building lay a dark, cavernous interior. The rectangle of light at the other end looked a long way away. Cassius was still looking at it when he heard a voice from up ahead.
‘Mornin’ all.’
Carnifex stepped out from behind the corner of the warehouse. Still leading the way, Indavara stopped five yards in front of him.
The old centurion was still clad in full armour and helmet. He tapped the triangular tip of his sword against a heavy, circular shield emblazoned with a black phoenix. His face was a blotchy pink mess – the boiling water had stripped skin from his cheeks, nose and forehead.
Annia turned straight into Cassius’s arms. She would have run if he hadn’t held on to her.
‘Shame,’ said Indavara. ‘I was hoping the Maseene had finished you off.’
‘Take more than a bunch of barefoots to do for old Carn. Told you I’d get me some of your blood, didn’t I, boy?’
Indavara glanced back at Eborius. Carnifex watched for the younger man’s reaction and gave another of his lopsided grins when Eborius came forward and stood beside Indavara. The bodyguard kept his eyes on Carnifex while he spoke to Cassius.
‘Corbulo, get Annia to the ship.’
‘You too, Noster,’ added Eborius, pulling on his helmet.
‘Not likely, sir.’
‘That’s an order.’
For once in his life, Cassius actually wanted to stay and fight. Carnifex deserved death more than any man he’d ever encountered. But he was unarmed, and the truth of it was he’d cause more harm than good.
‘I’ll come back,’ he said, coaxing Annia away from the others.
‘I’ll be waiting, Streak,’ said Carnifex.
‘Come on,’ Cassius told Noster. He put his spare hand around the limping legionary’s shoulder and led him and Annia into the warehouse.
‘I been looking forward to this,’ said Carnifex as he flexed his shoulders. ‘Now who’s going to see the ferryman first?’
Indavara was to his right, Eborius to his left. After the briefest of nods they struck out, jabbing their swords straight at him. Carnifex held Eborius off with his shield an
d traded blows with Indavara, one blade thudding against hide-covered wood, the other clanging, iron against iron.
Given the old soldier’s condition, Indavara favoured trying to tire him, but Carnifex had other ideas. Forcing Eborius back with a drive of the shield, he lunged towards Indavara. Their blades screeched and sparked as Carnifex’s sword slid past Indavara’s handle, missing his thumb by an inch.
‘Slow, boy,’ gloated Carnifex as he retreated to set himself again. ‘Very slow.’
He turned to Eborius. ‘Can you do any better, Manius?’
After his failed attack at the pit, Indavara was sure Carnifex would underestimate him. So as the centurion pushed Eborius back once more, Indavara readied himself to spring left and attack his flank.
He saw Carnifex’s blade coming at him too late and instantly had to adjust, swerving back to the right. He didn’t see the shield coming at all.
The edge slammed into his chest and knocked him off his feet. His back hit the sand but his head hit something a lot harder and as the crack reverberated through his skull he felt the sword fly from his fingers.
When the shimmering light eventually cleared, he was looking up at the grey-blue sky. Hearing scrapes and grunts, he turned towards the sea. The two clashing figures were distant and hazy. He tried to push himself up but when he fell back he realised why his head hurt so much. His neck was against rock. Wet rock.
The battling pair seemed far, far away. Who are they again?
Indavara turned on to his side. He could see the glinting metal of the sword but as he reached for it the image shifted and contorted until he had to look away.
Get up. Got to get up.
Sucking in lungfuls of air, he fumbled his way on to his knees. He shook his head to clear the fog but the pain struck him once more and he fell forward onto the sand. When he could see again, the first thing he noticed was the blood. The blood that had collected in a hollow atop the small rock in front of him.
I landed on it. Hit my head.
‘Come on, Manius!’
Manius. Manius Eborius.
Indavara got up on his knees again and reached for the back of his head. The hair was sticky, soaked. His fingers found the wound – a half-inch rent in the flesh. He cried out and let go.