They had come across other strange things, too, but the one that had come the closest to killing them had been the snake. Marcus had been at the rear of their little procession through the jungle when he had felt an odd tingling, an instinctive alarm. Drawing his sword, he whirled around just as a snake, emerald green with yellow stripes and a head the size of Marcus’s chest, fell upon him from the trees. By a pure stroke of luck, he had managed to thrust his sword up through the roof of the thing’s open mouth, at the same time avoiding the extended dagger-length fangs that were all but spurting venom. He was trying to wrest his sword free of the writhing serpent when Haakon had grabbed him by the belt and hauled him away before the snake could curl itself around him. Setting down Pelonius, the others fell upon the beast, but they need not have bothered: it had been mortally wounded, the tip of Marcus’s sword having pierced its brain, and the thrashing of its body was nothing more than its death throes.
Tossing aside the scrawny monkey that Septimus had killed, they instead feasted on the snake, which Marcus had paced off to a length of no less than forty feet. Paulus had managed to get a fire going that had produced little smoke, and the four men had enjoyed the unexpected luxury of a cooked meal that tasted not altogether unlike roast chicken. While they had no wine, water was plentiful, stored in fist-sized flowers that resembled small amphorae that collected and stored rainwater.
The ready supply of food and drink, combined with their collective exhaustion, forced Marcus to reluctantly call a halt for the day. The top of the escarpment was near, but was clearly going to be a dangerous and exhausting enterprise to climb, especially carrying Pelonius.
Now, Marcus stood staring in the direction Haakon had pointed, a look of agonized indecision on his face. “I don’t want her to spend the night alone,” he whispered.
“If Hercules is with her,” Pelonius argued, using logic as his weapon, “she will not be alone. In fact, I daresay she will be far safer than we are.”
Marcus turned to face him, his face lit red by the reflected fire light. “And if they’re separated and she is alone?”
“Then we know nothing more of her fate than we did before, nor can we find or help her. But at least we know now that Hercules is alive, and he can certainly take care of himself until we find him or he finds us.”
“If Valeria’s not with him, she’ll certainly have heard him, just like we did,” Paulus said hopefully.
Septimus grunted. “I just hope she has ears like Haakon, or she won’t know which way to go.”
At last, Marcus sat back down and picked up his half-eaten meal. “We’re moving out at first light and climbing to the top. After that, we move northeast to try and find Hercules.” The others nodded in agreement. “Before we go, let’s get more of this snake cooked and take as much as we can with us. I don’t want to have to stop to forage for food unless we have to.”
***
As he had before, Karan followed behind Hercules as the big cat wove his way through the foliage that carpeted the top of the escarpment, following a well-worn game trail through deciduous trees that towered high above them, dwarfing even the largest of the vine trees of the jungle. The forest floor was covered with smaller trees, shrubs, and delicate flowers, but blessedly the thorn-laden vines were all but gone. Looking up, he saw the rays of the rising sun glowing through the mist of the morning. The sounds of animals scampering about came from everywhere around them, including above in the trees. Karan judged that most of the creatures were small, but he knew that even some of the small creatures that inhabited the lands of his onetime home could be foes to be reckoned with. Instinctively, he kept his right hand on the handle of his sword.
Hercules paused and lowered his nose to the ground to sniff. Then he looked up, his great amber eyes taking in their surroundings. He looked left, then right…and suddenly tensed.
After a moment, Karan heard it, too: something large blundering through the forest in their general direction. Or perhaps it wasn’t just one thing, but several, all of which were far larger than the animals traipsing through the forest around them.
With a barely audible growl, the big cat moved off the trail, silently pushing his way through the smaller trees and shrubs as he began to stalk whatever was coming toward them, and Karan followed. He drew his sword, careful that the blade made no sound as he freed it from its scabbard.
Moving through a small depression, they could hear whatever it was just over the next rise. Karan could not imagine what sort of animal made so much noise, and even Hercules seemed befuddled. Together, keeping low to the ground and utterly silent, the two predators moved to the top of the rise so they could look down upon the strange beast.
They were almost in sight of it when the beast seemed to stumble, thrashing around in the leaves and deadfall.
“Bollocks!”
Karan grinned. Only one man in the entire world could infuse such intense emotion into a single word.
“Is that you, Septimus?” Karan said as he sheathed his sword, rose to his full height, and pushed through the last of the foliage between him and the “beast” he and Hercules had been tracking.
Karan emerged into a joyful chorus of welcoming shouts and claps on the back, which became all the more heartfelt as Hercules came into view.
“Valeria,” Marcus asked, looking past Hercules with desperate hope. “Is she with you?”
Karan shook his head. “I had assumed she was with you.”
Crestfallen, Marcus said, “No. Something…something attacked the boat sometime after you’d been swept away and smashed it to bits. I saw…”
“You didn’t see a bloody thing,” Septimus interjected gently, “other than the boat getting smashed. Look, Hercules and Valeria were right together, and here the big fluff ball is. She must’ve gotten separated in the water and washed up a bit farther off, that’s all.”
Karan could see that Marcus was fighting to cling to the hope of what Septimus had said, but he saw in the eyes of the others, Septimus included, that they had given her up as lost.
“You are a very fortunate young man,” Pelonius, who was riding in a makeshift litter, said. Karan saw that Septimus must have dropped his end, which made the crashing sound and led to his trademark profanity. “We were sure you had been claimed by Neptune.”
“I would not argue,” Karan said, bowing his head in respect to the older man, “although our fortunes are mixed.”
Pelonius cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
Karan gestured around them. “Of all the places in our world where we could have come ashore, we could not have found worse.”
Septimus sighed. “I’m shocked.”
Marcus shot him an annoyed look. “Why do you say that?”
“The wild things here are among the most lethal in our world,” Karan told him. “I am actually surprised any of us have lived this long.”
Haakon snorted. “We already figured that out. Look at the snake Marcus killed.” He held up a hunk of meat from a pack they had fashioned from the snake skin. The treat immediately drew the attention of Hercules, despite having gorged himself on the huge pig the previous day. Gently pushing the cat’s probing nose away, Haakon put the cooked meat back in the pack.
“All right,” Marcus said, “we already had that part figured out.”
“The animals are not the only thing.” Karan took a deep breath. “This is the province where the soldiers commanded by the Masters are raised and trained. It is as if we landed in the center of an enemy army’s camp. And they are beyond brutal and cruel. If any of us are captured here…” He looked at the pack of meat Haakon carried.
“They’re cannibals?” Pelonius whispered.
“No,” Karan said. “They would be cannibals only if they ate their own kind. But we are not of their blood. Our flesh is not forbidden them.”
“But I thought the Swords like you were their soldiers,” Marcus said.
Karan shook his head. “No, we are simply playthings. We
are adept at killing as might be your gladiators, and in the old tales we were used as scouts in battle, but we are not soldiers. The children of the Masters wear armor and weapons and are trained in the ways of war, and they are soulless brutes.” He swallowed. “Each season, Swords are sent here to help train the soldiers. Those who please the Masters are rewarded with their lives and returned to their owners. Those who do not…”
“…wind up on the dinner table,” Paulus finished for him, aghast. “Gods have mercy.”
Marcus clenched his hands. “Then we find Valeria, quickly, and figure out a way out of here and back to the Empire. Livius and Sergius are both sons of whores and might crucify us, but I’d rather face that than wind up in some giant’s belly. And at least I know that Sergius won’t harm Valeria.”
“Leaving the part about escaping to a later time,” Paulus asked, “how do we find her?”
As one, they all looked at Karan. “She will have had to climb the escarpment, just as we have,” he said slowly. “There is nothing to sustain her on the beach, and if she stayed in the jungle a moment longer than necessary…” He shook his head. Pursing his lips in thought, he squatted down and grabbed a stick. “Assuming she reached the top and decided not to stay put somewhere near the edge…”
“She wouldn’t.” The words came as a chorus from Pelonius, Marcus, Septimus, and Paulus. Haakon laughed.
Karan couldn’t help but smile. He drew a line representing Valeria’s march. “So, she moves inland, searching for us. That would eventually bring her to the road from the capital, here.” He drew another line, long and curved, then an X where the two intersected. “Of course, we have no way of knowing if she will be to our left or right, or which way she might try to go.”
“She’ll go right,” Pelonius said.
“Why?” Marcus asked.
“Because to the right would take her northeast, would it not?”
Karan nodded.
“Then she will head into the sunrise and to the north.” Pelonius looked at Paulus. “She has never liked the south after the death of your parents, and is an eternal optimist. The dawn brings new possibilities. Dusk is the day’s death.”
“You and your philosophy,” Septimus scoffed. “It’s a gambler’s dream: even odds she goes left and even she goes right. Take your pick. Would that I ever had such odds when tossing bones, I’d be rich enough to be a senator.”
“Let’s say she does go right,” Marcus said. “That leaves us with the question of whether she’s to the north or south of us now, ahead or behind, as it were, and which way we should go ourselves.”
“We head northeast and leave markers for her,” Paulus suggested. “If she’s behind us, she’ll know we’re alive, and we can stop periodically to let her catch up. And if she’s ahead, Karan and I can move fast and catch up to her, then bring her back.”
“Valeria likely would think of leaving markers, too,” Marcus said, “regardless of which way she goes. If she’s anywhere close at all, she must have heard Hercules, so she knows at least he made it to shore.”
“There is only one minor problem with this plan,” Karan said quietly, his expression darkening.
“What’s that?” Paulus asked.
“As soon as she reaches the road — as soon as any of us reach the road — we will be discovered and taken captive.”
“Maybe she’ll just skirt the road and stay in the trees, out of sight,” Paulus suggested.
Karan shook his head. “Even if she does, the Swords will find her, even if the soldiers don’t.”
“And they would show her no mercy?” Marcus asked.
Again, Karan shook his head. “The Swords would take her to the Masters. But in answer to your question, no, mercy is not to be found in these lands.”
“Then that puts paid to any thought of leaving markers,” Septimus grumbled. “That would be like putting out a sign that says free food.”
Paulus rounded on him. “Don’t say that!”
Septimus met his glare, then looked away and mumbled an apology.
“We’ll leave all that for later,” Marcus said, making a decision. “We’ll move inland until we come to the road, do some scouting, then see what the gods have in store for us.”
Septimus looked skyward. “Bastards.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
For the rest of that day and the day after, the men pushed inland as fast as they could manage. For the most part, Hercules led, content to go in whatever direction in which Pelonius pointed him, easily breaking a trail that the others could follow. While they could hear bestial grunting throughout the day, some of which must have come from very large animals, whatever predators might have stalked them chose to steer well clear of the hexatiger. The small tree-dwellers, ranging from squirrels to small monkeys, chittered at them as they passed, but chose not to otherwise interfere.
That night, Marcus sat alone, the nearly burned flesh of the cooked snake in his hand, untouched. No fire crackled, for Karan was worried that it would draw unwanted attention. The road, and those who travelled upon it, was close. The others sat or lay in the darkness, exhausted, silent.
Karan came to sit beside the centurion. “You must keep believing that she is alive,” he said quietly.
Marcus didn’t answer, but his head seemed to droop lower.
“You cannot give up hope,” Karan persisted.
“Even if she survived and reached shore, how could she stay alive out there?” Throughout the forest, things yipped and howled in answer. “Besides, how could you know if she was still alive?”
“I would not, but Hercules would. His great heart would be broken, but it is not.”
With a bitter laugh, Marcus shook his head. “He’s nothing more than an animal, Karan. A goat would have as much inner knowledge of Valeria’s fate.”
“You are wrong, centurion, but I do not fault you for it.” Karan put his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I will believe for you, and pray to Hercules.”
“You do that, boy,” Marcus rasped.
As Karan got up to leave, he heard something he would never have credited from the battle-hardened centurion: the quiet weeping of bitter tears.
The following morning they pushed on, but more slowly, as if they were again fighting their way up the escarpment. The closer they got to where Karan believed the road must be, the slower they seemed to go, as if not wanting to reach their destination and face the decisions that awaited them there, and the crushing reality that Valeria might be dead.
The sound of a large beast echoed from somewhere off to the left, and ahead. Hercules suddenly stopped, raising his head to sniff the air. With a mewling cry, he darted forward, then broke into a full run, crashing through the underbrush.
“Hercules!” Marcus called. “Hercules, come back!”
***
Valeria ran, ignoring the welts and cuts left by the branches as she pushed her way through the smaller trees and shrubs. Since leaving the escarpment and entering the forest, her existence had become a nightmare of running, endlessly running, from things determined to kill her. The skin of her feet burned from the sting of tiny ants whose mound she had stumbled into. Her left shoulder was bloody and inflamed from where an eagle-like bird with an unbelievable wing span had speared her with its talons, trying to carry her away. Her left hand dangled useless, broken when an animal that looked like a placid buffalo, black as night, had charged her and gotten her spear down its throat for its efforts. But the spear broke, snapping with such force that it broke her hand, in turn. In her good hand she still clutched her dagger, which was of no use at all against the thing that pursued her. At first she had thought it was a bear, but no bear she had ever seen had a horrible, twisted face like that. It was as if the flesh had been turned inside out, and the teeth would have been more at home on a pure carnivore straight out of a nightmare.
The only reason she was still alive was that it had taken a misstep when she had leaped across a shallow gorge. It had pawed her, tr
ying to swat her to the ground, just as she’d jumped. Its claws had found their mark, scraping down to the bone of her right shoulder blade and sending her sprawling. But she had made it to the far side, while the awful beast, roaring with rage, had tumbled into the gorge. Looking over the edge, shaking with pain and fear, she had hoped to see it sprawled there in a blood-spattered heap. But the gorge was little more than a cut in the earth, and all she saw was the beast charging toward the nearest slope that would bring it up to where she knelt.
Biting back a cry, she had gotten to her feet and had kept running.
Now, she was nearly at the end of her strength. The beast was gaining, and would eventually have her. But she refused to give it the satisfaction of an easy chase. And when it cornered her at last, it would feel the sting of her dagger before she went down.
She tumbled down a slope as the ground unexpectedly disappeared from beneath her feet. Her head slammed into a tree, dazing her, as she rolled. When the ground finally began to level out and she stopped tumbling, she got to her hands and knees. She saw stars in her eyes, but through the ringing in her ears she could hear the beast coming for her.
Then she heard something else: the familiar chorus of oiled leather and steel, the unmistakable sound of soldiers. Looking up, she bit back a cry at the vision before her. They were indeed soldiers, numbering perhaps a hundred, wearing black leather and polished steel, but they were like none ever given birth from Man and Woman. The smallest was at least a head taller than Haakon and broader of shoulder, and the tallest was perhaps two or three heads more. All wore helmets, but two had helmets bearing a crest of long black feathers and rode huge horses that had zebra stripes along their rear quarters. But what truly shocked her was their faces, all staring at her now from little more than a dozen or so yards away. They were a nightmarish vision that her dazed brain simply could not grasp.
Vulcan's Fury: The Dark Lands Page 33