"I haven't got a fucking clue," Bestia snarled. "I am just doing my job."
The bounty hunter feigned a move to the left and smiled as Corbulo nearly fell for it.
"You are maggot, you always were," Corbulo panted, "You couldn't kill me in Caledonia and you won't kill me now. Do you know what happened to your friend, Vellocatus, do you know what I heard the Caledonians did to him?"
Bestia shrugged, "I couldn't give a shit," he replied.
Corbulo tried to slow his breathing. The fight was tiring him. Bestia was younger and fitter. The man was a professional killer. If it came to an endurance test, the bounty hunter would win. He had to do something and he had to do it quickly.
Bestia came for him feigning a move to the left before storming in from the right. The man aimed his stabbing movement directly at Corbulo's midriff and his movement was so fast it nearly succeeded. At the very last moment Corbulo however twisted his body away and wildly thrust his sword at Bestia but found only thin air. The two of them stumbled backwards against the wall beside the doorway in a melee of shrieks, groans and grunts as they struggled for control of each other's sword hands. Corbulo could feel his strength starting to fade. Bestia was stronger; there was no doubt. As he struggled to force the man's blade away from his chest he grimaced as he felt the blade inching towards him. With a desperate cry he tried to force the blade away but Bestia was remorseless. The bounty hunters face contorted as he forced the blade closer and closer. Then suddenly Bestia screamed and his head reared upwards and the pressure on Corbulo's chest ceased. Bestia staggered backwards and screamed again and this time he dropped his sword. Slowly he turned and Corbulo saw the look of surprise on his face. Blood was soaking through his tunic from the three places on his back where he'd been stabbed. Corbulo gasped as he caught sight of Petrus standing in the doorway. The boy was holding a bloodied Pugio, his knife, the army knife that he'd thought he'd lost. Petrus looked completely calm.
"You, a boy, a fucking child," Bestia gasped as he stared at Petrus before he crashed down onto his knees. "Killed by a boy."
"No," Corbulo said as he stepped forwards, grasped Bestia by his hair, yanked his head backwards and slit his throat in one swift movement. "That was for Priscus, you piece of shit."
Blood spurted from Bestia's throat and splattered the wall and the floor. As the body crashed to the ground Corbulo pushed it over the side of the hole and heard it tumble and crash onto the floor below. The noise was followed by a cry of alarm and shock. Then he heard what sounded like a soaking wet rag hitting paving stones. The noise was followed by a shriek that ended in a gurgling rattle. Once again the tavern fell silent. Corbulo risked a quick glance down the ladder. The bowman lay on the ground in a growing pool of dark red blood beside Bestia's corpse. The man's bow lay discarded on the ground. Corbulo took a deep breath and dropped down into the hole and half slid down the ladder and onto the floor. As he regained his footing he saw the tavern owner standing in the middle of the room. The big veteran had a knife in his hand and he was facing Seisyll who was cowering, trapped in a corner of the bar. Beside the door another of Bestia's men stood propped up against the wall with a knife sticking out of his head. The tavern owner turned as he heard Corbulo land on the ground.
"I told you once," the man growled in a deep angry voice, "This is my place. I make the rules here. No one presses a knife to my throat in my own place."
"Where are the others?" Corbulo gasped looking around at the deserted tavern.
The tavern owner shrugged, "No idea. There were only three of them and this worthless dog here," he said gesturing at the cowering Seisyll.
"Please, please I will say nothing, I promise," the man pleaded.
The big veteran seemed to consider the man's words for a moment. Then he shook his head and strode straight for Seisyll.
"Sorry Seisyll," the veteran muttered, "But you have seen too much. I can't take that risk. You are going to have to die."
And with that he thrust his bloodied knife into the man's head.
Corbulo remained silent as Seisyll collapsed into a bloody heap. The tavern owner retrieved his knife and wiped the blade on the dead man's tunic. Then slowly he turned to look around at the bloody carnage.
"What a fucking mess," the veteran grumbled, "what a mess." He turned to look at Corbulo.
"You and your children had better go now," he said. He paused and took a deep breath before wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I know about those children and who they are supposed to be but don't worry I am not going to give you up. You can hide in the stables next door for a few days until things calm down. I will have my boy bring you some food and water."
Corbulo nodded gratefully.
"What about the corpses, what will you tell the authorities?" Corbulo muttered.
"I will blame you," the tavern owner replied. "You are the one they are looking for."
Corbulo's face cracked into a little smile.
"Death to the Barbarian Queen," he said quietly.
"Death to the Barbarian Queen," the tavern owner said solemnly.
Corbulo sheathed his sword and climbed back up the ladder and as he poked his head through the hole in the ceiling he saw the children watching him anxiously from the doorway to their room. Petrus stood beside the door still holding the bloody knife. The boy had not moved.
"Was that the man who killed my family?" Petrus said in a strange voice.
Carefully Corbulo took the knife from the boy's fingers and as he did so it seemed to release Petrus from a spell for suddenly his whole body began to shake uncontrollably. Corbulo wrapped his arm around the boy and pulled him into an embrace as Petrus broke out into great sobs.
"I don't know lad, I don't know," Corbulo murmured ruffling the boys hair.
***
Corbulo was asleep when a hand gently shook him awake. Instantly he was awake and reaching for his sword but it was only Dylis. His daughter raised her finger to her mouth and pointed at the sleeping children who lay curled up in the hay on either side of him.
"She's back," Dylis whispered excitedly, "Mum's back and she's brought Grandfather and my uncle with her."
Corbulo blinked. Then he was up on his feet. Petrus was crouching beside the stables door staring out into the street and Corbulo knelt down beside him as Dylis hung back behind him. Outside it was dusk.
"What did you see Petrus?" Corbulo whispered.
The boy was concentrating on the street and didn't seem to have heard Corbulo for he remained silent. Four days had passed since the killings and Petrus had said little during that time, so little in fact that Corbulo had begun to worry about him. The boy was still too young to cope with what he'd experienced.
"What did you see?" Corbulo whispered again giving Petrus a gentle nudge.
"It's them, it's Efa, she was with two men, both armed" the boy said quietly. "They just entered the tavern. Have they come to rescue us?"
"They sure have Petrus," Corbulo whispered with sudden delight, "They sure have. We are going to be leaving very soon." He turned and grinned at Dylis. "You will never hear me say this again but for once I am really happy to see that miserable old bastard of your grandfather again."
Chapter Sixteen - The Inlaws
The sun was an orange ball on the horizon as the riders clattered down the road. To the north and south the monotony of the flat empty and muddy fields and meadows was interrupted by small woods and in the distance, smoke was curling upwards into the cloudless sky. Corbulo glanced at Efa who was riding beside him. They had not spoken much since they had left the Roman cavalry fort of Bremetennacum earlier that day. It was not like Efa to be so quiet he thought. He turned to look behind him at the two old battered chariots and the three sleek grey hunting dogs that ran alongside the riders. The chariots were being pulled along by a team of horses and their drivers. Efa's cousins stood bolt upright holding the reins. The men were in their early twenties and both of them looked stern and unfriendly. Across their backs they had
strapped their hunting bows and a quiver of arrows and crammed in around them were the children. Somehow they had managed to squash five children into each chariot but despite the cramped conditions and their sullen drivers the children seemed to be enjoying the ride for they were all smiles and laughter. The sight brought a smile onto Corbulo's face too. He had faced these Briton war chariots in battle and the vehicles had proved utterly useless against resolute and well-trained infantry but now they were proving their worth.
Three days had passed since they had managed to slip out of Viroconium. Efa had returned with her father, brother and cousins. They had brought the two chariots, the dogs and spare horses and had left the town immediately. Corbulo had noticed a couple of men watching them as they had departed and headed northwards but no one had tried to stop the well-armed party. He turned to look at the two figures up ahead. He had only ever met Efa's father and brother once when he had brought Efa back to her village, after he and Quintus had freed her and Dylis from a life of slavery in Caledonia. He had stayed in her village for four days, just long enough for them to get married. That had been eighteen months ago now. Efa's father, Aidan had not said a word to him since he'd arrived and the silence between them had led to a number of awkward moments. Corbulo however, was not surprised, for Aidan had also refused to speak to him the first time they'd met. Only once had he deigned to break his grumpy silence and that had been to ask about his age. Aidan had not liked the answer Corbulo had given him for it had turned out that Corbulo was older than his father in law. Later Efa had told him not to worry about it but to Corbulo it had become clear that her father did not approve of his daughter's marriage to a Roman; a foreigner. Logan, Efa's brother, however was friendlier and had provided much needed distraction.
The road led westwards into the setting sun. Corbulo glanced at Efa again and this time she gave him a little smile. She had done well he thought. It was over a hundred miles from Viroconium to her village on the coast and she had done the distance in two days and nights. He sighed and his thoughts wondered back to the events of the past few days. Bestia had not known why his patron the Governor wanted the Christian children so badly. The mystery unsettled Corbulo. The more he thought about it the more he knew he was missing something. What could possibly be of such interest to the Governor and the Procurator? What did these children have that was so important? Puzzled he shook his head. He hadn't gotten a clue. Suddenly his eye caught sight of movement on a small grassy ridge off to his left. Aidan too had seen the movement and raised his hand and the small party came to an abrupt halt on the road. Ten horsemen clad in armour and armed with spears came riding towards them. Corbulo peered at them.
"They are auxiliaries, probably on patrol," he cried urging his horse towards the front where Aidan and Logan had halted. His father in law ignored him and muttered something to his son in an accent so thick that Corbulo could not understand it. Logan immediately urged his horse forwards and rode off straight towards the riders. Corbulo came to a halt beside Aidan. Up ahead the horsemen had reached Logan and had encircled him. Corbulo looked on as Logan spoke with the auxiliaries. Then a few moments later the young man was riding back to his father and the horsemen were trotting off in the opposite direction. Logan pulled up beside his father and glanced quickly at Corbulo.
"Corbulo is right," he said with a thick accent, "They are a Roman patrol from their fort at Kirkham. I know their leader. He is the man I sell our honey too. They just wanted to check who we were. No harm done."
"Did he ask you for a bribe?" Aidan scowled.
Logan looked away. "I said I would bring him some extra honey when I next go to trade with them."
"Thieves, bloody Roman thieves, the lot of them," Aidan growled spitting angrily onto the ground. "They claim to protect us but all they do is rob us at every possible opportunity. It was better in the days before Rome came."
***
The sun had vanished beneath the horizon when, three miles beyond the small Roman fort on the hill, the road suddenly veered sharply northwards and as it did so Corbulo knew that they were close to Efa's village. A fresh western wind had picked up and rain clouds were closing in. To his right the marshlands stretched all the way towards the distant River Wyre. They were close to the sea now and Corbulo could smell the salt on the breeze. He glanced at Efa and noticed the sudden look of excitement on her face and as he did he sighed. This whole journey had been her idea. It had been her courage that had saved the Christian children back in Londinium and it was her determination that had helped save the sick boy's life. They had started out with nine and they were going to end it with nine. He was about to look away when, as if reading his mind, Efa turned to look at him.
"I have spoken with my father," she said quietly," and he has agreed to place the children with families in my village who want them. They will be safe here and they will be well cared for. These are my people. They will treat the children as if they are their own." A single tear had appeared in her eye. "But none of this would have been possible without you Corbulo. All of them," she said gesturing at the children, "They all owe their lives to you and one day they will realise that."
Corbulo was silent as his thoughts turned to his ruined business and as he pictured Priscus's dead body floating down the Thames and out to sea. There had been a cost to this whole affair.
"I need a drink," he muttered.
***
Portus Sentantiorum, the port of the Setantii clustered around a small shallow bay. The round houses had been built close to the sandy beach. As Corbulo approached along the road he could see a wooden jetty jutting out into the sea. A number of small Celtic fishing boats were bobbing up and down on the waves and further along the coast in the direction of the mouth of the Wyre River he could just about make out a fortified Roman signal tower in the fading light. The tower had not been there when he had last visited. They had just reached the first round house when a Carnyx, a boar headed Celtic war trumpet, emitted a long mournful blast. The noise was followed quickly by another trumpet blast. Aidan raised his hand as a few villagers emerged from their homes and returned his greeting. As the small party headed towards two round houses that stood close together at the edge of the settlement, three girls aged around ten came racing towards them. The girls had recognised Aidan and Efa and were shouting their names in delight but as the girls noticed the children in the chariots they came to an abrupt halt and fell silent. Aidan dismounted from his horse in front of the largest of the round houses and as he did so two women appeared in the doorway.
"Efa, you are back, thank the gods," the older woman exclaimed as Efa dismounted and embraced her.
Corbulo dismounted stiffly and glanced at the children. Efa's cousins had parked the two chariots underneath a tree and the children stood huddled together like a group of ducklings that had lost their mother. Corbulo handed his horse to one of the cousins and strode towards the children and as he did so he noticed the three girls watching the newcomers curiously.
"Listen," he said placing his hands on his hips, "I've got something to say to you all. This village, this place, this is going to be your new home. You will be safe here, the people who live here are good people." He paused as he made eye contact with each one of the children. "Now I want you to promise me something, all of you. I want you to promise that you will look after each other. Your parents are dead. They are not coming back for you. Learn to love this place and these people and everything will be allright. You are the nine who survived and when I come to visit you again I want to see all nine of you alive, understood."
The children were silent as Corbulo finished his little speech. For a moment no one said a word. Then the older woman who had greeted Efa came up and beckoned to the children to follow her into the large round house. Corbulo watched them go. Then he sighed. He was about to follow when Logan appeared. The young man had a strange expression on his face.
"You will sleep over there tonight," Logan said in his thick accent as he point
ed at the smaller round house. "Efa says she needs you."
Corbulo raised his eyebrows and hesitated.
"Go," Logan said gesturing with his hand.
Corbulo muttered something to himself and strode off towards the hut. The round house was made of solid wooden posts interwoven with wood, straw, soil and clay and it had a thatched roof. He pulled aside the heavy leather sheet that hung across the doorway and stepped inside. In the middle of the earthen floor an open fire was burning and the smoke was escaping through a hole in the roof. Efa lay on a bed of soft animal skins. She was stark naked.
"I want to fuck," she said.
***
It was just after dawn as Corbulo strolled along the beach. He was alone as he gazed out to sea. The fresh sea breeze was blowing into his face and above him he could hear the screeching of the sea gulls as they dived and climbed in lazy swoops searching for breakfast. Out to sea a line of grey rain clouds were heading towards him but he hardly noticed them. Something was bothering him. What did the Governor and the Procurator want from these children? The question would not go away however hard he tried to forget about it. He paused beside a pile of stones and timber beams that had been dumped close to the old wooden jetty. The authorities seemed to have started on the construction of a solid stone harbour wall but the work had barely begun. A solitary fisherman was sitting at the end of the jetty. The hunched old man sat staring vacantly at the waves as Corbulo approached. He turned and looked up as Corbulo halted behind him.
"Ah, you are the Roman who married Efa," the old man said sourly as he recognised Corbulo, "I remember your wedding. Aidan didn't agree but you did it anyway. That's how you make enemies."
Corbulo ignored the comment and gestured at the fortified Roman signal tower.
"The Hibernian and Caledonian raiders, do they still cause you trouble?"
The old fisherman glanced at the signal tower and shrugged.
"Sure, there is always trouble," he replied, "and that little fort over there with its eight man garrison is not going to make any difference. The Hibernians and Caledonians will continue to raid and take what they want. It has always been so."
Hibernia (Veteran of Rome Book 2) Page 12