Chapter Thirty Three - A grey friend
It was still dark when Corbulo slipped out of the labour camp. There was no moon and the sentries strolling along the ramparts did not see him go. Corbulo crouched in the field beyond the fortress and turned to listen. Nothing. The night was silent yet he felt uneasy as if some instinct, born from a lifetimes soldiering was trying to tell him something. He rose and set off eastwards skirting the second labour camp until he came to the river. The water gurgled and splashed against unseen rocks and somewhere close by he heard an owl. Quietly he waded into the river. The water came up to his waist and he gasped at the cold. He was clad in his tough leather torso armour over which he wore an old Palla, an army overcoat, with a hood. From his belt hung his Gladius. He used the Pilum, the spear that Quintus had given him as a support as he struggled across the river. His old friend had been as good as his word. The Centurion had managed to get him two weeks grain rations, which he carried in a bag slung over his back.
“I shall ask the patrols to keep an eye open for you,” Quintus had said putting a hand on Corbulo’s shoulder. There had been a touching concern in his old friend’s voice. “Try and return before winter. Without shelter you won’t survive up in those hills. You have no idea how cold, wet and dark it can get."
Corbulo struggled onto the southern bank and leaned against a tree catching his breath. He was not yet fully recovered from his fever but he didn't dare waste any more time. Marcus needed him. He glanced towards the silent Roman fortress and suddenly he felt very alone. He was leaving his friends and the Twentieth behind. He could expect no help from them. He had deliberately crossed the river in order to confuse anyone who was maybe watching or waiting for him. With a bit of luck Vellocatus and his men would think he'd gone south. He would indeed go south for a while before turning and doubling back north again. From then onwards his path would take him north from Roman outpost to outpost into a war zone. Quintus had made him memorise the Roman forts from a map he'd shown him and he'd worked out the distance and time it would take to move from one to the next. His mastery of the Briton language was good for he had spent twenty five years learning it but his accent would give him away. There was no way he could pass himself off as a local. He had planned for this moment ever since he'd left Rome. He'd been intending to pass himself off as a wandering merchant selling the wood carvings he'd made during the long lonely nights on the road but all the carvings had been in his pack and he'd lost his pack in the river when the auxiliary soldier had tried to kill him. There had been no time to devise an alternative cover. If the locals did catch him he would have to tell them the truth and hope for the best.
Dawn brought rain. The grey rain came streaming in from the west. Corbulo pulled his hood over his head and plodded on. The forest path he was following was narrow and twisting and he could hardly see what was around the next bend. The forest itself was in full bloom for it was high summer. Small animals scuttled away into the undergrowth as he approached and here and there, despite the rain, a butterfly danced on the breeze. The forest air was cool. Quintus had talked about highlands to the north which were devoid of trees, desolate places of stone where only sheep and fugitives lived. He had talked too about long winding river valleys, covered in perpetual mist and treacherous marshes that sucked men to their deaths. He had spoken off thousands of tiny flies that ate a man alive in the summer. Maybe Rome was not meant to conquer Caledonia, maybe we should leave this cursed land to its inhabitants Quintus had muttered.
A sudden movement in the undergrowth caught his eye. Instantly Corbulo froze and lowered his spear in the direction from which the movement had come. Something was moving towards him. He steadied himself. A moment later a huge grey dog with a collar of metal spikes appeared blocking the path up ahead. The beast's yellow eyes were staring straight at him. The dog opened its mouth in a silent yawn and gave Corbulo a glimpse on a row of large razor sharp teeth. Corbulo slowly blew the air from his mouth. It was the same dog that he had seen sitting beside the river outside Inchtuthil only yesterday. What was the beast doing here? Then he saw what was wrong. The dog was limping. There was something wrong with one of its paws.
Leave the animal, go around it he thought but his legs refused to move. He stared at the dog with mounting indecision.
"Alright, let's see what's the matter with you," he said at last. If the war dog had wanted to attack him it would have done so already and if it didn't want his help then it would run away. Corbulo started towards the animal. The dog did not move. As Corbulo approached the animal emitted a low growl but it made no effort to run away.
"Alright dog," Corbulo muttered as he stooped and gingerly lifted up the animal's paw. It was as he had expected. Several large thorns had torn their way into the flesh. Gently he removed them one by one. Then he let go of the leg and stepped back. The war dog was panting gently. Its yellow eyes were looking up at him.
"I don't have any food that I can share with you," Corbulo muttered. "Now go on get out of here."
The dog did not move and its tail was swishing to and fro as if it was waiting for orders.
Corbulo frowned. It was a crazy thought but worth a try. "Go on get out of here," he repeated speaking in the Briton language this time. The dog barked, turned and padded away into the undergrowth.
Corbulo watched it go. Then he smiled. Of course, the dog didn't understand Latin. It only understood the local language.
Up ahead the forest had begun to thin out and soon he was plodding across open fields and rolling hills. The land looked rich and fertile and now and then he noticed a field of crops and sheep. There were signs too that large animals had passed along the path. But he saw no people or settlements. If was as if the Caledonians had hidden themselves away from the outside world. For a while he followed a stream, checking his progress by the position of the sun in the sky. At one point he saw smoke curling upwards from a small wood. The people are sullen and resentful and easily angered, Quintus had told him. It is best to avoid them. They seem to reject the delights of Roman civilisation and stubbornly cling to their own traditions and customs. They are not interested in our civilisation. They honour their gods by throwing valuable objects into sacred lakes. They feud over the smallest insult. They paint their faces. They follow their druids. They are true barbarians.
***
It was late in the afternoon when the pounding of hooves made Corbulo glance over his shoulder.
"No," he whispered in dismay.
Two men on horseback had emerged from the forest behind him and were galloping towards him. One of them was carrying a large bow strapped to his back. How had they managed to find him? Corbulo wanted to scream in despair but instead he started to run even though he knew it was pointless. He could not out run men on horseback, men armed with bow and arrow. He made it to a small copse of trees and tangled undergrowth. His chest was heaving. It was not much of a defensive position but he couldn't go on. He turned to face his pursuers and lifted his spear into a throwing position. How suddenly he had come to the end of the road. He wasn't fated to find Marcus after all. He was going to die right here amongst these trees. He would meet his son in the afterlife. He glared at the two riders as they came towards him. They were coming on without hurry now. They too knew that he was caught. The men halted fifteen paces away and carefully got down from their horses.
"Go back, I shall take at least one of you with me," Corbulo growled.
The auxiliary soldier sneered at him. The man had a large angry bruise around his eye that hadn't been there yesterday when Corbulo had confronted him.
"Hello grandpa," the auxiliary snarled, "Thought you could leave without saying goodbye. We're not very happy about that."
"I told you that if I saw you again I would kill you," Corbulo snapped, "Now let's get on with it. I am not going to run from you any longer. It ends here."
Corbulo aimed his spear at the auxiliary and pretended to throw it.
The auxiliary sneered again. "
Brave words are not going to save you."
The two assassins moved away from each other so that Corbulo had to keep turning his head to watch them both. Slowly they circled around him like wolves waiting for the right moment to attack. His assailants seemed to be enjoying themselves.
"Shall I kill him with my bow," the bow man said speaking in the Briton language.
"You could do," the auxiliary replied in the same language, "but there wouldn't be much sport in that. No, let's see how long he lasts. Vellocatus wants him to suffer, we will make him bleed first."
"I could shoot him in the leg and then you could cut his head off. That's what Vellocatus said he wants didn't he, his head?"
"There is to be no damage to the head," the auxiliary grinned, "I want him to be recognisable."
Corbulo said nothing. His eyes darted from one attacker to the other. The auxiliary soldier betrayed his attack with a slight movement of his head. Still he came in so fast that Corbulo barely had time to avoid the sword thrust. He jumped aside and flung his spear at the man but missed. The auxiliary laughed. Corbulo drew his sword.
"You Legionaries are always so full of yourselves," the auxiliary sneered, "but we Batavians are the better soldiers. You will see soon enough."
Corbulo glanced quickly at the bow man. He had an arrow notched to his bow but he had not moved. The man was waiting for the outcome of the duel. If both of them attacked at the same time it would be over quickly.
"Let's kill him and take his head back with us. I am growing bored of this," the bow man announced suddenly.
The auxiliary grunted and crouched. Corbulo caught the malice in the man's eyes. How had his attacker received the bruise to his face?
From the corner of his eye Corbulo suddenly caught sight of something grey leaping through the air with incredible speed. Someone screamed in a horrible high pitched voice that ended in a rattle. Corbulo stumbled backwards in alarm. The bow man was on the ground being ripped to shreds by a huge dog. The dog that was attacking him had ripped out the man's throat. Blood was gushing out of him in a small fountain. The beast's jaws opened and closed as he tore pieces of flesh from the fallen assassin. The bow man's screams faltered and ceased. The bow man's body did not move but still the huge dog would not let go. It was as if some violent demon had taken possession of the animal. Corbulo stumbled backwards again, his face pale with shock. He saw the auxiliary turn and run for his horse. With one swift movement the man was in the saddle and galloping away.
Corbulo watched him depart. Then he turned to look at the dog and the corpse. The animal was standing over the man it had just killed. For an insane moment Corbulo thought he detected pride in the dog's stance. Then slowly the dog turned its yellow eyes towards him. It's nose, snout, ears and jaws were covered in blood but Corbulo recognised the beast as the same animal that he had helped that morning. The dog must have been following him. For a long moment neither man nor beast moved. Then from the back of its throat the dog growled. The noise sent a shudder of fear right down Corbulo's spine but he stood his ground.
What was this? Had the gods sent a demon to protect him? Had immortal Jupiter heard his prayers and given his quest his favour? Slowly Corbulo walked over to where his spear lay and picked it up. The dog was still standing over the corpse like a lion standing over its kill. Corbulo stared at the beast with wide open eyes. Then he muttered a quick prayer of thanks.
He paused and examined the war dog closely. Then he turned.
"Come," he commanded using the Briton language.
He started walking. Behind him the dog stirred and started after him. Corbulo glanced back and shook his head in disbelief.
Chapter Thirty Four - Desperate Men
Vellocatus strode along the lines of white tents that housed the soldiers who were constructing the fortress of Inchtuthil. He looked worried and agitated. Just that morning the man he'd left behind to look after his house at Eburacum had unexpectedly shown up in Inchtuthil. The man had brought bad news. A large band of men had arrived in Eburacum a few days after Vellocatus had left. They were Atrebates from the south and they had come looking for him. They knew his name and they knew what had happened to their allies, the Jewish money lenders. The men had come seeking revenge. They had burned his house down and their leader had publicly vowed to place Vellocatus's head on a spear. There was no going back now he thought grimly. He needed to find that amber or he was finished.
A Caledonian warrior was standing guard outside the tent. Vellocatus muttered the password that he had arranged with Baldurix, pulled back the canvas flap and ducked into the tent. He grinned in relief as he saw Bestia, Baldurix and the girl. The Caledonian girl was sitting cross legged on the ground, her head resting on her chest. Her neck was fastened to a slaver's iron chain. A fourth man, the bow man sat on the ground in the far corner eating an apple. Vellocatus shot Bestia a quick questioning glance and the auxiliary soldier nodded in confirmation. Vellocatus's grin widened as he stared at the girl. They had the right woman. He had found her at last, the amber was within reach.
Baldurix raised himself up from his chair and folded his arms across his chest.
"Good to see you again Vellocatus," he said. He gestured to the miserable looking girl. "As you can see I have kept my side of the bargain. Bestia says that she is the one who killed the boy in your tent last year. Now it is time for you to do your part of our agreement."
Vellocatus nodded, "Don't worry Baldurix, give me a day and a night and we shall know the location of the amber cave."
"What are you going to do?" Baldurix inquired.
Vellocatus smiled, "It's best that you don't know. It will put you off your breakfast."
Baldurix grunted and glanced at the girl. "I don't want it done here in the camp. The Romans may get suspicious if the girl starts screaming. Take her out into the forest. My man here will show you the way to a sacred grove. You can do what you like with her there. I will meet you at the grove tomorrow at dawn. You had better have the answer by then."
Vellocatus nodded his agreement and gestured for Bestia to follow him. Vellocatus stepped out of the tent. He was followed a moment later by the others. Bestia had a firm grip on the slave chain.
"Mind if I have her after we are done," he said glancing at Vellocatus, "the bitch owes me something."
Vellocatus was just about to reply when a voice cried out.
"Heh fuck face, yes you. I want to talk to you."
***
Vellocatus's face was pale and he was lost for words. For a long moment after Corbulo had disappeared amongst the tents, he just stood rooted to the ground unable to believe what had just happened.
"Is there a problem with that man?" Baldurix growled.
Vellocatus slowly turned to look at Bestia and there was growing fury on his face. Bestia blushed with sudden guilt. Then ignoring Baldurix, Vellocatus took a step forwards and smacked Bestia in his face with his fist. The auxiliary staggered backwards with a howl.
"You told me that he was dead," Vellocatus hissed, "You lied to me. You cheap sack of piss, you lied to me."
"I am sorry, I shouldn't have," Bestia mumbled.
Vellocatus's breath was coming in short sharp gasps. He turned to Baldurix. "He may be a problem. The man knows about the amber. He says he is looking for his son but I suspect that he too is after the amber."
"So we have competition," Baldurix muttered. He glanced over at Bestia and grinned at the deserters discomfort. "Don't worry, my man here can track anything across any terrain. When that Roman leaves we will get him and kill him."
***
The sacred grove was a small pond. The thick forest crowded around as if the trees had fought long and hard to be the closest to the water. Vellocatus sniffed the air and stared suspiciously at the still black water. The druids believed that these groves were doorways between worlds. Insects buzzed and danced across the surface of the pond but apart from that they were alone. Vellocatus stepped up to the edge of the water, muttered
a short prayer and undid a ring from his finger before casting it into the lake. The ring vanished with a small plop and ripples spread away in a perfect circle. The gods needed their share too he thought. Now they too had a stake in his success.
He turned sharply and gestured for Bestia to force the girl to her knees. From the edge of the forest the bow man leaned back against a tree to watch. Vellocatus crouched before her and grabbed her chin with his hand forcing the woman to look at him. He smiled.
"You know what we want," he said quietly, "question is, will you tell us or must we inflict a great deal of pain on you before you then tell us?"
The girl opened her mouth and spat in his face.
Vellocatus rose and wiped the spittle from his face. He nodded at Bestia.
"Get started," he snapped.
***
The girl screamed and it was a scream of pure agony. It was evening. Bestia sat beside the fire he'd built and held up the white hot poker. The woman was naked and tied hand and feet to a tree. Three burn marks already scarred her body.
"Again," Vellocatus ordered. Bestia pressed the white hot metal into the girl's exposed flesh. There was a sizzle and hiss of burning meat and then an ear shattering shriek of pain.
Vellocatus grabbed the woman's chin.
"Tell me where we can find the amber. Tell me where the amber cave is and the pain will stop."
The girl kept on screaming. Vellocatus slapped her hard across her face.
"Tell me," he roared bringing his face close to hers.
Tears were streaming down the girls face as she at last nodded her consent. Vellocatus stepped back with a triumphant look.
"Give her some wine," he snapped. He folded his arms across his chest as the bow man raised a skin of wine and forced some of the contents down the girl's throat. The remaining wine spilt down her chin and over her naked breasts.
"I have a ship waiting for us at the mouth of the Tay," Vellocatus snapped. "We will sail north along the coast. Where can we find the amber?"
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