Corbulo shook his head. "I ate my fill down in the farm, don't worry about me. I am good. How is the leg?"
"It hurts," Marcus replied wiping his mouth with his hand. There was a little more colour to the boy's face now that he'd eaten his fill.
Corbulo nodded and glanced at the farm. "The great river that we are looking for is just over those hills, a couple of miles at the most. But someone saw me at the farm. He ran away but he will come back. We must go now. We will rest once were across the river. I told the woman in the farm that we were heading south. Hopefully if anyone comes after us they will think we headed off into the mountains to the south. Maybe it will buy us some time."
"They are already on our trail," Marcus muttered quietly. "But it's not the local villagers that you should be worried about."
Corbulo frowned. "What are you talking about?
Marcus looked up at him with a sullen angry expression.
"The girl whom was imprisoned with me," he snapped, "I foolishly told her that I knew about the amber cave. I told her that I thought I knew where it was. I think the fucking chamber was right beneath my feet, under those cliffs that we climbed down."
Corbulo shrugged casually. "So what?"
Marcus shook his head. "You don't understand. The druid is her father. To know about the amber is a death sentence. That mad druid is killing everyone who knows about the amber. He is determined to keep the stones a secret. He will come after us. He cannot let us escape. I know too much."
Corbulo looked away.
"Well we had better be moving on then," he murmured.
Wearily the two men rose to their feet. Corbulo looked around at the barren hills but could see no one. He glanced back at Marcus who was limping along leaning on his newly acquired spear.
"Glad to see that the army has made a man out of you," he joked trying to lighten the mood.
"Fuck you," Marcus replied sullenly. "You are still an arsehole."
***
They skirted the lonely farm and when Corbulo was satisfied that they could no longer be seen he turned due west in the direction that the woman had pointed out. There was no path and they stumbled on over the barren rocky and heather covered hills. The sun rose steadily in the sky and Corbulo felt his eyes and legs growing heavy with exhaustion. They needed a rest but he didn't dare stop. If they stopped now they would fall asleep where they stood. Marcus fell further and further behind as he limped along leaned heavily on his spear and Corbulo would have to go back and half push him up the hills. His son was in a lot of pain but his stoicism was remarkable and not once did he complain.
"Come on," Corbulo muttered as he slipped his hand around Marcus's waist and guided him towards the summit of the hill. Then they were on the ridge and Corbulo cried out in joy. Stretching out below him from horizon to horizon was a great valley, cut in half by a long lake that disappeared off into the distance. It was the largest and longest lake that he had ever seen. A dense dark green fir tree forest covered the land beside the water and came crawling up the hillside towards them.
"A river that cuts the land in half. It's not a river," Corbulo cried out, "Agricola was wrong, it's a lake." He clenched his fist in triumph as if he had just won first place at the Olympic games. "You know what Agricola told me," he said gripping Marcus's shoulder, "He told me that no Roman has ever crossed that water. The land beyond it is unknown to us. But by immortal Jupiter, you and me are going to be first to do so. That is going to be fine tavern story when we get back home."
Marcus nodded. "What now?" he said staring at the vast expanse of water.
"We find a boat or something to help us across."
They stumbled down the hillside and were soon lost in the forest. A gentle breeze started up and the noise of the wind rushing through the tree tops was calming and peaceful. At last they glimpsed the lake through the trees. The shoreline was marshy and flies were everywhere, dancing in swarms across the water. Marcus collapsed to the ground beside a tree too exhausted to swipe away the midges that swarmed around him. Corbulo walked up to the water's edge and gingerly poked his foot into the lake. The water was dark, brackish and ice cold. He looked up and stared at the opposite shore, it seemed a long way off. He needed to find a boat but finding one was easier said than done. He raised his hand to his brow, shielding his eyes from the sun and searched the opposite shore, but he could see no signs of people or human activity.
"Stay here," he said turning to Marcus.
The marshy lakeside soon gave way to rocks and then a small shingle beach. He looked up at the sun. It was nearly noon. Up ahead along the shore a tangled mass of tall water reeds swayed in the breeze. He was just about to retrace his steps when he spotted a dark shape lurking amongst the reeds. Curiously he approached and using his sword he gently parted the reeds. He grunted in surprise. It was a log and it looked half rotten. He stared at the wood for a long moment knowing somehow that the log was useful but being unable to see how. It was the exhaustion. He could hardly think straight. Then at last it came to him. It wasn't just a log. It was an old log canoe. The tree trunk had been hollowed out to form a primitive boat. It must have lain here for months after being abandoned. He grunted in relief. It would have to do.
He looked up at the sky and then turned to gaze around at the hills and the distant mountains. But they would cross during the dark. He made up his mind. If that mad druid that Marcus had talked about was indeed searching for them he couldn't take any more risks. Anyone on those hills would be able to see them if they attempted to cross during the day.
The sun had gone and it was getting dark when Corbulo returned with Marcus. He waded into the water and pulled the primitive boat free from the reeds. The wood felt soft and the log wobbled dangerously as they eased themselves into it but to Corbulo's relief it floated. He began to paddle using a piece of wood he'd found in the forest. Marcus sat hunched in the front his legs dangling into the water on both sides. He was using his hands as paddles. Neither of them spoke as they drifted further out into the lake and the darkness deepened. The water was placid and Corbulo peered over the side into the lake wondering how deep it was. Then he turned to look back at the shore they'd just left behind. Nothing stirred amongst the trees. Had they managed to shake off their pursuers?
The lake was completely silent and only the noise of their paddling disturbed the peace. They made slow progress. Soon the darkness prevented Corbulo from seeing the spot where they had set out from. They were alone in the midst of the dark and silent water. It was eerie.
"Marcus," he whispered, "Can you see anything?"
His son shook his head. It was as if the very stillness of the lake had stolen the words from his mouth.
The log drifted on through the darkness. Then suddenly the shoreline loomed up out of the night and Corbulo felt the boat grind and bump onto shingle. They had reached the western shore. Corbulo rose stiffly and plunged into the lake. The water came up to his knees. He waded ashore dragging the log higher up onto the beach as Marcus carried their bag of supplies onto dry land.
"We made it," Corbulo said fiercely as he plonked himself down on a rock.
Chapter Fifty Four - Terra Incognita
Corbulo woke with a start as someone poured water over his face. He spluttered, coughed and leapt to his feet. Marcus was standing close by. It was dawn. His son looked stronger and wide awake. He scowled.
"I could have cut your throat whilst you were sleeping," Marcus snarled, "By gods you deserve to be punished for what you did."
Corbulo raised his hand. "I am sorry Marcus," he muttered.
"I told you once that I never wanted to see you again. Do you know why? It wasn't just the beatings and your drunken foolish behaviour. I have endured worse in the army. No, it was because every time that I saw your face you reminded me of her."
Corbulo was silent as Marcus stepped up to him. For a moment they stood nose to nose with Marcus's angry eyes challenging him.
"Go on hit me one more time.
Then I will have an excuse to kill you," Marcus cried.
Corbulo didn't move nor did he say anything. He just looked at the ground.
"Do you know why she killed herself?"
Corbulo raised his head and looked his son straight in the eye.
"Go on tell me," he said.
Marcus's eyes glinted dangerously. "It was because you were going to take her to Italy when you retired. I had already made up my mind that I was staying here where I was born. She was afraid she would never see me again. She couldn't bear the thought of having her family ripped apart. We meant the world to her. All she ever wanted was to grow old with us. She didn't want to go with you. She wanted to stay here. She knew I was not going to go with you. She tried to tell you. But you wouldn't listen. You never listened to her. You treated her as if she were a new recruit that you could just bully and order about."
Marcus fell silent. Out on the lake a thick mist obscured the far shore.
Corbulo's cheeks burned with shame. He swallowed and then touched the phallic amulet that hung around his neck.
"You kept this," Corbulo said, "Remember when I gave it to you. The three initials are our initials, yours, mine and hers. Why did you keep it?"
Marcus turned and looked away.
"I don't know, sentimental value perhaps."
Corbulo nodded. "There is not a day that goes by that I don't mourn for her," he said quietly. "That's why I came to find you. I need to try and make right the wrong from the past. I thought I could do that by rescuing you."
Marcus took a deep breath.
"You are a fucking hero," he said, "That's the worst part."
Corbulo scratched his chin and looked around.
"I have been thinking," he said, "When we get back home we should erect a head stone for her. A memorial. That is the proper way to honour the dead."
Marcus took another deep breath and nodded.
"She would like that," he replied.
"There is something else. I am going to stay here in Britannia," Corbulo said, "I served my whole career here so why not. Quintus is planning to retire to some hill just south of Londinium. I think I may join him when he goes. Londinium is not that far from where your unit is stationed. I could come and visit you regularily." Corbulo paused. "If that's alright with you?"
Marcus blew the air from his cheeks and stared at the mist laden lake.
"That would be fine," he said at last.
Corbulo nodded and looked pleased. Then he stretched out his arm to Marcus and the younger man clasped it in the soldiers way.
"We should be going," Corbulo said glancing at the mist.
***
The mist seemed to be growing thicker as the log canoe glided through the silent black water. Corbulo sat at the back of the craft peering into the fog but he could only see a few yards ahead. An eerie silence hung over the lake. He drove his piece of wood into the water with careful measured strokes, resting now and then to listen. Marcus sat at the front, his legs dangling in the water over both sides as he used his hands to help push the boat along. He too seemed to be listening. Then he pulled his leg up onto the half submerged wood and twisted round to examine the long scab on his calf.
"How is the leg?" Corbulo whispered.
Marcus didn't reply as he examined the wound.
"I think the infection is spreading," he muttered, "I have seen wounds like this before. If I don't do something soon then the whole leg will have to come off."
"We will get it seen too by the army doctors as soon as we get back," Corbulo said trying to sound reassuring. He tried to remember what the army doctors had told him about treating wounds but he couldn't remember much. Silently he cursed himself. If only he'd paid more attention.
Marcus shook his head. "No, I must do it now. A doctor explained it to me once. You boil a knife or sharp instrument in hot water. That makes it clean. Then you lance the wound and drain the infection. Once it's all gone you clean the wound with a disinfectant and bandage it. Then you pray to the gods."
Corbulo looked away embarrassed.
"A good doctor is a soldier's best friend," Corbulo muttered, "If you have to bribe anyone in the army then bribe a doctor. He will keep you alive."
Marcus didn't seem to be listening.
"We have a knife, we can boil the water but I have no disinfectant or bandages," he said as he touched the wound.
Corbulo turned to look out into the mist. If the maps that Quintus had shown him at Inchtuthil were correct this lake would take them southwest. If they followed it they would be able to cut across the mountains to the south east and make contact with one of the Roman forts at the valley entrances. He had no idea how long it would take them to cross the highlands but they still had some food. The druid if he was indeed coming after them would be watching all the obvious routes south. Maybe by going this far west they had thrown their pursuers off their trail? Maybe they would be able to slip away unnoticed.
There was no wind and the fog did not lift as the hours slowly passed. The mist hung over the lake, thick and impenetrable, hiding them as they drifted through it alone and undisturbed. Corbulo was glad for the cover it provided them. He kept the log canoe close to the western shore. Now and then he would glance towards the west, wondering what lay out there in those trackless wastes where no Roman had ever set foot. Whatever ones opinion about Caledonia he thought, no one could argue that it was not a stunningly beautiful land.
***
It was dusk when they suddenly heard the voices ahead of them. At the front Marcus tensed and picked up his spear. Then Corbulo heard it again. Two men were having a conversation. Then up ahead a strange shape loomed up out of the mist and darkness. Corbulo gasped in surprise. The shape was a small circular island made of tree trunks that had been sunk into the lakebed and filled in with turf. On top of the man made island stood a single small round house. Corbulo dug his paddle into the water and tried to force the craft to a standstill but the log ploughed on propelled by its momentum. The men's voices were closer. They were coming from around the back of the house. Corbulo stared at the strange construction. Who would want to build a house out here in the lake?
"Let's go round," Marcus whispered.
Corbulo looked undecided. The mist and gathering darkness would surely cover them and allow them to slip by unnoticed but Marcus needed to have that wound tended to. Maybe the people who lived here could help? Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they would be hostile. Corbulo was concious that Marcus was waiting for an answer. The log was about to hit the island.
"Let's see if they can help us," Corbulo whispered.
Marcus said nothing as the canoe bumped gently into the island. Corbulo reached out and grabbed hold of a tree trunk. Then he called out.
"Friend, may we come ashore?"
The two of them sat tensely in their craft and waited. Corbulo had his hand on his sword pommel and his right foot rested against the island ready to push them off if they had to make a quick exit. The conversation they'd heard ceased abruptly. Then two men appeared around the side of the house and stared down at them. They were both short and stocky with dark hair but where one had a full black beard the other's face was pock marked with red splotches. For a long awkward moment no one spoke as the two men took in every detail of the canoe and its occupants.
"May we come ashore," Corbulo repeated, "My son is hurt. He needs help. We will make it worth your time."
The two men on the island exchanged glances.
"Come round the back, you can get out there," the man with the beard said in a thick accent.
"Are you sure about this?" Marcus whispered as Corbulo manoeuvred the canoe around the island. "Did you see how they looked at us? They know we are Romans."
Corbulo sighed. "We don't have a choice, that leg of yours needs tending to. We won't stay long."
Corbulo felt stiff as he clambered onto the wooden platform. He stooped and hauled the log from the lake and laid it down on the island. Marcus stood to one si
de leaning of his spear, the sack with supplies slung over his shoulder. The man with the splotched face watched them from the doorway, his shrewd eyes taking in every detail and movement. A moment later the bearded man emerged from the hut closely followed by a young woman. The woman kept her eyes lowered as the bearded man muttered something to her.
"Do you have vinegar?" Marcus said looking at the woman. "I think the cut in my leg has become infected. I need you to boil some water. Do you have any bandages?"
The woman kept her eyes turned to the ground.
"I have some apple vinegar. I will clean your wound with that but we have no bandages. Only the Roman settlements have such things."
The bearded man angrily scoffed her over the head and the young woman abruptly fell silent.
"Follow her," the man growled, "She will tend to your wound."
It was dark inside except for a small wood fire in the middle of the space. Soft animal skins lay scattered across the floor and a boar's head hung from one of the walls. The woman crouched beside the fire and busied herself with the iron pot that was cooking over it. Marcus limped over to her and sat down beside the woman and showed her the festering cut on his calf. Marcus smiled encouragingly and the woman smiled shyly in return.
Corbulo turned to the two men who were watching from the door way.
"Thank you," he nodded his appreciation, "We will not stay long. What can I do to repay your hospitality?"
"Where have you come from? Where are you heading?" the bearded man said folding his arms across his chest as he ignored Corbulo's question.
"We have come from Cawdor, the Roman fort to the north, near the sea," Corbulo said guardedly.
"I know where it is," the bearded man interrupted.
Corbulo paused and glanced at Marcus. "My son and I came here to trade. We were on our way back south when this happened," he gestured to Marcus's wound. "He got injured."
"Looks like a knife wound to me," the disfigured man muttered.
The bearded man spat onto the ground.
"What were you trading?" he asked.
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