Danger in the Wind

by Jane Finnis

  I felt like cheering. Quintus was magnificent.

  But the prince merely shrugged. “What’s your name?”

  “Quintus Antonius Delfinus. Imperial investigator.”

  “Well, Quintus Antonius Delfinus, I don’t think you’re in any position to threaten me. And we’re wasting time.” He nodded towards his men. “Put them with the others. Make sure they’re securely tied up. Double the guard on the barn and in the woods from now on. Catching this lot might have been like picking plums off a tree, but they may try sending someone more useful.”

  So they marched us ignominiously away. We walked with what dignity we could. I felt frightened, not to mention humiliated and disappointed at how easily we’d been caught.

  The clearing with the buildings Gambax had described was only a short distance away. We halted outside the door of the enormous wooden barn, and one of our escort stripped off our cloaks, while two more brought ropes and tied each of us up, hands behind our backs and feet loosely hobbled together so we could barely walk without falling. It was done in silence, quickly and efficiently. Then the red-haired man pulled the heavy door wide open, and we were shepherded towards it.

  “Help!” a voice cried out from inside. It was Chloe’s voice, shrill and scared.

  “No help, my dear,” Venutius said. “But we’re bringing some company to make the hours pass more pleasantly.”

  As they pushed us into the barn I had a brief glimpse of hay piled up waist-high all along the left-hand side, an empty space to the right, and the two girls huddled together at the far end…except the far end was much nearer than it should be, the whole interior was much smaller. That back wall must be merely a partition, separating off a further section which presumably had its own entrance from outside. I could distinguish the outline of a door in the partition, but it had no handle.

  “Lucius!” That was Vitellia’s voice, a mixture of fear and joy. Of course, she hadn’t known my brother had arrived in Isurium.

  “I’m here, Kitten,” Lucius answered. “It’s going to be all right.”

  Then our captors slammed the door, and we heard two heavy bolts shoot home. We all stood still in what felt like complete darkness. But as our eyes adjusted, we realised it wasn’t pitch-black, only extremely gloomy. I could make out two small windows, one on each side and very high up. They’d no glass in them, and presumably could have been closed with shutters, but you could see this hadn’t been done for a very long time. They were festooned with masses of giant spider-webs, complete with giant spiders, which blocked most of the light but let in some air at least. I’m not one of those females who faints away at the sight of a spider, and I’d have been fascinated to watch them if circumstances had been different. Now they only served to remind me that I was as helpless as the flies trapped in their silken nets.

  I tried to walk forward, but found it too difficult, so I sat down on the earth floor. The others were doing the same. We shuffled along on our tails till we were sitting close together, and the two girls, who were tied up as we were, worked their way from the far end to join us, so we formed a rough circle. Lucius and Vitellia sat together, talking softly. I noticed that both girls had managed to retain their cloaks, and I envied them the warmth. The barn felt cold. Our own cloaks had been flung into the barn after us, but for all the chance we had of wearing them, they might as well have been back in Isurium.

  Quintus said softly, “We’re glad to see you, girls. Are either of you hurt?”

  Vitellia murmured, “No, just uncomfortable from being tied up all day. We’ve been here hours. Oh, Lucius, when I saw you there I thought you’d come to get us out of this horrid place.” It sounded as if she was about to cry, but there wasn’t light enough to see.

  “We’ll be out of here soon,” my brother said. “Reinforcements are on their way.”

  “Chloe,” Gambax said, “they haven’t hurt you either, love, have they?”

  “No. I’m stiff and sore, but nothing worse.” Her voice was almost unrecognisable, no longer the self-confident, spoiled young lady, but a frightened child. “And I know it’s all my fault. I’m sorry I’ve got you all into this mess. I didn’t realise what would happen.”

  I bit back the remark I’d like to have made. Probably everyone did. There was no point in recriminations now, there’d be time enough later for telling the silly child what we thought of her. If indeed “later” had any real meaning for us…

  I pulled myself together as Quintus whispered, “Listen, everyone, we must plan how to escape, but remember we’re likely to be overheard if we speak in normal voices. If we want to talk among ourselves, it must be like this. But our audience will think it odd if they don’t hear anything.”

  He went on in his normal voice, “What’s done is done. Let’s concentrate on the next few hours. It seems to me we’re stuck here till the reinforcements come, so we may as well just make ourselves as comfortable as we can.”

  “Are reinforcements really coming?” Chloe asked.

  “They are. There are patrols searching in the woods now. We weren’t sure which of their hideouts the rebels had taken you to, so we split up into several groups to save time. We all arranged to rendezvous before nightfall. When we don’t show up there, the others will know where to find us…and you. We just have to wait here and not give the natives any trouble. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Quintus spoke firmly and confidently, and loudly enough to be overheard by whatever guards were posted outside the barn, if they were taking the trouble to listen. It was impressive, so convincing I almost found myself believing what he was saying.

  In a whisper he added, “That should reassure them that we’ll be good little boys and girls, while we get ready to escape. Now here’s what we’re actually going to do.”

  We then had one of the weirdest conversations I can ever remember. Really it was two conversations, one privately in soft whispers, the other loud and strident for the benefit of any listeners. Describing it afterwards like this, it sounds clumsy and awkward, but actually it worked surprisingly well.

  Quintus began it. “These ropes feel pretty flimsy to me, made of old hemp and quite frayed. We’ll find a way to saw through them. We need something sharp within reach, so we can rub the ropes across it till the strands split apart.”

  That’ll take all night, I thought, but then reflected that we had all night at our disposal, so I said nothing.

  “A good spiky nail sticking out of the wall, or a jagged wood-splinter,” Lucius agreed. “I didn’t have time to notice if there was anything like that here. Did anyone else?”

  “There’s something…” Chloe began loudly, and then remembered, and with admirable quickness changed what she was going to say. “There’s something odd that I don’t understand about all this.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “By the door, Antonius. I’ll show you.”

  She began to inch her way towards it, and so did Quintus and Lucius. Meanwhile she continued out loud, “I got a note from you, Gambax, this morning, telling me to meet you by the river. When we got there we were ambushed. So you didn’t write it, presumably?”

  “No, I didn’t. It was a trick to get you out of the house and stop you going to the fort. I’d never lead you into a trap, never!”

  “Here we are,” she blurted out as she reached the door, and added in a whisper, “Sorry. It’s here.”

  “What’s that, Chloe?” Quintus asked in a hearty voice.

  Again the child’s quick wits came to her rescue. “Here we are in the middle of nowhere. I wonder…can the gods still hear us?”

  “I’m sure they can,” Quintus answered.

  “Then let’s each say a prayer for help. I always pray to Diana the Huntress when I’m in trouble.”

  “Me, too,” I exclaimed. “You don’t have to be in a temple to call on the Immortals. Let’s all pray quietly. The Roman gods are still with us, and if we ask for their help, they’ll hear us, even if the Brigantian gods aren’t listening.”<
br />
  There was a short silence. I expect everyone prayed. I know I did.

  “Good,” Quintus was by the door now. “Well, Chloe? What are we looking for?”

  “There’s a nail at about waist level on the left. I felt my cloak catch on it when they brought us here.”

  “Good girl.” He and Lucius were searching the walls, but having trouble seeing anything much in the gloom.

  “Got it,” Lucius breathed. “Sticks out about a finger’s width, good and sharp too.” He levered himself upright against the wall. “I can touch it with the backs of my hands, but I can’t bring the rope near enough to the nail to do any cutting. Ouch! All I’m doing is making myself bleed.” He struggled on for a while, then stepped back and Quintus took his place, but we could all see that the pain from his injured arm made it impossible for him even to get close, and he’d then have the same problem as Lucius.

  “Let me try.” Chloe had got herself into a standing position near the door. “They tied us up differently, look.” And we all realised that the two girls’ hands were bound in front of them, not behind as ours were.

  “How did you manage that?” Quintus smiled for the first time since we’d entered the barn.

  “We were cold this morning, and we asked the men to let us keep our cloaks on. So they had to tie us like this.” She moved close to the door and held her hands out, and sure enough, she could get part of the rope onto the nail, but not the point itself. So she began sawing it across the metal, with very short thrusts back and forth.

  “Not too hard,” Quintus warned softly. “Slow and sure. Don’t rattle the door…Well done, that’s right. Let’s give the audience some distraction.” He slid down the wall to a sitting position again, and moved into the centre of the room. “I’m starving,” he said heartily.

  We all followed him, leaving Chloe working laboriously by the door.

  Lucius joined in. “So am I. I wonder if they’ll bring us any food.”

  “I shouldn’t be feeling hungry at all,” I said. “I ate far too much at the party yesterday. Did anybody try the goose with cherry sauce? It was really delicious.”

  We babbled on, keeping the chatter going while watching Chloe, willing her to get herself free. We must have discussed every dish on offer yesterday and were starting on the wines, and I for one was beginning to wonder if she’d ever do it. I racked my brains for another inane topic of conversation.

  Then suddenly she let out a stifled gasp and stepped back from the door, waving both hands in the air. She forgot that her feet were tied and went full length on the earth floor, but she leapt up immediately and was still waving.

  “Done it!” It was only a whisper, but it held a whole world of triumph.

  “I think that party was one of the most brilliant I’ve ever seen,” Quintus said aloud. We all agreed enthusiastically, trusting that our audience wouldn’t realise where the real brilliance lay.

  Chloe flapped her hands, flexing her fingers to loosen their stiffness. Then she sat upright, leant forward, and untied her feet. She stood up a little unsteadily, and walked across to where we all sat.

  “Who first?” she mouthed. “You, Quintus Antonius? Your bad arm must be painful.”

  Quintus glanced round at us. “I suppose nobody is carrying a knife?”

  “I am,” I said. “In my belt-pouch.”

  “Excellent. Use that, Chloe.”

  It was, as Congrio had said, a good little knife. She had us all free in no time. The relief was enormous. We could move and walk about, and that made us feel that somehow we had a measure of control over our situation. It was hard to keep remembering not to exclaim aloud.

  But our pleasure didn’t last long. There was a shout somewhere outside, too distant to make out the words, then came hoof-beats, a single horse cantering through the trees. When the rider shouted again, nearer this time, we could all hear the one word “Venutius!”

  “What’s up?” Someone answered from close by the barn. “Who wants the prince? Oh, it’s you, Katakos. What’s all the noise for?”

  The man was panting, speaking in short jerky sentences. “They’ve broken their word. At the fort. They’ve executed two already.”

  “What? Two of ours? You sure about that?”

  “Yes, quite sure. Brennus’ son is one; don’t know about the other. The lads on watch in the village saw it. They sent word as we arranged. Stone dead, they are. So much for waiting until dawn!”

  Someone else said, “Well, if they won’t wait, we don’t have to. We can take our revenge as soon as we like.” Several of his comrades cheered.

  Katakos said, “Pass the word to the others, will you? I must find Venutius.”

  “I’m here, Katakos. They’ve started the killings, you say?”

  “Yes, Venutius. Two dead already.”

  “Then we must act now. Call the men here.”

  There was the sound of a horn blown long and loud, three blasts in all. As the echoes died away in the woods I heard Quintus mutter, “Gods, this is what we’ve been dreading. The start of open war.”

  Nobody else spoke for a while. What can you say when you’ve just listened to your death sentence?

  Chapter XXIX

  Eventually Lucius burst out, “How in the gods’ name could Trebonius do this? After the message Venutius sent him, after we told him what our plans were…he knows we’re out here searching. How could he?”

  “It seems he doesn’t care overmuch whether any of us live or die,” Quintus answered bitterly.

  I said, “I can see what’s happened, and the gods know what we can do, but Trebonius has kept his word. I’m sure he hasn’t killed any of the hostages from the village, Quintus. The natives have misunderstood something they’ve seen.”

  “How can it be a misunderstanding? Either two of the hostages are dead, or they’re alive.”

  “But other Brigantians may have been killed in the fighting around the village. There have been patrols out all day, jumpy and angry and waiting for an excuse to spill blood. And some of them have spilt it. Didn’t you here the centurion on duty when we were leaving, telling me two men had been executed in the forum for setting fire to Roman property? And it’s late in the day now, so I doubt if they were the first.”

  Lucius swore. “Gods, that’s probably it. We must tell Venutius, try to make him understand that Trebonius hasn’t broken his word.”

  Quintus shook his head and put his finger to his lips, then whispered, “Can’t talk to him, he’ll see that we’re not tied up.” Aloud he declared, “No point, I’m afraid. He won’t take our word for anything, will he? And even if he did, his men are angry and he probably couldn’t persuade them that arsonists and looters being killed isn’t a cause for war.”

  We were all talking loudly, but even so we could hear voices, footsteps, and hoof-beats, the unmistakable sounds of a group of men gathering together. I tried to estimate how many of them there might be, but I couldn’t—a couple of dozen perhaps?

  “Listen to me, men of Brigantia.” Venutius’ voice rang out, and they were all immediately quiet. He sounded quite close to us, an unexpected piece of luck, because it meant we could hear what he was saying. “The Roman pigs have broken their word and started to kill the hostages they took this morning. You all know what that means.”

  An angry roar rose up from the men, followed by a chilling chant of “Kill the Romans! Kill the Romans!” I felt sick with fear. I went to stand by Quintus and gripped his hand. I saw Lucius put an arm round Vitellia, and Gambax move to comfort Chloe. Titch, the only one without a partner here, stood straight and still with an expression that said anyone who tried to kill him would pay dearly.

  “Not so fast, boys,” Venutius called, and the chanting stopped. “Of course you’re angry. So am I. But there’s something else. You know that we picked up the girls by sending them a forged letter this morning. But now more Romans have come out from the fort, five of them, four men and a woman. One of them is a soldier, and they’v
e headed directly here to find us. In other words, our base here is no longer secret, and no longer safe. It looks as if someone has talked.”

  Somebody shouted, “I never trusted Portius. He used us for his own schemes and plans, he never believed in what we’re trying to do. He’ll drop us when it suits him.”

  “Possibly, but not just yet,” Venutius said. “Don’t forget he hasn’t been paid for this last load from Cataractonium, and he’s still desperate for money. And we’ve used him too, remember. All that good Roman leather he’s sent us… Settling his debts was a small price to pay for it, not to mention the information he passed on. No, he’s too smart to mess on his own doorstep.”

  “Who’s Portius?” Gambax whispered.

  “Code name. Tell you later,” Quintus breathed.

  “Well, whoever’s talked, we’ve got to move, Venutius,” a voice called.

  “Yes, we’ll go tonight. Take as much as we can with us, especially the good stuff, the war gear, boots, all that. The fancy soft leather you got to impress your women may have to stay behind. We can store it all at Katakos’ place for now. That’s never been involved with the stuff from the tannery, so it’ll be safe. All right, Katakos?”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Then let’s get to it. You all know your jobs. Guards, back in position, there may be other patrols coming our way. Wagon and mule drivers, get the animals and vehicles ready. The rest of you start gathering the leather into manageable bundles and loading it.”

  “What’s happening about the hostages?” Katakos asked. “Do I get to store them, too? Or can I just have the women and someone else can take the men?”

  “Leave them to me,” Venutius said. “They won’t be going anywhere. The less you all know about it, the better. Accidents will happen, won’t they?”