And then, a Thracian warrior led dozens of riders to our rescue.
The horses appeared from the dark like vaettir, spirits of the woods. They were neighing softly, loved the war as much as their riders, and many were spattered with the blood of the surprised guards in the wooded hill.
We jumped aside, and the enemy watched, their mouths open at the specter of their death.
The first Thracian was roaring, and he vaulted from his horse, hefting a Thracian spear with a heavy, curved blade, and crashed it down at the enemy. He fell in two pieces. The terrible spear stabbed with rage, dropping other men as he went forward. The following Thracians joined in, cursed as they saw most of their comrades dead or hurt, and followed the first rider. Agetan and I, with Tudrus pushing us, went for the left side as The Gold Wolf led his men and danced amid the foes in the middle and the right. The enemy were confused, robbed of leaders and an easy victory, their men falling as if struck by lightning, and I laughed, as I felt victory calling. I pushed into the enemy, Wandal’s shield guarding me, and Agetan pushed a spear to keep the few quarrelsome enemy away. I stabbed, stabbed and snarled, and three men fell, two wounded, one dead and we stomped over them.
“Come, bottom-feeders,” Turdus roared, “and meet your fate.” His sword ripped through a fleeing young guard’s back. A large man with ten others tried to form a desperate wall before the house, but it was a thin and a shieldless one, and we roared our way at them. The large man grasped my shield, took a strike from Wandal’s spear, and Nightbright visited his belly, and we butchered him like a lamb on the stairs.
The enemy ran.
The Thracians killed two, and loped after the rest like foxes. None should survive. Some would, but it mattered little.
“To the doorway! Guard the gate!” I roared, and Wandal pulled men to close the gate, while the rest of us marched to the doorway.
A servant opened it and went on his knees before us.
“Where are Postumus, the guests, and the women?”
“In the garden,” he panted. “Please, do not—”
A Thracian walked past and killed him, and I pushed him aside.
We walked in, and there I found Cassia, whose eyes glowed with wonder and joy. Marcus was before her and Gervas, with a drawn, quivering sword, but there was no threat. I stepped forward, and Marcus, speaking to Postumus, who was frowning and shaking his head, was guided to the side. My eyes followed him, and I tried to do my duty. “Anyone in here?”
Marcus shook his head. “Slaves. Will you silence everyone in here?”
“I will do it,” The Gold Wolf said helpfully and turned to the Thracians, who set about robbing and silencing the house. Screams echoed in the place, and I turned to look at Cassia.
I watched her. She stared at me with disbelief, and so did Gervas, who finally roared, and rushed me. I grasped him from the air, and felt Cassia close. I embraced her, and crushed both into my embrace, smearing both in blood, and gave Cassia a kiss that lasted for an hour, two, though only some moments, to be honest.
“You are safe,” I panted, and then, pushed her back. I watched Gisil, who was wringing her hands.
“Is he truly dead?” she asked, and I realized how cruel our plan had been for her. “I think I would know, if he were. Is he—”
I smiled. “He is alive. And well, unless he drinks too much wine.”
She nodded, went to her knees, and wept, and the boy Wulf, slightly confused, tried to console her, giving me curious glances. Adalwulf would see them later.
I turned to Postumus. The man took a step back, eying my bedraggled state. I had been wounded by a lion, the Ubii, and in battle, and I felt faint, tired, and perhaps even exhausted. I was unsure if I had been badly hurt even. “Do you know?” I asked him.
Postumus straightened his back. “Only what this man told me. It is madness. True madness.”
“If you wish to go back to true madness,” I told him bluntly, “then go back to Livia’s care. Or, you will go with some of our men and travel to Tiberius in Rhodes. He shall protect you, and you will gain life as you have never known it. It will be a much better one than you have had so far. And at some point, you shall be given to my … your father.” I saw his hesitation. “Or, if you resist, you shall go anyway. In chains.”
“I am—”
“Grateful,” I said simply.
He took a step forward. “You hesitated and almost said ‘my’ father just now.”
I smiled tiredly. “And I am your … brother.” He stared at me with huge, shocked eyes. “A tale for later times.” I turned to Marcus. “Take the news to Father.”
“He might not like it,” he said. “He was fond of Herman.”
“I care not what he likes, Marcus,” I answered. “He will trust Tiberius better than Livia. He will gain all he ever wished. And you know why he can trust us.” I leaned closer to him. “And as for that, you shall know what I expect.”
He nodded. “And your oath to kill your father?” Marcus asked wryly.
“Is between him and me,” I told him. “But I break oaths, don’t I? He made me a man like that. Perhaps I can break one to his benefit for a change.”
Cassia pulled me around. “What are we going to do? Are we leaving?”
I sighed and looked down. “You are.”
She looked so astonished, I was sure she would slap my head off. “You cannot mean you are staying?”
I nodded and pulled her aside. She was trembling, and shaking her head. I spoke slowly, and carefully, like trying to charm a doe. “I have a duty to perform, and one that will ensure you two are ever safe. I shall follow, when everything is ready. I must help Tiberius, as he arranged all this. I owe him.”
She was shaking her head, wiping back tears. “Duty?”
Tudrus and Wandal stood nearby, looking at me with shock. Agetan was listening, while looting a corpse.
I held her, and she slammed my chest. “I have waited for years. In danger, I have suffered. And now, you would leave me again? I have warned you before, Hraban, that I will not be left behind.”
“I am not leaving you behind,” I told her. “I am sending you ahead. I need you. There is something I have planned. Listen.”
And so I spoke to her, explaining what I had planned with Adalwulf, and especially, for what[KS1]. I spoke to her while the house was looted, and people murdered. And what I asked from her, made her silent, tired, and sad.
“You are asking me for this? Not only to go without you for years, but also for …” she spoke. “It might end badly.”
“We must still be brave for a while,” I told her. “And you can do it.”
She placed a hand on my cheek. “For Gervas.”
“For you, and Gervas,” I said.
“I shall spend this night with you, Hraban,” she told me, “but what you have planned, and what you are asking? When we meet again, I cannot promise you I will love you still. And you have no idea what you have asked me to do.”
Her words stung like poison, and I wiped away tears.
She shook her head sadly. “I will try. But never again shall I be left behind, nor sent ahead, and I cannot promise I am the same, when you see me next. But I will do my best for us. After this, I owe you nothing. Tell me you understand.”
I nodded. “I do.”
I cursed, hugged her, and then Gervas, and turned to my friends.
I waved my hand, lost. “This is it. Your oaths are fulfilled. You are all leaving,” I said with some regret. “You will go, and let me finish what I swore to do. I will pay back Tiberius, I will.”
“It’s your oath of revenge,” Tudrus said bitterly. “That’s why.”
I shook my head. “I swear, there is more. You will go with The Gold Wolf, and you will let him take Cassia to safety. You go on your own way when he tells you to go. We shall loot this place, steal all we can, and you will be rich enough to buy your own kingdom.” I felt the tears come, and I shook my head to keep brave. “I am sorry, but our roads ru
n to two different directions.”
“You expect us to just … leave?” Tudrus asked.
Wandal tossed his spear into a wall. “Just like that? Now?”
I nodded. “As I told you.”
Tudrus walked next to me, his face a boiling cauldron of shame, and desire.
“For Bohscyld,” I whispered, “should be the last of us to fall.”
He finally nodded, and grasped me, and nodded. “We shall accompany them for a ways, and then go. Keep safe.”
Agetan was nodding, and saluted me. Wandal shook his head. “No.”
“What?” I asked. “What are you saying?”
“I shall not break my oath,” he said.
“I release you from your oath,” I snarled.
“I gave one to Gaius,” he said, and turned. “You cannot release me from that.”
We left the house, and found Gernot’s safe house north of Rome. I spent the night with Cassia, and we tried to forget the future, and enjoyed the moment of joy and love. Early in the morning, The Gold Wolf’s men took them all on a trip to the North, the remains of the Yellow Band with them. Postumus was already far away, on his way to Tiberius. Marcus left at the same time, and I gave him his orders, as well. He didn’t take them with a smile, but he would obey.
For his own safety.
That day I visited Livia, and cursed Wandal, and missed my son and wife, and friends I had saved.
“Gods, let Cassia be safe, and let her succeed,” I prayed, before I entered Livia’s domus for the last time in my life.
CHAPTER 15
Her eyes glowed with shock. She sat, and didn’t prune the tree for once. Wind buffeted her hair as she squirmed and wondered at my words. Then she asked me again. “You did what?”
“Postumus is with Tiberius now,” I said simply. “In Rhodes.”
She digested the information, and the incredulous look on her face changed into one of puzzlement, as she struggled to understand what had happened. “With Tiberius?”
“With him,” I answered. “And he will be handling any discussions with Maroboodus from now on. You need not bother.”
She slammed a hand on her chair. “And if Augustus wishes to see Postumus? What then? How will I—”
I leaned over her and she went quiet from shock. “Then you,” I answered, “will handle it. He is sick, he is raving mad, he should rest, and I need not explain to you how to do this, right? You are the Queen of Lies. That is your role now, as well, but not for your own benefit for a change. Nothing else is needed, but an obedient Livia.” I leaned very close to her. “And you shall not disobey. Everything is as Tiberius wills it.”
“I see,” she said and looked away. “He lied to me? And you …” she laughed. “You did all of this?” She shook her head. “Wait. You are bringing him back to guard the boys? You are guarding the boys, and you … you and Germanicus?”
“Germanicus will obey,” I snarled. “I know what you did to him. He will keep his mouth shut, you won’t approach him, and you will not make another move for Gaius or Lucius.”
She sat there, an empty look on her face. I stepped back, fighting the urge to stab her dead. She spoke haltingly, like a tired old woman, her voice breaking. “But has … he forgiven me? And he is still coming back?”
I nodded. “He had not forgiven you for Drusus. Are you fucking mad? Never. He agrees to return to Rome, but on his own terms, for his own goals,” I told her. “He holds his own dice in this game, and you are not on the table. He will guard the boys.”
Her eyes flashed and she smoothed her tunic. “You have sent your dear family away?”
“They are gone,” I said. I had seen them sailing out. “And you shall never mention them again. I have regained what is dearest to me. You shall never reach for them again.”
She smiled wistfully and thought for a moment. “I shall miss them. But why are you here, still? Why didn’t you go away with them? Why are you still serving Tiberius? Since that is what it is now. You are serving him, and yet you could be gone with your family. What do you possibly hope to gain?”
“I have my reasons,” I said simply and coldly. “I will keep my oath to him. He has my service until we agree we are done.”
She frowned, and shivered. “I don’t understand you, Corvus. Not at all. I shall contemplate on it, since it seems I have time to do so, finally. And what will become of Postumus, then?” she wondered. “Will my son actually give him to Maroboodus?”
“I do not know,” I lied. “I told you; you are not sitting at the table. Retire, Livia, and let your honorable son fix your deeds.”
She shook her head in wonder. “A man of honor would treat his mother differently. If Augustus finds out about Postumus, he will let blood flow. But I shall work to hide the truth. What will a mother not do for her son, Corvus?”
“Indeed,” I said. “The mother used an idiot child to try to murder Gaius and Lucius. That idiot child might not keep your secret, if you fail to sit down and be quiet. The Guard is out of your reach. Your money, your influence, your spies, and plans, are all a thing of history. So, let it be, Livia. Retire and enjoy your evil fruits, while you can. Prune your damned figs.” I handed her a scroll. “This is for you.”
She eyed it, grabbed it, and she knew it was from Tiberius. She opened it up, and read it. Then she dropped it in the table next to her. “He is a fool. He is an utter fool.”
“He is not,” I said. “He will be the sword of Rome, and not the Augustus of Rome. Gaius and the rest of the family are safe from you. And so is young Drusus. You will not talk to him again. And pray Tiberius gets to return to Rome, or he will have nothing to lose. He has the scroll of Kleitos now.”
“Oh,” she smiled. “You gave it to him.”
“I did. Even Augustus can still re-marry.”
She frowned and then chuckled. “I will aid him in the ways he asks, my ungrateful son, for whom I did so much. I will not interfere.”
I stood there, weighing the evil woman’s words.
She gave me a swift look, took a shuddering breath, and sat back. “Perhaps it is time I watch from the side and breathe, and let go of the strings. As long as he comes home.”
She grasped a decanter of wine, tossed it, and it struck the tree. It broke in a thousand pieces, and by the look on her face, so had her heart. She gave me a long look. “Did you know Augustus divorced Tiberius from Julia? It is a slap for Julia, but also for Tiberius. I am beginning to think very few things can bring my boy back. Even a bloody war.” She pointed a finger at me. She waved me off.
I left, but turned to look at her, and saw how she grasped the scroll, ran her fingers over it, and smiled.
And I did as well.
***
The following year the great court of Gaius was preparing to leave for the East, where he would have to deal with lingering rebellions in Syria, and a very real one in Judea. He would also look to the safety of Egypt, and warn off the Parthian empire that was still reeling from internal trouble. He would resolve the question of Armenia, the great kingdom that Rome and Parthia both coveted.
And a thousand other things had to be dealt with, as well.
All were issues Tiberius should have dealt with years past.
And now, a man I had grown friends with, a gentle man who feared everything that would be asked of him, who would love nothing better than to read and write history and study geography, was about to go and solve all the problems Augustus suffered from in the East.
That day, amid the chaos of getting ready, Wandal and I guarded Gaius. There were twenty other Guardsmen coming along, all from our turma, and Sejanus would be there with a century of Praetorians. Ulrich was there as well, silent, sorrowful, but free of his service to Germanicus. The historian Gaius loved was joining us, and Marcus Lollius was coming along, tired as he was, always hovering near Gaius to give him advice. He was now an adviser rather than a teacher, and another man, Publius Sulpicious Quirinius, was the rector. Publius was fifty, handsom
e, and was speaking kindly with Lucius that day. The fool Lucius surged to hug his brother as they were finally separated. Both wore fabulous sculpted armor, both were happy as birds, since Lucius was now also betrothed to Aemilia Lepida, the daughter of the infamous triumvir, who had finally been brought to Octavian’s side after many uncertain years. That girl and Livilla were staring at the brothers, Publius was laughing at their happiness, and for some moments, I lost sight of them all, as people pressed past. I snarled for the guards to push in, and as they did, I saw Livia.
She had a hand on Livilla’s shoulder, her eyes were on mine, and she smiled as she left.
Later, Livilla was riding with Gaius as our caravan travelled for the coast, and I felt the she-beast reaching out from defeat once again.
BOOK 3: THE BANE OF GODS
“If you would rule, you must turn a blind eye, and harden your heart.”
Hraban to Gaius
CHAPTER 16 (Samos, May, 1 B.C.)
Samos was green and incredibly beautiful, to the delight of Gaius and his court. It had the best harbor we had seen, and the gleaming blue-green waters complimented the green of the hills. Gaius truly enjoyed the beginning of his great trip. He was interested in everything. In Samos, the pottery makers and their exquisite skills drew him like honey would a bee, and unhappy Livilla trailed after him as he admired the great factories where locals, often rebellious toward Rome in the past, but still one of the great Roman allies amongst the Ionian nations, toiled under his admiring eyes. The historian, Velleius Paterculus, spoke to him of the past of the island, and Publius added tidbits and facts. Lollius walked with us, the guards, looking worried.
“Ate a sour plum, eh?” Wandal asked him.
He gave Wandal a quick look. While he had developed a sort of trust towards me, he didn’t like the rest of the men of the turma addressing him. He answered, nonetheless. “Sea. I do not enjoy it. The drinking water is terrible in the ship. Grows stale and sour in a day and you shit constantly if you have any of it. Then you must drink more. And shitting in a ship is uncomfortable and perilous at best.” He gave me a small grin. “Especially if you are fat and in a terrible shape.”
The Bane of Gods: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 5) Page 22