War Raven: Barbarian of Rome Chronicles Volume One

by Nick Morris

  He stared into his cup, seemingly held by contents. “I am twenty years old, as near as matters.”

  “Did you have any family in Germania?”

  “My family...” She saw his fingers tighten around the cup. “My family were killed.”

  Chayna was taken aback by the pain in his voice. Swallowing hard, she felt compelled to continue. “I’m sorry about your family, Guntram. I’ve heard travellers say that the people of Germania marry very young, and wondered perhaps if you had a wife and child?”

  “No wife, no child.” His words were edged with bitterness. “But, there was a brother, a boy, and someone else – someone who trusted in me. They may live, but there’s no way of knowing. One day I’ll search for them, after I deal with the one responsible for the deaths of my people.”

  She felt his anger wash over her in waves.

  “Guntram, I’m so sorry,” her hand reached across the table to rest on his, “I see the memory causes you great pain, and I understand the feeling of great loss.”

  He looked away, but his hand remained.

  “And what about your future, after you’ve done these things?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful.

  His eyes met hers again, and they’d lost some of the hardness.

  “A woman to share my life and lots of children. Boys to hunt with and girls to fuss over me.” He pinched his chin thoughtfully. “When the time is right, I’d like to return to my village with others who are willing, and rebuild what’s been destroyed. Perhaps, I’ll plant some grapes and produce a fine, German Falerian.” A weak smile emerging, he took a sip of his wine. “It would be a welcome change to mead, and perhaps make me rich too?”

  Chayna winced at the mention of children, but managed to respond, “They are good things to wish for.”

  Guntram cleared his throat. “There is another matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “I see.” Chayna’s eyebrows lifted.

  “It’s the Emperor’s birthday in three days, and, as you know, there will be a holiday throughout the Empire.”

  “Yes,” Chayna said. “It’ll be a day of great celebration, and trade will be good.”

  Guntram seemed to catch his breath. She shuffled her feet, a little nervous.

  “The ludus is granting us a day free from training, and I wondered if you would like to spend that day with me? We could leave the city for a while.”

  “You mean just the two of us?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  “Are...are you sure?”

  “The choice is yours,” Guntram said, looking uncomfortable. “You don’t have to say yes...I would not want that.”

  “I never thought you would ask such a thing.” Chayna’s teeth flashed into a smile. “It would be my first whole day away from the inn, and it would be so strange!”

  “If your answer is no, out with it,” Guntram pressed. “I’ve no hold over you.”

  “No! I, I mean yes! It would please me very much to spend a day with you, but surely Fagus wouldn’t allow it?”

  “If it could be arranged?”

  “Oh yes! Yes! You’re not teasing me are you?”

  “No, I’m not,” he said. “And don’t worry about Fagus -

  I’ll make it worth his while.”

  Chayna’s smile spread even wider, her eyes glinting like a child’s on getting a new toy. She rose swiftly and moved around the table, close to him. One hand placed firmly at the back of his neck and coaxing his face towards her, she kissed him softly on the lips.

  “So, we’ll meet in three days time beyond the Vesuvius Gate, where the aqueduct enters the town, near the necropolis.” Red-faced, Guntram managed to blurt out. “Do you know it?”

  “I know it well. And I’ll wear my new dress, and bring a basket of food and something to drink.” She could hardly contain her joy. “It’ll be wonderful!”

  “Fagus will speak with the guards at the gate,” Guntram said, “so you won’t have any trouble leaving the city.” Seemingly lost for further words, he drained his cup and stood up. Bidding her a quick good-night, he made his way to the entrance.

  Chayna watched him turn around at the street and she waved. He half-raised his hand in return. Then he was gone.

  She continued to wave, not sure if she was dreaming. With her heart still racing, she touched her fingers to her lips, to the place where the taste of the kiss still lingered.

  * * *

  Chapter XXI

  REDEMPTION

  “Love is the breath that sustains us.”

  Publius Syrus

  She headed northwards from the city’s main crossroads, hurrying past places she’d known since a child. Thrilled, Chayna barely noticed the brightly coloured walls of familiar shops with their food stalls and fabric displays, the quaint flower gardens, splendid temples and busy bath houses. The day was bright but cool, and people were already beginning to fill their pots and jars at the city’s water fountains, and all around her the first pillars of cooking smoke drifted upwards above the rooftops into a clear sky.

  Chayna approached the Vesuvius Gate, noting the slight ground swell where the great aqueduct passed under the city wall. Entering the gate-way, she identified herself to the guards on duty, and unhindered, she passed through into a sacred area free from the clutter of buildings in respect to the numerous stone deities located there. She proceeded into the Necropolis, weaving her way through the tombs, where parcels of food and bunches of wild flowers littered many of the graves, and statues shaped from white marble followed her with dead eyes. A warm gust of wind sent a squall of leaves dancing around her, prickling the bare bottoms of her legs. She pictured a waiting Guntram, smiled, and then quickened her pace.

  There were few travellers on the dirt road she followed north from the Necropolis. It ran straight towards the great mountain, through fields and olive groves separated by a network of irrigation ditches and low stone walls. Directly ahead of her a distinctive figure rose to his feet and waved from under the shade of a plane tree.

  “We’ve picked a good day to get out of the city,” Guntram greeted as she approached.

  “It’s a beautiful day, and I’ve brought some food and something to drink,” she began. “Fagus won’t miss it, and if he does, I don’t think he’ll grumble. You’ve made quite an impression on him.” Grinning wickedly, she indicated the large straw basket cradled under one arm.

  Guntram responded with a smile, and then added after a moment. “The dress is...” He appeared to tussle with the words. “A good choice.”

  Her raven hair was tied back with a ribbon the same blood-red colour as the dress, and the compliment reminded her of what her mother used to say – that the colour favoured the complexion of her people.

  “Thank you, I bought it with the money you gave-”

  “Shall we follow the road to the mountain?” Guntram cut in.

  “Yes,” she said, knowing how he felt about her master.

  “The view is good, and there will be more shade,” he told her. “And we’ll catch the sea-breeze if the day turns hot.”

  She fell into step at his side, quickening her small stride to match his own.

  An hour’s steady walk brought them onto the mid-slopes of the mountain, where lush vegetation was replaced by a cover of cypress and pine. Silent, they sat down beneath the trees’ cool shade, enjoying the magnificent view. The ascent had been tough, without any stops, and Chayna breathed hard, licking the beads of sweat from her top lip.

  Without a word Guntram left her side to forage around in the nearby undergrowth. He returned shortly afterwards with two handfuls of berries, which they eagerly consumed.

  “The climb is not as hard as people think,” Guntram teased.

  “Not for you maybe!” Chayna said brightly. “But the view is worth it.”

  She suddenly pointed. “There! See the path of the great aqueduct!” Her outstretched arm traced the thread of the water-channel as it left the town, fleeing the city
walls to move underground in long branching channels. “It’s said to be the longest aqueduct in the Empire, greater than the one that serves the city of Rome itself!” she exclaimed, excited. “My mother told me that it spans the plains of Campania, supplying fresh water to all the towns on the bay. Isn’t it wonderful Guntram?”

  Guntram slowly nodded his head in acknowledgement.

  Chayna switched her attention to the wide arc of the bay.

  After a moment, she identified the Misenum headland with its scatter of small islands, and in the near distance the Island of Capri. Rumour had it that the island was a retreat for emperors, as well as a more permanent home for those incurring the Emperor’s wrath. She spotted small fishing boats plying their trade on the plane of the bay, and further out, broad bellied grain ships from Egypt making headway for southern ports. Out beyond it all, spanning the far horizon, was a fine line where the sea’s deep blue met the paler shade of the sky.

  A breeze was picking up from the north–west, and its coolness brushed her cheek. She looked at Pompeii far below, imagining the wind funnelling through its narrow streets, stirring the canopies of shops and bars and ruffling the leaves of the tall plane trees near the amphitheatre. She turned to Guntram, smiling. His face was very grave and she asked, “You look so serious. What are you thinking?”

  “Has there been a man in your life?” He fired the question at her.

  Surprised by his sudden frankness, she enquired, “Why do you ask such a thing?”

  “I see you’re unhappy to speak of it, then.”

  Chayna paused, recognising his wounded look, and then replied, “I’ve not given my heart to any man.” Her face flushed hotly, and she delved into her basket, eager to elude the scrutiny of his gaze. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I’ve brought fresh bread, olives and some cheese. I’m afraid there’s only water to drink.”

  “A gladiator is always hungry,” replied Guntram, smiling again.

  The simple meal was consumed in silence before Chayna spoke. “I’ve always enjoyed learning about the lives of people in other lands.” Her eyes sparkled as she summoned the courage to ask, “Would you tell me about your people Guntram?”

  Guntram scratched his cheek, as if weighing up her request.

  “My people are warriors, born of warriors.” His eyes assumed a distant aspect as he spoke. “Our enemies say we are a people who love the way of the sword. Perhaps the many wars fought amongst ourselves and against outsiders have made us this way? Maybe it’s because we value our freedom above all else?”

  “What are your women like?” Chayna eagerly asked.

  “They are tall and strong, and their word is valued in counsel. Some have a special gift for seeing the future and are respected for it. To falsely shame one of our women is to suffer death.”

  “Have you known many women?” she enquired, smiling coyly.

  “As the son of a war-chief it wasn’t unusual for women to seek my company,” he replied casually. “Our women give their affections freely, and I’ve never been with a woman who wasn’t more than willing.”

  “And what about marriage?”

  “German women bond with one partner for the whole of their lives and infidelity is punished harshly.”

  Encouraged by his openness, Chayna ventured, “Can I ask you a question about the ludus?”

  “If you wish.”

  “Is it true that the schools regularly supply slave women for their men to use as they wish?”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “For some women it is a thirst that they eagerly quench, and do not complain. Others come because they have no choice, and a few are not treated...” He frowned, moving on. “There are noblewomen too, who come to satisfy their desire for gladiator flesh.”

  “Truly?” Chayna queried, shocked. “The wives of our noble masters lie with gladiators?”

  “Truly, yes,” Guntram began, and then after with a sneer. “They keep them like apes on a chain – for entertainment. And when they tire of them, or when their husbands suspect there is some truth in the whispers – a gladiator muted with a hot iron fights just as well.”

  Chayna raised her clenched fists to her mouth.

  “To sleep with women against their will or with those rich enough to pay has never been to my taste,” said Guntram, “and never will.”

  “I am glad,” Chayna responded, unable to keep the relief out of her voice.

  Guntram smiled briefly in return, before enquiring. “You say your father was a Judean. What became of him?”

  Her voice was sad when she answered. “One day he was returning from the Great Temple in Jerusalem, and was caught up in trouble involving the Zealots and the soldiers of our Roman rulers.”

  “Zealots?” queried Guntram.

  “Rebels who’ve sworn to free our land at any price. They are fighters.”

  “I like the sound of these Zealots.” Guntram grunted his approval. “Go on...”

  “Years later, when I was old enough to understand, my mother told me that my father was struck on the head by a soldier and arrested. That night my mother received news that he’d died of his injuries in the Roman prison.” Tears welled to her eyes, the retelling painful. “Friends brought my father’s body home for burial, and he’d been tortured badly. My mother cried, remembering...the only time I ever saw her cry.” She swallowed hard. “The soldiers arrested her shortly afterwards, saying that she was the wife of a rebel against Rome, and found guilty, she was transported here and sold at auction. She never saw our home again...and the rest you know.”

  “No wonder you were sickened when you discovered what I did...when you saw...” proffered Guntram.

  “I didn’t know you then. Never knew that you took no pleasure from it...that you only pretended for the crowd.”

  “It seems we share a hatred of Rome,” Guntram stated, his mouth tightly set.

  “I don’t hate Rome, Guntram,” Chayna’s denial poured out, “because it would only wither me inside. I place my trust in Jehovah and he gives me the strength to go on.”

  “Who is Jehovah?” Guntram asked.

  “He is my God...the living, true God.”

  “Is he strong?”

  “Yes, he’s strong, and his love for us is strong too,” Chayna replied, her face alight. “We are his chosen people and he will never forsake us. A day will come when he will send us a Messiah, a saviour who’ll free us from the yoke of Rome. This is what my people believe...What I believe.”

  She saw that Guntram was frowning again. “What do you believe in?” she asked.

  “Freedom and just revenge,” he spat out the words. “Freedom for myself and my people, and revenge against the Roman dog who ordered the death of my family and village.”

  “And how will you get your revenge?”

  There was a strained pause.

  Guntram’s face was like stone. So much bitterness, she thought, and in one so young.

  “When I win my freedom, I will find this Roman who wronged me, and I will make him tell me what he knows about the whereabouts of my brother and friend who were taken from my village. If they are slaves I will buy them back. Or free them. Then return with them to my home and join with my brothers who remain free.” His eyes were pitiless, his words cold, like dead fish when he vowed, “Rome will pay in blood for the lives it has taken.”

  “Guntram, blood cannot cleanse blood.” Chayna placed her hand on his. “Please don’t let this thing eat you away. On such a path, how will you know when to stop? How much blood will be enough?”

  “My family was raped and butchered, and then burnt like cattle.” She felt his fist clench under her fingers. “The memory of what Rome did never leaves me. I see the bright blood, hear the screams and smell the sweet stench of roasting flesh like swine on the spit. I picture the face of the Roman who ordered it, and I know what I must do. Chayna, these things are carved into my soul and cannot be put aside like old clothes. Peace for me will only come when this man is dead and Germania is
free of all that is Roman.”

  Chayna flinched as she listened. Can’t you understand, she thought, that revenge cannot be eaten like bread to ease hunger. That it’s like the small fish that play in the shallows – the harder you try to catch them the further they swim away.

  “Still, you’ve talked about other fine hopes for the future,” she reminded him.

  “Those things are important to me,” he confirmed, some of the anger leaving his face. “I also dream that one day my people will be united in a single, strong nation – no longer splintered and weak. Dreaming of this alone won’t make it happen, and I intend to play my part. Afterwards, there will be a time for family, for rebuilding and the discovery of new things in a free land.”

  “And what of your brother?”

  “I think about him often, and pray that no harm has come to him. But, he is only a boy, and far away. And I am still a slave.”

  Plucking up her courage, Chayna asked what she suspected, “Is the other you seek a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” Meeting his look, she forced out the words. “Do you love her very much?”

  He spoke into the hush. “I’ll not deceive you. This woman was special to me, and I’ve sworn to try to find her. Yet, I’m not the man I was a year ago.” He thumbed his eye- brow, looking uncomfortable. “My path has shaped me into something different, and my feelings for this woman are different too, and it’s something that I’m beleaguered by. I know that here, with you, feels good...feels right for me.” He gave a great sigh. “There is nothing more I can say.”

  “I want you to know, too, that I’ve never felt as happy as I do now,” Chayna said, blushing. Seeing the frown lift from his brow, she added, “And I pray that one day you’ll find those you seek.”

  “It will not be an easy task,” he said, “as so much time has passed and the Empire is vast.”

  “There is hope, Guntram, always hope.”