by Jane Finnis
“Right,” Bessus said, dismounting. “Come on, you two, if we’re quick we can catch the bastards.”
“Now don’t be too hasty,” Marsus began, getting down more slowly. “We don’t know how many there is. It needs thinking about….”
“No time,” Bessus answered, already heading into the trees. “Come on!”
“Wait.” Titch jumped down and threw me the reins. “Bessus, it could be a trap. To split us up, like. One of us better stay with the mistress. I’ll go with Bessus, Marsus can stay here. If you need us back again quick, Mistress, just whistle.”
It made good sense, and we three adults unquestioningly did what he suggested. That boy will be a general, I thought, as he and Bessus set off at a run into the trees. Marsus, probably much relieved, grasped his cudgel firmly and stood by the mules’ heads.
There was a narrow track into the wood heading in roughly the direction of the screams, but even so the two figures were lost to sight before they’d gone ten paces. Another scream shook the air. Bessus yelled “Hold on there, we’re coming!” and then the trample of their footsteps faded out and suddenly it felt very lonely.
An owl hooted close by, and another answered it from a distance. A few leaves rustled in the faint night breeze. Apart from that all I could hear was my own heartbeat, fast and loud.
But soon we caught the sound of returning footfalls, and saw figures emerging from among the trees. One…two…three of them, moving fast. Only as they came to the road we realised that none of them were Bessus or Titch.
Marsus thumped the nearest mule hard, and I cracked the whip, but two of the men leapt forward to seize their heads, so all the animals could do was rear up and kick. Marsus swung round to face the attackers and got in one good blow with his cudgel, but they all had swords, and they disarmed him easily enough. I put two fingers into my mouth and whistled as if my life depended on it. Which I suppose it did.
The tallest man snapped “Quiet, you stupid bitch,” and grabbing my wrists, pulled me roughly out of the carriage. One of his companions produced some rope and bound my hands behind my back. They tied Marsus’ hands too.
That’s something, I thought. They could have killed us already but they haven’t. They must want us alive—for now, anyway. And maybe Bessus and Titch have heard my whistle. I must play for time.
Then the leader said, “Right, boys. Kill them.”
Marsus let out a cry. I didn’t. To this day I’m proud that I didn’t, because believe me I wanted to.
The other two men moved, but not towards us; it was the mules and the two horses they were after. They slit the poor beasts’ throats so skilfully that they hardly had time to make a sound.
Would it be our turn next? My mouth was dry. But I couldn’t just stand there and say nothing.
“That was a cruel thing to do, as well as a stupid waste,” I said. “Those were valuable animals. I’d have paid you good money to leave them alone.”
The leader spat in my face. “We don’t want your money. You Romans think money buys everything, don’t you? But we don’t want anything from a stupid Roman slag. The animals are a sacrifice, an offering to the god of the woods.”
“Well I hope he appreciates it! If you don’t want money, what do you want? And who are you?”
“We’re the Shadow-men, and as for what we want, you’ll know soon enough. When the Chief gets here, you’ll be told. Till then, keep your mouth shut.”
“The Chief? The Shadow of Death, would that be?”
He leaned towards me for a heartbeat, staring into my eyes, his face twisted with hate. “If I had my way, Aurelia Marcella, you’d be dead already.” I could feel his hatred, radiating out of him like heat from a brazier. It was a horrible sensation, being the target of such loathing from somebody who didn’t even know me; all he knew was that I was a Roman, and that was enough to make him want to kill me.
But wait—he did know me, or at least my name. Gods, that meant these men had lain in wait for me—me personally, not just any Roman traveller who happened along. Why? Because I had Quintus Antonius as a guest at the mansio? Or because I’d just attended a secret meeting to make plans for destroying their war-band?
I felt slightly sick, as I leaned against the carriage side, watching his two companions wiping their swords clean. When they’d done that, all three of them stood silently watching us and now and then glancing down the road. One muttered “I wish he’d hurry,” but the others were as mute as the trees.
I looked at them carefully; I didn’t know any of them, but I felt I must try to memorise their appearance in as much detail as I could, to recognise them later. If there was a later….No, concentrate, Aurelia. Quintus Antonius will expect a detailed description.
The thought of Quintus calmed me down, and I surveyed the men like an officer learning the faces of a new cohort. They were typical natives, tall and square in build, dressed in drab homespun cloaks, but with good leather boots and sword-belts. Even without blue paint or armour, they had the bearing of fighting men.
The biggest one, the leader, had fair straight hair and beard, and a slanting scar on his right cheek, starting just below the eye. The next biggest had fair hair but a reddish beard, and he’d had his nose broken at some time in the past. The smallest was a head shorter than the other two, and he had regular features and exceptionally fair hair, almost white, and red eyes—an albino. I stared at each one in turn, but they didn’t meet my eyes.
Time dragged on. Where were the others? Had they heard my whistle, and could they do anything about it, two against three? I felt sure they would try. Unless they’d been caught too….It was almost dark by now; the stars were showing, and a thin sliver of moon, very low in the sky. And I was scared—no, not scared, completely terrified. But I wasn’t going to give these barbarians the satisfaction of seeing it.
“You won’t get away with this,” I said. Hardly very original, but I was pleased to find my voice was steady. “I’m supposed to be back at the Oak Tree by dark. When my people realise I’m missing, they’ll comb the woods till they find us. They’ll bring the hunting-dogs….”
“I told you, be quiet,” Scar-face snapped, and he slapped my face, hard enough to make my head ring and my eyes water.
“Don’t mess up the merchandise, sunshine,” I managed to say. “Your Chief won’t be at all pleased if you deliver him damaged goods.”
It was an arrow in the dark, but just for a heartbeat they looked shifty, almost scared. So the Shadow of Death wanted me alive and unharmed. Better not think about what he might want to do with me.
Then from the trees we heard trampling noises. My heart lifted, Bessus and Titch, at last! But out of the gloom came two more natives, dragging Bessus. His face was bleeding, and he was still struggling and trying to kick, but he couldn’t make any real impression against his captors, who were taller, and built like wrestlers. These were more men I didn’t recognise; one was dark-haired, with a black beard, and the other had long brown hair and small dark eyes.
And that left only Titch free. I sent a quick prayer to Diana that the boy wouldn’t try any crazy heroics; his job now was to stay free, watch what happened to us, and get help. Perhaps in the near-dark our captors hadn’t even noticed him. I would try and distract attention.
“Well isn’t this cosy? Now you’ve rounded us all up, would somebody mind telling me what it’s all about? You, perhaps?” I looked at the leader.
He slapped me again, and one of his men muttered “Go easy, Veric,” and got a venomous curse in return. The two new arrivals tied Bessus’ hands and pushed him up against the carriage, and he and Marsus and I stood there helpless, like beasts waiting for slaughter.
More time went by, and I could see our captors’ growing restlessness; they peered into the dark along the road, and shifted about, and exchanged glances. The owl hooted again, but otherwise the whole shadowy world was still.
And then, clear and shrill, we all heard a bugle. A cavalry bugle, calling “
Rally,” the notes echoing through the woods.
By the gods! Titch! But surely he couldn’t pull off the same trick twice?
Our captors started and looked alarmed, glancing along the road. Veric turned on the white-haired man, and swore at him savagely. “I thought you said the road was clear,” he snarled.
“It was clear! Not a man or a beast….”
“Well it’s not clear now, is it? That’s a cavalry bugle blowing, if I’m not mistaken!”
“I tell you it was clear,” the small man stubbornly repeated. “We’ve been stood about so long, there’s been time for the whole ninth legion to march over from Eburacum. Where’s the Chief? We ought to be getting out of here.”
“How should I know, you stupid….”
“Calm down, Veric, they won’t catch us,” the broken-nosed man put in. “Just get the prisoners into these trees, then all the cavalry in the world can gallop about till they drop, and still never make contact.”
“That’s true.” Veric laughed nastily. “Once the Shadow-men hide you, you stay hid. And you needn’t look so pleased, you silly tart,” he added, turning on me. “Something’s coming that’ll wipe that smile off your face for good.” I’d been trying to look extremely pleased, as one would when expecting the army to come thundering to the rescue. I knew it was only one small boy, but they didn’t.
“We’ve got some cavalry staying at the mansio,” I improvised. “Ten of them. They’ve been hunting these woods today. Sounds as if they’ll be here any time.”
As if on cue, the bugle came again, and nearer. Not too close, Titch, I thought; just scare them, don’t let them catch you. You’re our only hope now.
“Let’s go then,” Veric barked. “Into the trees with them. Acco, stay here and watch, and mind you keep out of sight. Usual signal if we’ve got company.”
“We’re not going anywhere.” I wanted to spin things out, get a little more time for help to come, if there was any chance of it. “You’d better go though, Veric or whoever you are. Once the military get here, you’re dead. Run for it now, while you can. Otherwise….”
“Shut it!” Veric was really angry now. He drew his knife and for a heartbeat I thought he meant to stab me, but instead he grabbed my cloak, and wrenching it off me, he cut a long thin piece of the green cloth and gagged me with it. I tried to bite him, and I must have hurt his hand because I drew blood, but he didn’t seem to notice. The cloth tasted foul, and I could have kicked myself for being too reckless.
They started dragging us up the narrow path into the trees. We all struggled, twisted and kicked, trying to move slowly and make as much din as we could. In the end they all drew knives and pushed us forward with knife-points pricking into our necks. The track grew narrower and veered left. It was almost pitch black in the trees, but the men clearly knew their way, and urged us on in silence.
We moved slowly, but with every step we took my heart sank lower. I knew that in only a dozen paces we were hidden from the road; a few more twists and turns and we’d be lost for good in the trees. Titch would make it home to the Oak Tree if he was careful, and bring a search party out, but by then we’d be long gone, and nobody would ever find us. They would see the dead animals and the raeda, and even perhaps make out our footmarks for a short way, but following our trail any distance would be impossible in the dark. Maybe it’d be feasible tomorrow, for a good tracker like Hawk…but it would be too late by then. I felt despair closing in on me, as thick as the black trees.
Then Titch’s bugle called again. But no, wait! Even in my despair I realised the sound was coming from a completely different direction this time. Yet that was impossible, my ears must be playing tricks, deceived by the thick trees. There it came again—three short blasts, repeated several times. And that wasn’t Titch, it couldn’t be! Even at a fast run, he couldn’t have covered such a distance on foot. Gods alive, could it be real cavalry after all?
The sudden hope was almost too much to bear. Supposing Junius and Marius, riding back towards the Oak Tree….Holy Diana, I prayed, let it be them! But how could I attract their attention? They’d never find us without some help; they’d gallop by in the darkness. All the natives had to do was keep us quiet and hidden here. I wanted to call out, but I couldn’t. How stupid I’d been, to get myself gagged! Just when I needed to be able to yell for help….
But the slaves still weren’t gagged, and Bessus suddenly gave a piercing whistle, and then a loud yell. “Help! This way! Help here….They’re taking us off the road….” It ended in a horrible stifled gurgling noise as one of the natives cut his throat. But it was enough. It was enough!
“We’re coming!” came an answering yell; the nearer bugle blew again, and now I could hear horses’ hooves on the road, faint but getting louder as they cantered closer.
Veric swore. “They’ll see the animals. Leave these here and scatter!” He shouted the last word, then he turned back to me and, as he released me, gave me one final hard blow across the face. “I’ll be back for you soon,” he growled, and then he began to run, following his men who had disappeared already.
I hardly heard him, because I was listening to shouts and hoofbeats, as down the dark track from the road came four men on horseback, and one boy, running.
It took forever to get home, because we had to go at walking pace. We only had four horses between eight of us, counting Bessus, because of course we would not leave his body behind for the barbarians to molest in the night. We tied him onto one horse, and Junius insisted that I ride another. To be honest I was glad to; now it was all over, my legs felt as weak as wax.
Junius helped me mount. “Are you all right, Aurelia? You’ve had a bad shock.”
I wanted to answer, “Oh yes, we’re tough as old boots, us innkeepers,” but that hardly seemed gracious. “Fine, thanks to you and Marius. And young Titch too, of course.”
As we plodded along, Junius explained how they’d returned to the mansio to find Albia very worried because I hadn’t come home. “She insisted someone came out to find you. And the fellow that was hurt, Valerius Longinus, was on the point of setting off to search. Well that was silly, given the state he’s in. So out we came without even stopping for a drink. And we could easily have missed you still, if it wasn’t for this young fellow.” Junius put a hand on Titch’s shoulder. “You did well, soldier.” Titch grinned hugely at the compliment.
At last we turned down the familiar Oak Tree track, and as we entered the bar-room everyone stood up and cheered. The customers and our servants came crowding round us, full of questions and congratulations. The soldiers went straight to the bar, Titch with them, and I heard Albia call out “Drinks on the house!” before she rushed up and flung her arms round me, laughing and crying at once. Next she embraced Junius, and they dissolved into a babble of explanations.
Marsus came over and said, “Am I allowed in here, Mistress?” The bar-room is normally off-limits to the farm slaves.
“You are tonight. Drink a toast or two to Bessus. He was a brave man, and he saved our lives. You were good friends, weren’t you?”
“We were brothers.”
“Brothers? I didn’t know that!”
“No, well, we kept it quiet when we were being sold off at the Eburacum market. Folk often don’t fancy buying two brothers. They say they can be troublemakers. But I’m glad I was with him….” He looked on the edge of tears. “He always was too reckless.”
“Not reckless, brave,” I said. “Go and drink to his courage. We’ll give him a good funeral tomorrow.”
And then Quintus Antonius came up and gently took my hand. “I’m so sorry, Aurelia,” he spoke quietly, under all the noise of celebration. “This is all because of me, I’m afraid. Are you all right?”
“I’ll survive. Tough as old boots, us innkeepers.”
“You were right, you know.”
“I’m always right. It’s a well-known fact.”
He didn’t smile. “You said that if you helped me, it woul
d put you in danger. And that’s the very last thing I want. Tomorrow I’ll move on, find another base to operate from.”
“No.” Shaken though I was, I knew for certain that the one thing I didn’t want was for him to leave. “I promised to help, and I will. After all, as Silvanius is always saying, we Romans must stand together. Look, I’ve got a bar full of thirsty drinkers to see to. Let’s talk later.”
Predictably, the night developed into a party. Titch was hailed as the hero of the hour, and everyone fed him so much beer that I eventually took him to one side and reminded him gently of the great Julius Caesar’s views on drunkenness, and he went happily off to his bed. The tribunes and their men were celebrating too, but Marsus slipped away after a couple of beakers.
I myself was more upset than I cared to admit, and it took all my willpower to join in the jollity with a cheerful face and a smile for everyone. Wine might have helped, but I wanted to keep a clear head, so I made do with a couple of beakers till eventually the last of the local customers were safely on their way home.
I had one more task before I could relax. I called all our people into the bar-room, house servants and field-hands, everyone. I arranged for a rota of men, the two troopers and Hippon, to take turns on night-watch outside the main door. Then I told them all how important it was that we stayed alert and on guard against the Shadow-men, and the particular danger to travellers. Finally I made a point of how brave everyone had been on the road tonight. I praised Titch’s resourcefulness, and Bessus’ heroic call for help, which had cost his life. “I’m proud of you all, and Lucius will be too, when he hears about it,” I finished.
They actually cheered me, and then dispersed, and as they moved off, Quintus came out of a far dark corner where he’d been sitting unnoticed.
“A good speech. You should be a general.”
“But I’m not, am I? I’m just a civilian, caught in the middle of someone else’s war, when all I want to do is get on with running a peaceful guest-house.”
He looked at me intently. “It’s not surprising you’re upset.”