Beasts Beyond the Wall

by Beasts Beyond the Wall (retail) (epub)

  ‘Later we will talk,’ he added, swiftly, as if trying to get the words out before anyone noticed.

  And that was it. Women and young girls appeared and showed them benches at a table. Food was brought – meat enough to make the mouth water.

  ‘Well,’ Quintus said with his big grin, ‘we landed on our feet.’

  ‘Did you see her?’ Ugo demanded.

  ‘Of course, you arse – we all saw her,’ Kag spat back. ‘What of it?’

  ‘A high-born, for sure. And that boy…’

  A high-born, for sure, Drust thought. Here, in a stick and wattle hut at the uttermost reaches of the Land of Darkness. Somehow, he had imagined everything would be made clear when he saw her, but the opposite was true, it seemed.

  ‘Nothing to do but eat and get ready,’ Quintus declared.

  ‘Get ready for what?’ demanded Sib suspiciously, food halfway to his mouth and appetite suddenly gone.

  ‘If it had been my people,’ Ugo mused, ‘our heads would be on poles.’

  ‘Your people?’ Kag scathed. ‘You are as far removed from that as anyone here. For all you know, your people are now as decent Romans as any in Apulia.’

  ‘I saw heads on poles,’ Quintus said mildly, which stopped everyone mid-chew. He looked round them and grinned his big grin. ‘On the way in. Above the main gate. Old ones. New ones, too.’

  ‘They take heads?’ Sib demanded, looking at Drust, who bridled.

  ‘I have told you before – I know little of these people. Ask Dog.’

  ‘Dog,’ Kag said. ‘What about that whoreson? That face…’

  No one spoke while the noise of the hall growled round them. Drust felt like a rabbit eating clover in a grove of wolves – but he chewed and swallowed all the same. Always take food where and when you can get it was one of Kag’s many sayings – if the food is good enough, folk stop complaining about the incoming arrows.

  Another, he reminded them now, was checking a strange house for the exits you might need in a running hurry.

  There were none they could see but the one they’d come in and a lot of hefty armed men in leather and wary looks between them and it. So they sat and ate their fill, while their conversation fell mute as the hall’s roaring grew.

  Not long after, some of the big men came and made it clear they were to move, herding them into the shadows where long benches curved along the wall, benches as wide as two men. There were skins that made it apparent this was where they would sleep; around them, others were settling for the night and, somewhere close by, there was the panting mewling of love in the dark. On the other side, a baby fretted and voices were raised in complaint until hushed.

  ‘Not so different from an insula in Subura,’ Quintus said. ‘The walls in mine – you could spit barley through them.’

  ‘The woman,’ Kag said in Drust’s ear, sidling close and ignoring Quintus. ‘What of the woman and her child? Who the fuck is she? No slave, for sure.’

  ‘We will find out,’ Drust said, ‘when Dog decides.’

  ‘We have put ourselves in his power,’ Ugo growled, close enough to hear this. ‘We should have fought.’

  ‘And died for sure,’ Sib spat back. ‘No missus here, German.’

  They sank into dark silence, huddled like a herd and keyed to every sound. In the end, one voice startled them all awake into the fetid dark.

  ‘Walk with me,’ said Dog. Drust stared for a moment, then heard a rustle and saw Kag shove his face into the dim light.

  ‘Just Drust,’ Dog said quietly, and Kag scowled.

  ‘Fuck you, Dog. You want to kill us, do it all together.’

  ‘If I wanted you dead, you would be dead. And I am Colm now. Colm Deathface. Remember it.’

  Drust laid a quieting hand on Kag’s trembling arm, then slid off the bench and followed Dog out through the grunts and whimpers and snores, out beyond the pit fire and almost to the barred front doors where their breath smoked. They squatted and Drust waited, saying nothing; in the dim light, with a shaft of winter moon falling through the top of the doors, Dog’s face grew luminous, eldritch. It seemed to float.

  ‘What happened to Manius?’ Dog asked eventually and Drust told him. Dog grunted.

  ‘I saw him do that trick,’ he said. ‘No way to end up, melted like candle wax.’

  ‘You never liked him,’ Drust pointed out. Somewhere close, a small creature scuttered.

  ‘He broke my fucking leg,’ Dog replied sullenly and Drust shrugged.

  ‘We all had a hand in that. Orders. Make you stop doing something stupid with a woman – was it the same one as now?’

  ‘It was. You put her in danger, because I was supposed to flit her out of Rome quietly. When I didn’t turn up she went to Gaul with just the boy, leaving a trail a blind man could follow. I got to her almost too late – didn’t give enough time even for the leg to heal properly. This cold weather reminds me of that daily.’

  ‘Who is she?’ Drust demanded.

  ‘Julia Soaemias Bassiana, first daughter of Julia Maesa and Gaius Julius Avitus Alexianus, sister of Julia Avita Mamaea, niece of Julia Domna.’

  ‘Verrecunda said there was Julia,’ Drust muttered, his mind reeling with names. ‘Couple too many for me.’

  ‘What happened to her?’ Dog demanded and Drust looked at him.

  ‘Manius,’ he replied flatly. ‘Necthan too. What happened to Brigus?’

  Dog waved one hand. ‘Spotted him right off, within days of coming here. Verrecunda was an informer – used to be a power in her day – and he was one of the State’s little spies, sent out when the Army arrived.’

  He stopped, shook a bitter skull at the dark. ‘No one had bothered with the north before that, not for years, but old Severus was coming back so they sent out a lot of men like Brigus. He found Julia Soaemias and the boy at Verrecunda’s place – they had to stay while Necthan did my face. They all knew the danger they were in, so Necthan did for him and I took his place. Everyone thinks Brigus is still out here, doing his job. He’s in a hole under bracken, so lonely even foxes won’t find him.’

  ‘So who is she, this Julia? Apart from some high-born with a nice arse.’

  ‘You noticed? She is lush, has to be said. Sol Invictus expects no less from a priestess. Work it out, Drust – you are the brains of your Procuratores. Her mother is sister to the Empress, so Julia Domna is her aunt. Which means?’

  Drust got to it in a moment that blew light from heel to crown. She was the niece, by marriage, to the Emperor Lucius Septimius Severus.

  ‘What are you doing with her? And the boy?’

  ‘Rescuing her,’ Dog answered. ‘Her husband arranged it with our old boss, Servilius Structus, who arranged it with Julius Yahya. I suspect someone else put the husband up to it, for he was never noted for fidelity nor clever.’

  ‘Her husband?’

  ‘Sextus Varius Marcellus from Apamea – old Syrian nobility. He’s a senator in Rome and if you saw him you’d know the boy was not his. The boy is called Varius and he is the chosen of the Sun God. He is high priest at Emesa and as such can call on a deal of support in the East if he wishes.’

  ‘If he wishes? He is… what? Eight?’

  Dog nodded. ‘He is as good as an emperor there, so there are those in Rome who would not want that. Especially if old Severus dies, which is more and more likely – have you seen him?’

  ‘Not recently,’ Drust replied drily. ‘The invitation must have been mislaid.’

  Dog leaned his face closer and Drust resisted the impulse to draw back.

  ‘If he does – when he does – there will be blood,’ he said. ‘The Hood and his brother will fight it out.’

  ‘No contest,’ Drust replied. ‘The Hood will win. Geta isn’t clever or ruthless enough.’

  ‘His mother is.’

  Drust blinked at that. ‘She is mother to them both.’

  ‘Favours Geta. The Hood knows it – well, who better than a mother to know the twisted flaws of her own so
ns, eh? Geta might be an idiot, but he’s less… dark… than his brother. His father knows that, too.’

  Drust waved a bewildered hand. ‘What are you in all this? This is politics so high you get a nosebleed just considering it. What the fuck are you doing in it?’

  Dog’s hand went to the amulet. ‘You remember Emesa? We went there to put on a show.’

  Drust tried and failed. ‘Another sand, another town.’

  ‘It was just after…’

  He stopped, but Drust knew. After Calvinus, after Dog had killed his pair-brother. Well, you were of the harena, the sand, and not supposed to have friends. But you did, because you were men and even Dog lost his snarl from time to time. Lost his mind, it seemed, after killing Calvinus. Drust said not one word on it, simply nodded for Dog to go on.

  ‘Well, Julius Yahya arranged the show in Emesa and it was on behalf of the Bassianii, so I learned about them and the Temple of the Sun. Went there, saw her, saw the boy – he was barely toddling but solemnly performing all the rites as high priest. It’s handed down, you see…’

  ‘So – where does this get us?’ Drust demanded. ‘Apart from you finding redemption or peace and a new neck ornament.’

  ‘You have no idea,’ Dog spat back. ‘That boy is Helios come to this world…’

  ‘Well, tell him to brighten up this place. It is fucking cold and dark, Dog. Is this why you sprang to the rescue like Horatius? You made a child your god?’

  Dog waved a dismissive hand. ‘You believe in what you believe – which is nothing much, far as I can tell. Why do you do what you do, Drust? I never fully worked that out.’

  Me neither, Drust thought – which was mostly a lie to himself. Because he had to cling to something, some little belief that there was hope in the world. He could see Dog’s magic boy as the same, yet he wanted him to be wrong and savaged him for it.

  ‘I am glad for you,’ he said dismissively. ‘If you laid Calvinus in the tomb, well done to you – though it seemed to all of us that you did not. Joining Bulla’s band of robbers, crossing Servilius Structus…’

  ‘Do not mention Calvinus.’

  Drust flung up an exasperated hand. ‘We all lost people we liked – Quintus watched Supremus die, remember? There were others – it’s what we are. If you need to drown it in wine or choke it with incense, then fine – but your sun-bathing has dragged all your bunkmates to this place, Dog, so it is a little more than just washing yourself some peace of mind in holy smoke.’

  Dog smiled and touched Drust’s arm. ‘You love them,’ he said simply and laughed, not scornfully, but full of wonder. Drust pulled his arm away, scowling.

  ‘Julius Yahya came to me when it became clear the boy and his mother had to be got out of Rome, for their own safety,’ Dog said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Who knows? Perhaps Servilius Structus is at the back of it, or even the old Severan himself – they fear for Geta, the Empress even more than him. Julia Domna wants no competition – and neither does her sister. The pair of them are hewn from the same stone, so getting rid of a son or daughter is a necessary sacrifice for whatever it is they see for Rome. A perfect, golden youth with the whole of the eastern provinces at his beck and call?’

  ‘The Empress wants her own niece dead? The sister would join her in murdering her own daughter. And the boy, too?’

  ‘They plan on doing away with a son and nephew and anyone else who stands to threaten Geta, apple of their eye. The Hood, of course, has plans of his own.’

  He waved one hand. ‘This is not nosebleed politics on the Hill. This is what they whisper in Subura. If – when – old Severus has coins on his eyes it will get bloody, and I hear you are somewhere on Caracalla’s list. The word is out that The Hood seeks a harena fighter who kicked his balls up into his throat.’

  Drust blew out his cheeks with thinking, formed the tiles of it into the mosaic and Dog waited quietly while he did.

  ‘The husband, this senator,’ Drust said, ‘arranged all this with Julius Yahya, or so you say. Servilius Structus thought he was doing me – us – all a favour by sending us out of Rome. He didn’t know about all this at all, I am sure of that.’

  ‘He is the Emperor’s man,’ Dog said. ‘Couldn’t be trusted. He knew only that The Hood was taking too much of an interest and wanted to save his Procuratores.’

  ‘So why is Julius Yahya now sending us to get her and the boy back?’

  Dog laughed softly. ‘Brigus arranged that. Sent word to fetch some picked men to come and rescue the lady from the clutches of beasts beyond the last wall before the Land of Darkness.’

  Drust took a breath or two. ‘You did it. You sent for us. By name.’

  ‘Tegisti acu,’ Dog declared admiringly. ‘That nail is particularly well struck on the head. When I fled from Gaul with them – two steps ahead of some seriously armed men – I came here. Safest place, I thought. I can come home – well, sort of. Who knew the Emperor would want one last military adventure and turn his idle-buggering sons out of Rome to make men of them? Now the place is crawling with State. It is only a matter of time before they hear of a Roman woman and her son, held prisoner by savages. They may already know.’

  ‘Your idiot plan didn’t work on any level,’ Drust said, seeing it. ‘Got your face made into something that fell off a tomb on the Appian and turned up with two Romans only to find you weren’t all that welcome with your supposed “own people”. Should have gone east, back to Emesa – at least it would have been warmer there.’

  Dog growled warningly. ‘My idiot plan came out of necessity after you broke bones that stopped me doing the better one. I barely managed to save Julia Soaemias and her son in Gaul. Closer to here than where I had originally planned to go.’

  ‘Back to Emesa,’ Drust grunted, and was surprised when Dog shook his head vehemently.

  ‘More danger in that – people would have seen it as… provocative. They would either be dead or rebelling by now. Besides, there are those in that part of the world who can be easily bribed to kill. I wanted to take them out of the Empire, all the way to Parthia.’

  ‘No one likes Romans there,’ Drust pointed out, and Dog nodded bitterly.

  ‘Nor here.’

  ‘I saw the shackles,’ Drust answered. ‘And we are here, whispering in secret. You are as much a prisoner as we are.’

  Dog shifted and gave a grunt of acceptance. ‘Partly.’

  ‘Which part is that? The one that won’t let us collect our gear and mules and walk away?’

  ‘The part that won’t let you walk south,’ Dog admitted. ‘We walk north instead.’

  ‘North? We?’

  ‘Listen closely,’ Dog said, his voice hoarse and his breath like moonlit smoke. ‘You know how warlords are made here?’

  Drust remembered Verrecunda and nodded. Dog let out a longer, fetid breath.

  ‘Talorc is just the current mouthpiece of all the warriors. He has no power and wants it. There is a woman who can give it, daughter of the last queen. When she comes of age, she can be wed and Talorc wants that to be him.’

  ‘And you?’ Drust scathed. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Daughter of the last queen,’ Dog repeated. ‘Are you dim? Who was the last queen here?’

  It smacked Drust like a douse of iced water. His mother. The last queen had been Dog’s mother.

  Dog saw it and nodded. ‘My sister. She will have thirteen summers on her in a month. She was a scrap when my mother and I were sold – someone at least took pity on a babe.’

  ‘So – fight this Talorc for her. You can kill him – unless all the old skills have gone.’

  ‘And do what? Marry her?’

  Drust had no answer that would not be an insult and so stayed silent.

  ‘The problem is that the Bull People to the north have her. Taken in a raid. When she bleeds for the first time, she’ll be given to the Bull on his island.’

  ‘The Bull on his island?’

  Dog growled. ‘Some fucki
ng war chief with a horned hat – but Talorc has promised them something better in exchange.’

  ‘The woman and her son.’

  ‘Tegisti acu one more time – you have won a villa in Apulia and an ox to plough it with.’

  ‘You sent for us to rescue this woman?’

  ‘My sister, Beatha.’

  Drust waved a dismissing, angry hand. ‘You never knew of her – have you even seen her? Who said she was taken in a raid – the same fuckers who did for you and your mother?’

  Dog shook his head. ‘Not Beatha – Talorc had designs there and still has. Perhaps he sold me and ma, but he was no more than a youth then, with no voice and little to say with it in any council – but what does it matter now? It was done. Now what matters is that, if we get… my sister… then Talorc will give us Julia Soaemias and Varius. Then we can all get out of here.’

  ‘To where?’ Drust demanded bitterly. ‘You arranged for us to come here just so you could use us for this. There is no rescue – so no reward. No citizenships, no silver. How do you think that will go down with Kag? The others?’

  ‘Julius Yahya’s offer was genuine – have you any idea of the riches the Bassianii command? The Temple of the Sun in Emesa is as golden as it sounds,’ Dog answered. ‘The reward was promised for their safe return to Eboracum. Now there’s one extra woman thrown into the mix. Besides – what alternative is there?’

  Not much, Drust thought bitterly. All those who said this was too good to be true were right. Tegisti acu.

  * * *

  ‘Imperius in imperio,’ Quintus said, then slapped one hand against the other. A power within the power. It was the first time anyone had ever seen him lose the smile. They had talked it over since Drust got back, ignoring the odd growls from the dark shadows, which meant ‘shut up’ in every language. Now the hall was stirring back to life and shutters were opening to spill in the wan dawn.

  ‘Ira furor brevis est,’ Kag answered, then gave Quintus his own grin. ‘Horace. Who was an expert on anger being a brief madness.’

  ‘Fuck Horace,’ Ugo growled. ‘He hasn’t just been done over.’

  ‘Up the arse,’ Sib agreed mournfully.

  ‘Well,’ Kag declared, levering himself off the bench. ‘We can fall no further. Death is the last boundary, as Horace said.’