‘Really?’ He thought about that for a minute. ‘How interesting. What colour do they change to?’
‘Dark amber. They get darker. Shhh, look. Something’s happening.’
He turned his attention back to the village, and we watched as two druids helped an old woman out of her hut. They placed her onto a litter and carried her over to the pit.
‘What is going on?’ I asked, but Plexis only shrugged.
The old woman got to her feet and leaned over the edge of the pit. She reached down, and I saw Paul’s bright head. To me it looked as if they were shaking hands. I frowned. ‘An odd place for an introduction,’ I murmured.
Then the old woman tottered back to the litter and was carried back to her hut. She disappeared through the doorway and Plexis and I stared at each other, baffled.
‘Your eyes change colour too,’ he informed me, after an hour had gone by and nothing of interest happened in the village.
‘Oh? From what to what?’
‘From ice blue to frosty blue.’ He was looking mischievous.
‘Oh, ha-ha. Can we please think of a plan to help them?’
‘Well, I have thought of a couple.’
‘You have? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I wanted to make sure. I’ve been watching for a few days, and I’m pretty sure of one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘We’re not alone in the forest. There are several other groups scattered around. I’m even certain that others are watching the village besides us. The only problem is, I’m not sure if the others are “good guys” or “bad guys”, as you say. I don’t know who they are or why they’re here. I can only guess. The first option is that they are on our side, which means enemies of this tribe, coming to attack. The second is friends of the village, either looking for us, or keeping a permanent, secret watch for enemies.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘We find out who and where they are. And what they’re doing.’
‘How?’
‘Well, you’re not going to like this … I go off to spy, you stay here – and whatever you do, don’t move before I get back. If I don’t get back by noon tomorrow, you make a tough decision. Either you go straight to the village and give yourself up, or you abandon the others and you go back to Orce.’
‘You’re right, I don’t like it. Can’t you think of something else?’ I asked.
‘No. Do you have any ideas?’
I’d given it a lot of thought. ‘Well, the pit is in the middle of the village, but it doesn’t seem to be heavily guarded. There are a couple of men in the village who are not druids. They must be slaves. They chop wood and carry water. Otherwise, the village is made up of children and woman. I did wonder if they were the druids’ wives and children – but I don’t think so. They seem frightened of the druids. In the evening, everyone gathers in the middle longhouse to eat dinner. I was thinking we could sneak down quickly while they eat. It’s the only time the guards aren’t at their posts.’
‘No. The problem is the view. You can see from here that there is an open space that leads to the pit from the standing stones. It’s a ceremonial walkway. Everyone can see the pit from the village, which is why it’s not guarded. And, besides, I suspect there are lookouts we haven’t spotted.’
‘What about at night, when everyone is asleep?’
‘There are sentries posted around the village, and there are only two of us. And I’m in no condition to fight.’
‘So you think you’d better see who the others are, those who are spying on the village too?’
‘And hope they can help us, yes.’
‘When do you think the ceremony will take place?’
‘I think, in four days.’
‘Great.’ I stared bitterly at the village and at Voltarrix bent over his caldron. ‘If only he’d fall in and boil to death,’ I hissed.
‘I was wondering something,’ said Plexis, frowning.
‘What?’
‘I’ll tell you when I get back. I’d better get going. I have an idea where to look and I want to hurry. Don’t forget to stay put. You have some food in the pouch and water in the flask. I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry.’ He leaned over and kissed me hard on the mouth. For a moment, we held each other. I could feel his heart thumping strongly against my chest. Then he disengaged himself and slid out of the thicket. I didn’t hear a sound. It was as if he’d disappeared into thin air.
I rolled over onto my back and put my hands over my face. If Plexis were right, they were safe for four more days. Then the summer solstice would arrive, and my husband would be killed. His soul would be put into my son’s body, and the druids would have the leader they needed to overthrow Rome. A new world would come into being, one where the Romans had no foothold in Europe, and where the old gods, the druids, and the Celts would rule.
What would that mean to history, I wondered? Would the Romans then concentrate on the Middle East and Africa? Would Africa emerge then as the new power, instead of Europe? Would Roman roads, cities, organization, and laws make Africa a totally different place than the one history knew? How would it affect the spread of Christianity? Would the religion known as Islam never come into being? Would Europe remain in the grip of the bloodthirsty old gods for a long time, slowing the arrival of modern civilization and the discovery of the New World?
The Time-Senders would have a terrible time of it, I decided, trying to unravel the change. They would end up erasing a whole section of time, starting with the years following the death of Alexander and ending with the domination of Rome. That would mean we would all be erased: myself; Paul; and even the people around me. It would be an incredible outpouring of energy and it would cost the Western Hemisphere trillions, but they would do it. They would have to, in order to put Time back on its track. I sighed. The consequences of a successful summer solstice ceremony were serious. Say that tongue-twister ten times, fast!
I rolled over again and watched the village. The sun burned my back. It was very late in the afternoon and still bright. I watched the pit, but no movement could be seen. After lunch everyone napped. Even the guards sat down in the shade of the nearest tree and lay their spears on their knees. A few women wandered over to the stream to draw water then went back to their huts. The sun made their hair flash bright gold in the sun. One woman went to the pit and leaned over it. She asked a question then lowered a bucket of water. So the prisoners were well looked after, at least. When it was hot they were offered water often during the day.
I thought about that for a minute. Then I got up and started to make my way down towards the village. Plexis would probably kill me, but I was tired of waiting. I might as well be killed now, by strangers. Besides, I didn’t think anyone would notice another blonde woman giving water to the prisoners; the guards hadn’t even glanced at the scene. I wondered where I could find a bucket. That seemed to be my only problem. That, and nettles.
Chapter Seven
Tall pine trees grew on the cliff, so I had no trouble hiding as I slithered down. However, once at the base I was confronted by a briar patch, and after that, a forest of nettles. The village was surrounded by a massive hedge of these, separating it from the forest.
The brambles were loaded with white blossoms promising a heavy crop of blackberries later that fall. The villagers must come often to pick them, because I found narrow paths in the bramble thicket. Carefully, I pushed back the prickly branches and managed to pass through, losing only a handful of hair and getting scratches on my arms, legs, and face. The brambles were thick but not impenetrable. The nettles, on the other hand, were a daunting, stinging barrier. I thought maybe I could bend them aside and creep through. I didn’t know much about nettles.
I sat in the shade of a giant bramble bush, sucking my sore hand, wondering if the stinging would subside enough so that I could start breathing again. Tears leaked from my eyes. The nettles were two and three metres high, bright green, and covered with deceptively sof
t-looking leaves. I needed a machete to get through, thick gloves, and long pants-none of which I had. No, wait. I had an antique bronze sword which had belonged to Plexis’s grandfather. I could use that to cut a tunnel through the nettles. I turned around and wormed my way out of the brambles. The sword was on top of the cliff -of course.
A long while later, my arms covered with painful welts, my face drenched with sweat, and with blood trickling from various scrapes and scratches, I had managed to cut a narrow passage through the nettles. I crawled on my hands and knees, keeping low and disturbing the plants as little as possible. I’d discovered the stems were just as painful as the leaves, and nettles stung right down to their very roots. Their roots were deeply embedded and they grew in clumps. I tried to uproot them, but hundreds of plants shared the same root system.
It was getting late. Exhausted, I rested on my stomach trying to quell the urge to scream. I wasn’t sure what to do. I ended up wriggling out of the nettles back to where I’d started. I sat under a bramble bush and tried to catch my breath. It was not quite a failure. I’d cut a tunnel nearly all the way through the bloody nettles, and I could finish tonight while the village slept.
With that thought in mind, I turned around and bumped into a man.
Immediately, a hand clamped over my mouth and a voice hissed in my ear, ‘It’s me, Demos. What in Demeter’s name are you doing?’
Demos! My joy and relief made me giddy. I nearly laughed aloud. I turned and gave him a hug. Not easy in the middle of a briar patch. ‘I’m going to go to the village tomorrow to give some water to the prisoners; no one will notice. I’ll tell Alexander we’re here and planning on rescuing him.’ I whispered.
‘You don’t think he already knows that? Why risk your life to tell him something he already knows? Think, woman! If you get caught, they’ll know we’re out here and come searching for us. Now follow me and be quiet. Here, give me that sword. Plexis is going to kill you.’
‘I hope he won’t kill me too painfully.’ I started to joke, but stopped when I saw his expression. ‘Why should he kill me? All I did was go down the hill when he told me to stay put.’
‘He won’t kill you for disobeying him, he’ll kill you for using his sword to cut plants. By Ares’ wrath, he’ll probably chop your head off for that.’
‘Cute,’ I muttered. ‘You try and make a joke and you get your head bitten off.’
‘Or he’ll bite your head off.’ Demos grinned.
Clambering as silently as possible, I followed him back up the steep cliff. I was mortified to see that Demos, despite his large size, could move almost as quietly as Plexis. And as quickly. He reached down, grabbed my wrist and hoisted me up the last five feet to our hiding place. We crawled into the deep thicket and I slumped to the ground, sprawling on the moss. I was filthy, my mouth was parched, and I thought I’d probably die from the nettle stings. Demos gave me the goatskin flask I’d left behind. The water was warm and smelled of goat, but it was divine. I drank and drank, pausing only long enough to gasp for breath.
When I’d finished drinking, Demos eyed me and smiled. ‘Plexis won’t kill you. He’ll think you’ve been punished enough.’
I shuddered. Nettle stings had left huge welts all over my body, and my face was so swollen that I could hardly see. The pain was pretty much constant, and now, far from the village, I finally gave in to the hurt and started to sniffle.
Demos patted my shoulder, making me wince. ‘Tch, tch. It’s not that bad. Besides, I think you have the right idea, but the wrong reason. We don’t crawl into the village to help them drink – we sneak in to help them escape. Plexis had the best idea.’
‘He did? You saw him? Where is he?’ I asked.
‘Shhh. He’s around. Probably with the others; but I think we’ll stay here for now. It’s safer.’
‘What others?’ I was agitated. ‘But, but … may I take a bath? The stream isn’t too far away.’
‘No, no bath. Sorry. The others … oh, didn’t I tell you? Axiom came, and he brought an army.’
I just stared. Finally his words sank in. ‘An army?’
‘Well … a small army,’ said Demos carefully.
‘A small army?’ I repeated, stunned.
‘A very, very small army. But it’s better than nothing.’ He grinned, showing gap teeth, and spread his hands, showing nine fingers. He had almost as many battle scars as Alexander.
‘But, how, I mean where did he find them? Where did they come from?’
‘Oh, I’m sure you can think of the answer to that yourself.’
I frowned in thought. Finally, I guessed. ‘The villagers from Orce? And Roman soldiers from the trading boats?’
His broad grin answered my question. ‘And Phaleria,’ he said. ‘She insisted on coming. Titte, Kell, and Vix came along too. She left two crewmembers behind to watch the boat.’
‘The boat is all right?’
‘No, not her boat. The dragon boat sank it. It’s a good thing Iskander told her to unload all her goods before she led them out to sea.’
My head was spinning. Too much sun, pain, and relief were making me dizzy. Demos was here, and so was Axiom and a small army. ‘But how did you convince the Romans to come?’
‘Well, they’re not exactly fighting for free. We had to pay them, for sure. They’re mercenaries, hired by the boat captains to protect the cargo. But, for a price, they will follow us. I bet they were getting bored. They can’t wait to storm into the village and rape and pillage.’
‘That’s not very nice,’ I said, thinking of the people I’d been watching for days. ‘Can’t you tell them to just rape and pillage the druids?’
Demos looked at me incredulously. ‘Rape and pillage druids? Do you think that mercenaries are going to fight for the right to do that?’
‘No,’ I said dryly, ‘they’re fighting for pay. You tell them that the first one who rapes or pillages doesn’t get paid. Is that perfectly clear?’
Demos raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ll tell you what; you tell them. All right?’
‘All right,’ I said smugly. I spoke Latin. I’d show him. Huh.
I imagine I made quite a sight, standing in front of the Roman mercenaries telling them they mustn’t rape or pillage. I spoke in my best Latin, a language I’d painstakingly learned in school. I had made good grades, so I expected to be understood.
‘Excuse me,’ said one, pointing his finger in the air. ‘Excuse me, I say. What are you telling us? That we can’t have any fun?’
I’d gotten through to one. Good. I smiled brightly. ‘That’s right. You’ll get paid richly. You don’t have to rape anyone.’
‘What if I ask first?’ The soldier was frowning. Obviously he hadn’t quite caught on. I sighed. Part of the problem was the accent. In my school, no one was really sure how ancient Romans had sounded when they talked; and they used a lot of slang. The soldiers in front of me spoke several different dialects and none of them was in my schoolbook.
‘You don’t ask if you can rape someone – you just don’t do it, that’s all.’ I said patiently.
I didn’t think I was reaching them. Another part of the problem was my appearance: nettle rash and scratches covered arms and legs; my face was still swollen; and dirt caked me from head to foot. As I spoke, I plucked a stray nettle leaf from my tangled hair. I flinched, swore, and sucked my fingers. The soldiers were impressed.
Demos had told them that I was the daughter of the goddess Demeter. Consequently, the Romans were in awe of me. They had never seen a real goddess, so my appearance didn’t shock them too much – they thought I was in disguise.
The villagers from Orce, who’d also come for the rescue, were with Plexis and Axiom getting a crash course on warfare, while I was in charge of the Roman mercenaries. It was not an easy task. I sighed and started again.
‘Now listen, guys, there’s to be no stealing, no killing children, no raping women and, if you can manage, take prisoners, and try to kill as few as possible.
/> ‘Ahh! Slaves!’ cried one soldier. ‘Now we understand. You need slaves, so we keep them alive. You know,’ he continued, lowering his voice, ‘if we castrate them right away they’re much more docile.’
I shuddered. We were getting nowhere. I wondered how Plexis was getting on with his students. Apparently, Plexis was having as much trouble as I was.
‘Watch out!’ A scream came from the thicket behind us and the soldiers, professionals, threw themselves flat on the ground. An arrow whizzed over my head and thunked into the tree behind me, missing me by inches. The bushes parted and a man peeked through.
‘Uh, sorry about that,’ he said sheepishly, trotting over and retrieving the arrow from the tree. ‘I’m having difficulty aiming this thing.’
The fact the arrow didn’t hit me convinced the soldiers I was divine, which was fine by me. They listened with rare concentration as, one more time, we went over the tactics of not killing. And they mostly agreed about the rape part, although one soldier insisted he would ask first, and if the girl said ‘yes’, well …
I wished I could see Axiom and Plexis, but since they’d arrived we’d been put into groups and scattered throughout the forest. I had insisted on lecturing the Romans, so I was with Demos. He sat with his back to a large pine tree, watching me with a huge grin on his face.
When I thought they had the gist of my demands, I dismissed the soldiers and sat down wearily next to Demos. ‘Do you think I can go for a wash in the stream now?’ I asked him.
He glanced at me and then shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not, but I’m staying right here, and so are the soldiers.’
I nodded happily – a bath, at last.
The stream was about hip-deep, and surrounded with moss-covered rocks and ten Roman soldiers standing guard. Mindful of their rape fantasies, I took a bath with my tunic on. Well, it needed washing anyway. I scrubbed my hair, my face, my clothes, and my body with handfuls of soft sand from the bottom of the stream. When I rinsed the sand away, I felt much better. The cold water soothed my nettle rash, and I’d managed to rub most of the grime out of my hair. My tunic was pretty much ruined though. I squeezed the water from it and looked at it ruefully. It was knee length, not sweeping the ground, and practical for walking through the forest. I loved its deep green colour, another reason for wearing it in the forest, and the dye, being of the best quality, hadn’t faded. However, the cloth had suffered: thorns had torn it; branches had ripped it; and a rent had nearly removed one sleeve. Underneath, I wore a light cotton sleeveless shift I’d bought in Egypt. It had been pearly pink but was now oyster shell-grey.
The Soul of Time Page 7