Dark Age

by James Wilde

  Corvus’ dark eyes flickered across the frozen landscape. He was still thinking about the Attacotti.

  ‘Danger never goes. But we are taking good care,’ Lucanus continued. ‘Enough armed men to repel an attack. Few enough to travel fast. We’ll do our business and be back behind the walls before you know it.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it. This land is not so different from Gaul, but it’s still strange enough.’ The familiar grin brightened his face and he clapped a hand on Lucanus’ shoulder. ‘These are the tales we will tell our children, eh? How we saved Britannia. Two old men hunched around the fire, swilling wine and singing songs of our glory days.’ He paused, thoughtfully. ‘Your child is due soon, yes?’

  Lucanus winced. He wished he was back at Catia’s side, that he need never leave it. Myrrdin watched over her at the House of Wishes now the birth was near, along with some of Amarina’s women to help when the babe came. The gods would decide if she lived or died, but he still felt the worry consuming him.

  ‘Soon enough.’

  ‘I haven’t seen the lady Catia in a while. She is well?’

  ‘She’s got a warrior’s heart. But a house full of drunken men is no place for a woman with child. She’s with the midwives.’

  ‘Ah. Where is that? I’m still getting to know Londinium. Beyond the taverns, of course.’

  Lucanus squinted and peered into the hazy distance. ‘We’re almost at the coast. Let’s ride harder. The sooner we conduct this business, the sooner we can get home.’ He dug in his heels and urged his horse on, leaving Corvus, and his questions, behind.

  The wind off the sea was like knives. The waves crashed on the bleak beach and the gulls mourned for all that had been lost. Lucanus led the way along the icy road to Rutupiae. After a while he could see the grey walls of the Saxon shore fortifications that had been built on both sides of the channel for protection from barbarians attacking by sea. The walls rose up as high as four men standing on each other’s shoulders, and had served their purpose, so far at least.

  ‘This is the point where Claudius’ army landed when Britannia was invaded, so I’m told,’ Corvus said when he once more reached Lucanus’ side.

  ‘You have some learning, then.’

  ‘A man should know what has come before so he can see what might come ahead.’

  Lucanus shrugged. ‘I only know what my father taught me. How to live off the land and use a sword and stay one step ahead of death.’

  ‘That’s good knowledge too.’

  As they neared, they scanned the walls of the fort and saw a few heads looking down at their arrival.

  ‘Barely a third of the men are left,’ Corvus said. ‘We found that out when we arrived. The count of the Saxon shore took the rest off to the north to repel the barbarian advance. That was the last anyone saw of them.’

  ‘As long as there are men still holding the forts along the coast, and messengers to ride between them, it will serve our purpose.’

  Lucanus held up his arm and glanced at his men riding alongside the well-drilled soldiers. He could see their features hardening by the day, but they still showed their inexperience. They would learn. He snapped down his arm and they rode harder towards the gates.

  The fort at Rutupiae protected a sheltered harbour on the muddy estuary. Ships creaked on their moorings and sailors and merchants milled on the quayside. Not many, but enough to give Lucanus hope.

  Once they were inside the fort, the soldiers broke the ice on the troughs so their mounts could drink. The new commander wandered out of the principia to watch them. Lucanus thought he looked barely old enough to carry a sword. The parchment-like skin of his face was still spattered with youthful spots, and his cheeks were flushed as if he were permanently embarrassed. Probably never seen battle, the Wolf thought.

  He introduced himself as Galeo, prefect of the Second Augustan Legion, and then asked with a note of apprehension, ‘Londinium still stands?’

  ‘Of course,’ Corvus said. ‘All is well in the world.’

  Galeo eyed Corvus as if he was insane. ‘Come inside where it’s warm. There’s wine and olives.’

  ‘A man who knows how to provide a good welcome. We’ll be firm friends, I can tell.’ As he walked towards the open door, Corvus looked around at the missing tiles and sagging walls. ‘Seen better days here.’

  ‘We’ve been neglected for too long. Not enough men. No coin to pay for repairs or new blades.’

  ‘I wager there are people regretting that now,’ Corvus said.

  Galeo waved a hand towards the western wall. ‘Used to be a great arch there to celebrate our invasion, a quadrifrons, like the ones in Rome. The height of five men, faced with marble, and decorated with bronze statues. They tore it down. Nothing lasts here,’ he added glumly.

  ‘You sound like a man who needs good company and better wine,’ Corvus replied. ‘Quick now, before we drown in misery.’

  In Galeo’s chamber the coals glowed red. Lucanus pulled up a stool and warmed his bones while the commander poured three cups of wine. Corvus leaned against the wall near the fire, one eyebrow cocked as he looked around the meagre furnishings.

  ‘The barbarians haven’t troubled you?’ Lucanus asked.

  ‘Not as yet,’ the commander replied. ‘Our fortifications along the Saxon shore have daunted them, even though a lot of good men have been lost. Nectaridus, the count of the Saxon shore, led our force towards the battle lines. He has not been heard of since. We’re not fools. We know the barbarians are coming in the spring.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘We die.’

  ‘Well,’ Corvus said, taking the goblet, ‘if that’s the way you think, why not run into the sea and end it all now?’

  ‘Wishes are for children,’ Galeo said. ‘We are few, they are a multitude. We’ll stand up to them when they come, like good Romans, but they’ll sweep us away in the blink of an eye.’

  ‘Any messengers from Gaul? News on when Theodosius the Elder will bring his army to retake Britannia?’ Lucanus asked.

  Galeo shook his head. ‘A dream.’

  ‘You don’t think they’ll come?’

  ‘Valentinian is distracted by the Alamanni and the struggles in Rome among the supporters of the rival popes. If you ask me, he will let Britannia wither away.’

  ‘Never,’ Corvus said. ‘Rome abandoning part of the empire? It will only give the Alamanni and the other tribes fresh hope. If they aren’t stopped here, the barbarians will keep going, perhaps even to the walls of Rome itself.’

  Galeo shrugged, sipped his wine, and stared into the fire. Lucanus thought how drained he looked, like every other soldier he’d encountered since the horde had swept south.

  ‘Even if Theodosius came, could Rome ever put right the devastation that has been wreaked on Britannia?’ he said. ‘If you saw the north, you would believe that this is the start of a new age.’ He looked at his distorted reflection in the surface of the blood-red wine. ‘The season is turning.’

  ‘So much defeatism!’ Corvus drained his cup. ‘Even if Rome abandons Britannia, a new leader will rise up to lead the people into the light.’

  Lucanus eyed the other man. The words could have been spoken by the wood-priest. ‘Why do you say that?’

  Corvus shrugged. ‘Because there is a need. And so it will be filled.’ He looked from one man to the other. ‘It’s an old, old story. Surely you’ve heard it? The great saviour who will return to lead the people back into the light? The followers of the Christ stole it from the cult of Mithras. The cult of Mithras stole it from religions that came before. And so on, back to when man was first made. The story lives on because the people need it, not because the gods decree.’

  Lucanus stiffened. Could this be true? Not a prophecy. Not the word of the gods. Just a story shaped by men?

  ‘Sounds like blasphemy to me,’ Galeo said, eyeing Corvus over the lip of his goblet.

  ‘Ah, a follower of the Christ! You should meet my friend Theodosius
the Younger!’ Corvus shook his empty cup for a refill. ‘Enough of these meanderings. We are here for serious business. Londinium starves. We need your help, and those of all the forts along the Saxon shore.’

  ‘What can we do?’

  ‘Send messengers along the free south. Spread the word. We need supplies. Boats can be brought along the Tamesis from the east. We’ll arrange a place where we can ferry what is delivered into the city.’

  Galeo sighed. ‘Why should any merchants risk their necks trading with a town under siege from that horde of bloodthirsty barbarians?’

  ‘We have no shortage of coin, but we can’t eat that. We need food,’ Lucanus said. ‘We’ll pay handsomely.’

  The commander thought for a moment. ‘It will take a while for word to spread, and longer for trade to be arranged. Can you survive till then?’

  Lucanus looked at Corvus. ‘It will be hard—’

  ‘We’ll have to,’ Corvus interjected. ‘The sooner you get word out, the sooner we can prevent the citizens of Londinium from eating each other.’

  Once the arrangements had been thrashed out, Lucanus and Corvus marched back into the cold afternoon. Flakes of snow whisked in on the icy breeze.

  ‘Another bad night ahead,’ Corvus said, eyeing the bank of clouds. ‘Let’s not tarry here.’

  ‘And let’s hope we’ve done some good. This may be our last chance.’

  ‘You were the one who pushed for it,’ Corvus said as he led the way to where the horses were tethered. ‘Everyone else was too frightened to venture out from the city walls.’

  ‘Not you, though.’

  ‘Luckily my wits are addled.’

  Corvus glanced behind them, as if acknowledging someone following them. Lucanus followed his gaze, but there was no one there. The two men bade a reluctant farewell to the warmth of the barracks and soon they were back on the road to Londinium.

  Corvus pulled his mount up beside the Wolf, checked over his shoulder that he could not be overheard, and whispered, ‘You’re a good man, Lucanus. I can see why you were chosen to lead this army. You’ve got steel in your spine and a fire in your belly, and your men respect you because you’re always there, at the front, putting your own neck on the block for them.’ Corvus paused, looking out at the slate sea. ‘I feel I can trust you, and there are few I can say that about in this world.’

  ‘I believe in fair dealing.’

  Corvus nodded, then bowed his head in reflection. ‘Can I tell you a secret?’

  Lucanus nodded.

  The soldier sucked in a deep breath of the icy air. ‘I am a follower of Mithras.’

  ‘I know enough of those. Or knew, in Vercovicium. Most are dead now.’

  ‘And I’ll probably join them if my friend Theodosius finds out. To believe in something other than the Christ risks a death sentence in these times.’

  ‘Every man should be free to believe what he wants. That was how it used to be. Rome never forced anyone to pray in a different temple.’

  Corvus lifted his head. ‘I carry it around in my heart like a lead weight. Not daring to speak a word of it, not even to my closest friend. If a man can’t be true to what he believes, he’s nothing.’ He watched a gull arc across the granite sky. ‘And you?’

  ‘In the north, things are different. The worship of the Christ hadn’t gained much ground there. Whenever I offer prayers, it’s to the old gods. Like my father, and his father before him.’

  ‘Then you’d be on my friend Theodosius’ list too. We share something here, you and I. A bond. We are men who must do what’s right, despite the risk. I thought you would understand.’

  ‘I do, that’s true.’ He eyed Corvus, the hunched shoulders, the pleasant, open face, and felt that bond. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

  ‘As I knew it would be. It’s good to unburden oneself. These rocks can drag a man down.’ He nodded. ‘I’m proud to call you a friend, Lucanus.’

  ‘And I you.’

  Corvus hesitated, and Lucanus sensed there was more he wanted to say. ‘What is it?’

  ‘This is difficult …’

  ‘Speak.’

  ‘Friend to friend?’

  ‘Aye. That’s what friends do.’

  Corvus pursed his lips for a moment and then seemed to decide to commit himself. ‘Have you noticed any changes in the lady Catia since she returned to you?’

  ‘Changes?’

  ‘Does she still show her love, as she used to before she was taken prisoner?’

  Lucanus felt a chill deep inside him. ‘These are harder times. We all carry burdens—’

  ‘I have no desire to cause you any pain. But a man must face up to the truth early enough to save himself.’

  ‘Is this more of what you told me before we attacked the barbarians?’

  ‘One of my men saw her out with another … no, not one of your Grim Wolves. A man whose hand she held, whose ear she warmed with her breath when she laughed.’ He waved a hand in the air. ‘It could be nothing, of course it could. But I would speak to her, Lucanus. Don’t waste time. Go to her the moment we get back and find out what has changed. There may still be a chance to keep her, or it may be too late, but, as I say, if you act quickly you can at least save yourself.’

  The snow drifted down. Under the lamp of the moon, Londinium was silent. As they tramped up from the river gate, Corvus and Lucanus kept that silence, as they had for much of the journey back from Rutupiae. Throughout that long ride, Corvus had watched the Wolf from the corner of his eye. He’d noted the strained face and the hunched shoulders, the brooding, the worry. His words had struck home.

  As their men trudged away to their beds, Lucanus turned and said, ‘We’ll talk again tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re going to speak with your woman?’

  Lucanus nodded.

  ‘That’s for the best. Good luck.’

  The Wolf bowed his head into the bitter wind towards the north. Corvus watched him go, the solitary figure moving from shadow to light as it traipsed through the circles of brightness under the torches. Before it disappeared from view, another figure separated from the dark of a doorway.

  Bucco the dwarf glanced once at Corvus and nodded. Then he hurried along the trail of footprints, making sure he would not be seen.

  Corvus allowed himself a smile. Soon they’d know where Catia had been hidden, and then the way ahead could be cleared.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Demand

  THE LAMP FLAME guttered. Shadows flickered around the corridor and sparks ignited in Myrrdin’s coal eyes.

  ‘Stand back.’

  Lucanus scowled. ‘You’re refusing to let me see Catia?’

  ‘She needs her sleep. For her sake, and the child’s.’ The wood-priest was standing outside Catia’s door in the House of Wishes. Comitinus was asleep in the warm anteroom, but Mato had ushered him through.

  ‘You have no right—’

  ‘I have every right.’ The druid stamped his staff on the floor for emphasis. ‘I am the child’s protector, as are you. And I can see from your demeanour that you have not come to whisper honeyed words. What is amiss?’

  The wind howled under the eaves, almost drowning out the moans of lovemaking echoing from the other chambers.

  ‘Stand aside.’ Lucanus barrelled down the corridor. As he flexed to toss Myrrdin aside, the wood-priest stabbed his staff forward and with a deft flick between the legs flung Lucanus on to his back.

  Before he could push himself up, the tip of the staff was jammed against his windpipe.

  ‘Once more. What is amiss?’

  Lucanus was reluctant to speak about his worries, but he could see from the druid’s eyes that the question wouldn’t go away. He looked down and muttered, ‘I need to know if she still cares for me.’

  ‘You fool.’ Myrrdin snorted. ‘Britannia is burning around you, and you lose yourself in lovesick imaginings. You are the Pendragon—’

  ‘I did not choose it!’

  The
wood-priest smiled. ‘Nevertheless, it’s your burden. Once you accepted the dragon crown, your old life was gone. You have one duty now. To the people of Britannia and the King Who Will Not Die. Nothing else matters.’

  ‘I will not accept that.’

  ‘You have no choice.’

  ‘All I want is Catia, and the child, and a simple life. No wood-priests or witches, no prophecies, or daemons, or saviours.’

  ‘The man who could have had those things died in the cold waters of that lake in Caledonia. You accepted the sword of the gods. You took the crown. You ate the sacred toad’s-stool. What did you see in Goibniu’s Smithy that night, Wolf?’

  Lucanus felt ice-water rush through him. ‘I visited a great forest where I met an old grey wolf, like the one I killed the night I became one of the Grim Wolves. It spoke to me.’ He shuddered, though he couldn’t remember what had been said. ‘My eyes darkened, and when I looked again its lifeblood was draining away. I heard the sound of wings, and I saw the Morrigan.’

  ‘And after meeting her, do you think the Morrigan will let you return to the man you were?’

  The Wolf slumped back. ‘There’s talk that Catia has been seen with another man.’

  ‘Talk? There’s always talk.’ Myrrdin squatted, balancing with his stick. ‘Hear me now. She has not ventured from this place since you brought her here. And with two of your men guarding her at all hours, do you think she is a witch who can magic herself away to another lover?’

  Lucanus closed his eyes and sighed. He felt a weariness sink deep into his bones.

  ‘You need to rest, Wolf. Tiredness tricks a man’s wits.’ He heard the druid stand, the end of his staff clacking on the floor as he used it for leverage. ‘Worries that you would never have considered before pop up like bubbles in a marsh. Rumours become truth.’

  Lucanus heaved himself to his feet. Perhaps the druid was right. He was too exhausted to think straight.

  Myrrdin tapped his staff on Lucanus’ chest. ‘You do the work of the gods now. Never forget that. Your life is their life. But do it well and you will be well rewarded.’