by Nick Brown
Cassius could indeed see it, and the many motionless shapes scattered across it. ‘The battlefield.’
‘Don’t suppose you can spare us any food?’ asked the leader.
At a nod from his mount, Simo opened one of the saddlebags.
‘Has the war begun then?’ asked Cassius.
‘Don’t think so. All a bit hush-hush. Arranged very quick. Stupid move, if you ask me. We all know the Twenty-Second have been here for years.’
Simo handed over a packet of dried meat.
‘Much obliged.’
The man with the head injury seemed keen to leave and was first to his feet.
‘Any chance we’ll make it by nightfall?’ asked the leader.
‘Unlikely,’ answered Cassius. ‘I suggest sheltering somewhere in the forest overnight, then make a run for the river. Avoid settlements.’
‘Will do.’ The leader took charge of his injured compatriot once more. The third man stood up, eyes bulging with anxiety as he wrung his hands.
‘Come, Anatole. Follow me.’
‘Back,’ whispered the soldier. ‘Back across the river.’
‘That’s right.’
With a last nod, the leader and his comrade set off for the trees. Anatole lurched after them, mumbling to himself.
‘They’ll be lucky to make it back at all moving at that speed,’ said Indavara.
‘Sir?’ said Enca, one eye still on the battlefield.
The scout had evidently come to the same conclusion as Cassius. If there were injured soldiers from the Twenty-Second Legion down there, they might have much better information than the clothier in Divora could provide.
‘We’ll approach carefully. If there’s nothing of interest, we continue on to the village.’
‘By the Lord,’ said Simo when they reached the battlefield.
This had clearly not been a brief skirmish. An area of grass at least a quarter-mile wide had been almost entirely flattened and upon it lay dozens of dead horses and men. There was no obvious path but a clear route between two stands of trees from which the infantry of the Twenty-Second Legion had launched their ambush.
One horse was struggling to get up, a javelin sticking out of its flank. The iron stench of blood was everywhere and the air seemed heavy with some strange energy; the aftermath of the lethal clash.
‘I’ll finish it off,’ muttered Indavara, drawing his sword as he walked towards the horse.
Their own mounts – the usually implacable Patch included – were unsettled by the smell and the anguished animal.
‘I’ll tether them,’ said Simo, gathering up the reins.
Cassius and Enca walked into the middle of the battlefield, soon encountering a terribly injured cavalryman who had been sliced open at the stomach. Cassius forced himself not to look a second time at the wound. The soldier was unable to speak and simply raised his hand. Enca knelt beside him and gave him some water from a nearby canteen.
This was not the only abandoned piece of equipment. There were numerous saddles and packs as well as shields, helmets, daggers, swords and spears.
Though he could hear the whimpering of some other casualty, Cassius focused on the legionaries of the Twenty-Second. If he could find an officer, they might know something about the abduction of General Dolabella. It was a longshot; but then so was the clothier in Divora.
Within minutes, he had lost all enthusiasm for the search. He had not seen such a scene for a long time and the sight of so many dead inevitably reminded him of his first assignment as a Roman officer; the defence of a fort in Syria.
Turning around, he saw Simo treating a casualty and Indavara grabbing the reins of another panicked horse. Enca had spied something and now pointed his superior towards it. Cassius saw a man lying with his head on a shield and reached him at the same time as the scout. The stricken legionary’s mail-shirt had been partly torn away, revealing a tunic sleeve emblazoned with a double red ring. This was an optio of the Twenty-Second Legion.
Young considering his rank, the soldier had been wounded twice. Across his knee was a nasty slice that was leaking profusely but would not kill him. The blow that had gone through his mail-shirt had cut horizontally down the left side of his chest. The damage was obscured by his tunic and arm. His hand was pressed against the wound but blood continued to flow.
‘Lean back as far as you can,’ advised Enca, adjusting the shield under the soldier’s head.
‘Are there others alive?’ asked the man through gritted teeth. ‘Others from the Twenty-Second?’
Cassius shook his head.
‘Otomagus,’ added the optio. ‘That’s the closest town. Take me there and I’ll give you three gold aurei. As an officer of Rome, I pledge it.’
Simo had arrived and now knelt on the other side of the injured man.
Cassius caught Enca’s eye. ‘Keep looking. Officers especially.’
With a hesitant nod, the scout moved away.
Simo examined the wound, causing the soldier to squeeze his eyes shut, jaw shuddering at the pain.
‘I don’t think it’s deep enough to damage anything vital. I can clean it and try to staunch the bleeding. Then we might be able to stitch it.’
Simo flicked blood off his fingers and looked up at his master expectantly.
‘What’s your name?’ asked Cassius.
‘Optio Vibius Modius Stolo.’
‘For obvious reasons, I shall get to the point. I need information. Do you know anything about a plot to abduct one of Aurelian’s generals from Lavona? A man named Volosus might be involved – an agent working on the orders of Tetricus.’
‘Who are you?’ asked the optio.
‘An interested party. Just answer the question.’
Simo moved aside the tunic cloth to access the wound.
‘Leave it.’
The attendant’s protest was predictable but Cassius cut it off. ‘I said leave it. The sooner Stolo gives me a straight answer, the sooner we can help him.’
The optio spoke with a snarl. ‘You’re lucky I’m not on my feet. What’s a stuck-up prick like you doing out here anyway?’
‘If you want help, I suggest you concentrate. The abduction was carried out by an agent with a very large bodyguard, an attendant and two women, one said to be quite a beauty.’
‘I’ve no idea about any bloody plot – we were just ordered to intercept the cavalry.’
‘Think carefully,’ said Cassius calmly.
Stolo sucked in several deep breaths and put his hand against the wound again. ‘The woman. One of our auxiliary scouts was telling everyone about some tasty piece he saw in a carriage. Don’t know where. Don’t know who she was with.’
‘When was this?’
‘Few days ago.’
Indavara arrived and looked down at Stolo.
‘Sir, please,’ said Simo, clearly emboldened by his friend’s presence. ‘May I treat him?’
Indavara did not intervene, which Cassius put down to the events of the previous day.
‘And the name Volosus means nothing to you? General Dolabella?’
Stolo shook his head. ‘Never heard of them.’
‘Who was your commanding officer? And is he here?’
‘Last thing I saw, Durmius was driving off the cavalry. Senior centurion.’
Cassius nodded and gestured for Simo to treat him. The attendant recruited Indavara and Cassius moved on to continue his search. He felt only a little discomfort at such ignoble tactics; as he had learned during his time with the Service, one often had to do what was necessary for the greater good.
After several minutes of searching, he spied a centurion’s crest. The officer was dead, face down in mud where two other infantrymen had perished. Like the others, he had no pack with him and was lightly-equipped. Cassius did however remove a leather bag from his belt. He had just opened it when Enca approached.
‘Sir, they must have stashed their gear close by before the ambush. If we can find them, there might be somet
hing of use.’
‘Agreed. We’ll check the trees but we can’t tarry too long. What do you have there?’
In Enca’s hand was a sheet of good quality paper. ‘A map. I’ve seen many of its type before. Produced by Clemens’s cartographers. It shows Otomagus and the other settlements on the west side of the river.’
‘Nothing on the current location of the Twenty-Second?’
‘No, sir.’
Leaving Simo to treat the optio, Cassius summoned Indavara and the three of them carried out a brief search of the surrounding area. They found two separate groups of packs but it soon became clear that someone had beaten them to the find. Many of the packs had been turned out. There was little money and only food, clothing and military equipment had been left behind.
‘Brigands?’ suggested Indavara when the trio reunited close to Simo and Stolo.
‘Or local thieves,’ said Enca.
‘Must have moved quickly,’ replied the bodyguard. ‘This can only have happened an hour or two ago.’
Cassius said, ‘They’ll sometimes shadow a large force if an engagement seems likely. Pick the place clean. In any case, we can’t waste any more time here.’
He marched over to Simo, who seemed to have at least stopped the bleeding.
‘What happened to the first man?’ he asked.
‘He passed away, sir.’
Cassius addressed Stolo. ‘If we get you in the saddle, can you make it to Otomagus?’
‘Looks like I’ll have to.’
‘Sir, that wound must be stitched.’
‘We haven’t the time.’
‘Can I at least bandage it?’ asked Simo.
‘Be quick.’
Cassius was not the only one startled when a pheasant flew up, flapping away at a low trajectory. It had come from a small stand of trees set slightly apart from one of the wooded areas from where the legionaries had launched their attack. The stand contained no more than a dozen trees and was thick with dense undergrowth. It was around a hundred feet away.
Indavara was staring in that direction.
‘See something?’
‘Not sure.’
As the bodyguard walked towards the trees, Cassius ordered Enca to fetch the mounts.
‘Yes, sir.’
Cassius watched Simo dress the wound. He tapped his left thumb against the hilt of his sword. More time lost. Even worse, this battle had made his job considerably harder. Now even the local commoners would be on their guard; wary of strangers and spies. With Umbrius’s cavalry routed, it would be wiser to slip back across the river and report the loss. But he and his companions were now the only ones actively seeking Dolabella. He had to keep trying, at least for another day or two.
A shout.
Cassius spun around and saw three figures break from the stand of trees. Indavara was swiftly after them. Cassius followed and whistled to Enca, who saw what was happening and sprang up onto his pony. By the time Cassius reached the trees, Indavara was closing in on what looked like a trio of scared youths. They had dropped several packs already and as the sprinting bodyguard closed in, they abandoned everything that was slowing their escape.
‘Leave them!’ shouted Cassius.
Indavara slowed then stopped. The youths ran for their lives across the grassland without looking back.
Enca pounded past on his mount but Cassius held up a hand.
‘Don’t bother. We have what we need.’
Indavara swiftly collected three packs from the ground. Cassius had already grabbed two others and they swiftly retrieved three more.
‘They gave in easily,’ observed Enca.
‘No more than fourteen or fifteen,’ said Indavara.
‘I’m sure they’ve got a few coins in their pockets,’ said Cassius before pulling a leather case out of one pack which contained a waxed tablet and numerous sheets of paper. ‘But if the gods have favoured us, there may be something here of considerably more value.’
With the injured Stolo upon his mount and headed for Otomagus, the four continued west towards Divora. Cassius had swiftly identified which documents might be of use and was now examining each one in turn. His was a good-natured horse and it walked along calmly enough behind Enca with minimal attention required.
When Simo trotted up beside his master, Cassius was surprised that he did not receive some subtle admonition for his treatment of the injured soldier.
‘Why did you let Stolo leave, sir? Surely, he’s as much a threat as those men in the forest.’
‘Perhaps. Then again, he might not even make it to Otomagus. It also seems rather cruel to despatch a man who has just survived a battle where so many have not. Cruel, even for me.’ Cassius continued to examine a document as he spoke. ‘What a sinful monster I must seem to you.’
‘No, sir, that’s not-’
‘There’s no point going over this ground yet again, Simo. I long for the day when I shall have no part in such affairs and such decisions. Occupy yourself with more direct concerns. Your donkey, for example.’
The attendant turned and realised that Patch had somehow wrapped his tow-rope around a leg. Tutting, he halted his horse and dismounted.
Cassius turned his attention to a waxed tablet.
Enca kept them away from main routes and they approached Divora upon a narrow track. On one side were vineyards, where they spied a few workers; on the other dense woodland. Cassius had spent at least two hours going through the tablets and papers; mostly the familiar day to day records of two optios and one centurion. These included orders, briefing notes, leave requests, medical exemptions, strength returns, lists of weaponry and equipment. Cassius was most interested in the orders and the briefing notes.
‘About two miles to go,’ said Enca as Cassius brought his mount level with the scout’s. With Simo’s help, he had collated all the potentially useful documents and now held them in the leather case upon his saddle.
They had attracted little attention from the vineyard workers but with the village close, Cassius was concerned about their reception. If word of the battle had arrived before them, the locals would be wary.
He needed Enca’s full attention for a while so sent Indavara to the front of their little column with orders to keep a close eye on the territory ahead.
‘I’ve identified a few locations of interest. What can you tell me about the Libio Tower?’
‘A watch tower placed on a hill. More than ten miles away.’
‘Large?
‘No. For three or four men.’
‘Hades’ Cut?’
‘A gorge not far from the Rhone. There is a good well there.’
‘Burvia?’
‘A hamlet. Similar size to the one in the forest.’
‘Remote?’
‘No. On a main road.’
‘Dorogium?’
‘A town with a permanent garrison of one century from the Twenty-Second. On the Nurtium road.’
‘How far?’
‘Around forty miles.’
Cassius gave the scout five more locations and continued his questioning.
Enca seemed surprised that he had not once consulted the papers. ‘Sir, how do you know all these places?’
‘I memorised them.’ Cassius did not consider this much of a feat. Having trained as an orator, he had once recited a speech by Marcus Antonius that ran to eleven pages.
Ahead, the road curved around to the right and into open ground. The angular buildings of Divora could now be seen.
‘Malba?’
‘A muster-point close to a shallow section of the Rhone. A position to defend in the event of-’
‘Forget it. What about Arolaunum?’
‘Another town. Fifty miles north.’
‘Hawkhaven? A local term, I presume.’
‘Yes, though I’m not sure the place is in use.’
‘What is it?’
‘The ancient fortress of Ecthya, situated at the southern end of the Green Mountains. It was used as a
n observation post for a time. Given the current situation, the Twenty-Second might be occupying it again.’
‘Secure?’
‘Very. A column I was with called in there once. There’s a very high lift – it’s the only way in or out.’
‘How far from here?’
‘Around ten miles or so.’
‘And from Lavona?’
‘Between fifteen and twenty.’
‘Good roads? Good enough for a carriage?’
‘I would think so, sir, yes.’
Cassius saw a crossroads up ahead, where Indavara had halted. The road that the track joined was paved and passed through several more vineyards before reaching Divora. Lost in thought, Cassius considered what he had learned and only spoke again when they had all reached at the crossroads.
‘Whoever has Dolabella, they would need to get far enough away from Lavona to be safe but also a secure location to interrogate him.’ Cassius nodded towards the papers in his hand. ‘One of the optios was ordered to deliver provisions to Hawkhaven only a few weeks, ago so it’s clearly occupied. There doesn’t seem to be a more suitable location in the area.’
‘Unless they took him to the Twenty-Second itself and Prefect Clemens.’
‘Possible; but I was told of a grain man who has conducted similar operations in the past. You’re sure you’ve not heard of Volosus, Enca?’
‘No, sir, though agents often use false names.’
‘Indeed, they do. And they are often no great friends of the legions, and eager to keep their operations to themselves. More glory for them.’
Cassius and Indavara exchanged a knowing nod.
‘You think the general is at this fortress?’ asked the bodyguard.
Enca spoke up: ‘Sir, even if he is, the place is virtually impregnable.’
‘Well then,’ said Cassius, ‘I suppose our enemies will feel very safe.’
XIV
Volosus unfolded the little roll of paper and read it. Despite their diminutive size, the words sent an icy shiver into him and swiftly ignited a headache. He screwed the paper into a ball and threw it over the side of the platform. Wind whipping at him, he marched away down the steps.
‘Bad news, sir?’ said Manilia