by Nick Brown
‘One of the guards pulled a knife. He fought well but it was a bad wound.’
‘Gods.’
Indavara looked at the cavalrymen. Quadratus nodded with a weary acceptance. From the others, only shocked silence.
‘Tubertus?’
‘We found him with the other man,’ said Cassius. ‘Quite a mess.’
Indavara continued: ‘That bloody German must have left his axe in there. Chopped his way through the door. They started pulling me back up.’
‘We didn’t dare try and stop it in case you were on the rope.’
‘Good job you didn’t.’
‘I knew you’d make it down. And you disabled the lift too.’
‘So I did.’ Despite what he’d endured, Indavara felt a pang of an old, familiar feeling. Pride.
Cassius clapped him on the shoulder. ‘By the time Volosus reaches the ground, we’ll be long gone.’
Ten minutes later, Bibulus activated the brake and straightened up, puffing hard like Gutha. Beneath the platform, the broken lift swung back and forth in the wind.
‘At least we got it up here,’ said the attendant.
‘Should be able to make a repair fairly quickly,’ added Gutha.
Volosus looked on, now shivering because he was clad only his sleeping tunic. The reality of his situation was at last beginning to sink in. He could not recall a defeat so completely and utterly humiliating.
‘Expect they’ll head for the river,’ said Bibulus. ‘But that old sack of shit will slow them down. We’ll get them, sir. Don’t you worry.’
‘Sir, we must get him to a surgeon. He’s in a bad way.’
Volosus ignored the injured man, who sat beside the other defender with the arrow in his chest. Volosus didn’t care about either of them. Their failures and those of that idiot Manilia had allowed the enemy into the fortress.
He walked up the steps and into the guardroom. He grabbed a lamp and hurried over to the table where Manilia kept his writing equipment. Having swiftly located a pen and some paper, he sat down and wrote quickly – just a few lines for Prefect Clemens. Once finished, he secured the message in a length of reed and ran up the steps to where they kept the birds.
XVII
Dawn offered a shapeless, shimmering sun. Cassius was glad to find the spectres and shades of night replaced by the comforting colours of a summer morning. The pleasant lands of Gaul reminded him of home and he hoped it would not be too ravaged by the impending conflict.
They stopped below an isolated shelf of rock. Though there had been a little moonlight to guide them, travelling at night had been difficult. Even Enca struggled to find his way through the heavily-forested land and Cassius guessed they had travelled only seven or eight miles towards their destination, which meant there was still a similar distance to go. The scout reckoned that heading for Lavona was too risky. The only other realistic alternative was a village called Cravana. Here the Rhone was narrow and a small ferry usually in operation. Even if enemy troops were present, there would be boatmen in the area who might get them across.
Enca and Indavara dismounted first and swiftly set off to ensure that the immediate area was secure. The rest of the cavalrymen attended to the tired horses; and they appeared as exhausted and downhearted as the animals. It was clear that the loss of Iovius continued to affect them. Cassius was glad to see that the injured man, Ocella, seemed to have rallied.
Cassius and Simo helped General Dolabella down. They had made the decision to put him on Patch and the dutiful donkey had born the weight with his usual calm. In the morning light, Cassius now fully appreciated the appalling condition of the abducted officer. His nose had been crushed and his eye was horribly swollen. Cassius and Simo lay him down on a grassy bank and it seemed that – once out of the saddle – he gave up, immediately succumbing to unconsciousness.
‘By the Lord,’ said Simo as he surveyed the general’s two butchered hands.
‘At least the bleeding isn’t too bad.’
Simo carefully removed the temporary bandages he had applied during the night.
‘The salve?’
‘Yes, sir. The vial with the green top.’
Cassius had occasionally assisted Simo with his treatment and swiftly retrieved the vial from the wooden rack within a saddlebag. Examining the bloated, discoloured face of the old man before him, he hoped Dolabella had been telling the truth about not disclosing anything. If true, the man had shown remarkable bravery and endurance to hold out for so long. Cassius just hoped they could get him to safety before nightfall.
Squatting there in the dewy grass, he was surprised when one of the young women dropped down beside him. Cassius had donated cloaks to them both.
‘How is he?’
‘Not good.’
‘Did you say your name is Cassius?’
He turned to her, already aware why she’d made such an impression on the people at Lavona. Even after the events of the night and with several leaves stuck in her hair, she was startlingly beautiful.
‘Er … yes. Cassius Quintius Corbulo. Pleased to make your acquaintance. And you are?’
‘Amarante. She’s Ioanna.’
Ama pointed to the other woman, who was standing below the shelf of rock, arms wrapped tightly around her.
‘You are the soldiers of the emperor Aurelian?’
‘We are.’
‘You’ll take me with you – across the Rhone?’
‘If you want. What about Ioanna?’
‘She might want to stay on this side.’
‘Not you?’
Amarante shook her head. Her dark skin reminded Cassius of the beauties he had seen in Syria and Arabia. Her eyes were a misty pale blue, her nose delicate, her lips full.
Cassius had to drag his gaze away and remind himself of his situation. He helped Simo put a cape over Dolabella’s shoulders. The attendant then listened to the old man’s breath and put a hand against his heart.
‘Fast but steady.’
‘Then we’ll let him rest while he can.’
‘He’s an important man,’ said Amarante. ‘That’s why Volosus was torturing him.’
‘Correct,’ said Cassius.
‘Why didn’t you kill him and the others?’
‘We are soldiers, not barbarians. We do not kill in cold blood if it can be avoided.’
‘Volosus will,’ said Amarante. ‘He’ll do it without a second thought. He is proud. And wicked. He’ll come for us. You should have killed him.’
‘She said that?’
Cassius and Indavara were riding just behind Enca, constantly looking around for signs of danger as the party traversed a grassy field. To their right, the welcome cover of a low ridge, to their left a slope that lower down became water meadow bordering the Rhone.
‘She did,’ replied Cassius.
‘Probably right,’ said Indavara.
‘Let’s just hope that-’
Enca’s arm had just shot up so the pair reined in. Cassius turned back and saw that the five cavalrymen had also halted. Neither of the women could ride but the horses liberated from the Hawkhaven stable were well-trained and didn’t mind being tethered to the cavalrymen’s mounts.
Fimbria adroitly moved his horse against Patch and put out a hand to help Simo with the general. They’d struggled to wake Dolabella up and he’d been unable to eat anything. And even though they’d now used rope to secure him to the saddle, he seemed unable to keep his head up.
‘Corbulo,’ said Indavara. ‘Look.’
Enca trotted his horse forward, staring at a broad stretch of woodland about a mile ahead.
‘What is it?’ asked Amarante. She received no answer but it was already evident to Cassius that she was a wilful young woman. Far from being disturbed by this sudden change in her circumstances, she seemed keen to take advantage.
Enca stopped again, now looking up at the ridge.
The others waited. Only Simo could be heard, encouraging the general; telling him there wasn�
�t far to go. Ioanna’s horse began to misbehave but was calmed quickly by Quadratus. Cassius found himself staring down at a bloom of purple flowers amidst the grass below. With a moment to spare, he recalled the cavalryman’s prayer of the previous night and created his own.
Jupiter, god of gods. I apologise for not visiting a temple; for offering you nothing of late. I pledge to do so as swiftly as I can. We fight for your true emperor, for Lucius Domitius Aurelianus. Watch over us this day. Help us across the river.
Enca at last turned his horse around and rode back to Cassius and Indavara.
‘A man on horseback crossing left to right past the woodland. He’s passed over the ridge now.’
‘Soldier?’ asked Cassius.
‘I think so.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘How he sat, how the horse moved. I can’t be certain but-’
Indavara interjected: ‘If it was a local, they might have retreated to avoid us.’
‘Big if,’ said Cassius. ‘That wood, can we go through it? Useful cover.’
The scout shook his head. ‘Locals call it the Maze. It’s only three or four miles across but very thick with brambles and bushes and all manner of undergrowth. Local legend has it that an ancient king chased a brigand in there and neither man was ever seen again. There’s little light, no easy paths.’
‘So, do we pass it to the left or right?’
‘Left we stay close to the Rhone. Low ground. Muddy.’
‘Right takes us too far east?’
‘Yes, and we would soon strike the river road.’
They had already established that this was the most likely route from which units of the Twenty-Second would approach.
‘We’ll eventually pass close to it anyway,’ added Enca, ‘but by then we’ll almost be in Cravana.’
‘Easy decision then,’ said Cassius.
Enca seemed uncertain.
‘Isn’t it?’ asked Cassius.
‘If that rider was a scout; if there are troops on the other side of the Maze, our only route of escape will be back across the low ground. Could be very slow. Difficult.’
Cassius just wanted to get to the river as soon as possible. Dolabella’s condition also had to be considered.
He glanced up at the sun, still blurred by a yellow haze. ‘That’s a risk we have to take. We’ll grab the first vessel we find – even if it’s a rowing boat.’
By skirting the Maze, they were forced ever closer to the river and into the water meadows that so concerned Enca. It took them almost an hour to clear this tricky area, by which time most of the horses were blowing. Though Dolabella stayed awake, the task of keeping him in his saddle became so onerous that Simo and the cavalrymen took it in shifts. Both women had to be assisted and poor Ioanna actually fell from her mount. Thankfully, the soft ground prevented any injury.
To Cassius, the real torment was the river itself. They had closed to within a quarter-mile of the tranquil water and the far bank looked invitingly peaceful. He hadn’t seen a single vessel or anyone else for that matter and remarked on the fact as Enca called a halt below a broad oak tree.
‘Odd, sir, I agree. There’s not much farmland here but I’d expect to see a few shepherds or fisherman. We’ll learn more at Cravana but it may simply be that the locals heard of the battle. They may be in hiding, worried that the war has started.’
The scout pointed south. ‘Cravana is behind that bluff. You can’t see the road but as I recall it’s just over the ridge there.’ Cassius ran his eyes from the rocky bluff to the south-east corner of the Maze, a hundred feet to his right. From what Cassius had seen of the woodland, Enca had not exaggerated. The trees looked to be a mix of slender larch and sprawling willow but it was the undergrowth that seemed unusually thick. A man on foot wouldn’t move quickly; a man on horseback would be a fool to even try.
‘Wish there was some cover between here and the bluff.’
The riverbank was low and several narrow creeks ran up into the meadows. There were three houses visible between their current position and the bluff. Smoke was issuing from one of them.
‘Someone’s still here.’
Cassius turned to check that the others were ready then waved them on. He stayed close to Enca as they trotted ahead, soon on firmer ground. They were now crossing the bottom of a shallow slope, the ridge no more than a quarter-mile above.
As they got closer to the bluff, Cassius spied a couple of small buildings. Then something much closer caught his eye: a man had appeared on the roof of the occupied house. He was carrying a bag of tools, presumably for some kind of repair. He had not yet looked to the north but his gaze settled on something to the west. He shaded his hand.
Without a word, Cassius and Enca reined in.
‘He’s higher than us,’ said the scout.
‘He is,’ agreed Cassius. ‘And he’s seen something.’
As the others halted their horses, the surrounding noise lessened. And then Cassius could hear the hooves; dozens of mounts on the move. Almost certainly-
‘Cavalry.’ Enca pointed to the south-west. ‘There.’
They’d appeared on the ridge, only the top halves of the riders visible. They were heading towards Cravana.
‘Don’t move. Nobody move!’
Had there been only two or three, they might have got away with it. But it was only a matter of time before one of the many riders glanced down towards the river. There was no cover nearby; their discovery was inevitable. Sure enough, the shout came quickly and the first of the cavalry peeled away. In moments, ten of them were galloping down the slope, no more than a minute away.
When he turned, Cassius saw panic: Simo, still close to the general, one hand supporting him; Indavara struggling to turn his mount; Amarante and Ioanna transfixed by the onrushing cavalry.
But Quadratus was thinking quickly. Sword already up, the big cavalryman wheeled his horse around and neatly cut the lines tethering the womens’ mounts.
‘Men, with me.’
Even the injured Ocella lined up behind Quadratus, along with Fimbria, Cordus and Ambustus.
Cassius felt a thrill of admiration at the unswerving courage of these men.
‘We’ll do what we can. Yah!’
There was no time for noble words or even a farewell. The five cavalrymen set off on a collision course with the enemy riders.
‘Sir, we must go. Now!’ Enca trotted past Cassius and grabbed the ropes holding Amarante and Ioanna’s horses.
Always a good horseman, Simo had nimbly turned his own mount and was already on the move. Dolabella’s head was lolling as if unconscious but the ropes held him in place as Patch dutifully followed.
Never a good horseman, Indavara had still not gained control of his weary mount. Cassius veered towards it and used his own reins to smack the beast across the snout. This had the desired effect and the bodyguard was at last able to follow the others.
Behind them, Quadratus roared. ‘For Guard Officer Iovius! For Decurion Umbrius and the Twenty-Second! For the one true emperor!’
It was the last Cassius ever heard of them.
They covered the hard ground quickly, and whatever the cavalrymen had done, it occupied the enemy for a time. As they returned to the meadows, Enca did his best to avoid the worst morasses but progress slowed instantly. The horses had to negotiate deep, sticky mud and the troublesome creeks.
Cassius glanced over his shoulder. Three enemy riders were now pursuing them, galloping in close order. The meadows would slow them too but his party had only a half-mile start.
Enca did well; so too the young women behind him. Indavara even got close enough to help Simo and Dolabella was again conscious and upright. Cassius stayed at the rear to monitor their pursuers. They were gaining: three expert horsemen, movements as swift and sure as their mounts.
He had made the decision even before Indavara saw the second threat. ‘Infantry ahead!’
Cassius guided his horse to the right through a deep p
uddle so he could see past the others. The soldiers were coming up from the riverbank, a half-century now breaking into a run.
Gods.
He could not recall many worse fixes and there was only one alternative.
Wheeling left, he got ahead of the others. ‘This way! All of you, this way!’
He waved them towards the Maze and a line of willows where they could instantly find cover.
They all obeyed and kept their mounts under control as they ploughed up the slope. Cassius slowed until they were all past him. He looked first south, then east. The sodden ground had made a mess of the infantry’s advance and the three cavalrymen had slowed too; but the riders would reach them first.
A hundred yards to the trees. By the time he got there, the others had dismounted. Enca and Indavara were trying to help Dolabella down.
‘Leave him,’ said Cassius as he dropped to the ground. ‘Your bows. Give those three something to think about.’
‘And the ten behind them?’ remarked Indavara as he plucked his bow from his saddle.
The women just stood there, still holding their horses’ reins.
‘Forget the mounts! Just grab some water and food – from Simo’s saddle there.’
Cassius helped the attendant and with the ropes free, the general fell into their arms. His single visible eye was rolling and he seemed to have no strength left at all.
‘Sir, we’ll have to carry him.’
‘Just get our gear, Simo. Weapons and cloaks only. Leave the armour.’
‘What about Patch, sir, perhaps-’
‘Do as you’re told, man!’
Cassius looked up at the ping of a bowstring and saw the cavalrymen rein in. They were about two hundred feet away and clearly hadn’t expected to find themselves in a battle that morning. None wore helmets or armour.
Cassius knelt beside the general, who could barely hold himself up.
‘Sir, I’m sorry. We didn’t quite make it.’
Dolabella somehow summoned a grin. ‘You did your best, I know.’
‘We have to go into the trees. Can you get up?’
‘Don’t think I’ll ever get up again, lad. Do you have a dagger for me?’