by Nick Brown
Volosus felt his hands forming fists. ‘There’s not a crossing?’
‘No,’ replied the informant. ‘But I’m told they have a boat.’
Though he was as desperate as Master Cassius and the others to get across the river, Simo was immensely glad to have found this place. Once he, Amarante, Indavara and Enca had eaten, Brother Gregory showed them around the farmhouse. Within the building there was a kitchen, parlour, three bedrooms, a bakery and a pressing room. The Brethren had a small vineyard on some nearby higher ground and were also trying to establish an olive grove, though apparently the soil was rather unsuitable. Outside the house, facing the meadow, were pens for goats and sheep.
The aged Brother Jerome had remained inside with Enca but the other three men were working on a fence. Simo stood by the goat pen with Gregory, watching as Indavara strode away to the west along the track. He’d just told them that he was taking a walk to clear his head. Simo guessed that Cassius had asked him to do so.
‘A blessed day,’ said Gregory, gazing up at the cloudless sky as he leant back against the fence.
‘It is,’ replied Simo.
Amarante stood a few yards away, intrigued by a trio of young goats scampering around.
‘May I ask you something?’
‘Please,’ said Gregory.
‘You do not refer to Jerome as “elder”?’
‘No, though I know groups like ours use the term in the East. You have known elders? Bishops?’
‘I have.’
‘Even though he is our leader, Jerome does not want a title. He believes we must all be equal within the Faith. Also, his health – nor his hearing – is what it was. We make decisions together.’
‘You study?’
‘We talk. Only myself and Brother Lucius can write. We are very much dependent on Brother Jerome for the teachings of the Lord. We’re in the process of recording what we can but paper and ink is very expensive. Yourself?’
‘I have studied in Antioch and in Bostra.’
‘An educated man then?’
‘I suppose so. And a slave.’
Gregory seemed a little surprised but did not directly comment. Simo wasn’t sure why he’d said it.
‘You’ve been with your master a long time?’
‘Four years, though I’ll admit it often seems longer.’
Gregory gave a wry grin. ‘I was born in Lugdunum. Several of us were. I do not care much for cities. The noise, the violence. Here we have peace.’
Simo looked around. The air was pleasantly warm and the farmhouse bathed in sunlight. Amarante giggled as one of the little goats dared to come close to her.
‘What next for you all?’
‘We pray that the fighting does not affect us. We are not close to a crossing. We must hope it all passes us by. If the harvest goes well this year, we’ll have enough to feed ourselves. Our aim is to produce more, assist the local poor.’
Simo felt proud. Here, in a land threatened by war, his fellow believers thought of others.
‘Not solely for their benefit,’ admitted Gregory. ‘We’ve had a few difficulties with some of our neighbours. It is not like the East here. Most worship the Roman gods – at least as much as they have to. Others still follow the old gods and goddesses of Gaul. We are something new, something strange. We must try to win them over.’
Amarante followed the young goats around to the other side of the pen.
‘Where is your dog?’ asked Simo, recalling how ferocious the animal had been.
‘Locked in his den. He’s a good beast but gets over-excited when we have visitors. Has been known to attack the other animals too. He belonged to Eppo.’
‘Ah.’
‘There were nine of us in the beginning,’ explained Gregory. ‘I’m sorry to say that the temptations of the flesh overpowered two of our number. Eppo took a wife. The other … well, an unpleasant story.’
‘It is not easy to follow a righteous path. I must follow my master, of course – as the Lord teaches – but I have seen much that …’
Simo would have liked to continue but suspected he already gone too far.
‘Temptation is always around us.’ Gregory nodded towards Amarante. ‘Your friend, for example – what man could be blind to such a glorious creation? Yet that is the test. That is where the strength comes from. In the East, our brothers and sisters remained strong even as they burned alive.’
Simo admired the man’s honesty. He’d admonished himself several times for looking at Amarante, even allowing one or two lustful thoughts. He had noted that such thoughts often came during times of great tension and fear.
‘Without temptation, we cannot prove ourselves worthy of the Kingdom.’
‘Quite so,’ said Gregory. ‘When I first found the Faith, I considered travelling to the East, where we are greatest in number. But now I believe I can do more here.’
‘Dominus, The Bishop of Antioch, once predicted that all Rome will follow the Faith within a hundred years. Do you think it is possible?’
Gregory smiled. ‘Our Lord Christ perished two and a half centuries ago yet we have never been stronger. I believe it is.’
Cassius was woken by Simo.
‘Sir, the boat has returned. We can leave.’
Despite his dazed condition, Cassius felt a profound surge of relief. ‘Thank the gods.’ He sat up and looked around. ‘The others?’
‘All ready, sir. I suggested we let you sleep.’
‘Good man.’
‘Here, sir. It’s well watered.’ Cassius took the mug of wine and drank it all, suddenly struck by a fierce thirst.
‘You won’t need your cloak, sir. The rest is packed. There’s just this.’
Simo took the mug and handed his master the sword-belt.
‘Gods, I had some horrible dreams. Indavara watched the track?’
‘He walked more than a mile, sir. No sign of anything to trouble us.’
‘Good.’
‘Sir, I took the liberty of leaving an aureus in a pot in the kitchen. They wouldn’t have accepted it openly but … well, it seemed like the right thing to do.’
Simo looked concerned. Cassius could not recall an occasion when the attendant had used his money without asking.
‘Indeed. The least we can do.’
They walked out of the bedroom then past the kitchen and parlour and out of the back door. Cassius noted a large barn to the right, where numerous amphoras could be seen. As they passed a goat, the animal made a bizarre sound that caused both men to laugh. Still feeling rather dazed after the sleep, Cassius was grateful for a break in the tension that seemed to have have gripped him for so long.
Fifty feet along a muddy path, the others were all gathered at the river bank, where the boat was tied up to new-looking dock. The vessel was no more than fifteen feet long but sturdily-built and with a short mast and a pair of oars.
Enca was already within the boat, grimacing as he tried to get comfortable. Amarante sat beside him, gazing across the river. Also there were Brother Timon and one of the two who had just returned.
Indavara nodded to Cassius. He stood above the boat, bow over his shoulder.
Gregory introduced the second man as Lucius, and explained that a particularly strong flood tide had slowed their progress. Arranged neatly close to the dock were half a dozen large amphoras and a parcel of coloured cloth.
‘These two will have you across in no time,’ said Gregory.
‘Good oarsmen both!’ added Brother Jerome, who was leaning upon a stick and appeared even more frail and ancient in the unforgiving daylight.
‘My sincere thanks,’ said Cassius before shaking the hands of Jerome, Gregory and the three other Christians.
‘May the Lord watch over you!’ exclaimed Jerome, waving to Enca and Amarante, who both added their thanks.
‘It was a blessing that we should meet,’ said Simo. ‘I will remember you in my prayers.’
‘And we you,’ said Gregory.
; Cassius approached the boat and indicated for Indavara to climb in first. ‘Don’t worry – if you fall in, I promise I’ll fish you out.’
With a dismissive sneer, Indavara climbed down and was directed towards the bow as the two oarsmen took up position on the central bench. Cassius joined him there, while Simo was sent to the stern with Amarante and Enca to balance the weight.
Gregory untied the line that held the boat against the dock and threw it to Cassius. Timon pushed off and, once clear, he and Lucius began to row. Cassius looked beyond them, at Amarante. She brushed her hair out of her face and gazed out once more across the placid waters of the Rhone.
Sunlight upon the river created a sparkling shimmer. In combination with the motion of the little boat, this lulled Cassius’s eyes shut. He opened them when he heard Indavara curse and what he saw he initially mistook for another nightmare.
Timon and Lucius had stopped rowing and everyone was staring back at the shore. A hundred feet away, the Christians were lined up at the dock. But not all of them – one motionless figure lay on the ground. And behind the remaining four men were three distinctive figures:
Volosus, Gutha and Bibulus.
Volosus held his sword up, turning it until it caught the sun. ‘Good morning, young man!’ His voice carried easily across the water. ‘I suggest you return. One of these poor fellows has already had his throat cut. It would be a shame for them all to perish so. This old fellow is praying for their Lord to save them. He cannot. You can.’
Enca watched their enemies, shaking his head in disbelief. Timon and Lucius turned back to Cassius at the bow.
Indavara spoke quietly. ‘Chances are they’ll kill them anyway.’
Cassius felt Simo’s eyes upon him, Amarante’s too.
‘Please don’t,’ she said. ‘Please.’
‘Damn you,’ hissed Timon.
‘I can’t. I can’t.’ Amarante was pleading now, eyes wet with tears.
Cassius experienced a strange clarity of thought: Iovius, Quadratus and the cavalrymen. All the others left in their wake; all those who had given their lives so that he could accomplish his missions; win victories for Rome. At least they had been soldiers; at least they had taken the oath. For all he considered the Christians an odd, misguided bunch, they had taken the strangers in, showed them nothing but kindness.
He reckoned Volosus was right. Their Lord wouldn’t save them. Neither would the great gods. He could.
‘It’s not their fight.’ He glanced at Indavara; wanting and needing him to understand.
A slight nod of acceptance.
‘Turn around.’
Though all colour had drained from his face, Timon moved his oar. Lucius followed a moment later, fingers shaking.
‘You lied to us,’ said Timon as he propelled the boat back across the river.
‘We did,’ admitted Cassius.
‘You’re a fool,’ said Amarante, her face tight with anger. ‘We’re dead now. Dead.’
Cassius turned so that he could watch the shore as they approached. Volosus now came out from behind the four Christians, breezily twirling his sword.
‘Well?’ whispered Cassius.
‘You’re the ideas man,’ replied Indavara.
Over the next minute, Cassius did his best to cut through the noise in his mind but only one clear thought offered itself:
He told the oarsmen to halt twenty feet from the dock.
‘Why should we?’ replied the wilful Timon.
‘Because I might at least be able to keep the rest of you alive.’
The two Christians turned to each other then stopped rowing.
‘Keep coming,’ instructed Volosus, his grey hair ruffled by the breeze.
‘We will,’ answered Cassius evenly. ‘But these men – I ask you to let them go. They have no part in this.’
‘It was not I who involved them.’
‘We four will get out of the boat. The oarsmen and the injured man will remain. The four with you will join them and you’ll allow them to leave.’
‘Are you in a position to make demands?’
‘Those are my conditions. Or we can stay like this all day. I’d imagine you have someone to report to.’
‘Very well,’ said Volosus. ‘But you will drop all your weapons into the water now.’
‘Do it.’ Cassius removed his dagger sheath and threw it over the side. Next off was his sword belt.
‘Ah, not that,’ said Volosus. ‘Nice-looking sword.’
With a bitter curse, Indavara threw his own blade away. Enca was sitting closest to the two bows – they were the last weapons over the side.
At a nod from Cassius, Timon and Lucius guided the boat back to the dock.
Simo was first out. He helped Amarante, who immediately decided to spit at Volosus. The spittle missed him and he responded with an unlikely chuckle.
‘Oh, my dear, what fun we will have.’
Volosus sheathed his blade. Young man – the sword.’
Cassius threw it up to him. Volosus caught it one-handed.
He drew out the long blade, admiring the eagle upon the hilt. ‘Most elegant. Expensive too, I’m sure. I believe I shall keep it.’ He aimed the tip at Indavara and Cassius as they climbed out.
‘As soon as we’re on the bank, you’ll let them go?’
Volosus nodded. ‘I’d offer you my word as an officer of Rome but I think we’re a little past that, aren’t we?’
Cassius led the others off the dock, up the short path onto the riverbank and ushered them a few yards from the Christians. The dead man was one of those who had returned that morning. He lay as if asleep, though his blood had soaked the grass around his head.
Gutha shoved two of them forward, leaving Gregory to escort the frail Jerome towards the dock. Jerome’s hands were shaking, eyes flicking from face to face, seemingly unable to take in what had occurred. Brother Gregory appeared enraged and refused to look at Cassius and his group.
Cassius opened his mouth but there was nothing to be said. He was at least thankful that they would survive.
Gutha approached, a double-bladed axe in his hand.
‘We meet again,’ he growled.
Blade at the ready, Bibulus moved behind Cassius and the others.
‘Hurry up,’ said Volosus wearily. He watched as Jerome was helped into the boat. Gregory was last in and it was he that cast them off.
‘You see,’ said Volosus. ‘I can be merciful. That must give the four of you hope. Now you three I know – who is the fat one?’
‘My attendant,’ said Cassius.
‘Ah. And what is your name, young man?’
‘Cassius Quintius Corbulo.’
‘Tiberius Volosus. Pleased to make your acquaintance.’
Volosus swapped the sword to his left hand and shook forearms with Cassius. He held on to him, fingers digging into the skin.
‘Do you remember what I said to you at the fortress, Cassius? I hope you did enjoy your brief victory. I believe I also told you to enjoy your last days. You were quite correct that I have someone to report to –
the emperor, no less. But my men and I have had a very … frustrating few days. I feel I deserve a break, some time to enjoy myself. Unfortunately, today will be your last day.’ He pointed at Indavara, then Simo. ‘And yours, and yours. As for you, Aphrodite – we shall see.’
He was still holding Cassius and now pulled him forward, speaking into his ear. ‘She’s a strong one. I’ll wager she was telling you to keep going across the river. Putting a bunch of cultists before your own lives and those of your friends? You’re not much of an agent. Weak. Very weak.’
XXI
With Gutha standing guard outside the Retreat’s barn, Bibulus bound the four captives. Volosus then ordered that they be tied to a wooden fence not far from the rear door of the farmhouse. Once they were secure, he and his men disappeared inside. The noise from the kitchen suggested that someone was preparing food. Three horses were tied up by the barn, incl
uding one monstrous black animal that presumably belonged to the mercenary.
The fence shook as Amarante tried to free herself. They were all on their knees and she was furthest to the left, beside Indavara. Then came Cassius and Simo.
‘Don’t waste your energy,’ said Indavara. ‘It’s not the first time that greasy sod has tied people up.’
She ignored him and continued to pull and strain at the ropes.
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Simo to his master quietly. ‘Thank you for getting the Brethren away from … this.’
‘I wouldn’t thank me yet.’
Cassius assumed that while his actions had spared the Christians, he and his three companions would in all likelihood now suffer the worst that Volosus could throw at them. Images of poor Dolabella flashed into his mind.
After a few minutes, Gutha ambled out of the farmhouse, swigging from a flask of wine. He was unarmed, wearing only a sleeveless tunic and a belt with an ornate silver buckle. With the possible exception of a certain Praetorian Guardsman from his first assignment in Syria, the German was the most impressive physical specimen Cassius had ever seen. His neck and limbs would have appeared freakishly thick if not for the fact that the rest of him was similarly huge. He looked to be at least seven feet tall. The blonde thatch of hair above his grim, weathered face was incongruously pretty.
Gutha wandered along the line of captives, ignoring Simo, who was quietly praying. He came to a stop opposite Indavara. ‘They say the gods work in mysterious ways. Thousands of miles from here to Arabia and yet here we are. The Scorpion Pass, wasn’t it?’
‘Well remembered,’ said Indavara evenly. ‘Once we’d killed all your men, you decided against fighting on alone. You walked away.’
Gutha nodded. ‘I am a mercenary.’
‘Hope you’re being paid well to guard that prick.’
‘Very well. And you?’
‘Not bad.’
‘I must congratulate you regarding the Black Stone.’ Gutha aimed the flask towards Cassius. ‘Both of you, I mean.’
‘Much appreciated,’ said Cassius. ‘While we’re on the subject of money, no one has more than the emperor Aurelian. Of course, anyone who assisted us would be well compensated. And they would end up on the winning side. An important consideration for a pragmatist such as yourself.’