“You can do this?” She glared at him. “Apologies, I simply meant did you want to do that now?”
She smiled faintly, “Of course. I loved your parents like they were family and Ximo...” Choking back a half-sob, she broke off and walked quickly to him. “When they are buried, what will you do?”
Looking into her eyes he could tell she already knew what he intended. “Alugra is at the castro with his warriors. They will go after the Arvenci and I am going with them.”
She took his right hand in both of hers and gripped it tightly. “With this hand you will slay them. Do this please. For Ximo, for all of them.” she whispered fiercely.
Caros nodded hard. “I will.” He took her into a close embrace and then pulled away. “I must go now. I shall ask the stonemason to provide us with a little bread and cheese as well.”
Night made the ride dangerous and he strained against his exhaustion to guide his mount safely along the rocky path. Blinking hard, he pushed on up the hill track towards the quarry until, at last, he saw the welcoming site of a fire still burning at the stonemason’s hearth. As he approached, he called out greetings loudly, not wanting to alarm the man and his wife. They lived on a secluded spur above the valley, close to the quarry where the man worked. They would not be used to receiving visitors in the dark and in the aftermath of the bloodshed would be nervous at the approach of a stranger. Ugar appeared swiftly at the door and Caros noticed an arrow already nocked in his bow.
“Ugar, it is Caros, Joaquim’s son.” Caros kept the pace of the horse steady and tried to tell what the stonemason was doing with the bow. It worried him, especially as the stonemason usually won or came close to winning all the archery contests held in these parts.
“How goes it Caros? These are dangerous times to be out after dark.”
Caros slowed the horse and stopped just within the glow emanating from the doorway. “You’ve heard then?” He guessed the stonemason must have heard of the attacks from some fleeing family.
“I’ve heard. I had my family tramping over to the castro when I spotted the smoke from the village, but halfway there I saw the Arvenci already ahead of us so I abandoned that plan.”
Caros swung down from his mount and embraced the powerful old man briefly in greeting. “That is why I am here Ugar. My parents and brother were amongst those killed. My mother made it to the castro, but many village men did not. There were not enough men to hold the walls. Everyone inside was killed.” A part of Caros marveled that he could talk of their deaths in such a calm tone.
Ugar watched the young man silently for a heartbeat then yelled over his shoulder to his wife indoors. “Suls pour some ale, we have a guest.”
Caros wanted to object, he didn’t want to stay, just come to an arrangement and then return home. He said nothing though, not wanting to appear ungrateful and in any event he did want to take some food back to Julene.
Ugar invited him in. “You eaten anything, son? Come in and get some stew. Killed a goat last week. Meat’s as stringy as a witch, but tastier.” He motioned Caros indoors. Caros preceded Ugar in through the low doorway, stooping to avoid the lintel. It was pleasantly warm inside and Ugar’s wife was already ladling a watery stew into a clay bowl.
“Hello, Caros. Bad times these. What is the news from the village?” She looked uncomfortable.
“Not good. Many of the villagers were killed trying to get to the castro, those that did make it were killed within the palisade.” Suls dropped the ladle with an exclamation, both hands covering her mouth. “That is really why I came by at this hour. I need...”
Ugar cut him off. “Not now. Sit and eat first. Suls, get some ale into the lad. All his family were lost. From the look of him I am surprised he got all the way up here.”
Suls quickly pushed the bowl across the timber table to Caros. “Yes, sit my son. This is an awful, evil thing.”
Caros sat down at the table gratefully. The kind sympathy had triggered the feelings of loss he was trying to bury, the horror of the day and the bitterness he felt. It all seemed to flood through him. He hung his head, blinking back tears and willing himself to be a man. Ugar laid the bow and quiver aside and sat down at the table as well. He splashed a cup full of ale and placed it next to the bowl.
“Damned goat was the stringiest one in the flock! Eat and drink, you’ll feel better.”
Caros smiled dutifully at Ugar’s attempted levity. The stew was good and the ale better. Caros quickly mopped up the last dregs of sauce with a lump of bread. He suddenly remembered Julene. He looked up at Suls who sat quietly at the fireside working a sheet of new leather. “Julene is at our farm. You know her, Brent and Cleo’s daughter?” Ugar grunted noncommittally, but Suls seemed to know whom he was talking of. “She came to see Ximo. She remained behind to tend the bodies. May I take some bread and such back for her? Everything has been robbed from our stores.” Suls was back on her feet in an instant and while she was packing a basket with some food Caros spoke to Ugar. “I’m going with Alugra tomorrow. We’re going after the Arvenci.” Ugar frowned deeply, but said nothing. “Before I go, I must have my family buried. My father had a tomb cut summers back, but I need it sealing. Will you do this for me tomorrow Ugar?”
The stonemason nodded immediately, “Yes of course. Where?” Caros explained how to find the tomb and Ugar confirmed he knew the place. “I’ll be there at first light to prepare it. Your father chose that spot well.”
“Thank you Ugar. I’m sorry to have disturbed you so late, but I cannot let the murderers get away and Alugra leaves early tomorrow.”
Ugar relaxed a little and nodded. “I know lad. Alugra is a dangerous one to have hunting you. If the Arvenci know he is coming, they will scatter and flee. You take care though because a cornered lynx can be vicious as Saur’s dogs in a fight.”
Caros left shortly after with a woven basket of foods. It was heavy; Suls must have packed a feast for a chieftain in there. Feeling badly for his horse, he let her choose her pace off the hill and back home. Julene must have woken when he called to her from the front of the ruined home for she looked bleary eyed and terrified when he entered the kitchen. The fire had died off and in the feeble light he saw the three enshrouded bodies laid in a tight row before the pantry door. He was impressed at how fast she had worked. Ximo was as big if not bigger than he or his father. His respect for her increased a hundredfold, and he was glad he could at least offer her food. He placed the basket on the table and laid more wood on the fire. “Suls packed a meal. From the weight of it I reckon it would feed an army.” He smiled at her while she opened the basket quietly. Her hands trembled as she fumbled at the knotted hemp cord holding the lid on.
“Your parents must be worried that you have not returned home?”
She paused untying, “They sent two men to check. I had them help me with the bindings.”
That explained how she had managed to lift the bodies. Caros stared now at those bodies. It was unnatural. This was their home. They should be sitting here at the table finishing their evening meal, planning the next day’s business or discussing village news. Laughing, joking, talking, living! Now he sat there while they lay shrouded in white on the cold floor. He shook his head, too much, best to just shut it out and deal with things as they happened.
Julene succeeded in opening the basket, “Oh! I hope Suls has left something for Ugar in the larder. Look at all this food!” They both laughed and spent a few moments unpacking it all onto the table before them. Suddenly it occurred to Caros and Julene at the same time. Most of the foods were of the kind you’d take on a long trip, dried meat and fruit, pickled foods and hard bread.
She nodded at him, “This will help you.”
Caros was relieved because in truth he had not even considered taking food with. “There is plenty, so eat, please.”
“Caros when did you discover your father and Ximo? Were you not with them?”
“No, I was in Tagilit and arrived home by the northeast road th
is morning. I knew there was trouble the moment I saw old man Balic’s place gutted and all the livestock missing. I rode around the place but saw no sign of battle. Even though the house still smouldered, there were no people about or even livestock apart from a few hens. At the creek bridge I saw a dog, dead from spear wounds and then as I closed on the village road I saw the villagers that had been caught there. It is where I found my father and brother. I expect the Arvenci came at the village from three or four directions at once because they passed your place before sunrise as well. They knew most would try to flee to the castro so they cut many of them off. Only those living on that side of the valley reached it. Ugar and Suls tried to get to the castro as well, but saw they were cut off so instead hid up in the rocks above their home. Nobody would ever catch the stonemason up there.” Caros fell silent while his mind questioned and probed every event of the last day. Julene startled him with a hand on his shoulder. He was actually falling asleep right there at the table. “Sorry.” He stammered, but she laughed and told him to get to his bed. She would sleep in Ximo’s room. They hugged again briefly, fiercely, in shared grief.
CHAPTER 2
CAROS ROSE BEFORE DAWN and began the task of building the funeral pyre. There was still a substantial stack of wood left from their winter stocks and to this he added bundles of brush gathered from the hillside to the rear of the house. Satisfied at last that there was enough to burn away the bodies and release their shades, he doused the whole with raw olive oil. Sick with grief, he lifted and carried the enshrouded bodies of his family from their dwelling to place them at the centre of the pyre. With shaking hands, he slowly upended the amphora of oil and soaked the linen wrappings.
He closed his eyes and called on Saur to allow passage to his kin through the dead lands and then to Endovex to receive them in his great hall. While Caros offered his prayers, Brent arrived with wife and son to stand with Julene. Caros opened his eyes to see Julene’s family along with two other neighbouring families. “Thank you for coming. It is ready.”
The men broke away from their kin and approached, each bearing a small offering which they placed on the chests of the dead. Small blades, strings of beads, dried meats and fruit.
When they were done, Caros stepped forward and placed a nugget of silver on each of his kin’s wrapped foreheads. Next, he lit a torch with a deft crack of flint and once that was burning well, he circled the pyre, lighting the tinder as he went. In no time the oil-doused pyre began to crackle furiously and Caros retreated to stand beside the others.
By noon the fire had burned away, leaving a pile of ash eddying in a slight breeze. Caros accepted the farewells of his neighbours, his eyes distant and words wooden. Alone, Caros raked the still warm ash and filled the sacred clay urns. Ugar was as good as his word and had already prepared the tomb. In truth, a crew of slaves who had carved the niches into the granite had completed most of the work years before. Ugar had only needed to put the finishing touches to the walls and then carve the inscriptions for the dead into the face of the stone that would seal the entrance. With the urns stowed in the small tomb together with further offerings, Ugar closed and sealed the tomb.
Caros could now join with Alugra’s warriors. They would most likely have moved from the castro to the village and if they had already left from there, he would follow. Descending the mountainside under the hot afternoon sun, he entered the shade where he had tethered his horse beneath a tree. Already Ugar had disappeared into the valley on his way home. Caros walked his mare down the rest of the track onto the valley floor. Here, he encountered villagers and farmers who had survived the raid and were now out seeing to the needs of kin and clan. This was a close community of Bastetani people and such devastating losses would scar them for many seasons. Once he had gained retribution, he would return to help rebuild. As the eldest son he had been groomed to take over the family trade once his father grew too old for the ardors of travel. For the past two summers he had steadily been doing more and more negotiating and trading on behalf of his father. Now it all rested on him alone. The business and rebuilding.
His father’s business was the trade of tin, iron and even silver mined in the mountains and recently he had also begun to trade shipments of arms and armour. There was war in the air with the new Carthaginian Commander pushing north and west, levying those tribes living there. While many villagers would not know much of Carthage or the Barcas, Caros as the son of an educated man, had learned the histories of Greece and Carthage. His father had even had the foresight to hire a scribe from Carthage to instruct Caros and Ximo in that city’s dialect.
On trips to the port town of Baria, Caros had met with Carthaginian traders. He winced as he recalled the first meeting where he had traded a large amount of tin to a Carthaginian and had been comprehensively out-bartered. He had not made that mistake again and on the following occasion had fixed his price at more than double what he actually wanted. He had let the apoplectic Carthaginian walk away from him no less than three times before a fair price was struck. No sooner was the deal made than the Carthaginian’s demeanour changed from outrage to amused respect. Laughing and slapping Caros’ shoulder, the bearded man had asked if he liked masquerading as an illiterate Iberian, for he must surely be a Phoenician or Greek to trade so skilfully.
The Bastetani village of Orze appeared at the end of the valley and Caros was heartened to see many more people between the buildings than he would have expected. Most people he passed knew and greeted him, although here and there, were huddles of people too grief-stricken to even glance at him as he passed by. The village had also been fired and while many of the building’s roofs had burned through, the fires had not been hot enough to crack and destroy the walls.
Caros reined in at the village well. From the homes about him came the wails of the bereaved. The community was as broken and fractured in spirit as in property. Caros dismounted and tied the mare up at a hollowed tree which was the trough from which the goats and cattle drank. Drawing cool water from the well alongside, he drank deeply then rinsed his face of the cloying smell left from the funeral pyre. The two village elders had noticed him and were making their way over. Both Hunar and Luan were close friends of his family. They each embraced him and offered their condolences at the loss of his family.
Hunar eyed the falcata sheathed at his hip appraisingly. “Alugra has taken his men south after the Arvenci. Some others of the village have accompanied him. They will cut the enemy down where they find them, Caros. We have need of you here.”
“My place is with the warriors seeking these killers. There is a blood debt owed for what they have done.” Caros replied firmly.
Luan placed a restraining hand on Hunar’s arm. “This is your choice and we cannot prevent it. You must return though, Caros.” He gestured about him at the surviving villagers. “They are fearful and many talk to returning north to Tagilit. They say it was a mistake to think that the Carthaginians would prevent such raids. Soon the village will not have enough inhabitants to allow it to live on.”
Caros eyed the desperate and despondent as they carried their remaining possessions with them on the road north. “I am glad you respect my obligation in this. Once done, I will return. My grandfather’s family established this community and until now it has been prosperous, but it was a mistake thinking we were safe from raids. When I return, I will sponsor the building of stout walls to protect Orze.” He gestured at the small hill the village had been built upon in the wider valley floor. Most villages were built on hilltops for defence and in addition, had stout walls of rock and post encircling them. Both elders smiled, but Caros thought he detected a trace of doubt in their eyes. He suspected the elders’ biggest concern was losing the family of the most prosperous trader in the valley. The rest of the villagers made fine wares that traded well enough, but it was his grandfather and his father who had become wealthy trading in metals mined from the mountains. Riding on his family’s successes in trade, the villagers had been abl
e to expand the market for their cereals and flax.
Hunar gestured south, “Alugra left at sunrise. He expects the Arvenci to splinter, some taking their plunder back to their homes and others heading to the coast to sell it to the Greek and Carthaginians. He hopes to gain them before then.”
“The Arvenci took much livestock, I have not seen a cow or horse in the entire valley. That should slow them down.” Caros drew a leather satchel from his baggage on the horse. “Ugar has sealed the tomb of my parents and brother. Please accept these gifts and call on Endovex to take the shades of my family to him. The homestead is burned but not destroyed. If I may request, please employ some villagers to begin rebuilding the dwellings.” Caros presented the satchel with both hands to the two elders. Hunar accepted it, surprise showing briefly on his face when he felt its weight. Caros had included enough silver to employ men and women to rebuild the house as well as a generous compensation for the elders. As much as he enjoyed trading with miners and sea captains, his real joy was in breeding fine horses and already he was desperate to rebuild the depleted herd. He whispered an invocation to Runeovex to allow him to recapture some of the stolen stock.
Luan embraced Caros once more, “Go then, do this thing. We will hold a ceremony for the dead once you return.”
Caros embraced Hunar too, before mounting and turning south past the village to where he intended to revenge his slain family and satisfy their honour.
CHAPTER 3
CAROS FOUND ALUGRA’S column late in the afternoon. He spied them strung out and trotting briskly south along a local trail. At the column head, rode Alugra and seven of his leading men, setting the pace for the warriors on foot to follow. Caros expected that Alugra would probably have horsemen ranging far ahead, searching for sign of the Arvenci. A shout from the column at the sight of Caros brought the riders at the front to a halt. Caros trotted his mare past sweat-stained warriors taking the opportunity to catch their breath. “Greetings, Alugra.” Caros called upon reaching the leading man. “I hope I have not missed any excitement?” He did not expect that he had as the Arvenci would still be at least a day ahead of them.
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