by Alex Gough
He too was feeling the fatigue, although he was in much better shape than Atius. His heart was pounding and his breathing heavy. The noise they made as they rushed on sounded in his ears like a charging herd of cows, though he hoped the dense vegetation muffled the volume at least partially.
His foot caught a root, one of those ones that emerged from the soil and then disappeared again, making a hoop. He felt himself pitching forward but his foot remained trapped, and he felt the strain on his ankle as it twisted in an unnatural direction.
He fell, turning at the last moment to take the impact on his shoulder, and his spear flew from his hands. As he came down, the root tore in two, and his foot came free. He took a moment to rub his ankle, and to move his foot in tentative circles. It was sore, but not overly so. He was lucky it hadn’t broken or sprained. If he was with the legions, that sort of injury would have seen him stretchered back to the hospital, with a two-month recovery period. In these circumstances, though, the injury would be fatal.
Atius, who had been three yards behind him, stopped and leant forward, hands on his knees, gasping.
‘In one piece still?’ he said with what breath he could spare.
‘Seems so,’ said Silus. ‘For now.’
Atius held out a hand to help him up, and Silus reached for it, then stopped.
‘Listen!’ he said earnestly, voice low.
Atius cocked his head on one side, and Odo, who had halted just ahead of them, turned back and cupped his hands to his ears.
‘They’re coming,’ said Odo.
Silus could hear it more clearly now. The sound of someone rushing towards them, breaking twigs and brushing against leaves in their haste. They were about a hundred yards away, he estimated, but closing rapidly. Silus looked at Atius who was still breathing heavily, and made a quick decision.
‘Run, both of you. I’ll catch you up.’
Atius looked at him doubtfully.
‘Go. There is no time to argue.’
Atius helped Silus to his feet, and slapped him on the shoulder, then followed Odo, who was already retreating deeper into the forest. Silus picked up the spear, felt its weight, its balance, and then listened intently, gauging direction and distance. He selected a tree trunk, put his back to it and gripped the spear tightly.
The approaching warrior was showing no sign of caution. The one who found the escaped prisoners, especially the associates of the sacrilegious priestess murderer, would surely be celebrated by his tribe. He continued onwards at full speed, the noise of his approach growing ever louder. But it was only when he was within half a dozen yards that Silus knew for sure that he had picked his ambush location correctly.
His fingers tightened around the spear shaft, willing himself to wait, wait.
Then he stepped out, straight into the path of the onrushing pursuer. Silus didn’t even have to thrust. The warrior ran straight onto the spear, skewering himself from front to back. The spear tip erupted from his back in a gout of blood, but the warrior’s momentum kept him going. He barrelled into Silus and knocked him over backwards, landing on top of him and driving the wind from Silus’ chest. Silus lost his grip on the spear, but it didn’t matter.
The astonished warrior’s face was an inch from Silus’ own, so close it looked like a lover’s clinch. He coughed, and blood sprayed into Silus’ eyes. Silus pushed hard, rolled him off to one side. He coughed again, gasped, coughed once more, and died.
Silus bent over him to retrieve the spear. The warrior was a young man, about the same age as Odo. Probably unmarried, childless. And now he always would be. Silus yanked on the spear shaft, and it came loose with a sucking sound. Some blood and flesh clung to the tip, and he wiped it on the dead German. Then, with one last look at the still corpse, he set off after Atius and Odo.
* * *
They stopped when it was obvious that Atius could go no further. Odo walked a short distance back the way they had come to check for signs of pursuit. Atius lay on his back, breathing hard. Silus sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. They stayed like that, wordless, until Odo returned.
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘We’re safe, for now.’
‘They’ll find the body soon, if they haven’t already,’ said Silus. They had fled as fast as Atius could manage for the best part of an hour, and Silus was confident that they had avoided the initial chaotic attempts by the drunken mob of warriors to catch them. The nature of the chase would change now, from flailing around in the dark, to tracking with dogs and scouts. The corpse of the warrior Silus had killed would give them a good indication which way they were headed. Now Silus needed cunning as much as speed.
But first, Atius needed time to recover. Odo suggested he scout around while they waited, and Silus agreed. The young German slipped away into the trees.
Silus looked down at Atius. Although he was just a grey shape in the darkness, Silus could see his diminished figure.
‘What did they do you, friend?’ he whispered, as much to himself as to Atius. Atius didn’t reply, but his breathing slowed, and after a while he levered himself up until he was sitting upright.
‘The boy,’ he said. ‘What did you call him? Odo?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What do you know about him?’
Silus frowned, though Atius would not be able to see his expression.
‘What do you mean?’
‘How did he come to be your guide? What’s his background? What’s his allegiance?’
‘Why are you asking? What’s wrong?’
Atius grasped Silus’ upper arm and spoke with urgency. ‘Tell me, quickly, before he returns.’
‘Oclatinius assigned him to me. He is Alamanni, and they are no enemies of Rome.’
‘How do you know this?’
‘That he is Alamanni? I met his family.’
‘No, that they are not Rome’s enemies.’
‘I…’ He didn’t know, of course. Even if he had been on active service these past months, he would not have been privy to the meetings and ever shifting treaties, pacts and alliances that constituted Roman diplomacy.
‘I trust him,’ said Silus eventually.
‘With your life?’ asked Atius.
Silus opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Odo returned. He’d made so little noise on his approach, he took Silus by surprise, who wondered if he had been listening to their conversation. But his voice was light and unconcerned when he spoke.
‘There is a stream a short distance further on. I filled my water bottle, and I found these mushrooms growing there. Eat them.’
Silus took a handful, turned them over to inspect them, and sniffed them. He was used to eating fungi when he was on foraging while on scouting missions in Britannia, but these were unfamiliar. Odo offered some to Atius, but he made no move to accept them.
‘You first,’ said Atius gruffly.
Odo shrugged, and shoved a couple in his mouth, chewing and swallowing. Silus did likewise. Atius still hesitated. Silus couldn’t understand what was wrong with him. He needed all the nutrition he could get.
‘Eat, Atius. They aren’t much, but they are better than nothing.’
Reluctantly, Atius took a few of the mushrooms and chewed them slowly and suspiciously before swallowing. Silus saw Odo looking at Atius, but he couldn’t read his expression in the dark. An uneasy feeling grew inside him. The last thing he needed was conflict between those two.
‘Atius, are you fit? Can you go on?’
‘Of course,’ said Atius, and struggled to his feet, waving away Odo’s offer of help.
‘Right, Odo, lead us to that stream. We’ll walk along it for a while to throw off any dogs they use, then I want you to lead us north for a while.’
‘North?’ Atius sounded puzzled. ‘The quickest way to the border is due west.’
‘Exactly,’ said Silus. ‘So which way do you think they will assume we are going?’
Atius was quiet for a moment. Then he said, in a low v
oice, ‘I’ve missed you, Silus.’
Silus clapped him on the back. ‘Let’s go.’
* * *
Their pace was slower now, but stealth was more important than speed. Atius and Silus were both proficient in disguising their tracks, but Silus was impressed that Odo also took care not to disturb the leaf litter, to break branches or leave any of the other tell-tale signs that might show a tracker their passage.
Atius was able to sustain the brisk walking pace, and as day dawned, the risk of tripping on concealed roots and rocks receded. Silus tried to draw Atius into conversation, but whenever he tried to bring the subject round to Atius’ mission, how he had been captured, Atius would just glance at Odo and squeeze his mouth shut. Eventually Silus gave up trying, and they walked on in silence as Silus tried to adjust to this new uncharacteristically taciturn side of his friend.
Their rest breaks were short, and though each time Odo, who showed not the slightest sign of fatigue, scouted ahead, Atius was still reluctant to talk about their journey and capture. But when the scout wasn’t around, he asked after Tituria, how was Lipari, even how Issa was faring in her old age. As soon as Odo returned, though, he clammed up again.
The terrain varied between forest, hill, marsh and farmland. Atius noted that their progress was much quicker than on his outward journey, without the terrible winter conditions they had had to cope with. Although there was enough rain and mud to make sure they weren’t enjoying themselves, by the time night fell they had covered a considerable distance, and had been travelling west for some time.
When they stopped for some rest and sleep in the lee of a rocky cliff face, with dusk approaching, Silus and Odo left Atius, and scrambled to the top of the cliff to survey their position. Silus looked out over the countryside, green rolling hills dotted with the white blobs of distant sheep. The setting sun illuminated the underside of the clouds, turning them into upside-down red-orange hillocks. Silus was held by the beauty for a moment.
Odo interrupted his reverie.
‘Your friend doesn’t like me.’
‘Don’t take it personally. He has been held captive and badly treated by Germans for weeks.’
‘Chatti. Not Alamanni.’
‘It’s hard for us to tell the difference sometimes.’
‘Are you talking about our appearance or our sense of honour?’
Silus shook his head, but before he could think of a reply, Odo tapped his arm and pointed.
‘Over there. Movement.’
Silus followed the direction of his outstretched finger and squinted. Then he saw it, cresting some distant hills, a small group of figures. They were too indistinct for him to make out any details.
‘What can you see?’ he asked.
‘A dozen Chatti. Carrying spears. On foot, no horses, no dogs.’
‘Do you think they can see us?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Come on, let’s get out of their sight, and let’s get moving. No time for rest after all.’
They hurried down the scree of the steep slope bordering the rock cliff face and found Atius fast asleep. Silus shook him gently and he woke with a yelp, wide eyes looking around him wildly, panting, before he focused on Silus’ face and he swallowed and regained control.
‘We’ve got company. Two or three miles back, but they must have picked up a trail. We need to get going again.’
Atius grimaced, but got to his feet. ‘I feel completely refreshed,’ he said sardonically. ‘Come on.’
Odo led them on an unpredictable route at a brisk pace. Atius made no word of complaint, but Silus could see the tension in the lines of his face as he fought exhaustion. Silus wondered how long he could continue. Would they reach safety before Atius gave out completely?
Night descended fully, but as they were no longer travelling under the impenetrable canopies of the trees, and there was intermittent moonlight peeking out between gaps in the clouds, they could move more freely than before. They took short breaks for Atius’ sake, though Silus wasn’t complaining about them either. His feet were sore and his calves and shins ached from the constant up and down of the paths through the hills.
When dawn broke, Silus was pleased with how much ground they had covered, and they hadn’t noticed any indication of pursuit.
‘How far from the border now, do you think?’ he asked Odo.
‘Two days’ walk, I would say. But less than that until we are out of Chatti territory.’
‘Will they give up the chase when we leave Chatti lands?’
‘I’m not sure.’
Silus thought about it. Atius was getting slower. They had foraged plenty of food and water on the way, but Atius’ body had taken too much punishment for him to keep up the pace much longer. If they carried on like this, Silus was worried he would end up having to carry him.
‘We go straight,’ he said. ‘No more deviations. We have to hope that we have lost them. Steady pace, not too fast. We’ll try to get out of reach of the Chatti by nightfall.’
Odo nodded agreement.
‘Sounds good,’ said Atius. ‘I’m looking forward to a bath and a drink.’
Silus smiled. That was a bit more like his old friend.
Odo led the way as usual. Silus matched pace with Atius, and tried to take his mind off the ever-present pain from aching muscles and joints with light conversation and reminiscences.
‘Remember that girl in Numidia? The one with the missing front teeth? What did you see in her?’
Atius grinned and Silus’ spirit lifted at the sight.
‘It wasn’t what you could see. It was what she could do when the lamps were out. Let me tell you, that gap in her teeth meant she could do more than just whistle.’
Silus laughed. ‘Well, think of all the girls waiting for you in Colonia.’
Atius’ grin disappeared.
‘I’m sort of off girls, I think.’
Silus looked at him in surprise. Then he thought of the little priestess, and he wondered again what Atius had suffered. He suspected the torture had been more mental in Atius’ case, compared to the very obvious and horrific physical torments that Eustachys had been exposed to. What a wreck the priestess had made of that man. Eustachys had known what he was doing. He had no desire to live any further.
The countryside became more populous as they progressed westwards, and they frequently had to circumnavigate farms and small settlements. They kept off the main roads as best they could, and used animal tracks and shepherds’ paths as often as possible to make their way easier. Silus was pleased with how much ground they had covered by the time the sun was past its zenith and beginning its descent.
But as they emerged from a small woodland that afternoon, Odo suddenly stopped and held up his hand. Silus and Atius froze, trying to work out what he had seen. Silus scanned around, then saw it. Movement, behind them and to their left. Nearer than before, maybe just a mile. A small group of warriors, descending a grassy hill.
Should they scurry back into cover? Drop to the ground? Stay still?
The choice became irrelevant when a shout went up from the warriors. Although it was attenuated by distance and wind, it was clearly a shout of recognition and alert.
‘They’ve seen us,’ said Odo. ‘They are pointing our way.’
‘Shit,’ said Silus. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’
They were so close. Refuge was surely not much more than a day away. But it might as well have been in India. There was no way they could reach it, no possibility of outrunning their pursuers with Atius in his current condition. They had no horses. Silus had considered stealing some, but they would have been useless over much of the terrain they’d had to traverse. They couldn’t hide. The woodland they had just emerged from was too small – the warriors would search it and find them swiftly.
He looked at Atius, despairingly.
‘Leave me,’ said Atius.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You have a chance of outrunning
them without me. With me, you have no chance. Go. There is no time for discussion.’
Silus looked at him in incomprehension.
‘Have you gone mad?’
‘Leave me the spear. I’ll slow them down. But I won’t let them take me alive. Not again.’
Silus slapped him, open-handed but forceful, leaving a red mark on Atius’ cheek. Atius put his hand to his face in open-mouthed shock.
‘I left retirement for you. I left Tituria behind. I sailed across the sea, rode over land to Germania, tracked you through barbarian lands, was captured. For you! Do you think I would leave you behind now?’
Atius shook his head. ‘You’re so fucking stupid, Silus.’
‘That has been pointed out before.’
Atius grinned. ‘Fine, let’s see how far we get. And when they catch us, we fight. But I mean it, Silus. I won’t be taken prisoner. And I suggest you don’t let them take you either.’
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it.’
Silus turned to Odo. The young lad was looking anxiously at the warriors, who were already closing the gap as they hurried towards him.
‘Boy, you have done your job well. You have upheld your oath. You rescued us. Now I release you. You don’t have to die with us. Flee, get to safety. Go and tell Oclatinius what happened here.’
Odo looked grave. He held out his hand, and Silus shook it.
‘You’re a good man, Silus,’ he said. Then he turned and ran. Silus and Atius watched him go for a moment, haring at speed across the landscape.
‘Come on,’ Silus said to Atius, and they started off at a pace that was half walk, half jog.
Silus wondered if they should save some energy for the inevitable fight when the Chatti warriors caught them, then decided it really didn’t matter either way. A sense of inevitability had come over him, and with it, a sense of peace. If he had to die, doing so in combat, with his friend by his side, was not the worst way. Dying in captivity, tortured by barbarians bent on vengeance. That was a bad death. He considered the spear in his hand, whether he would be able to turn it on himself somehow when the time came. He supposed he would use it on Atius first, then brace it on the ground and fall on it, like Romans traditionally did with their swords, although its length would be problematic. Another bridge to cross when he came to it.
