Valerius remembered the haunted look in Serpentius’s eyes as he’d recounted the horrors he’d suffered in the bowels of the earth after he’d been condemned. The Spaniard had vowed never to go underground again. It made the decision easier.
‘It only takes one to pick up the papers from Nepos. If you can get me to the mine I’ll go in alone.’
‘No.’ The Spaniard’s voice took on new determination. ‘Anything could be waiting down there. You said yourself you need someone to cover your back.’
‘My trusty right hand.’ Valerius shot him a wry smile, relieved, but not surprised. ‘You think this may be a trap?’
‘Does it make any difference if it is?’ Serpentius shrugged. ‘We don’t have any choice if we want those papers and that’s why you’re here. Why Petronius was here. That’s another reason why I’ll go with you. I owe him a debt.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘In a way it makes sense for Nepos to choose a mine. You told him to pick somewhere he felt safe. He knows those tunnels the way you know every olive grove on your estate. Even the simplest mine is like the labyrinth that fellow Theseus got himself lost in before he killed his bull. Maybe Nepos has planned in extra galleries and shafts only he and the miners know about? If anything goes wrong he could just disappear and find his way back to the entrance while we’re stumbling around in the dark.’
‘You make it sound like my worst nightmare.’
The Spaniard studied him seriously. ‘If things go wrong down there it’ll make that night fight outside Cremona seem like a cosy Saturnalia feast, but if we want to make the meeting we should leave now.’
They took time over their preparations. ‘You’ll need a thick cloak because it can be cold in the mines at night,’ Serpentius warned, ‘especially when you’re down in the deepest sections. It’ll keep the rats off, too. Make sure you don’t get bitten. They survive on rotting food and dying men’s shit and their bite is as fatal as a cobra’s.’ Torches, spare flints and iron, food enough for three days and swords concealed in the packs rolled behind their saddles. They would travel as master and servant as they’d done so often before, but they had to accept their identities would have been circulated. Valerius would wear his cloak at all times to conceal his distinctive wooden fist.
They used what was left of the day to make their way out of the mountains along the vertiginous hidden tracks Serpentius knew so well. The Spaniard stayed on the alert for Parthian patrols, but they saw few signs of the auxiliary cavalry Allius said caused him so much trouble. When dusk fell they set up camp overlooking the road that connected Asturica Augusta to the Red Hills mines. Two hours later they were back in the saddle and heading west.
‘I know a sheltered gully where we can rest up for the day,’ Serpentius told Valerius as they rode through the darkness. ‘It’s about an hour from the mine. We’ll time our arrival for just before dusk. That should allow us to find a place to take a look at the entrance without being seen.’
Valerius heard unease in his voice that matched his own. ‘The closer we get, the less I like this. It would have been much easier to set up a meeting closer to Asturica.’
‘Not for Nepos, if he is working at the Red Hills mine,’ Serpentius pointed out. ‘The one thing that puzzles me is how he’ll get rid of the guards – the mine where I was held was guarded day and night – and what we’re supposed to do if he can’t do what he claims.’
Valerius tried to recall the details of his visit to the mine with the rotund engineer. ‘They withdraw the tunnellers when the mine is ready for the final stage. If Nepos delays announcing the completion until too late in the day to carry out the flooding, he can justify pulling everyone out overnight.’
‘Did it occur to you that all this might be unnecessary if Julia Fronton can persuade her father to betray his friends?’
‘Yes,’ Valerius said. ‘I’d thought of that. But we can’t take the chance.’
They crept into position as the light began to fade, leaving their horses in a dried-up river bed concealed by trees. The location, in a tumble of grey rocks, gave them an uninterrupted view down to the mouth of the tunnel. Away to their left lay a huddle of wooden barracks which housed the miners and the guards, but they saw no activity in the area of the mine itself.
‘It looks as if Nepos is as good as his word,’ Valerius said.
‘Do you think he’s in there already?’
‘I doubt it. He’ll have supervised the evacuation and followed his workers to the temporary camp. Probably made arrangements for tomorrow. Everything is in place for the final stage of the ruina montium. More likely he’ll wait until it’s full dark.’ Valerius looked to where the crescent moon hung in a sky that had faded from blue to the silver-grey of new ashes. ‘We’ll give him an hour.’
By the time they set off the sky was black as pitch, but the moon’s dull glow allowed Serpentius to follow the route he had marked earlier. Valerius dogged his footsteps a few paces behind, his eyes scanning the gloom around them and his left hand on the hilt of his sword. They hadn’t discussed the possibility of a trap since leaving Avala, but it was never far from his mind. He knew he could rely on Serpentius to provide the vital seconds he needed to be able to react, but experience and speed would count for nothing against overwhelming numbers. The simple truth was that if Nepos had betrayed them they were walking to their deaths. Nothing would change that, but Valerius vowed that he wouldn’t be taken alive. If he crossed the Styx tonight he would not be alone.
They reached the mine entrance without incident, negotiating piles of rocky spoil, and timbers that had been stockpiled to be carried away to the next project. Valerius hesitated in front of the stygian void, but Serpentius drew a great breath and plunged inside. What else could Valerius do but follow him? Inside, they lit one of the torches and their eyes met in the flickering light. Valerius saw rivulets of sweat running down Serpentius’s face and the Spaniard’s gaze held a hint of something close to panic.
‘I’ll lead,’ Valerius said.
‘Just this time,’ Serpentius said with a sickly smile. ‘I’ll cover your back.’
Valerius slipped past and started off down the slope with the torch held out in front of him.
Unseen, outside the mine entrance another torch burst into life with a sudden flare of light.
On the hillside above, a stout figure felt an answering glow of satisfaction as he watched the torch make two short arcs. ‘Both of them.’ Marcus Atilius Melanius smiled. ‘So it worked. You were right, Ferox,’ he said to a cloaked shadow nearby. ‘I was certain Verrens would smell a trap and stay away. But he was too greedy. This time we’ll be rid of them for good. Open the sluice.’
‘Wait,’ Ferox ordered the men around him in the darkness. ‘Give them time to reach the deepest level. Less chance of them being identified if they are down there when the mine goes.’
‘Very well. You know best.’
Ferox waited for the count of five hundred before he gave the order.
‘Now.’
The winding mechanism creaked and soon they could hear water pouring from the gates into the sluice that would carry it with twice the speed of a racing chariot directly into the mouth of the mine.
Where Gaius Valerius Verrens and Serpentius of Avala waited unaware of the fate Melanius had planned for them.
XLI
They made their way down the long passage deeper and deeper into the hill. Without the men working the bellows the air was thick enough to cut with a sword and before they’d gone far they struggled to breathe. Valerius turned to Serpentius. ‘Nepos must have lost his mind to bring us here,’ he gasped.
The Spaniard shook his head. ‘Think on it from his point of view, Valerius. This is his world. He is like a mole, more suited to life burrowing beneath the earth than above it. Safer down here than at any house in Asturica.’
Down another level and into a gallery that must have been recently worked judging by the stench of fresh excrement.
‘It can’t be far,
’ Valerius muttered. ‘We must be almost through to the far side of the hill.’ They reached a vertical shaft and Serpentius held the torch as Valerius climbed one-handed down the rickety ladder into the pit of darkness that was the lowest level of the mine. When Valerius reached the bottom the Spaniard threw the torch down to him and made the descent himself.
The one-handed Roman advanced down the tunnel at the centre of a circle of flickering light. Oddly, the air quality had improved and Serpentius pointed to a dark circle in the roof of the tunnel. ‘Air shaft, thank the gods. Strange to think we’ve travelled what seems like a mile underground, but we can’t be more than thirty feet from the surface. Not that it makes much difference.’
‘Hostilius,’ Valerius called softly. ‘Show yourself. Light a torch so we know where to find you.’
The only reply was the sound of his own voice echoing in the side chambers that had been dug to honeycomb the surrounding rock.
‘He’s frightened. Call again, but louder this time.’
Valerius did as Serpentius suggested. Still no reply.
‘Maybe he’s fallen asleep.’
‘Down here? Did you hear that?’
Valerius froze and stood listening. ‘What?’
‘I heard a scratching sound.’
‘I can’t hear anything.’
‘Listen!’
A sort of fevered scrabbling, accompanied by a low squeal.
‘Hostilius?’ Valerius shouted again.
‘Rats,’ Serpentius corrected him. ‘From the chamber ahead and to your left.’
The Spaniard sounded weary and resigned, and a shudder of dread ran through Valerius.
They advanced warily, not because they expected an ambush, but because of the implications of what they were about to see. Neither had any doubt of the outcome. Yet it had to be checked, Nepos deserved that. There was always the possibility, however unlikely, that he might have fainted for lack of breath, or had some sort of seizure. The incriminating evidence might be on his person. So many mights, but of course the reality was different.
First, they’d stripped Hostilius Nepos naked, then they’d flogged him with a weighted whip that had left his flesh criss-crossed with glaring red weals. Valerius guessed that alone would have been enough to make Hostilius give up what he knew, but it hadn’t been enough for his captors. Once they had their information he must be made to pay.
‘You should have run, Hostilius,’ Valerius whispered as he looked down on what remained of the mining engineer. ‘As soon as Petronius disappeared you should have run away from here and never looked back.’
After the whip had come the heated implements. Fingers removed one by one, the wounds cauterized by the red-hot blade even as they fell. They’d used some kind of clawed tongs to chew great lumps from his flesh, leaving his torso pitted with bloody hollows.
And when they’d inflicted enough pain they’d brought him here still alive, and hacked his arms and legs from his body. The only part of Nepos left unmarked was his plump face, lips drawn back, eyes bulging and teeth bared: a stark portrait of unbearable agony.
All this flashed through Valerius’s mind in less than a dozen racing heartbeats, but Serpentius, with the survival instincts of a feral beast, was already moving. ‘For all the gods’ sake, Valerius. We have to get out of here.’
They raced back along the passage, their legs driven by something not far short of terror, but barely halfway to the ladder Serpentius stumbled to a shaking halt. ‘Mars save us,’ he whispered.
Valerius stood beside him in the flickering light of the torch, his reeling senses trying to make sense of what was happening. What was about to happen. He didn’t have long to wait. They could hear the muffled roar, a kind of muted thunder. The very air around them seemed to change form, accompanied by a sudden pressure on the ears. At the same time the torch flame flared in a way that was beyond natural, something to do with the change in pressure.
Serpentius dropped to his knees, but Valerius hauled him to his feet.
‘If you want to live, think,’ he snarled. They’d faced death before, but never like this. Never so helpless. Valerius remembered the seething flood surging down the hill into the tunnel mouth with all nature’s visceral power behind it. The way the hill had bulged and then erupted as if the very earth was tearing itself to pieces. The gigantic roar and the feeling of being punched. Maybe they should just … No! Tabitha’s face appeared before him. The moment in the Conduit of Hezekiah when he thought he was drowning and she’d laughed at his fear. There had to be a way. Not forward. Not back. Think! ‘This way.’ He was already sprinting back down the tunnel and trusting Serpentius to follow. As he ran he kept his eyes on the roof. Where was it? Venus’ withered tits, please. There! A black shadow less than a pace across and only a foot above his head.
Think. Think.
He dragged off his cloak. ‘Quickly! Wrap the cloaks round my legs.’ He saw the bewilderment and defeat in Serpentius’s eyes. Had terror driven Valerius mad? Valerius knocked the torch from his hands. ‘Just do it if you want to live.’
The Spaniard ripped off his own cloak and bent to do as Valerius ordered. The pressure on their ears was growing now and the thunder almost unbearably loud. They could actually hear the wall of water hammering down the passages above like a runaway chariot, smashing into the turns and rebounding to rush on. It felt as if the whole hill was shaking, but Valerius knew it was only his legs.
He bent and made a support with his left hand and the wooden fist. Serpentius looked up and at last he understood what Valerius intended. ‘Will it work?’
‘Have you any better ideas?’ Valerius snarled. ‘We’ll never know unless we try.’
The truth was he had no idea. Probably not. He only knew it was better to die trying than to await their fate in a trance, like sheep. Serpentius and Valerius had never been sheep, and this was no time to start.
‘Someone dug that out. They must have had some kind of footholds. Find a support and drop your belt and pull me up after you. But for the gods’ sake be quick about it.’
Serpentius nodded convulsively. At the last minute he drew his sword and threw it aside. He used Valerius to boost his way up into the blackened hole. Found a notch that had formed the support for a piece of timber. Squirmed his way further inside, his arms scraping against the crumbling rock.
‘Serpentius!’
He had never heard Valerius’s voice so close to panic. One foot on either side of the shaft, he unhooked his belt and dropped one end down the shaft, half crouching and stretching his arm to get the maximum extension. His body rebelled against the unnatural position, pains shooting through his back from the site of his old wound.
‘Another couple of inches.’
‘I’m not made—’ Serpentius forced himself down another inch, his face rammed hard against the rock face.
‘I have it.’ Valerius roughly tied the belt round the cowhide stock on his right arm. ‘Pull me up.’
Serpentius took the strain and with all his wiry strength hauled Valerius up inch by straining inch. His back felt as if it was breaking and something popped in his shoulder, but still he pulled, eventually managing to get a second hand to the leather strap. The torch below flickered and died and they were left in total darkness.
‘I’m level with your feet,’ came the grating voice from the void below. ‘You’ll have to move up. I can support myself for a few moments on my elbows.’
Serpentius began to squirm upwards, grunting with the pain of his injured arm. He was just getting settled on a new perch when an enormous blast of air rushed past him. A scream of fear from below as Valerius lost his hold and a jerk on the end of the belt almost pulled the arm from its socket. He braced against the shaft wall, ignoring the pain as he hauled Valerius upwards into the shaft. The rush of air was constant now and accompanied by a massive roar that made communication impossible. Valerius slapped him on the leg and he found a new handhold that allowed him to pull himself up another
two or three feet, but the shaft narrowed sharply, the sides already jamming into his shoulders. It was impossible to go any further.
Valerius slapped his foot again, but Serpentius ignored him. There was nothing else they could do, but pray. He tilted his head upwards and saw a single twinkling star in the blackness. Jupiter’s wrinkled scrotum, what wouldn’t he give to be up there now. From what he knew of the process the miners would normally plug the air hole before they unleashed the flood. At least they could breathe. But would it have a positive or negative effect on their precarious grip on life in this claustrophobic rabbit hole of a sanctuary?
The airflow eased and he guessed the cloaks round Valerius’s legs had partially blocked the vent. But the pressure on his ears and from below had increased almost beyond endurance. At times it was so powerful it felt as if Valerius was pushing him upwards and the jagged rocks ground into his shoulders so he gasped with pain.
In the modestly wider gap below, Valerius cursed his friend for refusing to climb any higher. His sandals were two feet at most above the level of the bottom of the shaft, jammed into two tiny crevices. Would it be enough? Already the force of the air from below had almost dislodged him from his position and the roaring filled his mouth, ears and nose and compressed his chest so he found it difficult to breathe. And this was just the beginning. Another incredible noise pushed the roar into the background. A sort of gigantic hiss. It was the sound of the water careening by at enormous speed directly below him. In the time it took to register the fact an enormous crash recorded the moment the inundation reached the barrier of the mine wall. Water forced itself into every cavity of the mine. What had Nepos said about the air being his greatest weapon? As more and more water is forced into the shaft the pressure builds and the air is compressed. Valerius felt that compression now. In an instant the pressure increased a hundredfold so he thought his head was being crushed. He opened his mouth to scream and the force eased slightly so he kept doing it.
A moment later a jet of water forced its way past the bundled cloaks. His battered mind fought for some sort of hold on reality. Do something. He moved his feet to try to close the gaps, but it only made it worse. Water surged up to his knees, but the increase in the saturated cloaks’ weight made them settle and the flow was stemmed bar a few tiny jets. If it hadn’t been for the cloaks they could well have drowned, but within moments Valerius realized drowning might be a mercy. The entire shaft – the entire hill – began to shake like a rat in a terrier’s mouth. Pieces of stone crumbled and broke away so he was showered from above and struggled to maintain the position of his feet on the two niches below.
Saviour of Rome [Gaius Valerius Verrens 7] Page 30
