Vitus nodded at the senior man as they rounded the corner and Domitius’ house came into view. He couldn’t help thinking that if Domitius was taken like his fellow senator, then no amount of training would save him.
Chapter Three
The road was hot and dusty. The seven horses had a foam of sweat on their flanks. The six extraodinarii formed an honour guard around the man they called emperor. Titus set a hard pace, they were less than twenty miles from his legion and the hours they had already travelled chaffed at him. He had been forced into exile by the death of his father and the chance to hear the wind rush past his ears was wonderful but the distance he had been forced to keep from his normal life left a pit of fire and anger in his stomach.
Messengers had arrived two days before to inform him that his legions had landed. They had, according to the dispatch, won a major victory over the Risen. Another reason to hate Otho, to be denied the chance to face the enemy that tore apart his father's empire. The legion had set up camp by the coast and Titus was impatient to join them.
He allowed his mind to wander, ruminating over the day to day problems that faced him. The legions would need feeding in the field. The reports informed him of farms laid to waste by the Risen. Fields of grain would go to waste without farmers and slaves to tend them. Cattle were being consumed by the Risen as quickly as people were. Like a swarm of locusts, they descended on settlements and ate everything that breathed.
It would be in his legion's best interest to send centuries out to find farms that were still intact. They would only need defending long enough for the cattle to be butchered and the grain stores to be emptied. For their loyalty he would allow any families, who volunteered their stores to his legions, to seek safety inside his camp.
Titus’ was dragged from his musings by the voice of one of his extraodinarii, “Sir, behind us!”
Titus swiveled in his saddle and saw with dismay a unit of cavalry behind them on the road. They were too far away to see any details but Titus didn’t need anyone to tell him who had sent the unit after him. He kicked his horse into a gallop and his guard followed suit.
The horses thundered along the straight road but they were not fresh mounts. Titus cursed the pace he had set earlier in the day. He could have taken his time on the journey but his impatience may now have cost him dearly. He glanced behind him, the cavalry unit was gaining, but slowly. He considered having part of his escort stop and face the men behind them but they were out numbered and it would be a futile effort. Better to stay in one group if they could, it increased the chances of his survival.
In the distance, a building rose up over the curve in the land. It was his one chance for safety and he urged his horse to greater speed in an effort to get there. Foam and sweat flew from the muzzle of his mount and the animal was blowing hard. It would not be able to keep up this pace for many more miles.
The distance to the building seemed to take an age to shorten. Fury filled Titus’ mind once more, that he should have spent the last weeks in hiding, only to be taken at the first opportunity, after he broke cover. It could not happen, he wouldn’t allow it. Slowly, very slowly, the sanctuary of the building drew closer.
It looked to be some sort of traveller's inn. As they came closer he could see it was a group of buildings surrounding a courtyard. The seven riders swept into the open gate and were dismounting before the horses had fully stopped.
“Close the gates and bar it!” he shouted to two of his men. They ran to the opening on unstable legs after miles of riding. The following unit were still half a mile away when they locked themselves in.
“The rest of you, head inside and see what we have in the way of defences. Block any windows you can and report back to me,” Titus gave the order and turned back to the two that had closed the gate. “Find a place on the roof to keep a lookout. Keep out of sight if you can. Be ready.”
He watched the two men climb the inner courtyard walls and onto the sloped roof. They lay so that they could just see over the apex.
“How many do you see?” he called up to them.
“Thirty, sir. They look fresh. They must have been lying in wait for you,” the younger of the two men called down. He turned back to the road outside and as he raised his head a spear flew past his ear making him twist and slip down the roof. He held his hand out to stop his decline before he dropped to the courtyard below.
The man cried out as he slid and Titus thought it was a cry of fear. It wasn’t until he felt the hand on the back of his neck that he realized it had been a cry of warning. Titus twisted away from the grip and turned to face a grey and rotting face that snapped a broken jaw at him. The black and bloodshot eyes were too wide as the flesh around them was rotting away.
The Risen lunged at him and he backed away a step further. He had seen the Risen head that had been delivered to his villa but this was the first time he had seen a whole one. It twitched and lurched at him and he stared at it, fixated by its movement. He stepped another pace backward and felt his back meet something that let out a moan as he touched it.
Panic flooded through him as he realized he was caught between the two creatures. He ran across the courtyard and managed to avoid their clutching hands. With space between himself and the two monsters, he drew his sword and cried out for help. The call was answered by a scream from inside the building.
The nearest Risen launched itself through the air at him. He had been warned of the aerial attack and was ready for it, he sidestepped the creature and backhanded his sword toward its head. The stroke was practiced and almost casual but the force was enough to cleave the skull of the undead man almost in two. It dropped to the floor by his feet, dead in the true sense of the word.
The second was getting ready to attack when the cavalryman from the roof dropped to the courtyard with his sword point lowered toward the creature's head. He fell heavily on its back and drove the point downward. The impact knocked the Risen off its feet before the sword could penetrate, however, and the two were sent sprawling across the paved square.
Titus took a second to glance around him before he stepped in and stabbed his blade into the back of the monster's head. He held out a hand to the younger man on the floor and the cavalryman took it in the legionary grip. Titus pulled him to his feet.
“Thank you, that was very brave,” he said and the soldier nodded. As he did, there was a second scream from inside the building to their right. Titus called to the man still on the roof, “What is happening out there?” The lookout took his eyes off the road and called down a reply.
“Sir, they are holding back. I don’t think they expected us to find cover.”
“Very good. Shout if there is any change,” Titus said, he nodded up and signaled for the young man in the courtyard to follow him toward the screams. As they reached the door, Titus saw an arm reach across him to bar the door.
“Please, sir, allow me to go first,” the cavalryman said. Titus nodded and stepped back. From inside, the sounds of a fight were getting more frantic. Titus followed his man into the stone building and a scene of chaos met them. One of Titus’ men was laying on the floor with two Risen crouched over him, face deep in his bloody entrails. Two more were pinned back against a wall with a large overturned table in front of them. The legs of the table were pressed to the wall. Pushed up against the table reaching for the cavalrymen were half a dozen undead.
The two extraodinarii were trying to bring their swords into play but the mass of hands and arms swiping at their faces was restricting their movement. Titus signaled for his man to move around the group of Risen. There were three women and the same number of men. Two of the women looked like serving girls, they wore a form of uniform. One of the men was wearing the left half of his face like a scarf. It had been ripped from above his eyebrow and exposed the skull beneath. It now lay across his throat, held there by blackened, dried blood.
As the younger man found his position, Titus stabbed hard at the nearest foe. At the same t
ime his man forehanded his sword into the Risen nearest him. The creature fell forward as it was struck and the end of the blade caught a second creature in the base of the skull. It too stumbled forward, still. The three remaining Risen did not react to the fall of their fellows.
With three Risen down the men behind the table had more space to move, they slipped from their entrapment and held their swords before them. Titus stepped back, out of the fight and allowed his men to finish the remaining foes. Equal in numbers to the monsters they made short work of the fight.
The three finished the standing Risen and then dispatched the two that fed on their friend. Luckily, the man on the floor was dead. With his insides torn out he should not have been able to live but every man there had seen men survive worse on a battle field. Men that staggered about holding their guts in with bloody hands, or men who survived having their throat cut long enough to take down two more of the enemy.
One of the cavalrymen muttered a short prayer as he knelt next to his friend, then he removed the man's helmet and drove his blade into the dead man’s temple. The way he did it was almost gentle, with infinite care. Titus turned away to give the man one last moment with someone who was obviously his friend.
The incident passed and the men stood and regrouped. The room was large enough for half a dozen men to defend, with small high windows. There was room to swing swords if needs must.
“Where is the final man? I heard a second shout while I was outside,” asked Titus of one of the men he had just rescued.
“Sir, we tried to warn him about splitting up but he said the job would get done quicker.” The man pointed out through the door they had just come through. There was a second door further around the courtyard wall. Titus stepped outside, followed by his men.
“You stay with me,” he said to the cavalryman who had jumped from the roof to save him. “The rest of you see if you can find our missing man. Go easy. We have enough of a fight outside without needing more of one in here.” The three men headed into the second wing of the building, swords in hand.
“What is your name soldier?” he asked the young cavalryman.
“Manius Sergius, Sir. It is an honour to serve you,” the young Equite said with a slight bow of the head.
“Sergius, you saved my life by jumping off that roof, thank you. You are a credit to me and to Rome. When I sit on my father's throne, I want you to come to me and I will honour you.”
Sergius flushed with pride and said, “Thank you, sir.”
The guard up on the roof shouted down to Titus, who heard his name being called from outside the gates.
“Titus, can you hear me traitor?” a strong voice called to him. Titus felt Sergius bristle beside him and rested a hand on the young man's shoulder to steady him. The enemy had the upper hand in all this, the worst thing he and his men could do would be to act rashly.
“I hear you,” he shouted in reply. “Who am I talking to?”
“Centurion Julius Gracus. I’ve been sent here by Emperor Otho to bring you back to Rome. He wants you to answer to the charge of treason.” The man spoke in a reasonable voice but his words were full of menace.
“Go back to your false emperor and tell him I will answer his charges when my legions reach Rome. Tell him I have a charge of murder I wish him to answer for.” While he was talking Titus signaled to Sergius to go up onto the roof and move to the rear of the building in case they were trying to flank them.
The three equites returned from the building's interior and Titus signaled them to be silent.
“I have a second set of orders, traitor. Otho would like you to stand trial but if you won't come quietly, he has ordered me to bring your head back instead. What would you prefer?” Gracus asked with half a laugh in his voice.
“Why don’t your men come in here and find out my answer, centurion?” Titus replied.
“I will give you three hours to think it over. Have an answer ready for me when I come back,” Gracus said and Titus heard the sound of hooves moving away from the building. The guard on the roof signaled that the centurion had moved back to his men.
Titus called up to the man on the roof, “Are all his men with him?” The guard took a moment to count and nodded down to his emperor. Titus turned to the rest of his men. “Report, what do you know?” he asked the three men who had returned.
“Sir, the last man is dead. There is a room at the back of the building. I don’t know what happened, there must have been a party or celebration. There are a lot of people, at least they were people. The room is locked and I’m sure we are safe for now.”
A plan began to formulate in Titus’ mind.
.
Gracus returned early, after only two hours but Titus and his men were ready for him when he did. The horses were ready to run. Five of them had been placed in the inn's stable, which made up one of the four sides that opened up into the courtyard. Two remained out in the courtyard, they had saddles but no bags, they would not be making the journey. The men were tense as Gracus began to talk.
“It’s time, traitor. What is your answer?” he spoke calmly enough but Titus could hear the readiness behind the words.
“I gave you my answer, centurion,” answered Titus. “If you want to come in here I will repeat it for you. Titus looked up to the roof and as expected, the guard signaled that the inn was being surrounded. He used his hands to show that half of the men were mounted and half on foot. Titus nodded, half to attack the building and half to cut off any attempted escape. Let them come, he would be ready for them.
“Do you really want to make me do this, Titus?” the centurion asked him.
Sergius spoke up now. “Call the emperor by his title, you piece of filth.” Titus smiled as the men standing with him cheered the young man’s words. Titus watched one of his men arm sweat from his face, despite the mildness of the day inside the courtyard.
“Very well, Emperor Otho will be disappointed that you forced me to kill you. He was hoping to take you back to Rome and give you one more day in front of the people.”
Titus drew his sword and shouted over the gate. “Enough talking, if you intend to attack then get on with it.”
Titus pointed up onto the roof and a third man joined his two fellow cavalrymen. Titus remained in the courtyard with Sergius. So much now depended on the young soldier but he, above all of them, seemed calm and confident. Titus smiled at the valour of youth.
With no missile weapons between them the fight would be up close and personal. Eight of the attackers carried a makeshift battering ram to the door and all the defenders could do was throw items from the inn at them. A clay pot hit one of the ram team but after an initial stumble he regained his feet and joined his unit.
The ram hit the gate with a crash, the hinges shook. It was not a gate made for defence and it would not take too many hits. The horses brayed at the sounds. These were horses made to fight on the battlefield and the enclosed courtyard seemed to be feeding their fear.
On the roof a fight had broken out between the guards and half a dozen men that were trying to scale the walls. At first the defenders were able to swing at the men as they tried to gain their feet on the roof but three could only defend a large roof for so long. Eventually one, then two men gained their footing and superior numbers began to show. Titus saw his men fight with a fury that made him proud but saw one of his men fall with a gladius slicing deep into his groin. A flood of blood soaked the front of his tunic and the life flowed out of him along with the sticky liquid.
Timing was everything and the time to act had arrived. He shouted to Sergius who saluted and ran to put the plan into action. The cavalryman took the reins of the two loose horses and guided them toward the gate. The sound of crashing came again from the other side.
Titus ran to the back wall of the courtyard. It was a single thickness of stone and had no rooms built onto it. It was the weakest point of the enclosure. His men had spent time preparing the wall and two chains were now attached
to stones in half a dozen places. Titus picked up the chains and ran to the horses as Sergius held them. The chains were attached to the horses and Sergius reached for the lamp that they had laid nearby.
The men on the roof were fighting a losing battle and Titus called for them to retreat down off the roof. Neither man could detach from the fight, however, and Titus had to turn back to the matter at hand. Sergius led the horses toward the gate so that the chains were almost taught. There was about five feet of slack as Titus took the lamp and poured an amount of oil onto the tail of each animal. It hurt his heart to think of damaging such noble animals but they were horses bred for war.
A man fell from the roof onto the stone floor below, he screamed as his leg broke with a snap so loud it could be heard over the sounds of fighting. Titus checked the roof again and saw his remaining two defenders stood back to back, fighting against six attackers. Another of Gracus’ men fell to a well aimed sword point to the throat and he slipped out of sight down the far side of the roof.
Titus lit the remaining oil in the lamp and called to Sergius to be ready. This was the point where they would win or it would all fail. Titus backed away toward the horses in the stable. He mounted one and took the reins of a second. Sitting astride his mount he saw the top hinge of the gate give way and the gate fell into the courtyard, askew.
The men outside continued to batter the gate and it would be a matter of seconds before the flimsy defence would collapse. Titus called to Sergius who released the reigns of the two horses at the very second the gate fell to the floor and men started to pour into the interior. Titus threw the lamp to the floor behind the horses and an explosion of flame licked up towards the rear of the chained mounts. There was a moment when Titus’ horse threatened to throw him from the saddle at the sight of the flames, he fought to control the beast.
Rise and Fall Page 3
