Agent of Rome: The Far Shore

by Brown, Nick

  ‘First, to the mansion!’ ordered Carnifex, his voice steady. He slipped his dagger from its sheath and held it under Cassius’s chin. ‘Up, grain man.’

  Cassius got to his feet.

  ‘And you over here, One Ear!’ added Carnifex. ‘You ain’t going anywhere.’

  With a despairing glance at Eborius, Indavara ran back to the edge of the pit, tying his belt on the way. As the rest of the First Century flooded past them, Mutilus and another man reached down and pulled him up.

  Carnifex pushed Annia into Procyon’s arms. ‘Those two try anything, slit her throat. All of you, move!’

  As he ran, Cassius looked up at the ridge. Eborius had disappeared.

  XXIX

  Cassius almost collided with a legionary. In avoiding him, he somehow tripped over his own feet but a steadying hand grabbed his arm. Indavara came up beside him as they bolted along the side of the barracks.

  Despite the weight of their shields and armour, the quickest of Carnifex’s men were already crossing the road. Suddenly, the mansion gate swung shut in front of them. Cassius saw the long-haired Sulli lock it, then hold up the key, mocking the legionaries as he withdrew. He escaped through the grounds, accompanied by some of the male servants.

  The thunder of the horses seemed to envelop the trapped Romans, echoing off the walls of the mansion and barracks. Hundreds of Maseene surged up from the plain, their ranks spread far beyond the width of the road. Their unsaddled mounts were small and lithe, galloping across the ground at tremendous speed. Most of the barefoot warriors had circular shields strapped to their right arms and daggers on their left wrists. They hunched forward on their mounts, one hand on their reins, one gripping their javelins, long black hair streaming out behind them.

  As he and Indavara passed the end of the barracks, Cassius found himself in the middle of Carnifex’s men. Some were still trying to force the gate open, while others looked around desperately for another way out. Cassius was surprised to see Eborius’s men retreating south along the road towards them. Beyond were dozens more Maseene, urging their horses forward at a trot, corralling the Romans towards the main force.

  Cassius listened in to Carnifex.

  ‘Trying to run us down while we’re strung out. They won’t be half so keen on a stand-up fight.’

  Cassius felt a hand grip his tunic and pull him to a halt. Mutilus took hold of Indavara, sword already drawn.

  ‘Barracks?’ said Procyon.

  ‘Too late for that,’ replied Carnifex as he stopped in the middle of the road.

  ‘First!’ he bellowed. ‘Gather here!’

  Even the legionaries pressed up against the gate instantly ran back to the centurion. Carnifex grabbed the nearest man, turned him towards the advancing tribesmen and slammed his shield into the ground. ‘Form the line here between the mansion wall and the barracks.’

  He then looked north up the road, seemingly unconcerned about Eborius and his men. ‘A third of you take ten paces that way and do the same there. Go!’

  Carnifex turned to Mutilus and pointed at the wall. ‘Dump those two there. Procyon, keep that girl close.’

  Mutilus waited for the soldiers to pass, then pushed Cassius and Indavara across the road.

  The first row of men in Carnifex’s southern rank planted their shields and shuffled sideways to form an even line. Despite the onrushing Maseene, they moved calmly and efficiently and communicated with quiet words and gestures. One last legionary nipped between the end of the shield wall and the mansion wall, then the gap was closed.

  ‘Interlock!’ ordered Carnifex. ‘Anyone with a spear, get it over the top and ready.’

  Carnifex pulled on his helmet as he stalked up the road across the ten-yard square formed by the two lines of troops and the walls of the mansion and barracks.

  Eborius’s retreating men were now mixed in with those of the First Century. One man took exception to this, pushing a legionary from the Second Century away with his shield, but Eborius aimed his sword at the aggressor. ‘You got a problem, you can settle it with me when this is done.’

  ‘Couldn’t have said it better myself,’ interjected Carnifex. ‘Take command of your line, Centurion. Let’s see if you really have finally grown a pair of balls.’

  Eborius snatched another look at the advancing tribesmen and gave a grim nod.

  ‘Oh, and watch your back,’ added Carnifex.

  ‘Anyone with a bow, second rank,’ ordered Eborius. ‘Everyone else behind a shield.’

  Procyon crouched down with Annia, close to the southern line. Mutilus coaxed Cassius and Indavara further to the right and shoved them down on the ground by the mansion wall.

  ‘Remember who’s got your girlfriend,’ he said, pointing at Procyon. When he saw they were watching, the other optio tapped his dagger blade against Annia’s cheek. Mutilus hurried back to join Carnifex.

  Cassius got up on his knees and watched as the Maseene on both sides slowed their mounts. With the Romans spread out and disorganised they would easily have held the advantage, but Carnifex had taken only a few moments to give Darnis’s divided garrison a fighting chance. Eborius had fewer men on his side, fifty at the most, but he faced the lesser force – no more than a hundred.

  Cassius put a hand on Indavara’s shoulder. ‘Fortuna must be on your side. Surely not even you could kill a lion with a belt buckle.’

  Instead of replying, Indavara grabbed Cassius’s tunic and dragged him back against the wall. A long javelin landed in the muddy ground where Cassius’s legs had been.

  ‘Gods. Thanks.’

  The weapon’s shaft was still wobbling when Indavara pulled it out. He looked along the wall but Procyon had already seen him. The optio shook his head like a parent admonishing a child. Indavara threw the javelin away. ‘We have to get her away from him.’

  Two more javelins landed close by. Another struck the wall above them and fell harmlessly into Cassius’s lap. He put it down by his side where Procyon couldn’t see it. The Maseene weapons were different to the army’s shorter, metal javelins; the shaft was wood, and they were as tall as a man, with a broad-bladed iron head.

  Soon dozens of the javelins were raining down on the Romans. Most of them thudded into the hide covers and planking of the shields, but a few found their way through. Two cries went up from the northern line and one legionary without a helmet staggered backwards, hand gripping his face. Cassius squeezed back against the wall and followed Indavara’s example, bowing his head and covering it with his arms.

  ‘Second rank!’ shouted Carnifex, now crouching behind his men. ‘Turn and put your shields up. Now they’ll hit us in the back.’

  Having made little impact on the first rank, the Maseene lengthened their range precisely as Carnifex had predicted. There were far fewer shields on Eborius’s side and three men at the rear were struck immediately.

  One unfortunate fell just yards from Cassius. The javelin had somehow found its way through the panels of his plate armour and into his flank. Lying on his side, he bit down so hard that his teeth sank deep into his bottom lip.

  Javelins now littered the section of road between the Roman lines.

  ‘Steady there, lads,’ shouted Carnifex as he buckled his chinstrap. ‘There won’t be many more. They usually carry three to a man and they’ll keep one in hand for later.’

  Moments later, the hail of javelins petered out.

  ‘Coming forward, sir!’ another man told the centurion. ‘Still on horseback.’

  ‘I can hear that. Don’t fret – those desert nags’ll start getting nervous soon.’

  Carnifex checked on the situation to the north, where the horsemen were also closing in. The legionaries on both sides were virtually silent. Maseene voices yelled what sounded like a mixture of instruction and encouragement.

  ‘Still coming forward, sir,’ said Mutilus. ‘Hundred feet.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Carnifex. He pulled a man out of the line and ordered him to collect up some of the ja
velins.

  ‘Dismounting, sir,’ said Mutilus.

  ‘Archers to the north,’ shouted Carnifex. ‘Wait until they’re good and close.’

  Eborius – keeping his big frame hidden behind two shields – turned and looked at Carnifex. The old centurion gave him a wolfish grin.

  Cassius and Indavara got up on their knees again. The Maseene were forming a dense attacking line, leaving perhaps a fifth of their number at the rear to take charge of the mounts. At a shouted signal the tribesmen on both sides jabbed their javelins into the air three times. At a second shout they unleashed a long, piercing war cry. Their march towards the Romans became a run.

  ‘You got a spear or a sword, protect your shield-man,’ ordered Carnifex.

  Closer to Cassius and Indavara, Noster drew his bow and aimed it over the crouching men who formed the first line. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Wait.’

  Eborius watched the advancing warriors, his dark face slick with sweat beneath his helmet.

  ‘Sir?’ repeated Noster.

  When Eborius’s order finally came, it was a full-blooded shout. ‘Loose!’

  Twenty bowstrings snapped tight and as many screams went up from the Maseene line. Noster and the others reached for their next arrow.

  ‘Keep those shields together!’ ordered Carnifex, making adjustments where the row of legionaries curved slightly to join up with the corner of the barracks.

  The Maseene slowed as they reached the shield walls. Though some had swords strapped to their belts or the little daggers ready at their forearms, almost all attacked with javelins, jabbing over the tops of the shields. The legionaries behind them stayed low, solely occupied with keeping the barrier in place. The second rank did as Carnifex had instructed, hacking at any well-aimed javelins with their swords.

  Despite the numbing din of grunts and shouts and the clash of metal and wood, Cassius saw that the southern line was swiftly settling into a stalemate. The outnumbered Romans couldn’t advance but the lightly armed Maseene couldn’t break through Carnifex’s immaculate line. The two sides would keep at each other until fatigue set in or a breach was made.

  Eborius’s men were faring better. With a smaller force attacking them – and no more thrown javelins to worry about – the archers were able to pick their targets. Without a single piece of armour between them, Maseene were falling one after the other.

  ‘They should withdraw,’ said Cassius.

  ‘Not likely,’ replied Indavara. ‘Look at their faces.’

  Cassius had seen such wild-eyed fury before and he knew these men had more reason to despise Rome than any Palmyran warrior.

  Eborius swung his long blade and chopped the end off a Maseene javelin, then ducked down to survey his line. Satisfied that they were more than holding their own, he turned and looked at Carnifex, who had stopped next to the pile of javelins collected by the legionary. Bent almost double, Eborius then moved left along the line to Noster, who was drawing an arrow from his quiver. He spoke a few words into the veteran’s ear, then returned to the fray, discouraging the Maseene with more broad sweeps of his sword.

  ‘Centurion!’ came a desperate shout from the First Century. A group of Maseene three or four deep had clustered close to the centre of the southern line and some of the massed javelin thrusts were starting to tell. Two legionaries were already on the ground and in moments two more fell back. Others moved quickly to take up their shields but the line was looking vulnerable.

  Carnifex, still with sword undrawn, picked up two of the Maseene javelins and ordered the legionary to follow with the rest. Crouching low, he ran to the over-pressed section. Weighing one of the weapons in his hand, he suddenly stood up straight and flung the javelin over the top of a shield. Cassius saw two arms fly up and heard an agonised shriek. Carnifex crouched over once more and took five steps to his left. He popped up again and let fly, this time hitting another unprotected warrior in the face. The legionary passed him more javelins and on he went, never appearing in the same place twice, always finding a target. In moments, he had taken out ten of the enemy and the pressure on the shield wall had been relieved. Carnifex pulled a canteen off Mutilus’s belt and took a drink.

  With a nudge from Indavara, Cassius turned to see Noster kneeling close by. The legionary faced away from them as he spoke, towards the barracks. ‘See the window? If you can get inside you can get away. Make for the bridge. We’ll follow if we can.’

  Noster dropped the bow and quiver close to Indavara. Drawing his sword, he nodded subtly at Procyon. ‘For him.’

  Procyon hadn’t noticed the conversation. He was watching the southern line.

  As Noster returned to the battle, Cassius looked across at the barracks – the window was big enough and low enough. He leaned back to cover Indavara as the bodyguard took an arrow from the quiver and set it against the string. He pulled it halfway back, then looked over Cassius’s shoulder along the wall.

  ‘She’s in front of him.’

  Annia was indeed blocking the optio, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to even acknowledge what was going on around her. Procyon still had his left arm round her neck but was preoccupied with the fighting.

  ‘Over here, over here,’ Cassius said, though he knew she couldn’t hear him over the noise.

  ‘Corbulo – someone’s going to see.’

  ‘I know.’

  Over here, over here.

  She looked at him.

  Cassius checked that Carnifex and Mutilus weren’t watching, then motioned towards the ground. Annia seemed confused, but Cassius leant forward and she saw what they intended. Covering her eyes again, she bowed her head.

  ‘Forward a little more,’ said Indavara, bringing the bow up behind Cassius’s back.

  ‘If I hit him, grab her and run for the window,’ he added. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

  Cassius felt Indavara tense as he drew the bowstring.

  Procyon’s head snapped forward as the bolt punched into the back of his skull. Annia took her hands from her eyes and bumped her head on the shaft of the arrow. Cassius looked across at Carnifex again. He had just unleashed his next javelin.

  Indavara slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Now.’

  Cassius hauled himself to his feet and ran along the wall. Annia was already up but staring at the arrow sticking out of the inert Procyon. Cassius grabbed her hand.

  ‘Go!’ hissed Indavara, just a few paces behind.

  Cassius sprinted towards the barracks, Annia in tow. They passed within yards of Carnifex’s back, but like all the others in the line, he was completely focused on the enemy. Once past him, Cassius didn’t dare look back. It seemed to take an age to reach the window – and at every pace he expected some cry from behind them – but finally they were there.

  ‘Inside!’

  Without any help from Cassius, Annia climbed up on to the ledge and dropped adroitly into the barracks. Cassius turned and saw Indavara jogging backwards towards him, another arrow at the ready. Cassius got his hands on the ledge and hoisted a leg up. Annia was lying on the floor directly below, so he leapt past her and landed in the cool, murky interior. The two of them looked around; they were surrounded by bunk beds.

  Indavara never knew what made Carnifex turn from the line but he was glad he hadn’t taken his eyes off him. Seeing his dead optio, Carnifex spun round to face the barracks. Indavara already had the bow up and drawn. He aimed at Carnifex’s throat. The old centurion saw him just as he let fly.

  Carnifex bent his head to protect his face but the arrow was six inches low anyway. It hit the bronze cuirass with a dull crack and dropped to the ground. Carnifex’s head came back up. He took two steps forward and picked up the nearest javelin.

  ‘Shit.’

  Indavara turned and threw himself through the window, dropping to the floor between Annia and Cassius.

  The javelin landed between Cassius’s thighs, tearing through his tunic and pinning him to the floor. Indavara yanked it out and
handed it to him. ‘What are you waiting for?’

  With the bow still in one hand and the quiver over his shoulder, he dragged Annia to her feet and bolted out of the little room. By the time they reached the other end of the barracks, the sounds of the battle had faded.

  ‘Anyone following?’ asked Indavara.

  Cassius looked back. ‘No.’

  He joined Indavara at a doorway. To the right was the ridge that bordered the pit; directly ahead was a meadow of high grass.

  ‘Horses,’ said Indavara. ‘Eborius and his men must have tethered theirs close by.’

  ‘No,’ said Cassius. ‘Mounts will draw too much attention. We get in that grass and we’re as safe as we’ll be anywhere. We can work our way north towards the bridge.’

  Annia, who had been crouching low, suddenly dropped down on her backside.

  Indavara still had hold of her hand. ‘Get up.’

  Cassius knelt down beside her.

  Indavara let go, retreated into the barracks and looked back down the corridor. ‘Corbulo, we have moments if we’re lucky—’

  ‘I know.’

  Cassius tipped Annia’s chin up. Her eyes were glassy, vacant. ‘Annia, we have to go. You need to get up. Can you do that?’

  Another chilling shriek from the battle.

  Annia squeezed her eyes together.

  ‘Corbulo—’

  Cassius put his hands under her arms and helped her to her feet.

  Indavara moved back to the doorway. He checked left, then right.

  ‘We’re clear. You first.’

  Cassius took Annia’s hand and ran out of the barracks towards the meadow.

  XXX

  Simo, Clara and the sailors watched it all. First, the crowd that had gathered in the square dispersed. Then, over the next two hours, most of the townspeople returned, driving carts or on horseback, tripling the size of the column. And when some soldiers also joined the group, they finally set off west along the Via Cyrenaica. Simo was relieved to note there were only a dozen or so legionaries. He felt sure Noster had managed to change the centurion’s mind; that Eborius and the rest of his men were searching for Cassius and the others.