by Bilinmeyen
Last of all, there was a man with two swords, the one who had spoken.
There was the gladiator, Istros, with his two swords out. His eyes glinted evilly. “I hear you were looking for me. I hear you fought a cousin of mine. Did he die well?”
I felt Cassia grasp a pugio from my belt. Mathildis stepped next to her, shedding her palla, and both went to the corner behind me. The pond was stirring in wind between us, and the enemy, as if spirits, were waiting for some of us to join them.
My heart was hammering in my chest. I had led them straight to my wife and child.
Wandal and Tudrus pulled swords and flanked me as I grasped Nightbright. Brimwulf moved to my right to cover the girls, his face grim. Agetan and Bohscyld spat, growled, and stood next to each other, to the left of me.
“I said, were you looking for me, friend?” Istros asked. “No, don’t answer. I have another one. You just tell me this. Where are the scrolls? Tell me this, and I’ll spare the girls.” He pointed at them with his gladius, and I cursed him.
“They were taken, Istros, by people who serve the same mistress as you do,” I spat. “You murdering scum. But, Livia was right.”
“In what?” he asked with a smirk, as his men spread around the pond. Spears, swords, daggers, and axes glittered, and some had shields.
“That you are nothing more than tools, near worthless when spent,” I said. “We’ll break you.” I didn’t feel confident in my words, not at all.
He chortled. “If only you knew the irony of those words, Germani. If only you knew.” He shook his head. “For my clansman, for my orders. Say your prayers as you die.”
The men charged brutally fast.
Water splashed as they rushed the pond’s banks. They were grinning, and steel flashed as they came at us from all directions. Wandal screamed a challenge as his forearm blocked a spear, and he stabbed a man into his chest, and then another into shoulder, pulling and sawing the blade so it ripped out of the flesh. Two men pummeled into him, daggers flashing, and they fell in a heap of flying fists, blades, and water, as they pushed over an urn. Agetan stabbed swiftly at one enemy, who blocked, and Tudrus intercepted a man coming for Agetan with a short spear. He killed the man with a stab into his side.
Two men charged Bohscyld and Brimwulf, even more Wandal and Agetan, one kicking Tudrus to the side. Others rushed for me, their caligae slapping with determination as they came forward.
Woden helped me in the desperate place. His figure was stamping the shadowy ground ferociously, his dance making my blood boil with anger. I screamed my defiance at the grim faces before me. They were killers, many well-versed in battle, but also cocky, and they came at me relentlessly. I dodged and grabbed a second blade from a fallen man’s hand, and kept it pointed at the first man who came at me. He slid aside, and tried to get to my back as another leaped at me with a spear.
I rushed past the spear and hacked at him wildly. I hit his shoulder, and stepped aside, nearly falling, as the man near my back attacked. The blade sliced open my sleeve, and I brawled him to the wall, and stabbed his belly, wounding him terribly, before I had to rush to save the girls. A man was bleeding and aiming a dagger at Mathildis.
I surged, but Brimwulf crashed into him, stabbing wildly with daggers, blood flying from both men.
Shield, I will never leave home without a shield, I cursed in my head, horrified by what was taking place.
I stabbed the sword at the man I had wounded in the shoulder, who, bloodied but recovered, tried to strike me with his spear again. I pierced his chest, but his blade snaked through my two swords and wounded my chest. I roared and stabbed, and the blade I had grabbed from the fallen enemy got stuck in his side.
He fell, taking the sword with him as he spewed blood in an arc, and I hacked Nightbright at two more men coming for me, one short and one tall.
It was a brawl, mad and deadly.
I was keeping one at bay, stabbing away with my blade at the short one until I hit his face. He came back, but I attacked a tall man, and sliced at his hand, leaving him gasping. The short one surged past me, bleeding from face, and tried to kill Brimwulf, or Bohscyld, who were struggling with muscle laden, powerful enemies. I grabbed the man by his tunic, pulled him around, and rammed the blade up for his throat. He took the blade in his eye instead, and fell away. The tall one slunk away as I roared, but two more men attacked me. I missed a parry, and dodged right into a kick.
I fell on my back.
Right next to me, Bohscyld was howling as a spear struck his leg. Agetan bellowed a challenge in defiance, and Tudrus was stabbing at one man who had tried to get to Brimwulf’s back.
While on my back, I rolled and stabbed at Bohscyld’s attacker, who was pushing the big man onto his back. The man gasped, and cried, and crawled away fast as a crab, bleeding. I felt a stab into my back, and sobbed with pain, the blade was stopped by a rib. The next hit would not be stopped.
I saw a darting shadow, heard a woman scream a challenge, and I saw Mathildis was there.
She was pushing a dagger ineffectually at the assailant in my back. Cassia was near, holding a pugio, her face brave, but she was exhausted. I saw Wandal struggling with his two opponents, bleeding from a ghastly wound in his scalp.
It was a butchery.
I kicked at the closest man, snapping something in his knee.
I roared in my rage, and stabbed up, eviscerating the man whom Mathildis tried to kill, but I took a wound on my shoulder from a long spear held by a totally dark-skinned man. I hung onto his spear, and he accidentally pulled me to my feet as he tried to retreat. He dropped the spear, pulled a gladius, and I crossed swords with him, sparks flying. He was fast and as enraged as I was. He pushed me to the wall, his blade scraping at my shoulder, and then it was coming for my throat, but Mathildis, pregnant and brave girl, again helped, and charged him from the side, sticking him in the skull with the dagger, killing him with one strike. She yelled her victory bravely and turned to help Brimwulf and wounded Bohscyld.
I turned to help Wandal.
Istros appeared.
His figure flashed before me. I felt a blow to my face, and saw how he pushed Mathildis down, and went for Brimwulf’s back. The blade flashed, the Snake struck, and my friend gasped, grasped for his back, his eyes turned white with pain, and he fell on his face.
I stared at my dying friend and turned to kill the man. I screamed, but Mathildis, enraged at the death of her man, hurled herself at him first.
He pushed her casually aside, and there, Mathildis fell into the arms of a huge, wounded man.
Ulrich. He looked me straight in the eye and cut her throat, and pushed her to the pond.
Tudrus roared his rage.
He swung his blade at one, stubborn man who was hanging on to his foot. Ulrich was taking steps back, terribly wounded from the earlier battle, but Istros was not going anywhere. Tudrus and I charged the man together, both dripping blood. Istros grinned, spat and danced forward, and punched his blades at both of us. One blade flashed into my blade, and the other missed Tudrus’s clumsy block, and sunk into the chest of the Quadi, whose handsome face distorted with disbelief and pain.
Wandal screamed defiance and killed a struggling man under him. His scalp was slashed, his lip open, face bloodied red. “Kill him, Hraban!” he screamed, as he crushed a skull of the other assailant in the floor so hard the brains dripped out.
My blade stabbed at Istros. Sparks flew, as he parried. I slapped at his blade, then the other, taking a wound on my forearm, and Nightbright carved into his chest. His face was shocked as I had no tactic, nor skill, only an animal-like wish to hack him into spit-sized pieces. His chest bled, and a blade fell from one of his hands. Like with his cousin, I was close, and I kicked him in the balls, and slashed the blade across his skull. He howled, flesh and skin flapping, and rolled away. I fell forward, slipping on blood, next to Bohscyld who was pulling himself up.
Istros stood before Cassia.
The slave cu
r glanced my way, his mouth twisting cruelly under the dripping blood, and the blade flashed.
Cassia screamed and fell aside, and the blade cut to her shoulder, instead of her throat. She went down, and slashed with her pugio wildly, drawing blood from the man’s thigh. The man gasped with pain, I roared my anger at the bastard, and nearly died, as another man charged me from the side, pushing me to the wall.
Agetan appeared and impaled him.
I bounced from the wall, Istros hesitated, looked around, cursed thickly, and ran past the pond for the servant’s corridor. I roared and staggered after him to the dark place. In the shadows, I felt blade coming, and it drew blood from my arm and thigh. I punched Nightbright at the dark mass. He yelled with pain, surged forward into me, and we slammed to a pillar. I felt him struggle, panting over me, and I growled and pushed back at him.
He jumped away, fast as a snake.
Our blades stabbed at the same time.
I felt burning pain, something ripping into my belly, and I saw black. He shuddered with agony on Nightbright, cried, pulled off, and disappeared. I started after him, unsteady on my feet, but heard Wandal screaming.
“Hrabaaan!” he screamed. “We need a doctor!”
Cassia.
I turned and rushed for her. She was shuddering with pain. The wound on her shoulder was deep and filled with red, oozing blood. Brimwulf and Mathildis were dead, it was clear. The valiant archer was lying in a pool of dark blood, and the girl was face down in the pool. I wiped blood from my face, and saw Tudrus was not moving, his face ashen white. Wandal was screaming with pain.
Adalwulf rushed in with guards and vigiles. Surprisingly, I saw Livia’s face appear as she kneeled next to us. She looked at me sternly. “I’ll save her. I’ll try.”
“Thank you,” I sobbed, and saw Wandal crying for gods for help as he held Tudrus.
I held the hand of Cassia, as she bled in Livia’s arms. I grasped Livia’s arm. “Do not call for a man called Ares in the Block. Anyone but him.”
And there, I passed out, and nearly died.
CHAPTER 16
The fourth guarded us. We were healing in Maecenas’s domus. Brimwulf and Mathildis had been buried by the Guard, each man of the fourth taking part in the costs for the stones they laid together in a graveyard near the Block, by a pyramid catacomb of some famous man. They would sleep in his shadow, and we would go and pour them wine on their grave.
I didn’t take part in the funeral.
Neither did Bohscyld, whose leg was infected. Agetan did, and Wandal, though he had a long wound on his forehead, and had nearly bled out from a stab wound in his side. Tudrus was laying in the room next to us, weak as a kitten, and mostly silent, as if a corpse with no spirit. Occasionally, his screams echoed in the house, waking me from my slow, healing slumber. Cassia slept next to me, her wound a terrible one.
I remember Gisil there, giving me drink. I remembered Livia, occasionally, speaking with me softly, but what they spoke of, and what they asked me, I could not remember. I could only remember weeping and answering, horrified by what had happened.
Antius. Julia’s killer had nearly killed us all. He had killed the best of us.
I had nearly died.
Over a month, the wound in my belly festered. It was oozing puss, it was red and raw, and the fever nearly took me many times.
Then, one day, I woke up, weak as a kitten.
Gisil was there, sitting next to Cassia, who was pale, but alive. Her arm was bandaged, and she had a sling. Gisil looked at me with an unreadable expression. I gasped, felt pains all over my body and tried to get up. It made it all worse. Gisil was shaking her head.
Cassia swung her legs from her bed and smiled at me gently. “Hraban?” She got to her knees, making her way closer to my bedside. Her face was serious.
“The boy?” I whispered, terrified by my many nightmares, where he, too, had been killed, drowned in the pool by Ulrich.
“He lives. They never got up here,” she said. “Flower hid him.” I turned to look at the deaf and mute girl, who smiled gently at me from a doorway. Gisil waved her on her way, and she bowed and ran off.
“Istros?” I growled. “Ulrich?”
“Lost, nobody’s seen them,” she said savagely. “Perhaps they died?”
“I want to see their faces,” I cursed. “Dead, ugly faces. They followed us right in here.”
“They killed other guards in the Palatine as well. It was terrible day. I hope it bodes no evil to our son’s future.” She wiped a tear from her eye and nodded bravely. “Gods play tricks on us. We must but endure.” She moved her arm weakly. “It works. But, it’s not going to be as good as it was.”
I nodded, loathing, rage, and fear ripping at my innards. I felt tears come. “Mathildis.”
“She died like a warrior,” she answered. “And Brimwulf. I’ve rarely seen a braver man.”
We sat there, holding hands, tears dropping. I looked around, and sensed the house was silent. I gathered my bravery and asked the question. “Did anyone else die?”
She shrugged and took a ragged breath. “Tudrus is not out of it yet. And Bohscyld will have a bit of a limp. Agetan and Wandal aren’t as pretty as they were.”
I nodded, rubbing my face. Men die. It is the way of things, but I had failed to protect them. I heard footsteps and tensed. Then, I heard a cry.
Cassia smiled. “He is very healthy, Hraban. Gisil’s been helping. She has been happy to.”
“He is a beautiful boy,” the woman said with a smile, and I heard Flower’s steps close by. I tried to get up, but couldn’t. I was aching all over, and there was a stabbing pain in my back and belly. I fell back, and Flower appeared, as she presented a boy with very dark hair and strong limbs to Cassia.
I thanked the gods.
I had a healthy boy.
“He wasn’t reluctant to come to us,” Gisil said, and took the baby from Flower, coming to me and hesitating.
Us? I frowned. “Can I hold him?”
“You are bleeding,” she said and shook her head. “I’ll look into it later. You should hold him, yes.”
“Thank you,” I said as the boy, swathed in white linen, was handed to Cassia, who kissed him. Then she put him to my lap.
“We helped her through it well enough,” Gisil said sadly. “Mine were much harder births, and they don’t all end well. He is strong and healthy, Hraban. Eats like a horse. Shat an hour after birth. Everything works. He is … lovely.” There was a tear filled look in her eyes, and she nodded at me as I touched some surprisingly dark and strong hair on top of his head. I put my hands around him, and his hands and feet pumped, as if he was greeting me, though, in truth, he was just startled.
His tiny face, wrinkled skin, and small smile made my lips curve upward. There were men, Antius and Ulrich and even Grim, waiting to kill us, and Julia would be hiding, probably enraged at what had happened and how we all still lived. There would be some shady, dangerous man somewhere coordinating it all.
We had been whipped.
But, now, with the boy, I had a reason to fight harder. If I had been wiser, he might not be in such a grave danger. I held the boy, and felt terrible fear in my heart. He had no real allies, thanks to his father. Cassia’s eyes were deep pools of exhaustion, and Gisil looked nervous and fidgeted, apparently hoping to take him away from me.
My failure had put them all in trouble.
“Give him a name,” Gisil said softly.
I smiled at the boy, my belly bleeding on the floor, and I thought he opened his eyes and looked at me sharply. Like a spear.
“Gervas,” I said softly, and kissed him. He curled up instinctively, my beard tickling him, and I wondered how small he was. “Spear.”
“Give him a Roman one as well, Hraban,” Cassia told me many times, and so I did.
“Saturninus,” I told everyone, and so was the boy named after the great god.
Gisil nodded. “He’ll sit in his father’s lap for great many more
times, but you have to rest now, Hraban.”
I ignored her. “News?” I asked gruffly.
Cassia gave me a small frown, and took the baby. She lifted him, her left arm weak, and got up to give him to Gisil, who accepted him carefully. She looked down at me, hesitated, and spoke without looking into my eyes, “Your friends suffered because you went after Livia’s orders. My Adalwulf’s been looking for the fugitives. And the scrolls. You sure you didn’t hide them somewhere?” She nodded at the baby boy. “It could help catch them all. Would make life peaceful once more, with nothing to fear. You don’t have them?”
I shook my head. “Of course I’d know if I had them. No. I really don’t.” I rubbed my face.
There were steps on the stairway. Cassia lifted her head. So did Gisil. The latter nodded towards the hallway, and Cassia bent to give me a kiss. She got up with difficulty and walked after Gisil, cooing to the baby. I was frowning, until I heard them go silent, steps coming closer, and Adalwulf appeared. His eyes were devoid of emotion, and he nodded at me. Another figure appeared, and it was Livia.
Her eyes were red rimmed, her hands shaking, and I feared the worst. “Tiberius? Or Antonia—”
She shook her head sadly. “No. They are all well. As far as I can tell.” She waved her hand, and Adalwulf bowed and moved away. She sat nearby in a stool, her back painfully erect. “You nearly died.”
“We lost a lot,” I said bitterly. “A lot.”
She sighed. “And you are to blame for it. Yes, you found out Kleitos. And Antius. But, now, we must think of the future. There are more traitors in the Guard. The third and the fourth still guard the family. Adalwulf has been trying to find these men. But, Rome is huge, and there is little hope of digging them out. But, you, you shall have to think hard on what you wish to do.”
I felt confused and lifted myself a bit higher. “Is there a duty to be had? My only true value to you was in her bed.”
