by Kevin Ashman
Dragus looked down at her and for the first time realised how exhausted and bedraggled she looked. Her once white dress was torn and filthy. Her beautiful hair was bedraggled and she smelled of a mixture of sewage and smoke. He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her tear stained face up to look into her eyes. Once again he was transfixed by their piercing beauty and for a second, forgot where and who he was.
‘Dragus?’ she said eventually.
The Centurion blinked and snapped back to reality.
‘Sorry, Priestess,’ he mumbled. It was obvious she couldn’t go much further yet they had to get outside the city walls. If they could just do that they may have a slim chance. He looked around, searching for inspiration and spotted a fishing boat on the opposite bank. The river was in full flood due to heavy rain in the Apennine mountains two hundred miles upstream, and, though every Roman soldier learned to swim during their training, he knew there was no way he would get across the torrent.
‘Priestess, listen to me,’ he said, thinking furiously, ‘I want you to wait for me here. Sit back in the shadows and I will come for you as soon as possible. Do you think you can do that for me?’
She nodded weakly.
‘I’ve had enough, Dragus,’ she said, ‘Just let them come. I have nothing left.’
Dragus wiped the tears from her face on the sleeve of his tunic.
‘Almost there, Priestess,’ he said, ‘Do this one last thing for me and you will be able to rest as long you want, I promise. Don’t talk to anyone, I will be as quick as I can.’
‘I will wait until dawn, Dragus,’ she said. ‘If you are not there, I will hand myself in to the Praetorian.’
‘You won’t have to do that, Priestess,’ he said, ‘I will be back.’
Dragus watched her limp into a nearby doorway before making his way back upstream. He knew that half a mile away there was one of the ten bridges that crossed the Tiber and he ran as fast as he could through the crowds. Within ten minutes he had reached the bridge and joined a group of slaves fleeing the flames on the west bank. The whole thing went better than expected and he soon reached the boat he had seen on the opposite bank of the river. He undid the rope, and, after pushing the boat into the flow, rowed strongly into the fierce current. Within seconds the boat caught the flow and picked up speed as it sped downstream. He pulled fiercely on the oars, driving his craft across the river, using the strength of the current to help propel him towards the other side. Suddenly he stopped rowing as he spotted a squad of ten men searching the riverbank downstream.
‘Search everywhere,’ he heard someone shout, ‘They can’t have gone far.’
‘Shit,’ cursed Dragus and shipped his oars. He ducked down and peered over the edge as the boat span passed the soldiers in the gloom. He peered frantically downstream, desperate to spot Rubria. For a second he thought he had missed her but suddenly she appeared out of the gloom, sat back against a wall, cradling her revered package in her arms.
‘Priestess,’ he called, ‘Over here.’
She looked up and he picked up one oar to try and drive the boat closer.
‘Quick,’ he shouted, ‘The guards are close.’
He tried driving closer but the current was too strong. Rubria started to run alongside the boat but it stayed tantalizingly out of reach as Dragus fought the current.
‘It’s no good,’ cried Rubria, ‘I can’t reach you.’
The boat passed her by and Dragus stared at the fear in her eyes as he passed. He looked around frantically hoping for an answer. Suddenly he realised that the river bent to the right and the current would naturally drive the small boat into the bank, but that was a hundred metres away.
‘Keep running,’ he shouted, ‘I will wait for you down stream.’ Within seconds he saw the river bend and a few seconds later the boat bumped against the bank. He jumped out and searched for an anchorage point. The bank was empty except for a small frightened boy.
‘You,’ he shouted, ‘Come here, Now!’
The youngster walked forward nervously.
‘Hold this,’ ordered Dragus, giving him the rope, ‘I will be a few minutes and when I return, you will have the blessing of a Goddess. If you let go, you will be cursed and be haunted by Phasmas for the rest of your life. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir,’ gasped the boy in fear.
‘Good,’ said Dragus and ran up the riverbank. Immediately he could see Rubria stumbling towards him but in the distance he could see the squad of soldiers getting closer. He ran up to her and she fell into his arms, sobbing.
‘Come on,’ he said, looking over her shoulder, ‘A few more yards and we will be safe.’
Suddenly a voice called out from the squad.
‘There they are, further down the bank.’
‘Shit,’ said Dragus and started to run down the bank, half dragging Rubria with him. As fast as they went, the squad was three times as fast, hampered only by the weight of their armour. They turned the bend and Dragus was relieved to see the boat was still there. The boy’s eyes widened with fear when he saw the pursuing soldiers, and he dropped the rope before skulking away into the shadows.
Rubria stumbled and fell forward, hitting her head on the floor. Dragus stopped and scooped her up in his arms, sprinting as fast as he could before the boat drifted away.
‘The Statue,’ screamed Rubria as Dragus placed her in the boat.
Dragus looked back up the bank. He could just make out the red fabric that wrapped the statue fifty metres away where she had dropped it.
‘Please,’ begged Rubria, ‘Nero will destroy it.’
With no time to think, Dragus climbed back out onto the bank. He pushed the boat out into the slower flow of the river bend and ran back towards the approaching soldiers. Even though he was an experienced veteran of many battles, Dragus knew he could not better ten armed legionaries. It was all down to speed. He reached the wrapped Palladium, and picked it up before sprinting back downstream. The boat was moving faster now, and, as Dragus drew close, he threw the Palladium across the water to land in the craft with a satisfying thud. He stooped to grab the rope trailing across the bank but lost his footing and sprawled forward into the dirt. He jumped up, momentarily stunned and looked at the soldiers, only metres away. The boat was now out of reach and picking up speed. There was nothing else he could do, so, without wasting any more time he dived headlong into the river and swam strongly towards the boat.
The squad stopped in frustration, but, just as Dragus heaved himself over the edge of the boat, the Decurion in charge of the pursuing squad drew his Pugio from his belt and sent it spinning across the water.
Dragus caught his breath and grabbed an oar to help steer the boat, but, as he placed the oar into the water, he stopped suddenly, a look of shock and pain on his face.
‘Dragus, what’s the matter?’ asked Rubria, but then screamed in horror as the Centurion fell forward, the hilt of the knife sticking out of his back.
As the squad watched, the boat picked up speed and span out of control down the swollen river, disappearing into the darkness, faster than a man could run.
Rubria tried to help the wounded Centurion but the random movement of the boat meant she struggled to maintain her balance. She crawled to his side as he struggled to get to his knees.
‘Oh, Dragus, keep still,’ she cried and placed her arms around him.
‘Get me one of the oars,’ he gasped, pointing down the boat.
‘You can’t row,’ she said, ‘You are hurt.’
‘No need to row,’ he said, ‘Just pass me one.’
Rubria did as she was asked and dragged it to where Dragus was crouched. With her help he fed it over the stern, and, when most of it was in the water, he pointed to the rope now lying near the seat.
‘Get the rope,’ he said, ‘We need to tie it down.
Together they tied the oar in place, and, within a few moments, the boat straightened out, aided by the occasional swipe of the makeshift rudder.
As soon as they had left the danger area, Rubria turned her attention to Dragus, who was obviously in excruciating pain.
‘Oh Dragus,’ she said, ‘Are you okay?’
‘We have to get this blade out of me,’ he said,’ I can’t move through the pain.’
‘But if we do, you could bleed to death,’ she said, ‘We need a Medicus.’
‘I have had such wounds before,’ he said, ‘And seen far worse. I don’t believe it has pierced any major organs but we can’t wait. We have to get it out. Make some bandage and do as I say.’
Rubria tore strips of material from her tunic and placed them on the seat.
‘Make them into pads,’ he said, ‘And listen very carefully. There is a danger I may lose consciousness so you have to know what to do. When you remove the knife, there will be blood, lots of blood. It is important that you stem the flow. As soon as the knife is withdrawn, place the first pad over the wound and press hard. The pressure should stop the flow. If it doesn’t, place a second pad on top but do not remove the first. Do you understand?’
‘What if that doesn’t work?’ asked Rubria
‘Then place more on top and press hard until the bleeding stops.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’ she asked.
‘Then I will die!’ he said simply. ‘If that happens, tip my body over the side into the river. I will not be able to help you further but at least you may be safer. The Praetorian are looking for two people not a single woman. You must get to shore and lose yourself in the suburbs.’
‘You won’t die, Dragus,’ she said, ‘I won’t let you.’
He smiled weakly.
‘Now, we must do it,’ he said, ‘I can’t stand this pain much longer.’
She nodded grimly and manoeuvred to a position where she could take a grip of the knife’s hilt.
‘Ready?’ she asked.
‘Do it!’ he said, and screamed out in pain as she slid the razor sharp knife from its bloody, sheath.
For what seemed like several minutes Rubria fought to stem the flow of blood with her makeshift bandages. Dragus passed out and by the time she had stopped the bleeding, she wasn’t sure if he was unconscious or dead. When she finally realised he was still breathing, albeit faintly, she made him as comfortable as possible with his head in her lap and steered the boat downstream into the unknown. It had been a long night.
Dragus opened his eyes slowly, struggling to remember where he was. He felt someone wipe his brow and he turned his head to see who was holding the sponge. The haze cleared and he saw the piercing eyes of Rubria gazing down at him.
‘Hello,’ she smiled, ‘Welcome back.’
Dragus tried to respond but was only successful in emitting a throaty rasp and broke down into a throaty coughing fit.
‘Hang on,’ said Rubria, ‘I’ll get you a drink.’
She disappeared from view and Dragus felt himself being lifted into a seated position by unseen hands. The Priestess returned and offered a clay beaker of clean water to his lips. He tried to drink but the flow was controlled by Rubria.
‘Slowly,’ she said, allowing him a sip at a time.
‘Where am I?’ he asked eventually, his voice a lot clearer now he had slaked his thirst.
‘We are safe, Dragus,’ she said, ‘We are in the house of a friend. You have been ill with the fever but have fought it off. For a while we thought you would die.’
‘We?’ asked Dragus, ‘Who else is here?’
The face of an unknown woman appeared before him.
‘Hello,’ she said nervously, ‘My name is Rose.’
‘Rose helped me back in Nero’s palace,’ explained Rubria, ‘She saw us make our escape from the Praetorian and followed us downstream. Just as well, really for the boat snagged on a fallen tree and I did not know what to do.’
‘Where are we now?’ asked Dragus.
‘We are in the port of Ostia,’ said Rose, ‘I have a friend who lives here and we are in the cellar of her master.’
‘Does he know?’
‘No sir,’ answered Rose, ‘He is away on business.’
‘What happened to me?’ asked Dragus.
‘Don’t you remember?’ asked Rubria, ‘After you came around you were okay for a while but then the fever caught and we thought you would die.’
‘It was the wound,’ said Rose. ‘It became infected and needed cleaning out with hot water. Luckily we caught it in time and I think the worse is over.’
‘Are you a Medicus?’ asked Dragus.
‘No, sir, but there was a slave in the palace who was training to be one and he used me to practise on.’
‘Lucky for me he did,’ murmured Dragus.’ So, what happens know?’
‘We can’t stay here,’ said Rose, ‘My friend’s Master returns tomorrow and she can’t risk him finding out.’
Dragus sat up and winced at the pain in his back.
‘Steady,’ said Rubria, ‘The wound is clean but we don’t want to start the bleeding again.’
‘How long have I been here?’ asked Dragus.
‘Three days,’ said Rubria.
‘Three days?’ gasped Dragus, ‘I can’t believe we haven’t been found.’
‘All units are fighting the fires,’ said Rubria, ‘I don’t think they can spare the men.’
‘That won’t last long,’ winced Dragus, ‘They don’t look kindly on the desertion of one of their own. It won’t be long before they instigate a search in every town from Rome to Ostia. We have to get out of here.’
‘I agree,’ said Rubria, ‘And suitable arrangements have already been put in place.’
‘What arrangements?’
‘Rose has arranged passage out of here.’
‘Where to?’
‘I don’t know, but there is a ship that leaves in the morning and Rose has arranged for us to be on it.’ As if on cue, a loud knocking echoed around the cellar and Rose opened the door to a weak chinned man wrapped in a quilted cape.
‘I am Stellus,’ he said, ‘And I understand you seek passage from Rome.’
‘We do,’ said Rose, ‘Come in.’ The man entered the gloomy room and walked over to the recumbent Centurion.
‘Is this the cargo?’ he asked, glancing between Rubria and Dragus.
‘What do you mean, Cargo? gasped Dragus lifting himself up onto one elbow
‘Yes,’ interrupted Rose, ‘Can you help us or not?’
‘I can, but it will cost you.’
‘We can pay,’ said Rose. Stellus walked around her and stared down at Dragus.
‘Who is he?’ he asked.
‘You don’t need to know,’ said Dragus, instantly weary of the man.
‘On the contrary,’ said Stellus, ‘If I am going to hide two fugitives on my boat, the very least I require is to know who it is I am hiding.’
‘You listen here,’ snarled Dragus, but before he could continue Rose grabbed the arm of Stellus and led him to a corner. A whispered conversation took place and a leather purse changed hands. Stellus stared again over to Dragus lying on the makeshift bed.
‘I will return within the hour with two of my crew,’ he said, ‘They will take you to my ship. You will stay in the hold with the rats until we leave the Mare Nostrum. Until then I want the both of you well away from prying eyes.’
‘You mean the three of us,’ said Rubria.
Stellus laughed briefly, tossing the purse up and down in his hand.
‘Three of you,’ he sneered, ‘This pittance is hardly enough to cover you two. No, the slave stays. Take it or leave it.’
‘Agreed,’ said Rose before Rubria could answer and led Stellus from the building. When she returned Rubria was waiting for her.
‘Rose, I can’t let you do this,’ she said, ‘That was your money. I won’t let you stay here. I will stay, you accompany Dragus on the ship.’
‘Forgive me, mistress,’ said Rose, ‘But that is not an option. You have been groomed to live in luxury and would be caught within hours. I, on
the other hand will disappear into the city and live amongst the rest of the slaves. I have a much better chance than you.’
‘I cannot do this,’ said Rubria, ‘I appreciate what it is your doing but I will not leave you here. You must go, I will stay.’
‘Do you think for one second that either Dragus or I will leave you behind?’ said Rose, ‘I would rather die first.’
‘But Rose…’
‘But nothing, Miss,’ said Rose, ‘You have to go to ensure the Palladium is nurtured until such time it can be returned to its rightful place, and when that time comes, I will be waiting. Don’t worry about me Miss, I will be fine.’ Rubria stared at the artefact for a moment before looking back at Rose. ‘If you argue, Miss,’ continued Rose, I will disappear until your ship has sailed. At least allow me to stay at your side until we say goodbye.’
Rubria threw her arms around Rose and hugged her tightly.
‘The Holy Mother will bless you, Rose,’ she whispered through her tears, ‘One day we will return and you will be honoured in her temple.’
‘Come,’ said Rose, disengaging herself from the Priestess’s embrace, ‘’We have to prepare him for travel.’ They turned towards Dragus and Rubria bathed his brow while Rose retrieved his clothes.
‘You can’t trust that man,’ said Dragus weakly.
‘We have no choice,’ said Rubria, ‘It is the only ship due to leave Ostia in the next few days. Everything is arranged.’
‘But we have no money,’ said Dragus, ‘How can we pay the fare?’
‘Rose had a purse,’ said Rubria, ‘I hesitate to ask where she got it from.’
‘Perhaps it is better we don’t know,’ said Dragus and laid back to sleep.
An hour later, Dragus was being carried on a makeshift stretcher up the gangplank by two of the ship Master’s men. Rubria and Rose stood together on the quayside saying their goodbyes when a shout rang out across the dock.
‘Wait!’
Both women looked across at the approaching figure of Stellus. He stormed up to them and faced Rose.
‘The price has changed,’ he said, ‘I want more.’
‘What?’ gasped Rose, ‘There is no more.’
