Julius shrugged wearily, taking another mouthful of wine before replying.
‘And then what? Ride up to the gates and demand that the Wolf drops his linen and parts his buttocks for you? What can thirty horsemen do that two cohorts of foot can’t?’ He held out his cup. ‘Fill that up, will you?’
‘They can cover ground faster. Much faster. And if they leave the road north from Apulum at the right time, they can work their way around any scouts Gerwulf puts on the road into the mountains.’
The first spear sniffed indifferently, and sipped thoughtfully at his wine.
‘So you can ride around their scouts and if you’re lucky you’ll be able to get eyes on whatever’s happening in the valley without being spotted yourselves. So what? It doesn’t help us to get there any earlier with enough strength to do anything more than watch, does it?’
Marcus smiled tightly at him.
‘That rather depends on how many men we think we need to liberate the valley.’
Julius shook his head in exasperation.
‘Spit it out will you, whatever it is that’s bouncing around between your ears?’
The Roman’s voice took on a note of urgency.
‘There’s a body of men far stronger than our two cohorts, and who’ll be filled with enough anger to rip the Germans to pieces, if we could just unleash them in numbers.’ Julius looked up from the floorboards with a gleam of interest in his eyes. ‘The miners. We can be sure that Gerwulf showed his hand the night after we left, and ever since then he’ll have been riding them as hard as he can, partly to get the most gold out of the ground in the time he has, but mainly just because he can. It won’t have escaped your notice that he’s not only capable of just about anything, but that he takes considerable pleasure in his men’s depravity. He’ll have had them beating and executing the miners at the slightest excuse, and more than likely making free with their women, so if we could just release those angry men at the right time they would do the hard work for us. And do you remember what Cattanius told us? The miners are locked up and lightly guarded at night. .’
He looked into Julius’s eyes for a moment to gauge his superior’s reaction before continuing. The first spear nodded reluctantly, gesturing for him to continue.
‘And here’s the key to making that happen, not that I particularly like it. Rather than try to force our way in through the front door we could send a few picked men into the valley overnight. All we have to do is kill the men set to guard the miners. Once they’re roused and armed it would take more than the strength that Gerwulf has to stop them, especially when his soldiers will be staggering out of their beds still half asleep when the wave washes over them, if we get it right.’
Julius nodded slowly.
‘It makes sense as far as it goes, even if the whole idea feels little better than rolling the dice and praying for sixes. But how would you propose to get into the valley unnoticed, even at night? They’ll have men on the heights watching out for exactly the sort of sneaking about you’ve described.’
Marcus pursed his lips.
‘There’s one person in this room who knows a way into the valley that doesn’t depend on us having to smash the gate in, or climb over the wall, or climb over the mountains for that matter. Don’t you Lupus?’
The men’s eyes turned to the child, who had long since stopped any pretence of cleaning Marcus’s boots. Julius looked at Marcus in amazement.
‘This whole idea depends on a child? And I thought I was a ruthless bastard. .’
‘Yes. He’s the only one of us who’s been inside the mountain. And as it happens, the boy Mus showed him something that might be the answer to our dilemma.’ He ushered the boy forward. ‘Tell the first spear your story, Lupus.’
The child’s voice was small in the room’s silence, and his face was pale.
‘My friend Mus took me into the mine. He showed me a tunnel they don’t use any more, one that opens on the mountain beneath the Raven’s Head. The opening is hidden from above by the rock.’
Marcus patted him on the arm.
‘Well done, Lupus. Julius, the tunnel opening that the boy Mus showed Lupus is on the south side of the mountain, the highest level of the mine that was worked out years ago as the miners were forced to dig deeper to find the gold. Nobody works in it anymore, and it would appear to have been forgotten. A party of men could enter the mine from the south, make their way through the mountain and down into the active levels. From there they could infiltrate the valley without being seen, if they were careful. .’
Julius waved Marcus to silence, turning to Lupus.
‘And if they were lucky. Very lucky. So this would all depend on you, Lupus, wouldn’t it? We’d need you to show us where the tunnel entrance is. Can you remember?’
The child nodded silently, his face white.
‘You can’t ask the boy to-’
Julius flicked his hand at Morban impatiently.
‘Be quiet, Standard Bearer. The boy wanted to come along with us, and he seems to be the hinge on which this entire dubious plan swings, so you can let him speak for himself. Now, Lupus, you’re sure you can find this secret entrance to the valley, bearing in mind it’ll have to be a nighttime approach?’
‘I think so.’
‘You think so. .’ The senior centurion put his head in his hands for a moment before standing up, draining his cup. ‘Come along then, all of you. We’d better lay this whole idea out for the tribune. Although whether he’ll see it as the answer to his dilemma or a good way to warn the Wolf that we’re on our way and get thirty men killed, is beyond me. And bring what’s left of that wine with you. He’s going to need a drink when he hears this one.’
‘If the Gods take pity on you and actually allow you to find the way into the valley, then you are under no circumstances to take on the Germans once you’ve freed the miners. For a start there are far too many of them, and if you do manage to release enough of the prisoners to start a fight, they won’t be able to see the difference between you and the men that have been abusing them. Understood? The best thing that you can do will be to head back for the mine and make your escape. And those are orders, Centurion.’
Julius looked up at Marcus until the Roman nodded his understanding, then switched his attention to the tribune mounted alongside the young centurion’s mare.
‘As for you, Tribune, I strongly suggest that you restrict your part in this scheme to getting into the woman’s house. Once you have the mine owners freed you can step back and let them organise their people, if they have the balls for it.’ He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this. .’
A snort of grim laughter from behind him made the first spear turn to find a big cavalry horse close enough that the animal was nibbling his helmet’s crest.
‘You can’t fucking believe it? You haven’t got to lead this bunch of amateurs halfway across Dacia hoping that none of them falls off or puts his spear up the arse of the beast in front of him. Just when I’ve got one collection of idiots properly trained to handle horses, you make half of them go back to hoofing it and give me a fresh set of virgins to break in.’
Silus had walked his horse back down the line of mounted men, expertly assessing their readiness to ride with his usual mix of jaundiced disappointment and rough humour. Julius cracked a smile for the first time that morning.
‘Every dark cloud conceals a little gold, Decurion! In this case at least the prospect of my having to thrash my poor lads south at the double march will be tempered by the thought of your happy face every time one of these trainee donkey wallopers does something to upset you.’ He turned back to his superior with an expression of renewed concern. ‘And speaking of breaking in virgins, Tribune, I’d be most grateful if you could manage not to get yourself killed? I don’t want to end up being told what to do by some other weak-chinned aristo when I’ve just got used to being told what to do by you.’
He watched with
pursed lips as the squadron clattered out of the fort’s gates and into the grey light of dawn, waiting until the riders were out of sight before turning back to his officers.
‘Well then, now that this morning’s excitement is over I think we’d best get back to the challenge of putting another thirty miles under our belts before the sun hits the horizon on the far side. You’d better take Silus’s dismounts under your wing, Otho, I expect the poor lambs will be needing some serious encouragement before we’ve made the lunch stop. Right then, let’s put some hobnails on the cobbles!’
The mounted detachment made better progress than Silus had feared might be the case, although their arrival at Mountain Fort soon after midday was accompanied by postures that spoke of considerable discomfort from some of the less experienced riders. The decurion ranged alongside their short column with a look of disdain for those men grimacing at their saddle sores.
‘We’ve another thirty miles to cover before we reach Apulum, so you can have a short break to water your horses and get some fodder down their necks, and your own if there’s time. Men with sore arses, report to me!’
He was amused to see the tribune join the small group of men brave enough to risk his acerbic humour.
‘Well now, Tribune Scaurus queuing up for the rider’s remedy with his men, that is a sight I never thought I’d see. Here you go, sir.’
He passed Scaurus a jar which the tribune uncorked, gingerly sniffing at the contents. ‘It’s not for sticking under your nose, Tribune; it’s for rubbing on the sore skin. Best quality rabbit fat that is, nothing better for saddle sores.’
He winked at the senior officer as Scaurus dipped a finger into the jar with a look of distaste.
‘No, nothing better unless you can get a skinful of a good rough red. The headache you’ll have in the morning takes your mind right off your sore flaps!’
Arminius dismounted stiffly from his massive beast, reaching up to help Lupus down from the animal’s back where he had ridden in front of the German.
‘Does your backside hurt?’
The boy shook his head, his eyes wide at the sight of his tribune with one hand inside his leggings and a smile of relief as the fat he was rubbing between his legs eased the soreness caused by the saddle’s hard surface. Arminius grinned, ignoring the tribune’s narrowed eyes.
‘That’s the sheepskin for you. I’m just glad I had a spare piece of it in my kit.’ Silus walked across and pointed to the fleece he had given Arminius to fashion a makeshift saddle for the boy before their departure from Napoca. ‘If only we had a few more then we might have been spared the sight of this lot greasing themselves up for the afternoon, eh?’
The raiding party gathered in an empty barrack in the legionary fortress of Apulum that night, once the mounted detachment’s horses had been fed and watered, and those of the squadron’s original riders who had not dismounted and were left to march with the infantry had been provided with food and beds. Scaurus looked around the room at the men he had chosen to make the attempt to infiltrate the valley, meeting each man’s eyes in turn.
‘So once we’re through the mine and into the Ravenstone, I’ll go to Theodora’s villa with Arminius and two of our Hamians, and free the mine owners from whatever duress Gerwulf has them under. At the same time, Cattanius will lead Centurions Corvus, Qadir and Dubnus plus Arabus and the other two Hamians to the miners’ camp along with Martos. Our main objective is to release those labourers, and to protect them for long enough that they can get to their tools and gather enough strength to break out. Once that’s achieved we’ll all meet back at the mine entrance, which will be guarded by Lugos and Lupus. If Arminius and I don’t make it back to the mine at the appointed time then I’ll remind you all again that I expect you to continue as planned and make your way back through the mine to the southern side. There will be no heroic attempts to find or rescue me, since it will be highly likely that we will both already be dead.’
The German pulled a face, but made no comment.
‘Is everyone clear as to their part? We have to get the timing right if this is going to work.’
Silus stood up and saluted.
‘Yes Tribune, we know our part. I’m going to supervise the loading of the cart, and make sure the load’s rainproof. You wouldn’t want all of that shouting at the fortress’s stores officer to have been wasted.’
Scaurus nodded his approval and the decurion went on his way with a smile at the memory of his tribune’s incandescent anger when the Apulum fortress’s storeman had robustly denied being in possession of any of the equipment the party needed. Having reduced the soldier to terrified silence with a violent outburst that questioned both his parentage and his desire to see the next dawn, the tribune had waved his men forward into the stores in search of their requirements. Marcus had walked back down the stores’ length a few moments later with a satisfied smile.
‘It’s all there. Rope, rations, torches — lots of torches — and more than enough lambskin for our boots.’
The storeman had been aghast as the equipment was carried past him, but Scaurus’s rebuttal of his argument had left him floundering for a response.
‘But that won’t leave enough torches to light the fortress!’
‘In which case you’d better spend some of that gold you’ve been creaming off the top all these years and buy some more, hadn’t you, because I’m taking these. And I’ll need a cart to carry it all. Quickly now!’
Satisfied that everyone knew what was expected of them, the tribune dismissed his men, calling to Marcus to stay behind with him for a moment. The younger man turned his back to the iron stove’s glowing metal, enjoying the warmth after a day in the cold winter’s air, and waited for the tribune to speak. Scaurus rubbed wearily at his face with a hand before speaking.
‘Earlier today I suddenly remembered a question that I’ve been meaning to ask you for several days, but which I keep forgetting given everything else that’s been going on. After the battle on the frozen lake, you went across the ice to gather shields from Belletor’s cohort, to replace the ones that had been trampled to pieces on the ice. You had to walk through the men who had made a run for it across the lake, and were ridden down by the Sarmatae.’
Marcus nodded slowly, recalling the lake’s bitter cold through his fur-wrapped feet as he had walked reluctantly towards the scatter of bodies littering the ice.
‘Julius sent me across the lake for shields so that I could look for Carius Sigilis. He knew that the tribune and I had established a friendship of sorts, as much as a man of that seniority ever can with a common centurion.’
‘And?’
‘There’s little enough to tell. The men on the lake were all dead, either killed instantly or taken by blood loss and the cold quickly enough that I doubt any of them suffered for very long.’
‘And Sigilis?’
‘He had a spear wound in his side, deep into his stomach, and another in his neck. He bled to death.’
Scaurus got up, standing alongside his centurion and extending his hands to the stove’s warmth.
‘I watched you, Marcus. You went from body to body looking for him, and then when you found him you were crouched over his corpse for a good deal more time than it takes to ascertain that he was dead.’
Marcus nodded.
‘True. He’d written a last message on the ice with his own blood, the words barely readable but clear enough if a man knew what he was looking at.’
‘Was it “The Emperor’s Knives” by any chance?’
‘He told you, didn’t he?’
The tribune gave him a slow, sad smile, his admonishment no more than gentle amusement.
‘Well of course he did, you fool. When you refused to listen to what he was trying to tell you, he decided that letting me in on the secret was the best way to ensure that you learned the truth about your father’s death, even if he were to die in battle. He respected you, Centurion, he saw qualities in you that he yearned to find in himse
lf, and while he very much wanted to be part of whatever revenge you take for Senator Aquila’s death, he knew there was a risk he wouldn’t survive the campaign. So he told me the story of the men who killed your father.’
‘I’m going to kill them all, if I ever get to Rome.’
Scaurus pursed his lips.
‘Taking on men with that sort of power will be insanely dangerous. You might catch one of them unprepared, but after that the others will know you’re coming, and they’ll be the most dangerous prey you’ll ever hunt. You’ll need the support of someone powerful, if you ever manage to get to Rome, more powerful than I’ll ever be, even if we do manage to pull off a miracle and stop Gerwulf running away with enough gold to buy a provincial city.’
Marcus reached into his purse, pulling out a heavy gold pendant.
‘This was on the ice beside his last words. The Sarmatae didn’t have time to dismount and rob them of their possessions.’
‘And he left it there for you? It carries a heavy burden, Centurion, the responsibility of telling his father how he died. A man like that won’t want to hear that his son was killed as he ran from the enemy, which leaves you with a difficult decision to make. Do you tell him the truth and risk his anger, or would it be better to sweeten the pill with a lie in order to gain his support? I don’t envy you the choice.’
10
Silus led the squadron away from Apulum at dawn the next morning, their route forking away from the road that ran on southwest towards the Danubius and climbing northwest into the mountains, the same road the Tungrians had used to reach the Ravenstone valley weeks before. After a dozen miles he conferred briefly with Scaurus before leading the horsemen off the road, and into the mountains that rose to their right-hand side. They rode slowly and cautiously up into one of the high valleys, eventually dismounting and leaving their horses with Silus’s men as the sun dipped to a finger’s width above the peaks to the west.
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