‘I am ready.’
Rather than the direct route across the wasteland of Bezetha, Valerius, with his borrowed Judaean robes in a roll behind his saddle, took Tabitha and Serpentius in a wide arc. The reason was that he wanted to look upon Jerusalem from where he and Titus had studied it nearly six months earlier. The fighting had left more than half the city little more than a barren wasteland pockmarked by small piles of rubble. How much blood had been spilled since? How many had died?
And more blood was about to be spilled, for even as he reined in by the Caesarea road more men were already dying. The final attack on the Antonia fortress had begun.
Throughout the night the air had shaken to the diabolical heartbeat of the rams thundering relentlessly against the walls of that mighty citadel, the key to the even mightier citadel of the temple beyond. In the airless darkness beneath the Antonia’s walls Roman engineers hacked at the rock and the dry earth to leave a gaping void. They worked quickly for fear of counter-mining by their Judaean counterparts, who were agile as rats in their own tunnels close by.
Titus had arranged his formations so that the Fifteenth Apollinaris faced the northern flank of the fortress and the Fifth Macedonica the west. Lepidus’s Tenth would make a new assault upon the stubborn eastern towers from the Cedron. From his vantage point, Valerius could see disciplined ranks of legionaries moving into position between the big siege catapults. Cohort after cohort, their helmets and their standards glittered like individual jewels and the morning sun twinkled on their spear points. Then came the auxiliaries of the Empire’s many tribes and nations, their formations a little looser, their manoeuvres visibly more laboured. Valerius suffered a sudden moment of doubt. His place was with them, not on this foolish mission to hunt down a few scraps of parchment that meant nothing to him. It occurred to him that Titus would wonder where he was and might even be justified in having him arrested for desertion. But it was only a moment, and he turned away as the thud of the first big catapult launching its missile carried across the hillside.
His eyes caught those of Serpentius and the Spaniard met his glance with a mirthless smile. The former gladiator’s skeletal features seemed unnaturally pale, so the lines and the scars of old wounds stood out starkly against almost grey flesh. He had slept in the tent of his friend, the Syrian legionary Apion, and Valerius wondered if he’d had another shaking attack. But when he asked, the Spaniard only growled.
‘Nothing a little action won’t cure.’
When they reached the Mount of Olives Valerius found Lepidus and his staff watching the attack from a little promontory overlooking the fortress. The legate frowned when he recognized his one-handed friend. ‘You again? I hope you bring a little more of Fortuna’s aid than our last venture, though I doubt it. We’re just fodder for their arrows and spears and to draw attention from the others. The Fifth is in the best position to make a breakthrough. What game does Titus have you playing this time?’
‘No game, Lepidus,’ Valerius said quietly as he drew him aside. ‘But you’ll remember my previous visit with the Judaean …’
‘Ah, I thought so. You’re up to no good.’ Lepidus noticed Tabitha for the first time and his eyebrows rose. ‘At least the company is a little easier on the eye this time. My lady,’ he smiled, and bowed in the saddle.
‘What I would like,’ Valerius persisted, ‘is the use of a tent to rest in, and a centurion to direct me towards the path we used previously. I want to have a look at it in daylight.’
‘It’s your neck.’ He looked up at a shout of consternation. ‘Jupiter’s wrinkled scrotum, they’ve done it again. Claudius? I thought we’d stopped up all those ratholes.’ Below them flame was licking at one of the siege rams where a Judaean sortie had emerged from the base of the temple’s north walls. He glanced across to Valerius. ‘Claudius will make sure you get what you need. I doubt I’ll have time to see you before you do whatever it is you’ve come to do. Good luck, Valerius.’ His hand reached out and touched the wooden fist.
They took what rest they could while they waited for late afternoon when Valerius intended to make his inspection of the path. Serpentius, normally catlike in his ability to sleep at any time, tossed in his blankets, and Valerius talked Tabitha through the streets he’d used when he was in the city.
‘I know that long stairway,’ she assured him. ‘When the time comes I will be able to take us to the temple, even in the dark.’
Just before dusk, Valerius and Serpentius met a tall centurion by the camp’s west gate. The sound of the battle a few hundred paces to the north was muted now as exhausted men tired of trying to slaughter each other. Valerius heard the grumble of faraway thunder and decided it must be the gods laughing at the foolishness of men.
‘Good,’ the centurion said, when he saw they’d changed into their Judaean clothing and grey cloaks that matched the one covering his armour. ‘We’ll be within range of their slingers, so we have a choice of carrying shields and asking them to use us for target practice, or being a little less conspicuous. In view of what the legate told me, I thought this was best.’
He led the way down the slope and they quickly came to the diagonal path Valerius remembered. The centurion followed it, all the time glancing at the towering walls a bowshot away. Only a few men guarded the parapets, because it seemed an unlikely place for the Romans to assault. John of Gischala needed the bulk of his Galileans to defend the Antonia. Still, someone saw them, because a lead slingshot flattened itself against a rock with a loud smack a few inches from Valerius’s head. He picked it up and studied the mushroom-shaped piece of metal that would have put a hole in his head if it had been a little better aimed.
The centurion chuckled. ‘They’re bloody good, the slingers, but you don’t have to worry about their archers. They couldn’t hit a whore’s left tit if they were standing on her crotch.’
They reached the pair of tombs Josephus had used as a reference point. Absalom, son of David and a pair of brothers whose names Valerius couldn’t recall. Here, the Judaean had turned down into the base of the gorge, but Valerius kept to the path, his eyes always on the ground a few dozen feet below. He reached a point he recognized. A small, beehive-shaped tomb to the south and a mulberry bush to the north, with a flat platform between, and beside it a distinctively shaped rock.
‘Mark that spot,’ he whispered to Serpentius. ‘We need to find it again in the dark.’
XLV
Serpentius led the way, sure-footed as a mountain leopard and seemingly able to see in the dark. Tabitha proved equally adept over the rough ground, and they made surprisingly good time. They only slowed when the terrain forced them to the valley bottom where the walls of Jerusalem loomed above them like a cliff to their right.
Eventually the Spaniard changed course and moved upward. Valerius heard a grunt and the soft rustle as he ran his fingers through the leaves of the mulberry bush to confirm they’d reached their destination. Valerius scrabbled in the dust until his fingers closed on the notch in the rock. He expected Serpentius to be already at his side, but the Spaniard was a hunched grey blur in the darkness. Tabitha was close enough for Valerius to see her eyes and the question in them. He shook his head.
‘Serpentius?’ he hissed.
The only answer was the soft mewing sound of an animal in pain.
He crept across to the Spaniard and put out his left hand to touch him, flinching as he felt the bone and sinew shaking uncontrollably beneath his fingers. He moved closer so his face was almost touching the other man’s. ‘Are you unwell?’ he whispered. ‘We can wait a few moments for it to pass.’
‘I can’t.’ Serpentius’s voice shook as much as his body and Valerius sensed he was choking back tears. His mind fought to understand what was happening. This was Serpentius, the gladiator who had won a hundred fights in the arena. Serpentius the fearless, bravest of the brave. The man who had stood beside him, unflinching, while they faced death a dozen times, and had saved his life a dozen more. ‘I …
I can’t go down there again.’
Valerius put his arm round the Spaniard’s shoulders and his lips against his ear. ‘What is wrong, old friend?’
For a moment the only sound was that of Serpentius’s harsh breathing. ‘I’m not the same, Valerius.’ The whisper might have been the sound of a breeze passing over the mulberry leaves. ‘The man you knew is gone for ever.’ Another harsh sob racked his body. ‘I feel fear,’ he spat the word through gritted teeth, ‘and I fear death. When we last went down into that pit I understood the eternal darkness that awaits me. It has haunted me ever since. Hades awaits us down there. I cannot face it again. I am a coward.’
‘No.’ Tabitha echoed Valerius’s urgent denial as she moved close to the Spaniard’s other side.
Valerius tightened his grip on Serpentius’s shoulder and turned him until he could look into the dark eyes. The depth of despair there made him want to weep, but he knew Serpentius needed his strength. He choked the words out. ‘No man is less of a coward than Serpentius of Avala. This is the wound talking, not you. Every man has fears, but not every man can overcome them.’
‘Not you, Valerius.’
Valerius thought back to the time he had been trapped in the pipe of a Roman aqueduct and could have laughed aloud at this folly. ‘Listen, old friend, I need your help to move the stone and replace it. Give me the sack with the torches.’
‘No. No,’ the Spaniard insisted. ‘I must come with you. A moment or two and I’ll be ready.’
But Valerius remembered the previous journey through the Stygian darkness below. The thought of someone freezing or being driven mad down there unnerved him more than going into danger without his Spanish shield. ‘Your place is here, Serpentius,’ he said. ‘Above ground with a sword in your hand.’ He felt a huge sigh run through Serpentius’s body and knew he’d made the right decision. ‘Replace the slab when we are gone and return to Titus. He needs your sword this night more than I. With the gods’ will, we will meet again at the Great Temple.’
‘The Great Temple.’ Serpentius repeated the words as if they were a talisman.
‘Yes. The greatest danger will be when the temple falls. That is when I will call on you.’
‘And I will answer.’ The voice that made the solemn pledge was firmer, and Valerius hugged the Spaniard to him as he removed the bag from his shaking fingers.
‘Now, help me with the slab.’
Valerius ordered Tabitha to wait on the tenth step, and when the great rock rumbled into place above his head he used the flint and iron to light the torch.
‘Poor Serpentius.’ Tabitha blinked as the brand flickered and burst into flame.
Valerius waited for his vision to clear, but when the ball of light finally spread he felt his guts turn to ice. They had other problems to worry about than Serpentius’s health. The last time he’d stood here the water had run a foot below the level of the lowest step. Now the surface shimmered six inches above the second. That meant it would be at Tabitha’s thighs when they left the steps. Worse, the current flowed three times faster. He remembered the thunder he’d heard earlier. These streams would ultimately be fed from sources far in the mountains, so even if there was no rain on Jerusalem the water levels would fluctuate. Tabitha looked up at him, unaware of the calculations going through his mind. In the torchlight the water looked benign, but she didn’t know what awaited them further down the tunnel. How deep would the water be, how much space between surface and ceiling? Feet certainly in the highest parts, but he remembered stretches when the stone roof had been inches above his head. Now …?
‘We may have to swim,’ he said.
‘I can swim.’ She met his gaze and the dark eyes didn’t flinch. ‘We must have the book.’
‘I think I can get us to the pool, but …’
She reached up to take his left hand in her right and her warmth sent a surge of belief through him. ‘Do not doubt your ability or my resolution, Valerius. God is with us.’
She loosed her grip and stepped down into the swirling waters. It would be dark, he was thinking, very dark. Once the torch was wet it wouldn’t light again. He tried to remember every twist and turn of the subterranean passage. Every dip and every obstacle. The place where the bottom dropped away into the sinkhole. But would they ever reach it? There was only one way to find out. He pushed past her into the mouth of the tunnel with the torch in his left hand, trailing his arm until he felt her grip the wooden fist.
At first they moved in silence, accompanied only by the rush of the water, then her voice echoed in his ears. ‘I am glad we left Serpentius,’ she said. ‘Down here it is easy to understand his fears. When we get out of the tunnel …’
‘We have to survive Jerusalem.’
‘But first the tunnel,’ she insisted with a woman’s practicality. The roof was lower now, the water only three feet below it and already Valerius had to bow his head as the cut stone angled downwards. The icy cold of the water crept up his legs and the chill air seemed to permeate his bones. ‘Tell me everything you know.’
He closed his eyes and let his memory tell the story. ‘A hundred paces ahead the water will be up to your chin and you will think you cannot continue.’ He was surprised how calm he sounded. ‘The torch smokes and it will fill your nostrils and your mouth, but you must endure. Stay close. Hold my arm and try not to breathe. It will last only moments before we emerge into a section where the ceiling soars above us and the smoke will clear. There is a carved stone. Josephus said it mentioned Hezekiah, the man who ordered the construction of this conduit. After two hundred or so paces, the ceiling drops again, and the tunnel narrows, but you are slim,’ he remembered the way the stones had pushed at his shoulders, ‘and you will easily pass. The next trial comes soon after …’
‘What is the next trial?’ Her voice was almost in his ear.
‘We will be under water.’
‘For how far?’
‘That depends on the depth.’
‘How far?’
‘Twenty feet, perhaps thirty.’
‘Perhaps?’ She sounded incredulous.
‘Perhaps more.’
‘And after?’
‘Let us wait and see if there is an after.’
All too soon they reached the point where the tunnel roof dropped to meet the orange glitter of the rushing water. ‘I’m going to put out the torch,’ he explained. ‘Stay close to me and do not fear.’
Tabitha nodded, but he heard her gasp as he used the leather bag to extinguish the flame, plunging them into a darkness so total they couldn’t be sure they even existed. Valerius fumbled with the bag until he had tied the neck around the head of the torch. At least that way it had a chance of staying dry. He reached out with his left hand and felt her flinch. ‘Take it, and do not let go. In this section there is room for us to swim side by side. Use your free hand on the side of the tunnel and kick with your feet. Don’t rush and don’t panic. If we stay calm we will easily reach the other side.’
‘Valerius?’ Her voice sounded very small and very young.
‘Yes?’
‘I love you.’ He felt the warmth where her lips touched his cheek and despite everything it made him smile.
‘I know. Now, fill yourself with air. I’ll count to three, and on three we go under and we swim until we reach the other side. There is no going back. Do you understand?’ She didn’t reply, but he heard her gulping in huge nervous breaths. ‘One … two …’ he said a silent prayer, ‘three!’
As he ducked beneath the surface the shock of the cold water threatened to force the air from his lungs, but he pushed forward and he could feel Tabitha beside him, her right hand clutching his left. He kicked with his feet and pushed at the tunnel side with his wooden fist. Despite his brave words a knife point of fear scored his brain. This was what it had been like in the pipe of the Old Anio aqueduct, with the water surging around him and no hope of escape. A little bubble of panic formed inside him, and grew until it filled his body and hi
s mind and he thought he would go mad. Something rattled against his skull – his head had hit the tunnel ceiling – and the pain drove the panic away. He felt Tabitha’s hand in his, the determination and the strength as she forced her slim body through the liquid darkness. She had no idea what lay ahead, but still she placed her trust in him. The breath seemed to harden in his chest. How long had they been under? It didn’t matter, because there was no going back. Blood thundered in his ears and a great rage welled up that gave him new strength. He pushed on, keeping his head down and hammering his fist into the wall to increase his momentum. Swim and keep swimming, the pressure in his chest forcing its way into his mouth. He felt the moment her fingers loosened and she gave up. He clutched at her, but she fought him and then was gone. Bewildered, he allowed himself to float in the dark water, pushed by the current, until a hand twisted into his hair and hauled him upwards in a blinding bolt of pain. His face came clear of the water and he dragged in a long, rasping breath.
‘I thought you’d decided to turn into a fish.’ The soft voice was close to his ear and he could tell she was smiling. ‘We could have surfaced long ago. How far until our next swimming lesson?’
Valerius pulled the torch free from the bag, but one touch of the soaking pitch-covered rag told him it would never light. ‘I don’t know for certain.’ His voice echoed and he understood they must be in one of the areas where the roof was far above. ‘All we can do is keep going until we reach the exit.’ He reached out for her and drew the shivering body against his. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘All I did was what you told me to.’
‘I know, but thank you anyway.’
They pushed ahead through waist-deep water, successfully skirting the sinkhole that had almost swallowed Serpentius. After two or three false alarms, they reached a point where the tunnel definitely disappeared beneath the surface and Valerius judged they must be close to the entrance.
Scourge of Rome Page 37
