“The road,” Karus said, “hasn’t been used recently?”
“No, sir,” the trooper said. “It is a simple dirt road. We’ve seen no tracks of any kind other than those made by animals. I only got to the river before I was ordered to report to you, sir. It’s possible that the scouts farther up the road have found some evidence of use.”
“Thank you,” Karus said. “You may return to your unit.”
The trooper saluted and left.
Karus looked out at the forest and contemplated it for a few moments. The leafy canopy looked thoroughly impenetrable. There was an ominous feel to it, as if the forest was hiding something. What that was, Karus did not know. He turned around and studied the activity of the legion a few yards away. The men were rushing to finish cleaning their kit, preparing for the coming inspection by their officers, intent as they always were on avoiding a punishment detail. Several formations were already beginning to fall in.
Karus’s eyes were drawn back to the forest. The road through the forest would be shaded and chill. Judging by the temperate climate on the hilltop, he suspected that the march the legion was about to make would be much easier than the one they had just endured. Warmer at least, Karus thought, and without an overabundance of mud.
His gaze returned to the legion. Though the men looked presentable, they had just been through an extremely difficult and traumatic experience. They needed an extended rest before going back into action. He did not know if he would be able to give that to them. Gods, he did not even know if he would be able to feed them.
Karus looked heavenward and offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Jupiter. Though such prayers usually included a suitable sacrifice, Karus hoped that the great God of Rome would understand his lack of one.
“Jupiter and Mars,” Karus said quietly, adding to his prayer, “I have never been terribly religious, but I will do my best to honor you for this miracle that you bestowed upon the legion. I beg humbly that you continue to favor the Ninth.”
It was a poor prayer, but Karus had never been one to pray much. Yes, he had offered the gods routine and regular sacrifices, but not much more. He resolved to correct that oversight. He glanced once again out at the forest for a heartbeat and then turned back to the legion. He had work to do.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Felix,” Karus called, spotting his friend just ahead. Felix had clearly been waiting for him along the side of the road. He was leaning against the trunk of a tree that was unbelievably massive. It was at least twenty feet wide and perhaps a hundred or more tall, the top of which disappeared into the green canopy above. As large as it was, the tree was smaller than those just a few yards farther away from the road.
“We’ve been in the forest two days,” Felix said, pushing himself off the tree, “and I can’t get over the size of these things. Have you ever seen the like?”
“No, and I know what you mean,” Karus said, looking up and marveling. It was hard to believe this tree was just one of many, thousands even. The trees were so tall and the canopy so thick, the forest floor was dark and gloomy, shrouded in a perpetual twilight during daylight hours. At night, beyond the watch fires, it was blacker than pitch.
Almost no direct sunlight penetrated the thick canopy overhead, with the only exception being along the road, which was uncommonly wide. It was perhaps twice that of a typical Roman road. Still, with even the little sunlight that managed to filter its way down through the slim gap above the road, Karus found the forest not only depressing, but slightly unsettling, though he had to admit the gloom beat marching through mud.
Karus sucked in a deep breath of the cool, crisp morning air. It bordered on chilly, but was not uncomfortably so, particularly for men under march. The tang of rotting leaves and moist soil hung heavily on the air.
Glances were thrown their way as the legionaries marching by them eyed the two senior centurions speaking along the roadside. There was more than a little talking amongst the ranks, mostly lighthearted banter, with the occasional bark of harsh laughter thrown in. Karus found that encouraging. And yet, Karus knew they were wondering if something had happened or was in the wind. Karus sighed, understanding that the rumor mill was already at work, cooking up wild speculative stories about what the two senior centurions were discussing. Little did they know it was only the size and height of the trees. The thought almost made him laugh.
Karus had started out as a ranker. He well knew there was nothing to be done to counter this, nor even that he should attempt to do so. Men would gossip and speculate even if they knew the truth. It was just their nature and it served to help pass the time. Life as a legionary was, at most times, mind-numbingly boring, especially when on the march, where you were choking on the dust of those before you.
“Those limbs are huge,” Felix said and pointed.
Karus glanced upward at the numerous tree branches far above that emerged and disappeared into the leaf canopy at random. The closest of the branches were at least seventy to eighty feet in height, easily out of reach. They looked small, but Karus understood that was deceptive due to the distance.
“My father once built me a tree house,” Felix continued in a wistful tone. “It was really only several small branches nailed up a tree for a crude ladder and a rough platform above. As a child, I thought it marvelous.”
“I can only imagine,” Karus said, trying to picture a young Felix, unlike the tough, hardened veteran who had become a close friend. He failed utterly.
“Well,” Felix said, with a heavy sigh, “envision a tree fort built up there. Those limbs are so thick you could easily walk on them. Gods, Karus, if you wanted, you could build a real house up there.”
“The climb would be a bitch though.” Karus looked at Felix, wondering where his friend was going with this.
“I had a couple of men report they saw people up there,” Felix said, as if he sensed Karus’s thoughts. “They were moving from branch to branch, and attempting but failing to keep out of sight.”
Karus snapped a glance at Felix and then turned upward, studying the canopy carefully. He saw no one up there. Was it true? Were there people up there? Had the men simply seen shadows? Though Karus had only ever seen one in a cage, he had heard from legionaries who served in Africa that monkeys lived in trees. Could they have seen a monkey?
“Did you see anything?”
“No,” Felix said. “I did not.”
“They were just imagining things then,” Karus said. “This forest is a little eerie.”
“I don’t know,” Felix said with a heavy breath. “The boys who reported it are normally reliable and steady. I just don’t know.”
Karus said nothing. His friend was taking it seriously, which signaled to Karus that he should do the same.
“If you could climb up to the canopy,” Felix said, “those branches are close enough together to be able to step from one to another. I would think you could easily traverse from tree to tree.” Felix turned to the tree he been leaning against and grabbed at the rough bark, which grew in thick clumps that could well serve as handholds. “Though I would not want to, if you were adventurous enough a person, you could pull yourself up.”
“That’s a long climb,” Karus said. “And dangerous.”
“Dangerous, but not impossible.”
Karus rubbed at his forehead. If there were people up in the trees, did they live there? Were they a threat? Or just a figment of the overactive imaginations of the men?
Karus considered this as he watched as men of Seventh Cohort marched by. It was the second morning since they had marched away from the hill. It was not even close to midday yet. A long march lay ahead as the legion moved forward along the road.
Without even the hint of any twists or turns, the road cut an unnervingly straight path through the forest. Karus had never seen anything like it. The bed of the road itself was covered over with a soft layer of dirt and decaying leaves from the previous season’s fall. As the men marched, they kicked up
a small cloud of dust. Had the climate been a tad dryer, the dust would have been nearly overpowering.
Karus’s cavalry scouts had found no recent evidence of use along the road. There had been no tracks other than those left by the wild animals. Karus found this troubling, as he had no idea how long they would have to march before coming across people. Karus had never served in a place that was devoid of habitation.
“What do you think of this road?” Karus asked, glancing back to Felix.
“You mean that it is paved?” Felix raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Karus replied, not at all surprised his friend had come to the same conclusion. “It was bothering me, and I didn’t even realize it.”
“I had the same problem,” Felix admitted with a chuckle. “I couldn’t understand why the forest had not reclaimed the road. Then it hit me. Despite the dirt and leaves, we’ve been marching over a paved road. I even dug down to be sure and found the paving stone.”
Karus had done the same. In fact, he had ordered a section of men to clear away the dirt along an entire stretch of the road, just to look at the paving. “I would love to see how it was constructed. The stones are much larger than what we would typically use. Have you noticed,” Karus pointed to the flat surface of the road, “there also does not appear to be any settling? Whoever built this road knew what they were doing and meant for it to last an age.”
“Too true,” Felix said, glancing down at their feet. Between the two of them and years of service, they had constructed dozens of roads. When not training or drilling, the legions were employed at building, whether it be roads, aqueducts, bridges … the list ran on.
“This one strikes me as very old,” Karus said, “perhaps even predating the trees here. It’s ancient, I think.”
Felix glanced thoughtfully over at the tree he had been leaning against. “When next we make camp, I think I will set a detail to excavate a portion along the side of road to see its foundation. I want to know how many layers there are and if concrete was used. Perhaps we can learn something.”
“Felix,” Karus said, changing the subject, “one of the camp followers was bitten by a snakelike creature with legs. It took her less than a minute to die.”
“I had heard,” Felix said. “It and the sightings were one of the reasons I decided to wait for you. Karus, I am worried. I fear we are very far from Rome.”
“Far or not,” Karus said, “make sure your men stay away from anything that looks dangerous or, at the very least, is something they have never seen before.”
The familiar rhythm of hooves drew their attention in the direction the legion was marching. A cavalry trooper was trotting casually back along the line of march. He spotted Karus and Felix and dug his heels in a little, increasing the pace. He pulled up to a stop in front of the two officers, dismounted, and, with one hand holding his reins, offered a weary salute. Karus returned it. The trooper was very dusty, his armor fairly caked in it. Dirt streaked his face, making it clear he had ridden long and hard. Valens’s men had been in the saddle nearly every waking moment since the legion had arrived in this strange place. They were Karus’s eyes. This was the first messenger of the day, and Karus was eager to learn his news.
“Prefect Valens sends his regards, sir. He instructs me to report that the forest ends about forty miles ahead. Before you reach the edge of the forest, there is a medium-sized river that will need to be crossed. There was once a bridge at the spot, but only the stone causeways on either side remain. It is manageable to ford, but will slow things down a bit. Also, sir, just beyond the forest, we discovered a city.”
“A city, you say?” Felix looked surprised.
“Yes, sir,” the trooper replied, attempting to hold back his excitement. “It is very large, walled and about five miles from the forest. It is maybe as big as Rome even, and that’s not all, sir. It’s completely abandoned.”
“Abandoned?” Karus narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, sir,” the trooper said. “The city is ringed by farmland for as far as the eye can see. The farms are deserted too.”
“A dead city,” Karus said absently to himself, a thought prickling his memory. “Just like Xenophon.”
“Who?” Felix asked.
Karus had not realized he had spoken the last aloud.
“A Greek general,” Karus explained, looking over. “Xenophon led a Greek army that was part of a doomed campaign against the Persians. If I recall correctly, they were late to the war and arrived to find their allies defeated or surrendered. Honestly, I can’t remember which. Anyway, while he and his army retreated back toward Greece, they came across several massive cities that had been long abandoned.” Karus thought back to what he recalled of reading about Xenophon’s experiences. “He never found out what happened to the people that had once lived there. It was a great mystery, one we would have never known about had he not written it down. I would have loved to see those cities myself.”
“Sir.” The trooper cleared his throat. “The city and the surrounding countryside were not abandoned that long ago. It seems rather a recent thing, perhaps just a matter of weeks. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“What you mean?” Karus asked. “Explain yourself.”
“I explored a farm just outside of the city, and it’s like the people that lived there simply packed up a few personal possessions and, with their animals, just walked off. Where to, I know not. They left behind whatever could not be carried. I found animal feed and a silo filled with grain and dried foods, sir.”
The trooper pulled free a coarse brown bag that had been secured to his horse’s rump.
“I found this at the farm, sir.” He handed the bag over to Karus. The opening had been tied into a knot to keep the contents from spilling out.
Karus undid the knot, opened it, and looked inside. He saw fresh oats. He handed it to Felix, who also looked.
“Horse feed?” Felix glanced back up at the trooper.
“Yes, sir,” the trooper said, taking the bag. He tied it back up and then secured the bag to its net along his horse’s rump. “And there was a lot of it at that farm, enough to feed a full squadron of cavalry for a week, perhaps more.”
Karus glanced over at Felix, not at all liking what he was hearing. It seemed strange that an entire people would just pick up and leave without a very good reason. He could see that Felix had the same concerns as their eyes met.
“Are you certain this city is abandoned?” Karus asked, turning his gaze back upon the trooper.
“I’m sorry, sir. I did not enter. I only saw the city from a distance,” the trooper said. “A few scouts went in briefly and saw nobody about. They returned and reported to the prefect. Also, I saw no smoke coming from the city either, sir.”
Had people been living in the city in significant numbers, there would have been smoke from cook fires at the very least.
“It seems we have a mystery on our hands,” Felix said with an excited look to his eyes. “An empty city, just waiting to be explored. I wonder what mysteries it contains.”
Karus felt that was somewhat of an understatement. He, on the other hand, found himself wondering what threats it contained.
“What does Prefect Valens intend?” Karus asked the trooper.
“He has taken a handful of scouts into the city to have a look around. The rest of the cavalry has been charged with exploring the countryside, sir.” The trooper’s horse tossed its head about and took a sidestep. The man absently tightened his hold on the reins and patted it on the neck affectionately. The animal stilled. “Before the prefect left for the city, he instructed me to tell you, sir, that the city is intact and has in no way been damaged by a siege or assault. The walls look strong and defensible.”
Karus got the message. The city might be a good spot to hole up for a while. It might be a place for the legion to lick its wounds and recover.
“What do you think?” Karus looked over at Felix.
�
��Honestly, it sounds too good to be true,” Felix said after a moment’s thought, then turned to the trooper. “There was food fit for consumption at this farm you looked over? Besides the animal feed. Grains, I think you said?”
“Yes, sir,” the trooper said, “an entire silo, almost completely full.”
Felix looked over at Karus meaningfully. “The gods may have provided more than just transportation away from the Celts. They mean to feed us too.”
“I don’t like it,” Karus said with a heavy breath. He turned to look over the men marching by. He rubbed his chin and took three steps away from Felix and the trooper, thinking. He turned back. “It seems too damned convenient.”
“Agreed,” Felix said, and then abruptly chuckled.
Karus looked at his friend in question.
“If you had fallen into a river and could not swim,” Felix said, “and the gods sent a branch to keep you from drowning, wouldn’t you grab onto it, even if a mean-looking snake was wrapped around one end?”
Karus crossed his arms. He stared down at his feet for a moment, thinking it through. His people were tired and weary. They needed a place to recover, and he couldn’t see how he could pass up an opportunity like this. He looked up at the trooper, having made his decision. It was the only one he could have made.
“Advise Prefect Valens that the legion will be marching to the city,” Karus said.
“Yes, sir.”
“I figure, with that river crossing, we will likely reach the city by dusk on the following day. He is to report anything that would affect the safety of the legion,” Karus added. He knew that Valens would do so anyway, though he felt better for having voiced it.
“I will, sir.” The trooper mounted up with practiced ease. He gave a hasty salute, fist to chest, and wheeled his horse around. Nudging his horse with his heels, he began riding back the way he’d come at a slow trot.
“One more night sleeping on our arms,” Felix said, rubbing his hands together. “Then a roof over our heads. A legionary could not ask for more.”
Lost Legio IX: The Karus Saga Page 17
