Marcus nodded, conceding the point.
‘We are the point of the spear, sent forward to seek a victory by stealth where a more forceful approach might fail. We hope to liberate the miners, and turn them upon the Germans.’
The man shook his head emphatically.
‘A week ago, perhaps, but now the men of the valley are penned in at night, crowded into a single mine’s barracks, which has been surrounded by a wooden wall to keep them contained while the soldiers entertain themselves with the valley’s women. Every barrack’s door and window is barred from the outside, and you will not free them without fighting your way through the Wolf’s entire strength. You have done well even to come this far without the aid of a man that knows the mine’s passages.’
Marcus shrugged.
‘We have a child with us who came this way once before, in the company of another boy who used to tend the mine’s lamps.’
‘Mus?’ The labourer stepped forward with a hopeful expression. ‘You have word of the child?’
Marcus tipped his head in question.
‘Surely you know his fate? He was hidden by your mistress Theodora, but he was discovered and killed by Gerwulf’s men.’
The muscles in the labourer’s arms corded as his fists clenched, the scarred knuckles white with the force of his anger.
‘If I had known that the child was dead then I would have left this infernal place of toil and gone to take my revenge on his murderer . . .’ His fists opened and clenched again, and he stared up at the cavern’s roof, invisible in the gloom. ‘I am Karsas, from the same village as the boy. He was all I had left . . .’ He mastered his emotions, shaking his head in frustration. ‘You saw the body?’
Marcus nodded sadly.
‘The woman carried his corpse to the parade ground on which we were preparing to depart.’
Karsas stood in silence for a moment, and then stepped closer, ignoring the Roman’s sword.
‘Take me with you. I will have revenge for the child before I die.’
The Roman stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.
‘We cannot take you down into the valley. This is work for men who have been trained to use the shadows, not for one man seeking revenge. But you can assist us.’
The two men reclimbed the ladder to where the raiding party were awaiting Marcus’s return, and after a brief discussion the miner led them confidently down the passage with a torch in his hand. After walking for several hundred paces down the tunnel’s gentle slope he stopped, squatting down on his haunches and pointing down the rock tunnel.
‘We have come four hundred and fifty paces. Another fifty will put you within sight of the mine’s entrance. There are men posted to guard the tunnel, but they usually doze for the most part, and leave one man to watch. I have considered killing them to make our escape – if only there was somewhere to run to in these barren mountains.’
Scaurus patted him on the shoulder.
‘Thank you, Karsas. And if there is revenge to be taken when this is done, I swear that you will have your part of it, if I can find a way. Will you care for the boy here until we return, and keep him from harm? Whether we succeed or fail in this venture, the valley will be no place for him this night.’
Leaving Lupus with the miners, the party tiptoed the last short distance to the tunnel’s exit into the valley’s fresh air. Qadir nocked an arrow to his bow and slid forward to the front of the column, waiting until his eyes had adjusted to the moonlight before stepping out into the open with the slow, exaggerated steps of a hunting cat. Spotting a target, he raised the bow and pulled the arrow back until the string was nearly tight, jerking his head for Marcus to come forward past him. Pacing silently past his friend, the Roman saw a single figure sitting beside the embers of a small fire, his head nodding as he dozed, while two more men were rolled up in blankets at his feet. Raising his gladius ready to strike at the sleepers, he nodded briskly to his friend, and then stabbed the blade down into the sleeper furthest from him, opening the man’s throat with a flick of his wrist. As the Roman’s victim struggled in his tight wrappings, gargling blood from the horrendous wound, Qadir let his broad-bladed arrow fly into the dozing sentry’s chest with a crack of breaking bone. The sentry flopped bonelessly to the ground with the missile buried in his heart, his sightless eyes opened wide with the impact’s shock, and Marcus knelt to put the bloodied blade of his gladius to the other sleeper’s throat, reaching down to clamp a hand over his mouth.
‘If you make a sound without being told to speak I’ll cut your wind and leave you to gasp out your last. Do you hear me?’
The prostrate figure nodded, lying unnaturally still as he felt the sword’s fierce edge at his throat.
‘How many of you were standing guard here?’
The Roman removed his hand, tensing his sword arm to strike, but the terrified German’s voice was no more than a whisper.
‘Three.’
‘Are there any other men standing guard between here and the mining camp?’
The captive’s head shook.
‘How many men stand guard on the woman’s house?’
‘Four.’
‘And how many on the miner’s camp?’
‘I don’t know . . .’ The German wriggled desperately as Marcus slipped the sword’s point under his chin, his words a gabbled rush. ‘Too many to count, at least a century!’
The Roman nodded, killing the man with a single efficient thrust of the gladius up under his jaw. He turned to find Scaurus nodding approval.
‘It’s no night for half measures.’ The tribune looked up at the cloudless nights’ blaze of stars. ‘As we agreed it then, you go to the miners’ camp and wait for the right moment, and I’ll lead my party to the villa. And who knows, if we get lucky enough, perhaps I’ll find Gerwulf unguarded, and take the head from this particular wolf.’
He led Arminius and two of the Hamians away down the valley’s steep slope, keeping to the shadows until Theodora’s villa appeared out of the gloom below them. The party watched the building from the cover of a stand of trees with a view over the courtyard’s wall, as a single sentry paced up and down the length of the house’s frontage.
‘One man at the front and presumably one man at the back.Which means there will be two more inside, if that German was telling us the truth.’ He turned to the Hamians. ‘Can you put that sentry down from here?’
The archers put a pair of arrows into the pacing guard, who slumped against the house’s wall without a sound, following up their first shots with two more that slapped into the wounded man, leaving a dark smear of blood on the wall as he slid down its rough plastered surface.The tribune led his party slowly and carefully out of the trees’ shadows, through the courtyard’s open gates and quietly up to the building’s front door.
‘There may be a guard in the entrance hall.’
Arminius drew a hunting knife from his belt and pushed lightly at the door, grinning as it eased open with a gentle creak from the hinges. He slipped through the narrow gap and was inside for less than a dozen heartbeats before he reappeared, shaking his head.
‘No guards.’
They followed him through the half-open door, both Hamians nocking arrows to their bowstrings and moving to either side of the wide hall with the weapons ready to shoot. Scaurus paused for a moment to get his bearings, listening to the sleeping household. He gestured to the other men, sending Arminius forward with a pointed finger at the door that led to Theodora’s private quarters. The German vanished inside for a moment and then reappeared, beckoning the others to join him. In the darkness of the dining room her erotic murals took on a sinister quality, half-visible couplings that made the Hamians’ eyes widen whilst Arminius wrinkled his nose and ignored them, cocking his head to listen.
‘You hear something?’
The German shook his head dourly in response to Scaurus’s whispered question.
‘Thought I heard a floorboard creak. I hear nothing now.�
�
He shrugged, and Scaurus moved slowly across the tiled floor to the door that led to Theodora’s bedroom. Putting a finger to his lips he lifted the latch with delicate care, stepping round the half-open door to find the bed chamber bathed in moonlight from a high window. The woman was asleep on her bed beneath a sheet, and the tribune smiled gently as he stepped silently to her side, kneeling alongside her and reaching forward to put a hand over her mouth.
She started under the touch, her eyes wide with the shock of his presence, and for a moment she made to struggle. Scaurus shook his head, leaning close to whisper in her ear.
‘You’re safe now, madam, we’ve come to take you out of here. Can I remove my hand without you making any noise?’
Still startled, she nodded mutely, and the tribune removed his hand with an encouraging smile.
‘There, that’s better. Are Felix and Lartius imprisoned here?’
Theodora shook her head, her whispered reply confirming Scaurus’s expectations.
‘That monster Gerwulf had them both killed yesterday, as a lesson for their workers.’
Scaurus shook his head grimly.
‘Much as I expected, sadly for them. In that case, I think our best course would be for you to put some clothes on and accompany us to safety. It’s all about to get rather noisy and dangerous round here.’
‘What do you mean?’
He smiled again, shaking his head and gesturing to her wardrobe.
‘We’ve no time for a long story now – let’s just say that the arrival of a full legion in the valley tonight is going to put the cat among the pigeons, shall we?’
Cattanius led the larger of the two parties down the hill to the west, heading for the lights of the miners’ camp. Reaching the road the soldiers flattened themselves to the ground at Marcus’s silent command, waiting for him to order them across the pale ribbon. Raising his body off the ground in readiness to jump to his feet and make the dash, the Roman stiffened as he heard the sound of boots approaching from the direction of the camps further down the valley. He shuffled backwards on his elbows and knees, whispering a command to the men behind him.
‘Get back into the shadows!’
Following his example the raiders swiftly backed away from the road and into the cover of a patch of scrub, throwing themselves to the ground and pulling their cloaks over their helmeted heads. Peering through a gap between cloak and ground, Marcus saw a party of soldiers march into view, and at their heart he was dismayed to see Gerwulf himself. Qadir had slipped into the shadow of a tree trunk, raising his bow with a hunting arrow nocked and ready to fly, but after a moment he lowered the weapon.
‘There are too many of them for us to deal with. And I have no clear shot with all those men packed around him.’
Marcus nodded slowly at the Hamian’s muttered comment.Waiting until the Germans were out of sight before turning back to his comrades, he whispered a quiet instruction.
‘They must be heading for the woman’s villa. We can only hope that the tribune has already found her and headed back to the mine, and in any case it’s nearly time for the show to begin. We stay here, and when Gerwulf comes galloping back down the hill from Theodora’s villa we’ll make our move.’
Silus and his remaining horsemen had followed their instructions to the letter since parting company from the raiders that afternoon, making a careful approach to the Ravenstone’s lower reaches along forest game paths in order to avoid the risk of being spotted by Gerwulf’s scouts. They waited in the trees that lined the road down through the valley’s lower section until Silus judged the right time to be upon them, then crept out across the open ground in silence, labouring under their heavy burdens until they reached the road that ran up the valley’s floor. Dividing his twenty men equally to either side of the road’s cobbled ribbon with whispered instructions, the decurion led both parties down the track away from the mine, telling off a pair of them with every count of sixty paces and hissing the same command.
‘One torch for every three steps!’
Once halted, each man quickly untied his bundle of twenty torches and set about pushing their sharpened ends deeply enough into the turf’s soft soil for the brands to stand upright without support. Once he had a six-hundred-pace-long double line of torches established along the road’s verges, Silus hurried back to the front of the line, gathering his men about him as he climbed the slope and shooting another glance at the sky. The lowest star in the constellation of Orion was only fractionally clear of the horizon, and the decurion nodded decisively.
‘Close enough. Never mind his knee touching the mountains, he’ll have a tree up his arse by the time we get them all lit if we don’t get on with it. Get your cloaks up.’
The cavalrymen did as he instructed, each of them raising his cloak to overlap with that of the man next to him to form a thick barrier of the dark, heavy wool between the decurion and the distant sentries standing guard on the earth wall. Silus took out flint and iron, quickly setting fire to a pile of tinder that he had gathered that afternoon. He put his own torch into the small blaze, waiting as the stave’s pitch-soaked head took fire, still hopefully invisible to the Germans.
‘Right my lads, it’s time to find out if the tribune’s plan is going to work. Drop your cloaks and get those torches lit!’
Scaurus led the small party back into the villa’s entrance hall, pausing at the door to be sure that everyone was ready. Arminius nodded to him from the small group’s rear, and the tribune opened the door as slowly as he could, smiling as the hinges groaned almost inaudibly. He stepped out into the darkness, opening his eyes wide to help them to adapt to the lack of illumination, then stepped cautiously forward with the Hamians following him and Theodora huddled into her cloak between them. Halfway across the villa’s courtyard he heard a minute sound, the scrape of booted feet on stone, and in the time it took him to realise that the noise had come from in front of him rather than from the party following him it was already too late to do anything. A familiar voice was raised in a shout of command, and the raiders froze as men emerged from the shadows around them, more men than the four of them could hope to fight off. The villa’s door flew open behind them, and Arminius spun to find himself facing three swords as the guards spread out behind the party to add their threat to that arraigned before them. As the circle of blades closed about them a voice spoke from the darkness.
‘Well now, Tribune, I’d like to say that this is an unexpected pleasure, but in all honesty your coming here was so predictable that I’d be lying. Once that bright young beneficiarius had come and gone I knew it wouldn’t be long before you made your appearance, although I hardly thought you’d go about it quite this naively. Put down your swords or my men will have no option but to butcher you where you stand.’
Scaurus bent and placed his weapon on the courtyard’s flagstones, hearing the sounds of blades being lowered to the stones behind him. Gerwulf’s men moved in with their blades held ready to kill, and the tribune watched with the point of a soldier’s sword inches from his face as the prefect stepped forward and sized up the party’s strength with a triumphant smirk.
‘So, what have we here? The bold tribune, come to rescue his lover, his faithful bodyguard, two rather disposable-looking soldiers, and my own dear girl.’
Theodora walked out of the small group, the Germans lifting their blades to allow her to pass, and she put an affectionate arm around Gerwulf’s waist, kissing him on the cheek.
‘Well done my love. I was actually afraid that they were going to make off with me, but you seem to have arrived just in time.’
‘Indeed.’ The prefect looked at Scaurus and his men with a calculating expression for a moment, then flicked a hand at the watch officer commanding his escort. ‘I’ll keep the officer and his servant; you can kill the other two.’
‘Yes, my lord Wolf!’
The Hamians were dragged away to the other side of the courtyard by a pair of men apiece, their scuffles of
resistance swiftly silenced by the watch officer’s stabbing sword blows. Scaurus stared at Gerwulf with a sad expression, shaking his head in disgust.
‘You can’t help yourself, can you, Gerwulf? That urge to see men die never gets any weaker, does it?’
The German laughed in his face.
‘In life Scaurus, as you well know, there are killers and there are victims. And I have no intention of becoming the latter through demonstrating any weakness of the kind that has brought you here to me. We’ll go back into the villa now, shall we, and get a fire burning? I’m curious to see just how quickly you feel like telling me how you ever expected to evict me from this tidy little fortress you built for me, once you’ve felt the kiss of red-hot iron a few times.’
Theodora waved a hand dismissively.
‘There’s no need to torture him, he’s already told me what’s happening. Apparently there’s a legion marching on the valley, and it will arrive tonight.’
Gerwulf shook his head with a bark of derision.
‘Bullshit! Legions don’t march in the dark, and even if such an attack was possible there’s no way that infantry could have got here from Porolissum that quickly. He was feeding you false information’ – a thoughtful tone entered the German’s voice – ‘which makes me wonder just how much the tribune here knew about our relationship before now? Perhaps we’ll do without the hot iron and get straight to the point here and now, with nothing more sophisticated than the point of my dagger for an incentive to talk.’
He slid the weapon from its sheath and stepped forward, raising the knife’s point to Scaurus’s eye. The Roman ignored the imminent threat, shaking his head at Gerwulf once more with a pitying note in his voice.
‘You’ve miscalculated, Gerwulf. The Sarmatae came to battle before we even reached the border, and they got their barbarian arses kicked in for their trouble. It seems some savages just can’t be educated, doesn’t it? We were already marching south as the advance guard for Clodius Albinus and his legion’s return to Apulum when the news of this rather spectacular piece of larceny arrived, and the legatus has had his men at the double pace ever since. He’s given orders for you to be taken alive at all costs, since he wants to make an example of you that won’t be forgotten for a while. Your future holds nothing more than torture and protracted death, and Theodora’s too, I’d imagine. You’re about to find out what happens when you piss off a Roman aristocrat by biting the hand that’s been feeding you.’
05 - The Wolf's Gold Page 37
