Veterans of Rome (Book 9 of the Veteran of Rome Series)

by William Kelso

  “Go Sir,” Indus cried out. “I will cover you and join you on the southern bank. “Go now before they find their courage.”

  Without hesitating, Marcus cried out to his horse and, storming down the side of the embankment the beast went splashing head first into the Rhine and began to swim. Grimly Marcus held on as the cold water came surging up to his waist and the horse snorted and gasped. The current was strong and soon the beast was struggling. Twisting round Marcus was just in time to see Indus and his horse splashing into the river. Frantically Indus’s beast began to swim out into the open channel with Indus urging it onwards. Marcus hissed. The Batavian horses could swim and carry a soldier in full armour across a river but not two men. They were not going to get across. On the northern embankment four of their pursuers had suddenly appeared, one of them limping along on foot and were shouting to each other as they gazed at the two desperate horses swimming across the Rhine. But the men made no attempt to follow them into the water.

  As he sensed his horse starting to panic Marcus swore and grasping hold of Armin’s long blond hair with his right hand he boldly flung himself and Armin from the horse and into the river. Armin’s head went under and as he resurfaced, spluttering and coughing, he cried out in panic for his hands were tied behind his back and he was still blindfolded.

  “Cut me free. Cut me free,” the young man yelled in a panic-stricken voice as he struggled to keep his head above the water.

  Gripping the young man’s hair, Marcus forced Armin to keep his head above the water. Close by, the horse was starting to pull away towards the southern bank.

  “Where are Elsa and Cassius hiding?” Marcus bellowed, as he furiously kicked his legs to keep them both afloat. “Tell me where your sister is, and I will cut you free.”

  Armin’s head went under again and, as he resurfaced spluttering and gasping for breath he cried out in panic.

  “Elsa’s still in Rome. She’s in Rome. She never left the city.”

  Angrily Marcus turned to look back at the stationary horsemen up on the embankment. The fifth man had now joined them on foot and was silently gazing at him from the shore. His pursuers were making no effort to continue the pursuit and as the current continued to push them downstream the distance between them was growing. Gasping for breath and struggling to keep himself and Armin afloat, Marcus turned and finding his strength he started to swim towards the southern bank dragging Armin along with him. Out in the river his horse, relieved of its heavy burden, was starting to swim in a more regular fashion, its head bobbing up and down in the water. Snatching a glance in Indus’s direction, Marcus saw that the Batavian was directing his horse towards Marcus’s mount with the intention of grasping hold of the reins and preventing the beast from bolting or swimming the wrong way. As he noticed Marcus looking at him, a cheeky, triumphant grin appeared on Indus’s face. They were going to get away.

  “You promised to cut me free,” Armin cried out in between a spluttering and coughing fit. “You promised.”

  “I lied,” Marcus hissed, as he grimly held onto the young man and dragged him through the water.

  Chapter Nineteen – News from Rome

  As the two horsemen trotted down the rutted country track towards the villa, a sudden commotion broke out ahead of them and Dylis’s twins came rushing out of the forest where they’d been picking mushrooms.

  “They’re back. They’re back,” the girls cried excitedly.

  Raising an arm in greeting, Marcus examined his farm as he and Indus rode towards the gates leading into the villa’s courtyard. Sitting directly in front of Marcus was Armin, a blindfold bound around his eyes and his hands tied behind his back. He looked miserable and exhausted. Marcus’s riding cloak was splattered with dried mud and his face covered in a fine layer of dust and sweat. He looked worried. But the villa and its outhouses seemed in good shape. All looked just like it had been when he’d left the place over a month ago. There was no obvious sign that Nigrinus or his men had paid a visit. Relieved, Marcus allowed himself to take a deep breath. The thought that something terrible had happened had grown worse the closer to home he’d gotten.

  It was afternoon and in the golden wheat fields a party of slaves had stopped working and were staring in the direction of the two horsemen. The fine-looking stone-built house with its smart red roof tiles gleamed in the fierce summer sun and in the glorious blue skies not a cloud could be seen. Glancing sideways Marcus grunted as he saw another party of slaves at work amongst the newly planted vines along the south facing ridge. As he and Indus reached the gates into the courtyard, Kyna and Jowan came hurrying towards him, their arms raised in greeting. Dismounting, Marcus pulled Armin from the horse and forced the silent young man down onto his knees. Then Kyna was upon him, flinging her arms around her husband. She was swiftly followed by Dylis’s daughters. The young women’s faces looked happy and they were laughing excitedly. Jowan, clutching a pickaxe, silently inclined his head in a respectful greeting as he quickly reached out to shake hands with Marcus.

  “Is everything all right?” Marcus asked as the women milled around him.

  “Everything is fine Marcus,” Kyna replied with a broad smile. “Dylis is away in Londinium on business. She has taken her son with her. Cunomoltus and Petrus are out with the dogs, hunting. They should be home before nightfall. We did not know when you would be back.”

  “Good. Good,” Marcus muttered in a relieved voice. “No unexpected visitors. No trouble?”

  “No trouble,” Kyna beamed joyously. “But whilst you were gone a messenger arrived with two letters. They are addressed to you Marcus. I think they have come from Rome. We have been waiting for your return before opening them.”

  “Letters,” Marcus frowned. “From Rome!”

  “That’s what the messenger said,” Kyna replied with a little shrug. “Both letters were delivered by the same man, but they bear different seals. They look important Marcus. The messenger belonged to the imperial postal service.”

  Looking puzzled, Marcus turned for a moment to gaze at where Jowan and Indus had untied the two sacks of Dacian gold and were carefully examining the coins. Then turning to the blindfolded Armin, whose hands were tied behind his back, Marcus forced the boy up onto his feet.

  “I recovered the gold,” Marcus growled. “Or most of it anyway and look who I found hiding out across the sea.”

  Opposite him, Kyna’s face drained of all emotion and her features hardened. For a moment she said nothing as she stared at the miserable blindfolded figure in front of her. Then without warning she raised her hand and slapped Armin hard across his face, eliciting a startled yelp of pain.

  ***

  In the night sky the stars, tiny pinpricks of light in the vast darkness, lit up the heavens, forming a fine tapestry of light. Outside on the villa’s terrace the family had gathered together around the large oak dining table. The slaves had carried the table out onto the terrace so that tonight the family could eat outside beneath the stars in the still, balmy summer air. Seated around the table, in the glow and the crackle of a large camp fire, Cunomoltus, Kyna, Jowan, Petrus, Indus and Dylis’s two daughters were silently and sombrely picking at the evening meal, as they listened to Marcus recounting his and Indus’s journey. The cooks had prepared a feast and the table was crammed with fine cutlery and plates of apples, dried beans, bread, meats, cheese, honey and olives, together with jugs of milk, water, mead and wine. At the very end of the table two empty chairs and plates stood untouched and respectfully left alone.

  “So, what are we going to do now?” Cunomoltus said as Marcus fell silent. “Before you left you mentioned that you had a plan?”

  Marcus took a sip of wine from his cup and then slowly reached out with his right hand to steady the shaking in his left arm.

  “The gold that Fergus brought back from Dacia will allow us to defend ourselves,” he growled. “It is the only defence capable of stopping Nigrinus and his associates. These are powerful men. The gold is our
only hope. We cannot fight Nigrinus like we did with Priscinus.”

  “But maybe we shall have to,” Petrus said with sudden foreboding.

  “Fergus will come to our aid,” Kyna said calmly, her eyes gleaming with the certainty of someone who was utterly sure of herself.

  Ignoring his wife, Marcus gently rubbed his left arm.

  “Armin has told me where Elsa and her husband Cassius are hiding,” he said. “Armin says they are still in Rome. He knows where she is.” Marcus paused as his face grew thoughtful. “I still have unfinished business with Elsa,” he said. “So, I am going to be sending a message to Elsa. I am going to tell her that I am holding her little brother and that if she wants him to stay alive, she should present herself to us here on Vectis. She should come here to Vectis.”

  Around the dining table the family quickly exchanged startled glances.

  “Do you think she will really come?” Petrus exclaimed. “After what she did to us? Do you really think she will risk coming here, even for her little brother?”

  “I don’t know,” Marcus replied with a shrug. “We shall see. But if she doesn’t, Armin will die, and his death will be on her conscience. That is the choice I am forcing her to make.”

  “Elsa is close to her brother,” Kyna interrupted in a sharp and unforgiving sounding voice. “When Marcus first adopted her, she agreed to come with him on condition that she and her brother would never be separated. She will come. She will come here to Vectis for Armin. I know she will.”

  “Then she is a brave girl, despite what she did to us,” Petrus said, raising his eyebrows and looking around the table.

  Silence descended around the table and, for a long moment, the only noise was the crackle and spitting of the camp fire.

  “And if she does come here,” Jowan said at last in a quiet voice, “what are you going to do to her Marcus?”

  Around the dining table all eyes turned to gaze at Marcus. For a moment Marcus did not reply, his eyes smouldering in the eerie glow of the fire.

  “This feud with Bestia, with Lucius, and now with Elsa,” he said as grimly he looked up at the faces around the table. “It has been going on for over thirty years now. It has blighted our lives. I am going to bring it to an end. If Elsa decides to come here to us on Vectis, I am going to end it once and for all.”

  ***

  It was late when Marcus wearily sat down at his desk in his small study and gazed down at the two tightly rolled scrolls of parchment that lay on the table before him. He was alone. Next to him on the table, a small portable oil lamp shaped like a human foot was burning and hissing quietly in the darkness. Picking up the first scroll he examined it. The letter bore the mark of the fiscus, the imperial treasury. Surprised Marcus raised his eyebrows. It must have come from Paulinus. Breaking the seal, he unrolled the parchment and started to read.

  Paulinus to Marcus, greetings old friend. It is my sombre duty to warn you that Nigrinus has had the senate declare you a fugitive and a murderer. You have been accused of being a traitor, a murderer and an enemy of the senate and the people of Rome. Nigrinus has had you stripped of your right to sit in the senate and has had your name removed from the senatorial lists. You and your family have been banned from standing for any government positions or for bidding for government contracts. Your house here in Rome has been confiscated by the state, your veteran’s charity shut down and every mention of you as a senator and magistrate is being erased from all government documents and records as I write this letter. The senate has even decreed that none may be permitted to ever mention your name again in the halls of the senate. Such animosity and rage, Marcus. I honestly have not seen such bitterness since the days when the senate plotted the overthrow of Domitian. Every government official is now legally obliged to have you arrested but news will be slow in reaching the most distant provinces and I suspect that not all officials will be so keen to carry out these orders.

  Still you should be under no illusion as to the precariousness of your position. Nigrinus knows where you are. He knows about your family on Vectis. If he catches you Marcus, he will kill you and your family. Even in this matter goes to court, expect any trial to be merely a show, a charade. Your Roman citizenship will provide scant protection. Nigrinus will never let you go. He is after your head. He told me that himself. Apparently one of the senators found dead in your home was his cousin. As you know Nigrinus is a busy, important man, the leader of our War Party faction. I do not think therefore that he has the time to leave Rome and personally travel to Britannia to find you. Instead he has announced and made it public knowledge that he is offering a private reward for your capture. It is a sizable amount of money, likely to stir the interest of the professional bounty hunters or such like scum. Your enemies are thus multiplied and may not be obvious to you at first. Do not underestimate Nigrinus. He is a powerful, influential and resourceful man. Be on your guard, Marcus.

  The good news is that you still have some supporters here in Rome. Take heart my old friend. I like to believe that friendship is stronger than politics. Lady Claudia and I have managed to discreetly spread the word amongst the senate that the charges against you are politically motivated. Hadrian’s faction, the Peace Party seem more receptive to such arguments than our own colleagues. But do not expect them to intervene. They too are outraged at the death of the two senators. We have also let it be known that your son Fergus is a close ally of Hadrian. I do not know what impact this will have but any government official looking to have you arrested may think twice about it when they realise the politics involved and the powerful connections that your family have.

  These are uncertain times here in Rome Marcus. I sense the mood is changing. It is with a heavy heart that I confess to believing that it is now more likely than ever that Hadrian shall become the next emperor. The signs are increasingly pointing to that outcome. Your son Fergus seems to have gambled on the right man, unlike us. It is ironic, for if Hadrian does become the next emperor, it is I who will be relying on your family’s mercy and friendship for my survival. There is little chance that Hadrian and the Peace Party will spare or forgive me, the War Party’s chief accountant. I miss our little chats old friend. Rome is not the same without you. May Fortuna look kindly on us both. Your friend, Paulinus to his Marcus.

  Thoughtfully Marcus lowered the scroll. Then quickly he read the letter again. When he was done he reached out for the second scroll and examined the seal.

  Lady Claudia to her Marcus. My dearest Marcus, will you let Kyna know that her son Ahern is safe and well under my protection. I am sure she worries about him every day and I wish to allay some of that burden. Ahern wishes you to know that his decision not to come with you was not done out of spite or bitterness. Despite the dangers he feels he is not yet ready to leave Rome and the exciting projects he wants to be part of. He feels that if he left the city now he would never again get a chance to be part of all that is new, innovative and exciting in his chosen scientific field. I hope you understand and I want you and Kyna to know that I shall always protect him. I am your friend and always will be.

  Here in Rome Marcus, I fear that the signs are that Hadrian shall become the next emperor and I am not alone in that judgement. Hadrian’s star is rising. It fills me with dread for the future. Internal discipline and loyalty amongst our faction, the War Party, is starting to fracture. Nigrinus has begun to see enemies everywhere. His suspicions are such that no one, not even his closest allies, are safe from his growing wrath and paranoia. Morale is falling. Some of our supporters are preparing for the worst, others I suspect are planning to switch sides like rats abandoning a sinking ship. I however am too old for such nonsense and cowardice. I have made up my mind that whatever happens I shall remain true to the War Party and despite what he has done to you, also to Nigrinus. He is after all the leader of our faction. Once one has chosen a side one must stick to one’s decision until the end. I do not fear death Marcus. I urge you not to despair. These days men of true coura
ge and nobility of heart are rare in Rome, but such men cannot ever be broken. They may die but they can never yield. They are the favoured amongst the gods. I shall pray to Diane, the huntress to protect you and your family. Farewell Marcus. Your loving Claudia.

  In his small gloomy study Marcus sighed and looked down at the neat handwriting. Then reaching out he fondly traced his finger over the words.

  Chapter Twenty – Dylis

  Under the late summer sun and a glorious blue sky, the golden wheat fields were full of activity. Wiping the sweat from his forehead Marcus straightened up and grimaced as he stretched his aching back. He was clad in loose-fitting farmer’s clothes. A wide brimmed sunhat gave him some protection from the burning heat and, in his right hand he was clutching a long-bladed scythe. Spread out in a line across the fields, the slaves and the whole household were hard at work harvesting the wheat with their scythes and small handheld knives. The slaves were singing as they worked, and, on the edge of the field, Jowan was shouting instructions to the men bringing up the ox drawn wagons. The animals were bellowing loudly. Gazing at the work, Marcus sighed. He was no farmer. He had never been cut out to labour on the land. He was a soldier but now that the harvest time had come he saw why every hand was needed. It was a mammoth task. The work was hard, but it looked like they were going to have a fine harvest this year and the knowledge that they would have a plentiful supply of food, seemed to have raised everyone’s spirits.