by Nick Brown
It was another simple decision. They didn’t stand a chance with him; nor could he be left alive for Volosus.
‘General, can you do it yourself?’
‘I think so. Go, lad. Tell the emperor I was strong. Tell him.’
Indavara retreated a few steps. ‘Corbulo, we have to move.’
The rest of the cavalry had almost caught up with the other three. Despite their attempts to keep their horses on the move, Enca loosed another bolt which struck a mount. It bolted away, depositing the rider into the mud.
Cassius slipped his dagger from its sheath and offered it to Dolabella. His single open eye could not focus and he only gripped the weapon when Cassius found his fingers.
‘Corbulo, the infantry.’
The quickest of them were now closer than the cavalry. They had abandoned their shields and were moving at some speed.
‘You two go. We need as much of a start as we can get.’
Enca turned and ran past him. The untended horses were now milling around. Cassius was glad to see that Simo had only taken a single pack.
‘You too, Simo!’
With a last anguished glance at Patch, the attendant joined Amarante and Ioanna as they followed Enca into the trees.
Indavara sent a final arrow towards the infantry then shouldered his bow.
Cassius felt the general slump backwards onto the ground, unconscious once more.
He knew what he had to do; and it seemed only right that he do it. Somehow, he had known it might come to this. He grabbed the dagger from the general’s loose fingers.
‘May the honoured gods forgive me.’ He plunged the dagger deep into Dolabella’s heart.
The blow did not wake the general or cause any other reaction. Cassius cursed the gods as he threw the dagger aside.
‘Come on!’ Indavara pulled him up.
A spear thudded into the grass only a couple of feet away.
They ran for the trees.
XVIII
Cassius had never been anywhere quite like it. The overhanging branches of the weeping willows reached almost to the ground and the closely-packed larches were surrounded by thickets of undergrowth. There was not a single patch of open ground or grass visible. Any area not occupied by fallen branches, decaying leaves or vicious brambles was covered by sprawling pale green ferns.
Cassius knew that without Enca they would have already been caught. He’d heard the shouts of their enemies behind them and to his left but they hadn’t caught up. The Gaulish scout seemed to possess an almost preternatural ability to read the territory ahead, even though it could often not be seen. On occasion, even he was caught out and they had to move laterally or briefly retrace their steps; but for the most part the column of six moved swiftly. Cassius was at the rear with Indavara but he’d observed the scout repeatedly skirt neatly around a thicket or find some invisible route through the shadows.
Nobody said a word and they all seemed to understand the need to keep moving. The infantry and cavalry had been no more than a minute behind them but they’d been slowed down by Enca and Indavara, who’d taken it in turns to drop back and loose a few arrows. Enca had also caught wind of some dispute that seemed to suggest a disagreement between the soldiers and the horsemen. This was no surprise to Cassius: enmity between the two had been a feature of Roman army life for centuries.
He could not believe it was a coincidence that they’d almost been caught between the two forces. Surely Volosus had a hand in this. He was hunting them.
Tripping on a tree stump obscured by fern, he reminded himself to concentrate on the here and now. When Enca led them through another patch of willows, Cassius emerged with yet more detritus stuck in his hair and on his tunic. The six passed under the rotting trunk of tree that had snapped in two and lodged in the ground, forming an unlikely triangle. They came to a narrow, stinking ditch. Enca located a drier patch and across they went.
Cassius was greatly impressed by the two women. He’d heard the odd sob from Ioanna but Amarante pressed on silently, regularly helping her companion. But it was the state of their feet that halted progress.
Sheltered by a willow, Enca knelt beside the women, who wore only the sandals they had escaped in. Their exposed skin was already dark with dirt and laced by cuts and scrapes.
‘We should wrap them,’ said Simo, brushing greenery from his sweat-soaked forehead. ‘I have a spare tunic we can use.’ Once he’d retrieved it from his pack, he cut it into pieces with his dagger and set to work with Enca.
Ioanna looked at the ground, rubbing her brow anxiously. Amarante pushed her hair away from her eyes and glanced up at Cassius. He managed an encouraging smile that she returned. It seemed odd to be struck by such a thought at such a time but he couldn’t help himself:
She is quite lovely.
‘Must have been an hour by now,’ added Indavara while re-lacing his boots.
‘About that,’ replied Cassius. ‘Enca, you said this place is four or five miles across. We must have covered one and half at least.’
‘Probably, sir.’
He and Simo were making swift work of the wrapping.
‘They’ll expect us to keep heading west.’
The scout seemed to read his mind. ‘Sir, we have some distance. If we turn back-’
‘I know. But they won’t expect it. There are still at least five hours of daylight. They can corral us all the way to the other side. If we can hide then get back past them, we stay close to the river.’
‘What if they have dogs?’ said Simo.
‘If they have dogs, we’re finished,’ replied Cassius. ‘Enca, those low thickets of undergrowth vary in size. We should avoid the larger ones – too obvious. Find one that can cover the six of us. We will lie there, cover ourselves and wait for sundown.’
The scout nodded but Cassius sensed uncertainty.
‘Well?’
‘If there’s a better solution, sir, I’m too tired to think of it.’
‘Then lead on.’
Enca found the location within a half hour. The thicket contained no fallen trees that might easily – and obviously – hide the group. It was a low collation of fern and brambles no higher than four feet and no wider than twenty. The Gaul was last to enter, by which time he had circled the thicket three times to ensure the others were well disguised. The six lay with their feet close together, facing outward, anything metallic or colourful covered by their cloaks. They had all daubed their faces with soil and Cassius could not help feeling like some desperate, hunted animal – which he supposed he was. The scout entered the hide backwards, doing his best to obscure any sign of his passage.
Cassius lay on his front between Indavara and Amarante.
The bodyguard peered over his shoulder, watching the scout. ‘Bloody useful, that Enca.’
‘You can say that again. I might ask him if he wants a permanent job. He can replace you.’
‘Very funny. Didn’t see you volunteering to descend a two-hundred-foot rope.’
‘Well, some of us are meant for leadership. Others are best suited to climbing around like monkeys. Seriously though, excellent work.’
‘Thanks. Listen – the general. You had no choice.’
‘I shall have to keep telling myself that.’
Once Enca was in position, all became quiet. Cassius couldn’t see much beyond the hide but he listened intently. He heard something but swiftly realised it was just Ioanna whispering a prayer. She stopped when Amarante elbowed her. The young woman turned to Cassius and rolled her eyes.
‘She wishes we’d stayed at the fortress.’
‘Not you?’
‘Couldn’t stand another moment with those pigs.’
‘If we get out of here, it might be better to separate.’
Amarante tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Now only inches away, Cassius gazed at her: the graceful lines of her neck, that inviting mouth. When she saw what he was doing, he flushed.
Amarante didn’t seem to care.
Cassius guessed she’d spent much of her life enduring such attention.
‘No,’ she said resolutely. ‘You got me out of the fortress. You’ll get me over the river.’
He felt rather buoyed by the vote of confidence. ‘And from there? Home?’
‘I have no home. My family sold me.’
She said it with no hint of emotion. He could tell it was something she had said many times before; something she had come to accept.
Cassius could imagine she fetched quite a price. And he could imagine what the purchasers used her for. More than once, he’d heard women – young women, especially – describe their beauty as a curse.
‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-five. And you, Cassius?’
Stupid though it was, he thrilled at her use of his name. ‘Twenty-three. Will you pray, Amarante?’
‘I once prayed to the gods for an hour, every day, for a year. It changed nothing. They don’t listen. They don’t care.’
Indavara felt Simo nudge him. Upon waking, he instinctively gripped the sword-hilt beneath his fingers. A swift look around established that there was no immediate danger.
‘How can you sleep?’ asked the attendant.
‘Easy. How long was I out?’
‘Half-hour.’
‘Hear anything?’
‘I don’t think so. You have moss stuck to your face.’
Indavara wiped it off and looked around. Enca was drinking from a flask. Ioanna also seemed to be sleeping. Cassius and Amarante were gazing outward. Indavara hadn’t been surprised to see Cassius trying to get to know her better. He was never able to resist a beautiful girl and Amarante was certainly that. In fact, she was so beautiful that Indavara hadn’t summoned the courage to talk to her yet.
‘Wonder how Patch is doing.’
Simo just shook his head.
‘Try not to worry. You know what he’s like, he’ll hang around where we left him. We’ll get him later.’
Indavara knew that was unlikely. He’d tried not to get so attached to the beast but they had already rescued him once. It was horrible to lose him again.
‘Maybe he just walked down to the riverbank,’ said Simo. ‘For the best grass.’
‘Maybe. Anything to eat?’
Simo fished into his pack. ‘I’ll leave the cheese wrapped up – the smell. Got some raisins somewhere. Here.’
Indavara took the handful and decided to chew them slowly. He hadn’t eaten for a while and who knew when he would get the chance again?
‘Wish I was back at that inn – The Mercury’s Watch. I tell you, I could have stayed there forever.’
Simo nodded. Indavara knew the attendant wouldn’t complain with his master in earshot but guessed he shared his view that their luck had to run out sooner or later. Too many times they had been thrown into danger by the likes of Abascantius and Venator. With what he’d done at the fortress, he believed he’d gone a long way to restoring his confidence in himself. He hadn’t lost his second life after all; and still had a chance of rediscovering his first.
But what was the point if they were caught or killed? Corbulo had a nasty habit of ending up in the most dangerous situations imaginable. Even though they’d had a quiet time back in Antioch, Indavara reckoned all three of them were ready to leave the dangerous life behind permanently.
‘What was it like up on that rope?’ asked Simo. ‘Sounded terrifying.’
‘Slightly more terrifying than sliding off that statue on Rhodes, slightly less terrifying than falling off that viaduct in Berytus. Falling is never good.’
A distant shout.
‘Oh no,’ said Simo.
‘It’s all right,’ replied Indavara. ‘We need them to come this way – come past us.’
‘I shall say a prayer nonetheless.’
Only when the shouts were joined by other sounds did they know the enemy soldiers were truly close: the snap of twigs underfoot; the jangle of equipment; the curses and complaints. It was difficult to be sure of anything from within the hide but Cassius reckoned the first group passed to their right. He and his companions remained absolutely still and kept their heads down; prey striving to give no clue to predator.
Then came a quieter period before a larger, louder group approached. For a few awful moments, Cassius felt sure that they were intent on marching straight through the thicket but the soldiers separated to go around. There seemed to be dozens of them, urged on by some officer who was clearly now dealing with a tiring, reluctant force. One man asked exactly who it was they were hunting. The officer claimed not to know and pointed out that his subordinate didn’t need to know either.
Another quarter-hour passed and it seemed to Cassius that their enemy were long gone. But just as he turned to gain another view, Indavara gripped his arm. The bodyguard nodded forward and soon Cassius heard someone moving through the undergrowth. Not daring to shift even his head, he had to wait to catch a glimpse. He spied a worn leather boot, the breeches of a cavalryman and the polished shaft of a spear. Ten feet away; so close he could hear his breath.
The man coughed. He let the spear go and it fell forward into the fern, the tip landing within a yard of Cassius’s head. Then came the rattle of a belt buckle, the sound of flowing urine and the splatter as it hit the earth.
Once he was done, the soldier buckled his belt. He took a step forward and bent down to pick up his spear. As he lifted it, the tip knocked a frond of fern aside, exposing Cassius’s position.
He didn’t dare move a muscle. He felt sure the man could see him. He hoped Indavara was ready to strike.
‘Stupid pissing waste of time job.’ After this utterance, the cavalryman sighed and set off to the right. He shouted to some compatriot then continued on his way.
Cassius turned to Indavara, who shook his head in disbelief at the narrow escape. Only then did Cassius remember that – like him – his face was camouflaged by soil.
Moments later, a single man marched past the thicket. Enca got a good view of him and quietly reported that he was an optio, possibly bringing up the rear to round up stragglers and keep the shape of the search party.
Once he had disappeared, the scout crawled over to Cassius. ‘No more than two hours until nightfall. We could wait.’
‘How far to the southern edge?’
‘Only a mile or so.’
‘Yes, we’ll wait for dusk. They’ll likely surround the Maze but they’d need a cohort to cover the whole thing. We’ll find a way through. And if we continue south?’
‘I’ve been giving that some thought. Beyond Cravana there is an old farmhouse occupied by a small group of Christians. It’s isolated; they chose it so that they might live and worship in peace. I’ve not been in this area for a while but they’re probably still there.’
‘How can that help us?’
‘They sustain themselves by selling good at various markets on the river. They must have a boat.’
Having eaten what little food they had, they set off again with the Maze cloaked by gloom and shadow. Enca of course took the lead and Indavara covered the rear. Cassius was behind the scout, who took immense care with his route. There was so little open space that they could have passed within ten feet of a watcher and not known it. Cassius hoped that the search might have moved on from the Maze but he doubted they would be so fortunate.
Nearing the southern edge, they began to sight torches placed at regular intervals.
‘Trying to hem us in,’ said Cassius as he halted beside the scout. But the four torches in view covered at least a hundred yards.
‘Now is the most obvious time for us to get through,’ replied Enca. ‘Should we wait?’
‘We have a lot of open ground to cover and we’ll not last another day on this side of the river. We have to use the darkness.’
‘Yes, sir. I’ll aim for a point between those two torches.’
‘Very well.’
Cassius passed this back along the line. He was again impressed by the stoic
ism of the women. Amarante was evidently strong-minded by nature but even Ioanna seemed to have pulled herself together.
Enca now moved step by step. Cassius stayed close behind him, wincing at every noise. He kept one hand on his sword belt to stop it moving around and knew that his abandoned mail-shirt would have been utterly impractical. He hoped he wouldn’t need it.
Reaching the edge of the Maze seemed to take an age. Enca eventually stopped between two larches. The six of them gathered close.
Cassius spoke: ‘Common sentry pattern is to have a man without a torch stationed in the middle or walking between those that do. Enca and I will go forward and check. I’ll come back and fetch you if we’re clear.’
Despite the dark, he felt incredibly vulnerable as he and the scout cleared the trees and advanced slowly through thick grass. Crouched over, eyes constantly on the move, they continued until almost level with the line of torches. To the right were three, the highest of them upon the ridge where the cavalry had initially appeared. To the left, Cassius counted eight.
‘I don’t see anyone,’ said Enca.
‘Me neither. And the men with the torches are alone. Either it’s a token gesture or they haven’t enough troops.’
‘There might be others beyond the line, sir. Once we’re through, we can cut down towards the river, stay clear of the road.’
‘Very well. Wait here.’
Cassius returned to the others, still casting his gaze left and right.
‘Looks clear. Everyone with me.’
With the other four in tow, Cassius retraced his steps until he reached the hunched figure of the scout. They paused while one of the torch-bearers moved but he didn’t stray far from his original position.
‘Let’s go.’
Remaining in single file, they continued south across the grassy slope. Cassius now avoided looking at the torches to make the most of his vision.
A hundred yards.
Two hundred.
Enca veered to the left. They encountered a shallow ditch, then the ruins of some small outhouse where Indavara stumbled and cursed.
