The Last Battle

by Nick Brown

  Gutha shrugged then swigged more wine and took several steps towards the house. Then he stopped and looked back at Indavara.

  ‘The Scorpion Pass. You must know that I would have beaten you.’

  ‘Nah.’

  Though glad to see the bodyguard’s old wilfulness returning, Cassius could not imagine that even he would stand a chance against the German.

  ‘Now we’ll never know,’ added Gutha.

  ‘Don’t bet on it.’

  Half an hour later, Amarante tried again to free herself. When that didn’t work, she took to spitting curses in some Gaulish dialect. Cassius could not blame her. She had clearly seen an opportunity for a new life and his actions had taken it away. When he glanced in her direction, she fixed him with a narrow-eyed glare.

  ‘At least Enca is safe,’ said Simo. ‘I don’t suppose he might be able to bring help?’

  ‘Not in time,’ replied Cassius.

  Volosus strode out of the farmhouse, followed by Bibulus and Gutha. He had abandoned his own weapon and now Cassius’s sword belt and blade hung from his shoulder. The officer had his own flask of wine and all three had a glazed look about them. Cassius might normally have considered this a good thing but he reckoned that – as captives – this might make their situation worse.

  Despite his great size, Gutha worried him less than the others. His motivation was monetary gain, not vengeance. Bibulus looked every inch the sort of sordid, vicious swine that Cassius had encountered far too often. And everything he had heard and seen of Volosus suggested that the man cared about nothing other than himself and his own success. Cassius knew he had been a fool to brag after their victory at Hawkhaven. He had humiliated the man.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t try reasoning with him. ‘Officer Volosus.’

  ‘Officer Corbulo.’ Volosus gazed down at him, slightly shaky on his feet.

  ‘We both know that war is close. But there is still time to change allegiance. I’ve no doubt you could offer some useful knowledge on Tetricus’s strategy.’

  Volosus gave an exaggerated nod. ‘The thought had occurred. But strategy is about to give way to tactics. You see, Prefect Gratidius is to cross the river tomorrow. Personally, I do not approve but the emperor has elected to take the initiative.’ Volosus shrugged. ‘We shall see how the dice land.’ He gestured to the others. ‘Well, we shall. You will never know, young Cassius. Bibulus, take her through.’

  As the attendant approached, Amarante cursed at him.

  Volosus darted forward and slapped her heavily across the face. ‘There is no need to preserve your looks now, girl. You’d do well to remember that.’

  Despite the tears rolling down her face, Amarante continued cursing. As Bibulus untied her and dragged her into the farmhouse, Cassius couldn’t bear to watch. It was a warm day but dread had chilled his entire body. And he felt ashamed that his fear for himself overwhelmed his fears for the others. He was sure that Volosus would reserve the worst of his wrath for him.

  ‘Well, you do look the part,’ the agent told Indavara. ‘A former gladiator, eh? And Gutha tells me you’re a handy warrior. But you don’t seem to have much sense. Should have made your master keep going across the river.’

  Indavara said nothing.

  ‘Could he be a useful employee for me, Gutha?’

  Gutha shook his head. ‘You said it yourself. He stuck with his friend. A loyalist. Not a pragmatist.’

  Volosus nodded and turned his attention to Simo.

  ‘And this fat pig – another unfortunate condemned to death by his master. What’s your name?’

  ‘Simo.’

  Volosus kicked him squarely in the gut. ‘Address me correctly, servant.’

  As Simo bent over and struggled for breath, Indavara spoke, barely able to contain his rage. ‘You want to kick someone, kick me, you evil son of a bitch.’

  ‘All in good time.’

  Bibulus exited the farmhouse once more.

  ‘Now him,’ ordered Volosus, drawing the eagle-head sword. He approached Cassius and held the tip of the blade near his neck while Bibulus untied the rope holding him against the post. Leaving the rope that bound his hands, Bibulus lifted Cassius to his feet and pushed him towards the door.

  ‘Volosus,’ said Indavara. ‘You are an officer. A professional. Corbulo and the rest of us were just doing our jobs. We only killed those we had to; spared you and the others. It is not just to harm without reason.’

  Volosus chuckled. ‘By Jupiter, I’ve heard it all now. A gladiator who believes that life is just.’

  Bibulus kept one hand on the rope between Cassius’s wrists and the other on his shoulder as he guided him through the farmhouse to a room Cassius had not seen. Two straw mattresses and two blankets had been thrown in a heap at the far end. Closer, several lengths of rope lay on the floor. Amarante – whose hands were now bound in front of her – had been tied to an iron ring upon the left side of a chest. The chest was very large, made of hardwood and iron. An upturned table had been added to the top to weigh it down. Amarante was sitting on the stone floor, watching as the three men entered.

  Volosus was last in and he kept Cassius’s blade hovering ominously near while Bibulus retied his ropes. The attendant whistled as he bound him to the ring on the right side of the chest, so close that Cassius’s left shoulder was against the wood. He knelt there, watching as Bibulus picked up more rope and began tying one length to an iron bracket embedded in the wall beside the door. Volosus observed with faint amusement as Bibulus led the rope across the room to Amarante.

  ‘Face the wall,’ he ordered while tapping the blade-tip against the floor. ‘On your knees.’

  One cheek still discoloured by Volosus’s slap, Amarante complied.

  Bibulus attached the rope to her left ankle and ensured the line was tight before tying it off. ‘Just the one leg, sir?’

  ‘Yes, that will do.’

  Bibulus now took the second rope and repeated the process with Cassius, who thought he was about to be sick. Whatever depraved game this man had in mind, he could see no way out of it. The chest had not moved an inch and the iron bracket looked solid.

  They were utterly defenceless. He had put them in this position. He could still not look at Amarante.

  I could have killed them at the fortress.

  I could have kept going across the river.

  This is my fault.

  My fault.

  ‘Very good, Bibulus. Now shut the door. You and Gutha can remain outside for the moment.’

  ‘Sir.’

  When the door closed and the sound of Bibulus’s footsteps had faded, Volosus let out a long sigh. Cassius turned to look over his shoulder as the enemy agent dragged his sword along the floor. The shriek of metal on stone gave way to another chuckle.

  ‘And so here we are.’

  Volosus ran the tip of the sword along Cassius’s left calf. ‘For you two, no choices. For me, too many.’ He turned his attention to Amarante. Hooking the blade under the hem of her tunic, he pushed it up her right thigh. Cassius could not see her face – the chest was between them.

  ‘Ah, what’s this?’ Volosus bent down and plucked a tiny coin from the floor. ‘Perhaps we can play a game of emperor or god.’

  ‘Why don’t you shut up and just do whatever you’re going to do?’ snapped Amarante.

  Cassius considered whether he might be able to aim a kick at Volosus but with his right leg tied tight, his range of movement was limited.

  ‘Girl, whenever you speak, you worsen my mood. I had looked forward to an easy time with you but if it has to be difficult, I will still get my pleasure. In fact, I might even get more. Cassius can call emperor or god. If he wins, he will go second.’

  Cassius was trying not to imagine what Volosus had in mind. He couldn’t bring himself to answer.

  ‘Well? emperor or god?’

  Cassius felt the blade on his back, running up his tunic towards his neck. He shivered as the cold metal touched his s
kin.

  ‘You’ll still be able to speak after I stick this in, so you might as well say it now.’

  ‘God.’

  The blade was removed. A moment later, Cassius heard the coin land.

  ‘Emperor. You will be first, Cassius. I think that is for the best. I would like to finish with Aphrodite.’

  Suddenly the sword clattered to the floor and Cassius felt a hand run along his right leg. Volosus lowered himself. He lifted Cassius’s tunic up and dropped it on his back. His fingers touched Cassius’s loincloth.

  There seemed little doubt now about how he would take his revenge.

  With both hands and one leg tethered, Cassius could do little to resist but he tried to kick out anyway. Volosus gripped his free left leg at the knee and lifted it off the ground.

  ‘Struggle if you wish. It only makes it all the more enjoyable for me.’

  ‘Yah!’

  Cassius felt a jolt on the rope tied to his leg. Amarante cried out again, pulling as hard as she could at the tether. There were only a few inches of give but she kept at it.

  Volosus sighed. ‘You really are an annoying bitch.’

  Cassius turned and watched him get to his feet.

  Amarante pulled on the rope a fourth time.

  ‘Look what you’re doing to yourself, girl. By the gods – know when you’re beaten.’

  The wrenching of the rough rope on her leg had torn at the skin above her ankle. Blood was already dripping onto the stone. Even so, she did it again, hair whipping through the air above the chest.

  ‘Stop that!’ Volosus recovered the sword. ‘Stop it or I’ll-’

  ‘Look at the wall!’ blurted Amarante.

  Cassius craned his neck around and saw brick dust falling below the iron bracket that both ropes were fixed to. Amarante had loosened it. Cassius also pulled. The ring shuddered.

  ‘Gods, I’m tempted to run you through right now,’ spat Volosus, leaning over Amarante, sword aimed at her neck.

  Despite the pain of the rope cutting in, Cassius summoned all his strength and pulled. The bracket came free and clattered across the floor.

  Knowing he would not get a second chance, Cassius twisted around, ready to kick out at Volosus. But Amarante had already realised her legs were free and she lashed out, striking him in the groin.

  Dropping the sword and wheezing with pain, Volosus tottered backwards. Cassius stuck out a leg and tripped him. The agent stumbled and landed heavily on his back.

  Aware that a single shout might bring the others running, Cassius dropped both his legs over Volosus’s neck and pressed down. Volosus bucked instantly but was evidently still winded from the kick. He did not get a chance to recover.

  Amarante stretched out and hammered her heel down into his groin. A second blow landed in his stomach and she struck again and again with a ferocity Cassius had seldom seen.

  Every downward strike further weakened Volosus, who gasped with every impact. Cassius slid down so that it was thighs on his enemy’s neck rather than his shins. Amarante kicked down again and again, blood from her wounded ankle flying in every direction.

  Cassius could not see the agent’s face but he could hear him struggling and gasping for breath; feel him getting weaker by the moment. Amarante stretched even further from the wall and now kicked down onto his chest. Something cracked.

  Volosus was no longer even gasping. In fact, he wasn’t moving at all.

  ‘Stop.’

  She kept hitting him, her grunts now mingled with sobs.

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Cassius, fearful that the noise would bring the others.

  At last she did so.

  Cassius moved his legs off and looked down at Volosus. The agent’s face was turned towards him: swollen, red, spittle dripping onto the floor. One eye was covered by his grey hair, the other was still.

  ‘He’s dead.’ Cassius got up on his knees.

  Amarante was just sobbing now, lying on the floor, head hidden by the chest.

  Even though Volosus would no longer trouble them, they were still tied to the chest. ‘We have to get out of here. Can you push the sword towards me?’

  She didn’t reply.

  ‘Amarante, please. We may not have much time.’

  She sat up, strands of clammy hair covering her face.

  ‘I can’t reach the sword. Push it towards me with your foot.’

  Cassius winced as the weapon scraped against the floor. Once on his backside, he clamped his boots around the handle. Turning to his left, he spun around until the blade faced the wall. Now came the difficult part:

  Moving his feet until he had one boot under the handle, he lifted it to try and wedge the tip against the wall. Only then would it be high enough for him to cut the ropes binding his hands. At the first attempt, the blade missed the wall and struck the floor.

  ‘Blood of the gods.’ The noise had seemed terribly loud.

  At the second attempt, he wedged the tip against the wall but when he brought his hands down to try and cut the rope, the sword fell again. For the third attempt, he held the blade up with his left foot. It was awkward but now he could move the rope against the blade.

  Once he had cut the line tying him to the ring, he sliced through the one binding his wrists.

  By the time he got over to Amarante, she was on her knees, staring at Volosus.

  ‘Stay still.’ Cassius carefully cut through the ropes. ‘Thank you. You are very brave.’

  She took his hand. But as she stood, Amarante’s leg buckled. Her ankle was bleeding badly.

  ‘We’ll bandage that as soon as we can. We have to help the others first.’

  Cassius drew the dagger from Volosus’s belt and handed it to her. Still holding his sword, he led the way to the door. He could hear nothing outside so carefully raised the latch and eased it open. The corridor that ran the length of the farmhouse was empty.

  He recalled that Gutha had been unarmed and Bibulus had carried only a sheathed dagger. Deciding their chances were better outside, he opened the door further and ushered Amarante into the corridor. He closed it behind him and tiptoed to the open front door where they had first arrived.

  Once outside, he turned left and stalked towards the corner. Behind him, Amarante gave a sharp intake of breath. Cassius spun around but there was no one there.

  She was looking at the Brethren’s dog. The dead creature lay in grass a few yards away, several wounds upon its body.

  Cassius continued up to the corner and then around it. Staying low in case Gutha and Bibulus were anywhere near the windows, he advanced, checking regularly to ensure Amarante was close behind. The tears had passed now and that narrow-eyed resolve had returned to her delicate face. Cassius wondered that the gods could endow one individual with so many admirable attributes. They had certainly not favoured her in terms of circumstance.

  Carefully passing an open door, the pair at least reached the rear corner. Cassius knelt down and inched his head around it. Indavara and Simo were no more than twenty feet away, still on their knees and bound, now whispering to each other. Bibulus was sitting on the same fence ten feet to the left, gazing out at the river, a flask of wine in his hand.

  Where’s Gutha?

  Cassius guessed either the kitchen or the latrine. He might come outside at any moment or go to check on Volosus. This was an opportunity and he had to take it. But there was little chance of creeping up undetected behind Bibulus and Gutha might easily see him. What he needed to do was take the attendant out swiftly, then free Indavara to even the odds. He could see only one efficient way of doing that.

  ‘Amarante, I need your help. Can you run?’

  Blood had stained much of her foot beneath the damaged ankle but she answered without hesitation. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Head towards the river as if fleeing. When you see Bibulus, turn and run back past this corner. I’ll take him out. While I do that, you go to Indavara – cut him free with your dagger. Him first. Can you do that?’

&nbs
p; ‘Now?’

  ‘Wait.’ Cassius pressed himself close to the corner, sword hidden behind him. ‘Don’t go too far. I need him to run around here from the left so he doesn’t see me.’ Cassius looked back along the house to ensure Gutha hadn’t crept up behind them. ‘Go now.’

  He was not surprised to see Amarante play her part to perfection.

  She ran about ten paces, acted surprised to see Bibulus, then spun around. Despite a slight stumble, she ran back past Cassius.

  ‘Gutha!’ cried Bibulus.

  For a moment, Cassius thought the attendant hadn’t moved but then he heard heavy footfalls coming towards him. As Bibulus rounded the corner, Cassius stepped out and swung one-handed. The heavy blade sang as it connected with the man’s chin and the impact knocked him clean off his feet. Aware of Amarante rushing back past him, Cassius sunk a boot into Bibulus’s side. As he held up his hands to defend himself, Cassius adjusted his grip and drove the blade downward into his chest. Bibulus shrieked as the blade stuck him and sank lower. Cassius cringed at the noise of metal splintering bone.

  Knowing he had done enough, he pulled it free, leaving Bibulus to his last breaths.

  Rounding the corner, he was relieved to see Amarante kneeling behind Indavara, already cutting the ropes. Simo looked up, eyes wide, as his master came forward.

  ‘Quickly,’ hissed Indavara.

  Cassius heard movement within the house.

  He warily approached the doorway. Though he had killed two of the trio, he knew the third was by far the most dangerous.

  Indavara was free.

  Thank the gods.

  Grimacing as he shook his aching hands and arms, the bodyguard hurried over to Cassius.

  They heard Gutha before they saw him. Ducking his head, the giant exited the farmhouse, now armed again with his double-bladed axe.

  Indavara gestured to Cassius who handed him the sword then went to help Amarante. Her hands were shaking badly but she soon cut Simo free. Cassius took the knife from her and walked back to Indavara. The bodyguard now stood ten paces from the mercenary, who surveyed the scene calmly.