David Drake - Balefires

The serving woman suddenly chattered something in her own language. The man snarled back at her and she fell silent.

"Could you catch any of that?" Vettius asked Dama under his breath.

The little Cappadocian shrugged."She said something about bandits. He told her to be quiet. But I don't really know the language, you know."

"Bandits we can take care of," Harpago muttered, one finger tracing a dent in the helmet he had rested on the table.

"How else can we get to Aurelia?" Vettius questioned, half-squinting as if to measure the stationmaster for a cross.

"You can keep on into Pasini, then turn back west on the Salvium road," the other replied without meeting the officer's eyes. "It's several times as long."

"Then we go by the straight route?"Vettius said, looking at his companions questioningly.

Harpago rose and reslung his shield.

"Why not?" Dama agreed.

The stationmaster watched them mount and ride off. His gnarled face writhed in terrible glee.

"What did they do, tear the whole road up?" Harpago asked. Even with the stationmaster's warning they had almost ridden past the junction. The surfacing flags and concrete certainly had been taken up. Seeds had lodged in the road metal beneath. They had grown to sizable trees by now, so that the only sign of the narrow road was a relative absence of undergrowth.

"The locals must have torn up this branch because it wasn't used much and they were tired of the labor taxes to repair it," Vettius surmised."They probably used the stone to fill holes on one of the main roads."

"But if this leads to the district market town, it should have gotten quite a lot of use," Dama argued.

"At least it'll guide us to where we're going," Harpago put in, plunging into the trees.

The pines grew close together and their branches frequently interlocked; riding through them was difficult. Vettius began to wonder if they should stop and turn back, but after a hundred yards or so the torn up section gave way to regular road.

Dama paused, looking back in puzzlement as his fingers combed pine straw out of his hair. "You know," he said, "I think they planted those trees on the roadbed when they tore up the surface."

"Why should they do that?" Vettius snorted.

"Well, look around," his friend pointed out. "The road is cracked here, too, but there aren't any trees growing in it. Besides, the trees don't grow as thickly anywhere else around here as they do on that patch of road. Somebody planted them to block it off completely."

The soldier snorted again, but he turned in his saddle. Dama had a point, he realized. In fact, the pines might even be growing in crude rows. "Odd," he admitted at last.

"Sir!" called Harpago, who had ridden far ahead. "Are you coming?"

Vettius raised an eyebrow. Dama laughed and slapped his horse's flank."He's young; he'll learn."

"Sorry if I seem to push," the adjutant apologized as they trotted onward, "but I don't like wasting time on this stretch of road. It's too dark for me."

"Dark?"Vettius echoed in amazement. For the first time he took more than cursory notice of their surroundings. The swampy gully to the left of the road had once been a drainage ditch. Long abandonment had left it choked with reeds, while occasional willows sprouted languidly from its edge. On the right, ragged forest climbed the slope of the valley. Scrub pine struggled through densely interwoven underbrush to form a stark, desolate landscape.

But dark? The moonlight washed the broken pavement into a metal serpent twisting through the forest. The trees were too stunted to overshadow the road, and the paving stones gleamed against the contrast of frequent cracks and potholes. Even the scabbed boles of the pines showed silver scales where the moon touched them.

"I wouldn't call it dark," Vettius concluded aloud, "though you could hide a regiment in those thickets."

"No, he's right," Dama disagreed unexpectedly. "It does seem dark, and I can't figure out why."

"Don't tell me both of you are getting nervous of shadows," jeered Vettius.

"I just wonder why they blocked off this road," the merchant replied vaguely. "From the look of the job it must have taken most of the district. Wonder what that stationmaster sent us into…"

Miles clattered gloomily by under their horses' hooves. It was fell, wasteland, a wretched paradigm for much of the empire in these latter days. This twisting valley could never have been much different, though. The humid bottoms had never been tilled; perhaps a few hunters had taken deer among its drooping pines. For the others who had come this way-lone travelers, donkey caravans, troops in glittering armor-the valley was only an incident of passage.

Now even the road was crumbling. Although only a short distance had been systematically destroyed, nature and time had taken a hand with the remainder. The flags had humped and split as water seepage froze in the winter, and one great section had fallen into the gully whose spring torrents had undercut it. They led their horses over the rubble while the pines drank their curses.

The usual nightbirds were hushed or absent.

Even Vettius began to feel uneasy. The moonlight weighed on his shoulders like a palpable force, crushing him down in his saddle. The moon was straight overhead now. Occasional streaks of light pierced the groping branches to paint the dark trunks with swordblades.

Itwas dark now. No white face would gleam from the forest edge to warn of the bandit arrow to follow in an instant. Was it fear of bandits that made him so tense? In twenty years' service he had ridden point in tighter places!

Letting his horse pick its own way over the broken road, Vettius scanned the forest. He took off his helmet and the tight leather cap that cushioned it. The air felt good, a prickly coolness that persisted even after he put the helmet back on, but there was no relief from the ominous tension. Grunting, he tried to hike his shield a little higher on his back.

Dama chuckled in vindication. "Nervous, Lucius?" he asked.

Vettius shrugged. "The woman at the station said there were bandits."

"On an abandoned piece of road like this?" Dama laughed bitterly. "I wish she were here now. I'd find out for sure what she did say. Do you suppose she knew any Greek besides 'food' and 'wine'?"

"No, she was too ugly for other refreshment," Vettius said. His forced laughter bellowed through the trees.

After a short silence, Harpago said, "Well, at least we should be almost to Aurelia by now."

"Look where the moon is, boy," Vettius scoffed. "We've only been riding for two hours or so."

"Oh, surely it's been longer than that," the younger man insisted, looking at the sky in amazement.

"Well, it hasn't," his commander stated flatly.

"Shall we rest the horses for a moment?"Dama suggested."That pool seems to be spring fed, and I'm a little thirsty."

"Good idea," Vettius agreed."I'd like to wash that foul wine out of my mouth too."

"Look," Harpago put in, "Aurelia must be just around the next bend. Why don't we ride on a little further and see-"

"Ride yourself if you want to be a damned fool," snapped Vettius. He didn't like to be pushed, especially when he was right.

Harpago flushed. He saluted formally. When Vettius ignored him, he wheeled and rode off.

Vettius unstrapped his shield and looked around while the Cappadocian slurped water from his cupped hand. The adjutant was out of sight now, but the swift clinking of his horse's hooves reached them clearly.

"If that young jackass doesn't learn manners, somebody's going to break his neck before he gets much older," Vettius grumbled. "Might even be me."

Dama dried his face on his sleeve and began filling the water bottles. "It's something in the air here," he explained. "We're all tight."