Nick Brown - The Imperial Banner

They pitched over the side rail and into the river.

Water exploded against Indavara’s face. He shut his eyes as he sank, then opened them as he began to rise. He thought Alikar still had hold of him but then realised his arms were free. His head broke the surface and he saw the big body drifting away between the ship and the jetty.

For the first time in his entire life, Indavara found himself floating in water. The feeling of a liquid void around and beneath him panicked him like nothing before. He kicked out to try to stay afloat but the river seemed to be sucking him down.

He went under again, swallowed water, came back up, spat it out, thrashed around, swallowed more.

Under again and this time he didn’t come back up. The mail-shirt seemed to have tripled in weight. He tried to pull it off him but it didn’t move an inch.

He sank lower.

A dark shape in front of him. He reached for the ship, trying to halt his descent, but his fingers slid down the smooth planks of the hull.

He fell further into the green mist. Tendril fingers slithered over his legs, pulling him lower. He shut his eyes again.

This is how I will die .

‘Cut, damn you!’

Kneeling by the side rail, with Scaurus’s knife wedged between his knees, Cassius ran the ropes on his wrists up and down the blade. He was already through one but needed to cut another to get free.

He took long, deep breaths to get some air into his lungs. It seemed an age since he’d heard the last splash. Indavara had been under a long time already. But he was so strong. He could hold on.

Cassius saw movement to his left: Simo — running along the barge towards the jetty.

‘Simo, he can’t swim! The armour! He can’t swim!’

Finally the knife was through. Cassius shook the rope off his wrists and wrenched off first one boot, then the other. He got up on the side rail. All he could see below was a thin trail of bubbles.

He dived into the river.

The shock of the cold faded quickly, as did the power of the dive. He felt himself rising again and kicked downward as he opened his eyes.

Nothing but murky green. Wide, arcing strokes took him deeper. Pain stung his ears.

There, impossibly far below him, something glinting in the darkness. He kicked again. Fifteen feet down. Twenty. Pressure in his lungs and throat.

Twenty-five feet. Then he saw him. Indavara’s face was no more than a blur. Everything below the silvery mail-shirt was obscured by thick clumps of undulating reed.

Cassius kicked towards him. When he was close enough, he reached between Indavara’s flailing arms for his belt, catching an elbow in the neck for his trouble. Cassius hauled the belt upwards. Indavara moved a couple of inches but then stopped. The reed seemed to have wrapped itself around him. The disturbed water cleared. He looked like a child, terrified and helpless.

Cassius felt the slippery reed licking at his legs. He locked both hands on the belt and heaved upwards again but Indavara was stuck there.

He came for me.

I can’t leave him here to die.

Cassius’s chest was on fire; and the fire was moving up to his throat. He knew he had only moments of air left.

He let go of Indavara. Instinct took over. He began to drift upwards.

Sensing something behind him, he turned.

A dark shape above, a big hand coming towards him, then a broad face set in a steely grimace.

Despite his size, Cassius knew Simo to be a strong swimmer. The Gaul ploughed past him and took Indavara’s left hand. Cassius reached out and took the right, interlocking their fingers. Simo started upward. Cassius shut his eyes and kicked out with every ounce of strength he had left.

Indavara shifted, then suddenly was free.

Legs thrashing, they rose swiftly, accelerating up towards the dark bulk of the ship.

The fire was through Cassius’s throat and into his mouth. His eyelids flickered open and shut. Darkness closed in around him. He was blacking out.

Shimmering sunlight above. Yellow spots flashed in his eyes. His body felt light, hollow. He wasn’t even kicking any more.

He reached up. His fingers broke the surface. And then he was there.

Spluttering as he sucked in air, he let go of Indavara’s hand, barely noticing the other two surface three yards away.

‘Sir!’

Cassius could do nothing to help. He reached out for the ship, then realised it was too far away. But as he drew in more air, his vision began to clear. He turned to see Simo struggling to keep Indavara’s head above the surface. The bodyguard’s eyes were shut. He was coughing up water.

‘There,’ cried Simo, nodding at the thick timbers that supported the jetty.

Cassius could move now. Between them, he and Simo manoeuvred Indavara over to the nearest support. They propped him against it, then wrapped their legs around the wood. The three of them just hung there, recovering.

After a time, Indavara’s eyes opened. He stared blankly forward, his breaths coming in convulsive gasps. Simo smacked him on the back a couple of times to clear all the water out. The bodyguard couldn’t even keep his grip on the support. Cassius and Simo put their arms under him to keep him out of the water and he laid his head against the wood.

Cassius had no idea how long they stayed there. At some point he realised he could hear the slaves, still shouting to each other in their own language. And once he turned towards the ship, he thought of Scaurus and the barrels; and the imperial banner. He had to know.

‘You all right, sir?’ Simo asked. A thick clump of weed lay across his forehead.

‘I will be,’ replied Cassius. He turned to Indavara. ‘Can you move?’

Indavara nodded.

Again they took one of his arms each, and swam to the bank. They hauled themselves up through thick, clinging mud until they were above the level of the jetty. Then they collapsed on to a bed of reeds and lay out on their backs for a moment, eyes shut against the sun.

‘By the great gods,’ breathed Cassius. ‘To think I used to love swimming. After today and yesterday, I don’t ever want to leave dry land.’

‘Me neither,’ spluttered Indavara.

It was the first thing he’d said; and Cassius and Simo laughed long and hard, mostly out of relief.

Indavara turned on his front and continued to spit out water. He looked as if the river had washed all the colour out of his face.

‘Can you take this off?’ he said.

Simo crawled over to him and, after several attempts, managed to wrench the mail-shirt off over his head.

‘Thank you,’ said Indavara. ‘Both of you.’

Cassius dragged himself to his feet. ‘Our pleasure. Come, you two, I hope to show you what this terrible affair has been all about.’

Walking along the jetty, they could still see some of the sailors — now all running back towards Antioch. A glance along the northern side of the river confirmed why they were leaving at such a pace. About half a mile away, a column of horsemen with a standard-bearer leading the way were riding along the towpath.

‘About time,’ said Cassius. ‘I wonder who they are.’

‘Marshal Marcellinus’s men probably,’ suggested Simo. ‘Shostra was to take a message to him.’

‘Better late than never, I suppose.’

They made their way back out along the barge — Indavara taking special care — and on to the galley. The slaves were still babbling away to each other below.

They passed Indavara’s first victim. The bodyguard went to recover the sword, and was barely able to summon the strength to dislodge the blade.

Cassius retrieved Scaurus’s knife from the deck and tried not to look at the second fallen mercenary.