Nick Brown - The Far Shore

‘I’m more worried about Carnifex,’ replied Indavara.

‘I doubt he got out of that villa. Thank the gods for quick-thinking young tribesmen.’

‘I wouldn’t put anything past that old bastard.’

‘He knew we would try and cross the road here. They were just waiting for us.’

Cassius looked down at Annia as she turned on to her side. She was still shivering terribly, her bare head against the cold stone.

He unlaced one of his boots and pulled it off. ‘Hope she doesn’t mind the smell. Gods, I need a wash.’ He gently lifted her head and placed the boot underneath. ‘Poor girl. What she’s been through today.’

‘Made a right mess of your plan, didn’t she?’

‘At least she might lose a little bit of that arrogant streak, assuming we get out of here alive.’ Cassius couldn’t see much of Indavara’s face in the darkness but he could tell he was still looking down at Annia. ‘You really do like her, don’t you?’

Indavara didn’t reply.

‘Well,’ Cassius continued. ‘Stranger things have happened. And she seems to like you too.’

‘I’m not so sure. I think it was just a game to her.’

‘I did tell you ladies can be difficult. If we ever make it back to Antioch in one piece we’ll get ourselves a nice pair of hearth girls to do our bidding and provide our every need. No complications. Sound good?’

Cassius could hear the smile in Indavara’s voice. ‘It does.’

He looked out towards the harbour, but still couldn’t tell if the Fortuna was there.

‘You think they’ve already left?’ asked Indavara.

‘Not if Simo has anything to do with it.’

‘And if they have?’

Cassius was still trying not to think about that. They might have stood a chance with Eborius to guide them, but alone, unarmed, and with Annia in such a state?

‘Look at it this way, we’re in a better position than we were at that accursed pit, so whatever our predicament, I’m going to consider the last few hours progress.’

Indavara lay down.

‘You’re sleeping?’ Cassius asked.

‘Resting.’

Cassius sat there in the darkness, knees drawn up to his chin, arms tight around them. He thought again of the pit; of what Indavara had told him when they’d both thought they were about to die. It all made sense now. He never said anything about his family and his past because he didn’t know anything. And that almost childlike naivety — he knew so little of life and the world because all he had ever known was the arena.

Cassius actually had his mouth open, ready to say something, but he stopped himself. Now wasn’t the time; they needed to rest. He put his head against his knees and closed his eyes.

Only once during the night did the Maseene get close. Dozing fitfully, Cassius woke when he heard their shouts and crawled to the side of the platform. He looked out through the temple’s pillars but the tribesmen were moving fast, on their way back to the road. He had no idea of the hour but there were far fewer torches alight and most of the warriors seemed to have gathered around the fire in the square. Once more he looked for the Fortuna but he saw nothing, no light, no sign to give him hope. Indavara stirred too but lay down again when he realised nothing was wrong. Like him, Cassius stretched out close to Annia — to try and provide her with a little warmth. She was sleeping soundly now and had at last stopped shivering.

When Cassius closed his eyes there was no comfort or peace, only the blurry noise of what he had seen and endured over the last few hours. Those two seemingly endless journeys: one across the grassy plains, one through the darkened streets. And the terror of that last pursuit, with Carnifex and the murderous men of the First Century right behind them.

And worst of all, the gorge. Soldiers and horses tumbling into that black hole, falling to places only the gods knew. Had some of them survived, only to look back at the light, call out for salvation? Or had they just kept falling, falling, falling …

He was snatched out of the dream by a hand shaking his arm. Indavara’s green eyes were smiling. The sky beyond him was several shades lighter than when Cassius had fallen asleep. As he sat up, Indavara pointed towards the sea.

The Fortuna Redux was lying peacefully at anchor not a quarter-mile from the shore, a similar distance east of the harbour. The yard was raised, the oars were out, and several figures could be seen moving around on deck.

‘Thank the great gods,’ said Cassius.

‘It gets better,’ said Indavara, glancing down at the road.

Though some of the fires were still alight, the Maseene were lying down by the roadside, covered with blankets and hides. The only man on his feet was relieving himself into a bush. He weaved his way back towards the fire and collapsed onto his makeshift bed.

‘The wine,’ said Cassius.

‘Or maybe they did finish off Carnifex and the others,’ replied Indavara. ‘Maybe they think there’s no one left to fight.’

‘What about Eborius and Noster?’

‘We have to go while we have the chance.’

Cassius looked down at Annia, who had just woken. Now there was a little light, he could see the blood that had seeped through the wrappings on her feet.

‘Agreed. Let’s move.’

Cassius pulled the blanket away and helped her sit up.

‘Annia, the Fortuna is there, see? We have to go now.’

She pushed her hair from her eyes and gripped his arm when she saw the ship. There was even a trace of a smile.

Cassius’s throat was horribly dry. Resisting the temptation to cough, he crawled across the platform, his stiff limbs resisting every command. He waited for the others, then they slowly made their way down to the temple floor. He looked around but could see no sign of anyone close. The cold morning air was bitter with smoke from the Maseene fires.

Annia winced as she came down the last few steps.

‘One last effort, miss,’ said Cassius. ‘Simo will look after you as soon as we’re back aboard.’

He set off through the half-completed temple towards the road, glancing warily in every direction. The dawn light revealed sights they’d missed in the darkness: the remains of a fire, a pile of brown palm leaves dried almost to dust, and the arm of a statue, hand reaching for the sky. Grass had forced its way up between the floor slabs and the bases of the columns.

Cassius reached the podium and looked left. There were only three Maseene lying by the fire to the west. There were more men — ten at least — surrounding the smoking pile of ash to the east, but they were sleeping just as soundly. He waited for a nod from Indavara then tiptoed down the steps. Aside from the twittering birds announcing the dawn, all he could hear were the snores of the tribesmen. It seemed to take an age to reach the altar.

‘We must stay low,’ he said. Down on his hands and knees once more, he crawled to the entrance and checked the road. He couldn’t see a single warrior on his feet.

‘Ready?’

‘Go,’ whispered Indavara from behind him. ‘It’s getting lighter every moment.’

Like the previous night, Cassius didn’t look along the road as he crossed it. He couldn’t have cared less about the dirt and his aching knees — just as long as they made it to the other side.

Once off the paving stones, he navigated his way through the thick, spiny bushes, only stopping when the Maseene were out of sight. As he and the others got to their feet, he had to resist the urge to smile. ‘Gods. It almost seems too easy.’

‘That’s what worries me,’ replied Indavara, striding past him. He soon found the path Eborius had mentioned and ten yards along it, they came across the body of Lentellus. The unfortunate legionary was lying face down in thick grass and had been struck at least half a dozen times; one particularly grisly blow had almost severed his arm.