Gillian Bradshaw - Island of Ghosts

“My bodyguard paid Cluim, and you, the debt they owed to their own honor,” I told her. “They were ashamed because they had been unable to defend me themselves and because they had attacked the one who had done it in their place. I could never correct them in something that concerns their honor: you must keep what they gave you. But for my own part, I know only too well that I have given you nothing but thanks.” I took her hand. “And those I give you again, with the promise that my life is at your service.” I kissed the hand, pressed it to my forehead, let go of it, and stepped back. She stared at me with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “May I come back in a few days to talk about the horse?” I asked her.

“Y-yes,” she said. “Yes, if you like-but you shouldn’t ride today!”

I went back to my horse. I slid the stirrups down the leathers and mounted. “Tell Cluim I regret it that Leimanos struck him,” I said, unfastening the lead rein from Farna’s bridle. “I will see you in a few days. Lady, good health!”

“You obstinate, arrogant man!” she replied. “I pray the gods give you good health!”

I looked back at her and smiled. Tirgatao used to talk to me like that. I gave the signal for the bodyguard to mount, bowed to Pervica from the saddle, and trotted away from the farm, leaving her standing on the porch and staring after us, a slim gray figure against the whiteness of the snow.

Pervica had been right to doubt whether I was fit to ride any distance. I could rest comfortably on horseback, as I’d said, but I was shivering with the cold before we’d gone a mile. It didn’t help that I’d lost my hat. Comittus noticed and suggested that we go to Corstopitum after all, and said that we were expected there, but I was concerned about the situation at Cilurnum and anxious to return at once. I sent a Latin-speaking bodyguard to Corstopitum instead, to announce that I was safe and would go there the following day as soon as I’d reassured my men. I borrowed the messenger’s helmet to keep my ears warm.

Comittus asked me several times on that ride whether I was really all right, whether I was chilled, whether we shouldn’t stop and rest a bit. I found it exasperating and answered only by asking him questions about other things. In this way I learned that the Sarmatians in Cilurnum were confined to our camp, very sensibly, and the Asturians to the fort; that my weapons and armor, except for my bow case, were in Corstopitum; that Eukairios was still in Corstopitum; that the legate was also still there; that the fourth dragon was also there; that Farna had been found on the road the evening I disappeared, with my spear in its holder, my sword hung from the saddle, and my armor in its pack behind. My bow case was missing. “Arshak told us that you’d both seen a wild boar,” Comittus said, “and had decided to hunt it. He said he lost you and the boar both in the chase. Why didn’t you bring the spear? Those bows of yours are powerful, but I wouldn’t have thought they’re the gear to use on boars. We’d been imagining you lying wounded, gored by the beast, or perhaps eaten by wolves. How did you end up in the river?”

“I do not remember,” I replied.

But even without remembering, I knew that Arshak was lying. I did remember how we’d argued in Corstopitum, and how we’d set out from Condercum, with Arshak glowering at the road before us: we had not gone hunting. I struggled to remember the missing hours, but they were fogged, and I was left only with the sense of horror at something forgotten. I knew, though, that what had happened was somehow bound up with the legate’s wife, and I hadn’t forgotten that she was Comittus’ kinswoman and that he admired her. I said nothing to him about my doubts. I said nothing to my men, either: if they knew that someone had tried to murder me, they would be out for revenge, and that would only cause trouble. So I let Arshak’s story stand.

The precautions taken by the officers at Cilurnum proved to have been sufficient, and my fears unfounded: though things had been tense, my men had not yet begun killing Asturians. When I appeared, somewhat the worse for the ride, the Asturians came running out of their barracks and the Sarmatians galloped up from the camp, and there was a great deal of shouting. Even Facilis seemed pleased to see me.

I was by this time feeling very chilled and utterly exhausted, so after letting my men see that I had not been murdered by the Romans and giving a few orders to my officers, I went to my wagon to rest. When I got off my horse, my bad leg gave under me and I fell, then, to my disgust, found I couldn’t get up again. Everyone crowded about exclaiming and explaining to one another that I’d been practically dead of drowning two days before, and arguing with each other over how I should be looked after. The Romans would have whisked me off to the fort hospital at once, but I refused to allow it, and managed to pull myself back onto my feet, though I had to lean against the side of a wagon to stay there. We had by this time built shelters of wattle and mud daub out from the front of the wagons, put awnings over them, and covered the ground beneath them with straw to give ourselves somewhere warm to sit in the evenings. My men built a roaring fire in front of my own shelter, covered its floor with extra straw and several thicknesses of rugs, and there I sat to get warm. The bodyguard fussed over me like a pack of old women at a childbed, bringing hot compresses for my feet, fetching blankets and pillows, offering cups of warm milk and bowls of beef stew. It was some time before I could persuade them to go away and let me rest. Then I drank the milk and ate the stew, and lay still, looking at the fire and thinking about Pervica. I forgot Arshak, Bodica, and the nagging uncertainty about the Brigantes and the Picts. I realized now why she’d called herself a fool. When she learned I was an officer, she realized that I would be free to marry her, which I couldn’t have done as a common soldier-and she’d at once told herself that it was far too early to worry about such matters and she was a fool to think of it. But she had needed to tell herself that: she was not indifferent to me. I saw her again, standing flushed and angry on the porch of her house, telling me I was obstinate and arrogant, and I was happy.

The next morning I saddled Farna, collected the second ten of my bodyguard, and rode into the fort to see if Comittus also needed to go to Corstopitum.

I found the tribune in his house, having a late breakfast with Flavinus Longus and Facilis. They all jumped up and hurried over smiling when I walked into the dining room.

“A hundred greetings!” exclaimed Comittus. “I’m glad to see you looking so well. Sit down and have something to eat.”

“Thank you, I have eaten already,” I replied. “Did you need to return to Corstopitum?”

“You’re not planning to ride there now, are you?” asked Longus.

“I sent a messenger yesterday, saying I would come.”

“You can send another one today, saying you won’t,” growled Facilis.

I shrugged. “Are you coming, Comittus? Or any of you?”

“Vae me miserum!” exclaimed Longus. “Man, when you arrived yesterday you were the color of a dead fish and your teeth were going like castanets. There’s nothing so urgent in Corstopitum that it can’t wait a day or two, is there?”

I shrugged again. I was very uneasy about the hours I had forgotten, and I was aware that while I rested in the fort, things might be happening in the town that could devastate and destroy. I was particularly concerned about Siyavak and the fourth dragon, brought to the town as something very close to prisoners and at the mercy of the same lies that had killed Gatalas. Perhaps I’d find nothing to do even if I went, but I didn’t want to risk it. “I am perfectly well enough to ride,” I said.