Джерейнт Джонс - Siege

‘Over here,’ I mouthed silently.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Help me move these.’ I gestured to stacks of pick-helves on a shelf; then I started lifting the bundled tool handles and placing them gently on the floor.

‘Why?’

‘Just do it,’ I urged.

It took only moments to clear the space that I needed.

‘You’re going in there,’ I told my friend.

‘Have you lost your head?’

I didn’t answer. The voices outside were growing nearer. With a sour look, Stumps pulled himself into the cleared space.

‘Felix—’ he tried, but I was already piling the bundles of wooden handles back in front of the man, my heart beating faster as the angry calls from the outside dropped away. It was the signal that they had gathered together their culprits, and that they would now begin searching. I hurried to place the last bundle of helves on to the shelves, and then lunged for the brazier, desperate to distance myself from my comrade’s concealment.

The door opened a moment later: two soldiers. They held wooden staves in their hands. They had come to beat, not to kill.

‘Who are you?’ the older of the pair asked.

‘Friend of the quartermaster’s,’ I answered. ‘We were Seventeenth together.’

‘You one of the ones that got out of the forest?’ the younger man asked, interested.

I nodded.

‘What was it like?’

I had no time to reply as the older of the pair waved the question away.

‘Come with us,’ he ordered me. ‘Anyone else with you?’

‘No. I was having a drink here and waiting for him to come back. I heard the noise outside and thought it better to wait here.’

‘Smart bloke,’ the veteran conceded. ‘We did have to crack a few heads in there. No need for that if you play along though.’

‘Of course,’ I answered earnestly before placing my hands on my head and walking towards the pair. They moved to the side of the door, and as I passed between them I saw the effect of Malchus’s raid – not one piece of furniture was left unturned, and with their noses against a wall were the twenty or so men and women who had been enjoying wine and dice until the doors had crashed open.

‘Over to the wall,’ the older of the pair instructed me.

‘You,’ I heard growled then. ‘Why the fuck are you here?’

Malchus again. His predatory eyes had fallen on me instantly.

‘I was with the QM in the Seventeenth, sir,’ I explained. ‘The same century.’

Malchus’s jaw jutted out as he bit back and accepted my reason. I reached the wall, my nose pressing into the cold wood.

‘All of you,’ Malchus then ordered. ‘Turn around.’

We complied. The tall centurion was flanked by two dozen men of his own century. Standing beside him was a soldier I recognized as one of Titus’s doormen.

‘Who runs it?’ Malchus demanded.

The doorman’s hand began to raise.

‘You fucking snitch!’ a voice called out, only to be silenced with a blow of the wooden handles, the sound like slapping leather.

‘Keep your mouths shut!’ one of Malchus’s veterans barked, as much of a hound as his leader.

‘Point them out,’ Malchus snapped. The doorman’s hand raised again. As his finger indicated each target, a pair of soldiers came forwards to pull the accused from the line-up, and bound the culprit’s wrists behind their backs.

Plancus was the first, the man’s pathetic hobbling drawing a grimace from Malchus. Next came Metella, her head back and indignant. Finally, Titus was fingered as one of the racket’s three ringleaders.

‘Centurion,’ Titus greeted the cohort commander in a voice as calm as a dead sea. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you here. Your lads have been quite the regulars.’

Malchus scoffed, showing his disinterest in how his men spent their time. ‘So the quartermaster’s bent?’ he said instead. ‘Who’d have fucking thought it.’

‘Just trying to make a living, sir,’ Titus appealed, strong man to strong man. ‘Happy to help others make theirs.’

Malchus smiled darkly then. It was a terrible thing to see. ‘I couldn’t give a fuck if every man gambles away their last coin,’ he said, approaching Titus. ‘But there’s one thing I won’t put up with,’ he added calmly. ‘And that’s being fed FUCKING DOG MEAT!’

The sudden blows landed a second later. Against Titus’s thick muscle and skull, they sounded like artillery hitting stone battlements. The big man had the sense to go down.

‘Feeding me fucking dog?’ the centurion snarled, standing over him. ‘Putting dog on the plate of the FUCKING PREFECT? Are you out of your minds, you greedy bastards?’

From the floor, Titus spat blood and words. ‘Plancus!’ He roared. ‘I’ll fucking kill you!’

Every set of eyes turned towards the stooped veteran – there was no disguising the look of guilt that hung over his weathered face.

‘You cunt!’ Metella roared, charging for the man.

It took four soldiers to hold her back. As she was restrained, Malchus watched her struggle with a smile. Then he turned to a veteran beside him.

‘No need for names and units of the others in here. Just rough them up a bit, but not enough that anyone has to miss a duty.’

‘Yes sir,’ the veteran replied, before stepping forwards to carry out the order. ‘You heard the boss.’

He then addressed those of us standing against the wall. ‘Just suck it up and we’ll be done in a second. Now face the wall,’ he commanded and, like well-trained animals, we turned our backs, and tightened our muscles against what was to come.

The punishment arrived a moment later, the wooden stave crashing against my hamstrings, pain singing through my legs and into my back. Anxious to avoid a second blow I dropped to my knees, submitting to the legion’s discipline, and the power that it held over every part of my life.

‘You’re done,’ the veteran announced after a second blow had landed. My punishment received, I pushed myself up on to throbbing legs. The beating had been merciful, and yet as I looked around me, I now felt nothing but sickness and fear in my stomach.

Because Titus was gone.

Titus was not the only familiar face missing – Metella and Plancus had disappeared with Malchus and his soldiers, and that could only mean that there was further punishment planned for the ringleaders. Titus would certainly lose his rank, but beyond that? I had no more time to think on it.

‘Brando,’ I called. ‘Micon. Come help me.’

They followed me into the engineering equipment room, puzzled at first as to why I was pulling the bundles of staves from the shelves.

Stumps smiled with relief as he saw our faces. ‘I’m quite comfortable in here. Shut me back in and let me sleep.’

We said nothing. Levity slipped from our friend’s voice as he recognized the warning signs.

‘Titus?’ he asked, immediately worried.

‘And Metella and Plancus.’

‘Shit,’ Stumps groaned, gasping as we uncoiled him from his hiding place and placed him on the ground. ‘Gone with Malchus? That can’t be good.’

There was no reply to be made to that.

‘What can we do?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ I told him honestly. ‘But we’ve got the walls tonight. If we don’t report for duty, we’re in bigger shit than Titus.’

‘We could talk to Albus? Maybe he’ll do something?’ Brando asked.

‘He’ll do nothing.’ I was certain. ‘He just wants an easy life.’

And so it proved when we returned to the barrack block.

‘Centurion Albus wants to see you,’ the century’s young runner summoned me.

‘Felix,’ Albus greeted me in his quarters. ‘Look, this is nothing personal,’ he then began. ‘I know you’ve got shitloads of experience, but you were the last one here to get made up to section commander, and we’re half a century. I need to consolidate the sections, and so you guys will go into what will now be Two Section, under Livius. The good news is that it’s just the three of you. I pulled some strings and got your mate Stumps back into the quartermaster’s.’ Albus smiled, unaware that Titus was now likely in chains.