Джерейнт Джонс - Siege

Albus called us to a halt outside our barrack block. The movement was observed far more crisply than it had been earlier that morning – the executions had had the desired effect of sharpening minds and attitudes. Overall, though, I sensed a feeling of disquiet in the air. Stumps was buoyed up by the fact that his friend had escaped the fate of his fellow ringleaders, but Metella’s last words had struck a deep chord with the fort’s garrison, and it showed in their stooped postures, and the absence of good-natured insults and laughter.

Albus was as glum as any of the men. ‘Fall out,’ he told us, already walking to his quarters. ‘Next duty’s at noon.’

I was already sprinting to our room.

‘You missed your bed that much?’ Stumps called after my back. I ignored him, pushing open the door and pulling back the partition to our living space.

A familiar figure was lying in my bed.

‘All right?’ he grunted.

Titus lay back on my bed, chewing a piece of dried meat. He was not alone in the room. Centurion H leaned back against the wall, his arms folded.

‘How was it?’ he asked me.

I shook my head. ‘Malchus is a bastard,’ was all I said.

‘I’ll miss Metella,’ Titus said, getting to his feet. ‘Plancus deserved what he got, the fucking idiot.’

I was about to tell Titus that no one deserved such a death as Plancus had suffered, when what was left of our section began to enter behind me.

‘Brando,’ H put in quickly. ‘Watch the door.’

‘You slippery bastard,’ Stumps smiled, pushing his way through and hitting his friend across one of his massive shoulders. ‘How the fuck did you pull that off?’

‘Ask them,’ Titus grunted, with just a nod of his head towards myself and H.

‘We’re not out of the fire yet,’ H explained, frowning. ‘But the prefect’s seen enough to know that we can’t stay here forever. We’ve had no instruction or word from the garrisons on the Rhine, so if they have sent any scouts they’re not making it past the goat-shaggers.’

‘What’s this got to do with Titus?’ Stumps asked, pulling a face.

H shrugged. ‘In return for his life, Titus has volunteered to go on a scouting party of our own. We’re going to search out their army, and find a way to bolt around them to the Rhine once we get a heavy enough storm. I convinced Caedicius that the best people to come with me and do it are the ones who got away from Arminius in the forest.’

‘H is going to lead us,’ I put in. ‘Me and Titus, anyway.’

My friend’s face darkened. ‘Having your own little picnic is it, you fuckers? Well, what if I want to come?’ Stumps was clearly desperate not to lose sight of a comrade he had only moments ago thought condemned.

‘You’re in no state to lower yourself on to a latrine, never mind fight,’ Titus told him – truthfully.

‘And I need you to look out for Linza,’ I added. ‘Micon and Brando, too. You’ve seen what Malchus is, Stumps. I can’t leave her alone here when he’s got a blade to grind.’

‘I’ll trade places with you,’ Stumps pressed defiantly.

‘Won’t work.’ H shook his head. ‘Caedicius has a high opinion of Felix, and Malchus can’t go back on his old praise, either. We’re taking a few others with us to send word to the Rhine about our intentions, but you’re in no state to be a runner, Stumps.’

‘Ah, fuck the lot of you anyway,’ our comrade cursed. ‘Go and get yourselves killed and I’ll stay here and keep warm. You’re the fucking idiots, not me.’

‘There’s my boy.’ Titus grinned, ruffling Stumps’s unkempt hair as if he were a child. ‘What now?’ he then asked H.

‘We draw rations and kit. Leave as soon as it gets dark.’

‘Enjoy your dog,’ Stumps grunted from his bed, his back turned to us but mind fully in the conversation.

‘I think I’ll lie low here,’ Titus said to me. ‘Don’t want Malchus having second thoughts, so it looks like you’ve lost your bed.’

There were plenty of empty ones in the room. After a moment, I caught my friend’s meaning.

‘I’ll go and see her before we leave,’ I promised.

‘Now,’ he said, and I felt the eyes of my other friends burning into me, telling me to find my balls.

‘Now,’ Titus urged again.

‘Don’t tell me you put my head through a bunk for nothing,’ Stumps rumbled from his bed.

Titus laughed.

‘I’ll go—’

‘Now!’ my comrades shouted in unison.

And so I did as I was ordered.

I left to find Linza.

Walking through the fort I felt the same edge of fear that had descended on to the parade square following Metella’s final words. It clung to every person in the fort. Shrouded figures moved sullenly from building to building, avoiding eye contact at all costs. There were no thoughts of the greater good, only of their own person, or the smallest band of brothers and sisters.

Such pessimism made finding Linza difficult. My questions were met with suspicion and scorn. Combing the grid-like layout of the fort, I eventually found her cutting wood with a dozen other women, their faces ruddy from effort and biting cold.

‘Linza,’ I said.

There was no happiness in her expression when she saw me. I felt as though I was being watched and judged for intention, the way a horse warily eyes a dog.

‘Felix,’ she finally said, walking clear of the prying eyes and ears of her group. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want to speak to you,’ I answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

‘ To me?’

‘With you.’

‘About what?’

I faltered then. Even her tired look of annoyance brought back memories that I treasured – did I truly love this German woman, or was I chasing a ghost?

‘I’m not sure,’ I finally said. ‘I’m going away for a while,’ I added, as if it explained everything. Perhaps it did, because I saw the tension in her shoulders soften.

‘What the prefect was talking about on the square? He has a mission for you?’

I nodded. She shook her head as if disappointed with a child.

‘I suppose you volunteered?’ she accused me.

‘I had no choice,’ I tried, recognizing a deep note of worry hiding amongst the simmering anger.

‘Of course you did. That’s why it’s called volunteering.’

I said nothing. How to explain to her the ties of comradeship when I could not understand them myself? Titus was a friend, and putting my own life at risk had been the only way to give him a chance of survival. There was nothing heroic or glorious in those actions. They simply happened because they had to. There was no other choice.

‘Do you know what a snowball is?’ I asked, earning a look of contempt.

‘I’m Batavian.’

I blushed a little at my foolishness. ‘Volunteering is like a snowball,’ I tried to explain. ‘You do it once, roll it once, and it just keeps getting bigger. Once you volunteer for one thing, they’ll always expect you to do it the next time. It gets to the point where if you don’t volunteer, you’re not standing still, but pulling back.’

‘So it’s about pride?’ Linza snorted. ‘What a surprise. Stupid of me to think you weren’t as arrogant as the next Roman.’

‘I’m no Roman,’ I told her, meaning it.

‘You dress like one. You kill for them. Now you risk your life for them.’

‘I’m not doing it for Rome,’ I told her honestly. ‘Fuck Rome. I just want to see my friends get home alive. I want to see you get home alive.’

‘Why?’ she pressed me.

And I knew then that she wanted me to kiss her. To take hold of her. To be a man.

But I could not. I could not, because I was looking at a ghost, and she was looking at a husband lost to the forest.