Адриан Голдсуорти - The Encircling Sea

‘If I am not mistaken, at this very moment prisoners are being thrown to the wild beasts.’ Ovidius was staring down at the table.

‘As an object lesson,’ Neratius Marcellus intoned, fully aware of the irony. ‘Not for religion or mere cruelty.’

He ignored the muttered ‘That makes all the difference, of course,’ from his friend.

‘Gentlemen, morality is not our main concern at present. It seems that at least some of the Selgovae are restive. As the noble Crispinus has said, the start of the census in their lands always risked provoking trouble.’ Ferox had half forgotten warning the tribune about this all those weeks ago. ‘They have ambushed a detachment of our soldiers, murdered a centurion in an extremely savage way.’

‘This is surely the start of bigger trouble. Yet Fortuna smiles upon us pious Romans, for we happen to have plenty of troops concentrated not far from here for the summer’s manoeuvres. This means that in just a few days I can assemble an expedition big enough to march through the valleys of the Selgovae and smash anyone who dares oppose us. We must prepare the orders to make this happen should it become necessary. Ferox?’

‘My lord.’

‘I shall want you to stay with us as we begin to plan, but in two hours’ time you are to ride out with the scouts and an escort from my singulares to find out as much as you can about what has happened and what will happen. How many men will you need for your escort?’

‘A dozen will do, my lord.’ He would have preferred to take no more than a couple of men to use as couriers, but he doubted that they would agree to that.

‘So few? Claudius Super had twice as many.’

‘I shall have Vindex and his men, my lord. They make a big difference.’

‘As do you, no doubt.’ Neratius Marcellus turned to a clerk. ‘I want eleven of the best men led by a duplicarius . Ensure all are well mounted and have food for three days. Fresh mounts to be provided for the scouts and the centurion. That should do it.’ He gestured at another of the headquarters men. ‘Longus, here, will show you the messages from Claudius Super and the survivor of the ambush.’

‘Thank you, my lord. I should like to speak to the trooper.’

‘Certainly, although I doubt you’ll get much from him. Go with Longus, but be back here as soon as you can for we will need your knowledge.’

‘Yes, my lord. My lord?’

‘I take it centurion, that you are wondering about the whole business. From all you have said about Acco he is shrewd and cunning. So you are wondering whether what he seems to intend and what he actually intends are two very different things. That perhaps he wants to draw me into a hasty attack on the Selgovae, either because more tribes will join them and we may be overwhelmed by sheer numbers? Or perhaps he has mischief planned elsewhere and simply wants us distracted? Were you thinking something like that, and that your governor had no more wit that a newborn child and would not see the possible traps?’ Neratius Marcellus grinned.

‘I was wondering something like that, my lord.’

‘I am glad to hear it, centurion. Now hurry off and be back as soon as you can.’

There was little in the messages. Claudius Super had sensed an unease among the tribe. That was something of a surprise, because in the past the centurion had appeared unlikely to have sensed when it was raining. Perhaps the fight at Aballava had made him wary or just plain nervous. The people struck him as hostile, and warriors shadowed his escort, without coming close. His second message told of a farm near the coast that had been burned to the ground, the families living there all killed, their corpses ripped open and mutilated. Super’s mood was reflected in the deep, almost brutal strokes his pen had made, stabbing into the wax and wood behind it.

The report of the survivor was of little use, so Ferox went to the small cubicle where the man was being kept. They had brought him bread, salted meat and wine, but the trooper had touched none of it. He sat on a stool beside the little table, bent over, his hands grasping his face. When Ferox spoke to him, the habit of discipline took over and he sprang to his feet. His eyes stared past the centurion into a distance no one could measure.

‘Report, Trooper Candidus.’ Ferox did not shout, but made it a command, hoping that training would force the man to speak quicker than a show of sympathy. ‘What happened to the rest of you?’

‘Dead, sir. All dead.’

‘You were escort to the centurion?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Helping out with the census. Then a messenger comes from a chieftain asking for help and the centurion takes you towards Uxellum and people there complain of cattle being stolen and blame some of the Novantae. They’re on the border there, so it happens often enough.’ Ferox was piecing together Claudius Super’s reports with some guesses and trying to convince the man that he already knew the answers. ‘You pushed along the coast and just before sunset yesterday find the farm and everyone killed and cut about. All of them, men, women and children.’

Candidus’s eyelids flickered, but he showed no other emotion.

‘You were all angry, and pushed on. Didn’t fancy camping there, did you?’

‘No, sir. Horrible it was.’ For the first time the trooper looked at him.

‘So you found another spot to camp, and you and Dannicus were sent ahead to check on another farm nearer the beach. It was empty?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And as you rode back to the camp you heard the noise?’

‘They were screaming. Shapes darker than the night. Not human, sir, not really, but arms and legs distorted, eyes bulging.’ Candidus was breathing hard, gulping the words out. ‘Blacker than pitch and taller than any man, but flying across the ground faster than bats and shrieking, and our boys screaming as they were cut up. They were dying in front of us, the tents burning, fire everywhere, but the light didn’t show them, they were still just black. Dead men risen up or ghosts or monsters from the deep.’ His eyes were wild, his breath coming in pants and for a while he could not sleep.

Ferox did not see any point in asking how many of them there were. ‘They came for you, then, didn’t they?’

Candidus nodded. ‘Just appeared out of the night. Dannicus threw his spear, which was more than I could do. Hit one square on and it just bounced back. Didn’t slow it, didn’t hurt it, but they screamed at us and there was a whistling sound like the hiss of dragons, and then they stabbed at Dannicus and he cried out and my horse reared and then shot off like the bolt from an engine and Dannicus’ horse must have done the same. We didn’t go through the camp, but close enough to see the centurion being carried in the air. Others were throwing wood onto the fires and something that flared up into the sky. We kept going, riding as hard as we could and we didn’t look back, but we heard him screaming. Some of the others too, and that whistling followed us. And so we rode here.’

Ferox patted the trooper on the shoulder, making the man flinch like a nervous colt. ‘You did well to get away. Try to get some rest.

‘Find somewhere where he can sleep,’ Ferox told Longus.

‘Sir.’ As they left the clerk cleared his throat. ‘Sir? Do you believe all that about demons or ghosts?’

‘Men did the killing,’ Ferox said, and hoped that he was right.

At the governor’s consilium they asked him a few questions about places and the local people, but in the main they got on with the planning while he sat and waited. Ovidius had gone, so that there was no one else not doing anything, and he waited in silence.