Адриан Голдсуорти - The Encircling Sea

‘That is true, but he also wanted her because she is a daughter of the warrior queen. She wears the mark of that kin.’ Ferox wondered whether that was the neat scar between her breasts. ‘He will threaten her to make the warrior queen do what he wants.’

‘How many live on her island?’ Ferox wondered whether they might find an ally, although it was hard to think of any way to reach her.

‘We do not know. Perhaps fifty, perhaps fewer. Boats come and leave fish and food on the beach, but no one stays unless they go there to learn.’

‘Go and get something to eat,’ Ferox said, and then raised his voice. ‘Eat as much as you can. It’s going to be a long day.’ He leaned on the side of the ship, staring at the islands, wondering whether he needed to change his plan.

‘This looks like the end of the world,’ Ovidius said, coming up beside them. He was very pale and seemed even thinner. The same was true of most of those on board.

‘The end of this journey.’ Ferox pointed to the south of the island. There were grey shapes skimming above the waves.

‘Dolphins. Wonderful creatures, to be sure, but I have seen plenty of them before,’ the poet said, and then his gaze went further and he spotted the dark hump beyond them. It spouted, then dived and a moment later a great black tail rose above the sea. Ferox watched the sheer excitement in the old man’s face. ‘That is truly a delight for the eyes.’

It came closer for a while, the shiny black back of the whale surfacing just twenty paces from them, and they heard the great exhalation of breath. When it sank again, there was an oily film on the water where it had been. For a while they watched, waiting for it to reappear, and just when they were about to give up were rewarded when the whale surfaced again, much further away. The sky was turning grey, with low clouds and mist coming towards them.

‘This is it, then,’ Ovidius said quietly.

‘You should stay on the ship, my lord. It will be rough.’

Ovidius chuckled. ‘What a strange way with words you military fellows have. I imagine Odysseus, back after twenty years, corpses of suitors piled in mounds around him, and when Penelope asks how it was, he just says, “Rough. Really, really tough.”’

‘Well, it was. Apart from all the nymphs and goddesses.’

Ovidius looked up at him. ‘Let us go and save a goddess of our own.’

‘You are sure?’

‘I am. Quite sure.’

‘Very well, my lord. Now, if you will excuse me, there is much to prepare.’

‘Of course, I never said it was sensible,’ the old man said softly after the centurion had gone aft, calling for Longinus and his men.

THE ROUND TOWER loomed up against the night sky, shaped almost like a vase, its walls curving inwards. The point of a conical roof must have been at least thirty-five feet up in the air. It was too dark for Ferox to see either the thatch or the huge dry-stone walls, plain and without any windows or other openings. At its foot were three roundhouses, also of stone, although the roof of one had long since collapsed. None had doors on the outside, and the only way in was through the main entrance, which snaked between the buildings before it led into the tower.

The only way in was through that main door, unless the Red Cat and the others were right and they could climb up and break their way through the roof. Ferox could not rely on them and, at best, it would give him an extra edge. He still wished that Bran had not wanted to go, but the boy assured him that he was an excellent climber, used to scaling cliffs in search of birds’ eggs, and in the end he had given permission.

They had landed as the grey day came to an end, shielded from hostile eyes by the thick mist on the sea. Only nine could cram into the ship’s boat at a time, including the two rowers and a helmsman, so it took three trips to bring all the men ashore and another for the sacks of supplies. Then the boat rowed back to the ship and they were alone. It was not safe for them to stay on the beach. If all went well, they would signal with torches and the sailors would row back in to pick them up. It was the weakest part of the plan, because Ferox knew that it would mean several trips to carry them all, the numbers of those left behind to hold off any enemies growing smaller and smaller all the time. He could not think of any alternative. They would just have to hope that with most of the pirates away, the others would be slow to respond.

Ferox, Duco and the two northerners set off inland, leaving Vindex to guide the others and follow at a distance. There was no sign of anyone. A few damp sheep stared forlornly at them as they passed. Ferox had asked the prisoner whether they ought to paint their faces and hands black.

‘We only do that to frighten others,’ Duco said dismissively. Ferox still thought of him as the prisoner even though he was helping them. He did not think treachery was likely, but had quietly told the brothers to kill the man at the first sign of falsehood. The centurion found it hard not to grin at the irony of asking two men who had sworn to kill him to keep a watch on another forced companion. Their oath would hold for the moment, and he needed them and their hardness.

They came in sight of the tower after no more than twenty minutes, and he spent some time circling it, taking a good look. A chink of red light showed the entrance at the end of the causeway. In the dark he could not make out whether this path was natural or made from piled stones, but it went straight out from the shore to the entrance. No one was visible, whether at the tower, on the causeway or on the shores around the lake. This part of the island seemed empty.

By the time they had circled again and gone back to the low rise on the far side of the lake, Vindex and the others were there. Ferox smelt fresh blood, and noticed that Falx the gladiator had the carcase of a sheep over his shoulder. One of the Batavians was carrying another dead animal.

‘Best to have as much food as we can,’ Longinus told him, and Ferox wondered why he had not thought of it.

He patted the one-eyed veteran on the shoulder. ‘You know what to do?’

‘Yes, sir. Stay back out of sight. If fighting starts we pile straight in. If not, I count to one hundred and then pile in.’ Longinus would command the main force. The Red Cat, Bran, and one of the younger scouts were to wade or float using some pieces of timber, crossing the lake behind the tower. The old thief swore that he could climb the wall and break in through the roof and the other pair had volunteered to go with him. Ferox, Duco, Falx and one of the Batavians were to walk across the causeway and try to bluff their way in.

Ferox saw the huge gladiator lifting the dead sheep.

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Keep it.’

Falx stopped in the middle of the movement.

‘Do as he says,’ Probus commanded, and the man hefted it back onto his shoulder, where it looked no bigger than a puppy. The merchant was to stay with Longinus and the others, waiting back in the shadows.

The causeway was solid and flatter than Ferox had expected. He and the three others walked across, not hurrying and doing their best to look natural. There was still no sign of life from the tower, apart from the glimpse of firelight.

Ferox walked towards the tower. They were more than halfway across, the lake water a deep black pit on either side. Each man had his sword, and Ferox had his dagger as well, but they carried no shields and their armour was covered by their cloaks.

‘Halt!’ The challenge could have come from the sentry at an army base. Even after all these years some of their training still clung to the mutineers. ‘Who goes there?’

‘Is that you, Flavus?’ Duco called out before Ferox could say anything. ‘It’s me.’ He started to walk forward again. Ferox and the others followed.