Адриан Голдсуорти - The Encircling Sea

‘The noble Ovidius had a slave,’ Ferox said.

‘I was sorry about that. I remember the shock of seeing him in Londinium. Knew his face at once, even though he was cruelly scarred and withered by what he been through. Genialis knew who he was too, and that puzzled me because he cannot ever have seen the man. As he grows, more of his mother’s power comes to him.

‘But I could not take the risk. There was the money of course, and the fact that I was a mutineer. Rome does not forget that sort of thing. I guess even being a slave who enlisted in the army would be enough to get me executed.’

‘I think in your case the blame would be on the man who gave you to the army claiming that you were freeborn.’

‘Well, that’s a relief.’ Probus gave a grim laugh. ‘It was a risk for me, but it was the boy I did it for. Genialis is innocent and I did not want him to suffer.’

‘And now?’

The merchant stared out at one of the enemy sentries. ‘Can’t see his face from so far away, but wonder if I know him.’ He peered at the man, as he went on. ‘And now? Could you prove any of this in court?’

‘Perhaps,’ Ferox said. ‘Perhaps not.’

‘I’m not going back. The lands, all the rest, none of it matters. If we live through this I’ll go to Hibernia and stay there. I have some friends. Genialis can come with me, unless he wants to stay in Britannia. Be nice if he could keep at least some of the estates. Still, I know that that is not for you to say.’

‘No. All I know is that you have fought with us and for that you have my thanks. I know you came for your son, but you have helped us as well.’

‘He isn’t my son, though, is he? That bastard out there – my brother – is his father. Genialis has brought me good fortune and I have loved him as if he was my own, but he isn’t, much as I loved his mother.

‘I know what he is like,’ he added in a softer tone. ‘There’s a vicious streak in him. Maybe I was too kind. When you’ve been a slave you are desperate to give something better to a child. I have indulged him too much, or botched it all when I tried to be firm. It isn’t just that. He’s different to everyone else, just like his mother and aunt – and even his brute of a father. From early on he sensed it. He has dreams and sees things. And there is the luck. That’s why Cniva wants him, more than anything else. I’m guessing he wants more than this island, and whatever he wants will come through fire and slaughter.’

‘That’s why we need to stop him,’ Ferox said. ‘Stop him now and wipe them all from the earth.’ He had an uneasy sense that he sounded like Acco when he talked of Rome.

Probus sniffed. ‘Just us?’

‘Help will come.’

The merchant lifted his sword. ‘Will it? We won’t last another day like this one.’ He stiffened, but Ferox had already seen the movement on the lake. There were two, maybe three dark shapes out on the lake to their right. He scanned the shore, then the water on the other side of the causeway and saw nothing. Some instinct made him look ahead again and he saw creeping shapes heading for them.

Ferox tapped one of the Batavians on the shoulder and pointed out across the water. ‘You watch them,’ he whispered. Then he picked up one of the javelins propped beside the barricade. The shapes on the causeway were still indistinct, but it was clear that men were crawling towards them.

‘I wouldn’t worry about it all.’ The centurion spoke to the merchant, resuming their conversation. ‘They’ll be here soon enough. I dare say the tribune and the legate will speak up for you and your boy with the emperor.’ The shapes were coming closer. He thought that there were three or four of them. ‘The Lord Trajan is a good man, they say, ready to understand. After all, it’s not as if you ate anyone…’

One of the shapes sprang up and rushed at them. Ferox threw, the javelin hit the man in the midriff and he grunted as he fell. Probus threw another, which dug into a second warrior’s thigh. He yelped, and then screamed as his comrades helped him back. The Batavian threw their third and last javelin, but cursed as it splashed into the water. The dark shapes retreated.

It went quiet and they waited.

‘That looks like it for the moment,’ Ferox said. ‘But they might come on again.’

‘Why should they?’ Probus asked. ‘We cannot go anywhere. All they have to do is wait.’

‘Help is on its way.’

‘Is it? And do they know that? Cniva won’t want to lose too many men because they are hard to replace. Why not let hunger do his work for him?’

‘They will come for us,’ Ferox assured him, believing it was true, but wondering whether they would come in time. ‘Cheer up. You have just said that your son brings good fortune.’

Probus chuckled. ‘Yes. But he might bring it for Cniva.’

Ferox laughed, and once he started he could not stop and had to lean against the wall. Sometimes this Roman habit of chattering away could lift spirits.

Nothing happened in the rest of their watch. He told Longinus and Vindex about the brief attack. There was no need to warn them to be on their guard. In the entrance, Falx and Brigita sat honing their weapons. Their task was to guard the doorway and act as reserve to the others. The queen had her armour on, but was bareheaded, her dark hair once again neatly coiled up on top of her head. Bran sat on the floor beside her, polishing the bronze helmet with dedicated reverence. Ferox thought of the boy’s ardent wish for a wife with long dark hair and he could not help smiling. Probus patted the gladiator on the shoulder as he went past, as a man might pat a favourite hound. The big Dacian did not react or say anything, but that was nothing unusual.

Ovidius was waiting at the end of the tunnel. ‘All well, centurion?’

‘We’re still alive,’ he said, and thought at once that that was cruel to the fallen. ‘You look as if you have been in a battle, my lord.’

The poet’s hands were bloody. ‘Sulpicia Lepidina, femina clarissima and daughter of an ex-consul, has been showing me how to cut up and joint piglets.’ Ovidius was smiling in self-mockery, and yet there was a trace of pride in his words.

‘Who is up top?’

‘That silent northerner with the red mark on his face. Your son, my dear Probus, is due to relieve him in a moment.’

‘Then I had better see him before he goes on duty.’ The merchant was walking stiffly from fatigue, but went to the ladder and began to climb.

‘You should get some sleep, my lord,’ Ferox said to Ovidius when the man had gone. ‘Butchery is hard work.’

‘I am tired. It’s quite a novelty. I mean, everyone feels like sleep at times, but I cannot remember when I last felt so truly weary. The Greeks must have a word for this sort of revelation, when your senses become more alive.’

‘I need to sleep, my lord,’ Ferox interrupted, because he sensed that this might be a long digression.

‘Of course, of course, my dear fellow. Here am I wittering on. Oh yes, I nearly forgot. The lady would like to have a word with you about provisions.’

‘She is awake?’

‘Still at work with the bacon. Goodnight, centurion. And thank you for what you are doing.’ The little man clambered up the ladder.

Ferox saw the light from the room that had been her prison. The door was ajar, and he knocked before he entered. Sulpicia Lepidina wore a tartan dress, sleeveless and gathered in at the waist by a rope belt. It was something they had found in the tower, simple and rough woven, and Ferox wondered whether it had belonged to Cniva’s woman. He doubted that she had filled it half as well, for the lady had the curves of a draped statue. The prefect’s wife must have found some pins from somewhere, because her hair was tied back in a bun, and that made her more formal, except for the fact that she was working with bloodied hands to rub salt into cuts of meat.