Адриан Голдсуорти - The Encircling Sea

‘I fell asleep,’ Genialis explained when he was summoned. ‘I am sorry.’ His eyes flickered in the torchlight and he did not sound repentant. He seemed fascinated by the great bulk of the gladiator. They had taken him to lie out in one of the little rooms off the entrance tunnel. It took six of them to lift him and they did not want to take him any further. They cleaned him up, Sulpicia Lepidina supervising as they bound up his wounds.

‘I would like to make a poultice, but I do not have what I need,’ she said. ‘Pack this over the wound.’ She handed them some padded cloth. ‘We shall have to change it every few hours.’

Falx said nothing, but now and again he gave a gentle sigh. Probus came in and knelt beside his man. ‘You are free,’ he said, reaching for his hand and then realising that it was the injured one. ‘Do you hear me, you are a free man. When we get home, I’ll give you a farm or money to go wherever you will. You don’t have to fight anymore.’

Falx said nothing, his little eyes staring up at the bare stone roof. Ferox wondered whether it would be any comfort to be promised freedom and doubted it. Still, Probus had been a slave, so maybe he understood better.

‘Keep him warm,’ the lady commanded.

‘You heard, boy.’ Ferox had to stop himself from snarling the words at Genialis. ‘Get some blankets and do your best to make him comfortable. That is your job from now on.’

‘I am not your slave. Get the boy to do it.’

His father stood up. ‘Go on,’ Probus said. ‘He’s earned our thanks and more. If he hadn’t held them up then we’d all be dead.’

Genialis left, avoiding their gaze.

‘It’s my fault,’ Probus said after he had gone. Ferox was not sure whether he meant the gladiator’s terrible wounds or his son’s sullenness or both. ‘I wonder if he knows who he really is,’ he added, and then realised that the lady was still with them.

‘I had better go,’ she said, not seeking an explanation. ‘I could do with more rest, although I am sure you men need it far more. Thank you for what you are doing. All of you.’ She smiled at Probus and then crouched down beside the gladiator. Gently she ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. ‘You are a brave man,’ she said to him, and kissed his forehead for an instant.

Falx pushed himself up on his elbow, staring at her. His lips moved, as if he was trying to speak, and then he simply smiled and lay back down.

‘Be dawn soon,’ Ferox said. ‘You should get some rest, my lady.’

She left, just as Genialis returned, with a couple of blankets flecked with straw. The lady ignored the youth as he looked her up and down. Then he threw the blankets onto the floor.

‘Give me a hand, son,’ Probus said, and Ferox went out to check on the causeway. Longinus waved from the barricade to show that all was well.

A grey dawn came, windless and with a mist so thick that even from the barricade the shore was only just visible. Ferox, Segovax and the two Batavians resumed duty on the causeway. Even the northerner was tense, because it was so easy to imagine invisible enemies massing for an attack. Once or twice they saw a lone warrior walk to the edge of the water and stare at them.

No attack came, and after four hours Longinus and Vindex came out to relieve them. Around noon the mist was thinner and they could see sentries dotted around the shore. Cniva and a few other horsemen rode around the lake and then vanished. The wind picked up, blowing from the south west, which was a good direction to speed rescue. It stripped away the last of the grey mist, but then it turned northerly and that was not so good. Ferox and the others returned to the barricade and the day wore on. Bran and the Red Cat were both up on the tower, and the boy waved if he saw anyone glance up.

Part way through his watch Vindex strolled out to join them. A knot of a dozen or so pirates stood twenty paces back from the causeway, and a few more were over on their left. Each group held their shields up in a wall, but made no attempt to come closer.

‘Volunteering for extra work?’ Ferox said, watching the enemy to see whether they planned to do any more.

‘Just stretching my legs,’ the Brigantian replied. ‘You know how I hate crowds. That place is like a city.’

‘We’re getting less and less of a crowd all the time.’

‘I know. Donnotaurus just died.’ He was the scout wounded in the neck the day before.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ferox said. He had not known the man at all well, and struggled now to picture his face, but he meant what he said.

‘Aye, well, so was he. Bit surprised he lasted this long.’

‘The Carvetii are tough.’

‘Aye. Near the end he asked me for a promise. I gave it to him, but I won’t be able to do it without you.’ The scout rubbed his lean, skull-like face. ‘Aye, you’ll do it because you know it’s right. He made me promise that we kill every last one of these bastards.’

‘We will.’ It was always a surprise when Segovax broke his habitual silence. ‘Every last one.’

The only time Ferox could remember the Brigantian hating as strongly as this was when the Stallion’s men had buried a boy while he was still alive. He knew how both men felt. There was an evil in this place and in these enemies that cried out for vengeance. Neither of the northerners had any doubt that their families were dead, and he was sure they suspected that they suffered a lot before the end came. Even if they hurt Cniva and his men so badly that they never tried to raid the province again that would not be enough. To let them lurk up here and trouble villages and farms far away from the empire was an impiety. These were men who should not be allowed to live after what they had done and were still doing.

‘I vow it to all the gods and spirits who are listening,’ he said, hoping that they would all be spared long enough to fulfil the pledge.

Vindex nodded. ‘Good.’

An arrow struck the barricade, sticking into the top of the barrel inches from Ferox’s finger. Another came from the other side, whipping through the air just over Vindex’s head.

‘Bugger,’ he hissed. ‘Well, we’re humped.’

Two more shafts came a moment later, one sticking into the causeway behind them and the other bouncing off the barricade. Ferox could see an archer behind each cluster of shields. The group closest to the causeway started to walk forward, keeping in rank, the archer shooting over their shoulders.

Ferox ducked as another arrow whipped past. Neither of the archers were very good, and their bows were not strong, but that did not matter because they had no way of replying.

‘Time to go, boys,’ he said. Vindex had not brought a shield. ‘You keep behind us.’ He stood up, shield braced. Segovax joined him on the right and one of the Batavians on the left. ‘Keep it steady. Back a pace at a time.’

An arrow struck his shield and stuck there, but only the very tip of the point came through.

‘Back,’ he said. Vindex dashed away at a crouch, and the other Batavian saw the danger and caught an arrow aimed at the scout on his shield. The pirates charged along the causeway, while the archer ran out to the flank.

‘Keep together,’ Ferox called. ‘Back, lads, back.’ The tone mattered more than the words. The black-clad warriors were in the ditch, and for the moment they were in the way and stopped the archers from shooting. The second group were rushing to join them, and twenty more pirates ran over the little hill and down towards the causeway as well.

An arrow skittered across the stones next to Ferox’s feet. They took another step back, and another and he was trying to remember how many paces there were to the second wall and the shelter of the entrance.