Адриан Голдсуорти: The Encircling Sea

He went out of the door and the first thing he heard was the harsh call of Morrigan’s raven, perched on the roof. There were plenty of carrion birds come to the island, but this was not chance either and the bird’s dark eyes watched him with a spirit not belonging to any mere creature.

Ferox went to the edge of the cliffs. There, a mile or more out to sea was a little dot on the waves.

‘It is a boat,’ Bran said, the lad appearing from nowhere beside him. During the last fight he had not glimpsed the boy, but was relieved to find him safe.

Crispinus burst out of the hall, face angry, but realised where they were looking and cupped his hand around his eyes to see better. He shook his head. ‘I cannot see anything.’

‘He has gone beyond our reach.’

‘That cannot be helped.’ Crispinus grasped his arm so that he turned to face him. ‘It is a shame, but we did not come here for him. We came to free our hostages and we have done that. We came to avenge ourselves on the Usipi and Harii and the rest and we have done that. You have made it happen.’ He gripped the arm even tighter. ‘It is over, apart from victory, and we will not talk too much of that because then we would have to admit that all this was caused by deserters and mutineers. It would not fit well with the dignity of the new era of Trajan if people knew that an equestrian officer and his even more distinguished wife could be abducted by such scum.

‘It is over. Be glad that we have won and not lost, and then do your best to forget all about it because this is a story that shall not be told.’

‘And Probus?’

‘Is dead, along with his son. No one need ever know that the prosperous merchant was a mutineer and murderer. Think how embarrassing that would be to all those influential men who wrote letters recommending him.’

‘Quite shocking,’ Cerialis agreed.

‘So shocking that it could not possibly be true,’ Crispinus went on. ‘Forget all of this. People die all the time, and it is surprising how quickly they are forgotten by all except their loved ones or those who hated them. Forget it all.’

‘It has not happened in secret, my lords.’ Ferox did not care that much what people believed, but he did wonder whether it would all be quite as easy as the tribune suggested.

Crispinus let go of his arm and shrugged. ‘There will be rumours, of course. There always are. But nothing anyone can prove. None of this should have happened, so it cannot have happened, can it?’

Ferox stiffened to attention, feeling a sharp stab of pain from his side. ‘Sir!’ he said.

‘Good. Now get that taken care of. Carry on, centurion.’ Crispinus smiled. ‘And well done. To be honest, I never thought that we would get away with it.’

‘And you have my heartiest thanks, once again,’ Cerialis added, offering his hand.

Ferox shook it, too tired to feel much guilt or sorrow. He was still on the edge of the world, but knew that once again a great chasm had opened to separate him from Sulpicia Lepidina. At least she was safe, and part of him wanted to gaze upon her, even though he knew that the pain would be crueller than any wound to the body.

Six corpses lay in a row near the top of the cliff. The mother was in the centre, the redhead to her right and then two boys on either side. Several of the other lads and girls were wounded, but the woman with brown hair had at last found a tunic and covered herself more effectively.

‘I will see that you are helped to do what is necessary,’ Ferox said to Brigita. ‘They all fought with courage.’

‘It was their fight, as much as ours,’ the queen said.

‘I am sorry about your mother. She did not deserve to die here, but I am not sure whether we would have won without her.’

‘To fight broke her oath, and she knew just what would happen, but did it anyway because it was the right thing. But the mother has not died, for the mother can never die. I am the mother now.’

Ferox said nothing. Her tone was firm, and there was no point stating the obvious. A woman who had been a queen was choosing to spend the rest of her life on a tiny island training young warriors.

‘I have a favour to ask,’ Brigita said. ‘Give the boy to me.’ She must have sensed his confusion. ‘Release Bran from his oath for the moment. Let him come with us and learn and in time he will return and serve you for three years. He has the makings of a great warrior, and you will always have the need of men who can fight.’

The boy’s eager expression made his desire clear.

‘So be it,’ Ferox said.

‘Now we must lament the fallen,’ she said. ‘It is not something that others may share.’

Ferox left them to it and walked back around the hall. As he left he heard a soft wailing song begin and found tears pricking at his eyes. Most of the troops were further down, clearing all the buildings of anything of value and then putting them to the torch. Segovax and his brother sat on the grass on either side of the spear topped by Cniva’s head, and Ferox went to them. Vindex sensed the moment and appeared beside him.

‘It is over,’ Ferox said. ‘You have kept your oath and I thank you.’

Segovax stood up, his hand gripping his sword. His brother stared at them for a moment and then got to his feet. He had been holding his sword across his legs. The blade was notched from the fighting and still stained with blood. A gust of wind whipped smoke over their heads and the raven cried out again.

‘They are all dead?’ the Red Cat said.

‘Every last one. So is Genialis. The druid killed him.’

There was no hint of surprise, so he guessed that word of this had already reached them.

The thief rubbed the blemish on his face. ‘There are tears to weep for our families,’ he said.

‘I know.’

‘But at least their spirits will know that they have been avenged.’ The Red Cat very carefully uncurled his fingers from the handle of his sword and dropped it on the grass

‘We will not kill you today,’ Segovax rumbled. ‘One day perhaps, but not today.’

‘I am glad,’ Ferox said. ‘There has been enough killing, and there are enough tears to shed.’ He felt Vindex relaxing beside him.

‘We will take a boat from the harbour and go,’ the Red Cat told them.

‘Never bring the Romans to our land.’ his brother said. ‘If you do, we will fight until our last breath. Farewell, Romans.’

‘Did he just call me a Roman?’ Vindex whispered after they had gone.

‘Don’t worry, people call me that all the time.’

The journey home took longer than expected, for the weather turned against them and for days they had to ride out a storm, which blew them a long way out to sea. Food was running short in the triremes by the time they sighted Alauna. Ovidius travelled in the same ship as Ferox and Vindex and chattered for all of the voyage, apart from when he was seasick or in his rare hours of sleep. Cerialis and his wife were in another of the transport ships, and once or twice in the lighter winds, Ferox saw her golden hair as she stood on the distant deck. In the meantime, Philo fussed over him, shaving him whenever the sea was calm enough and changing the dressing on his wound even when it was not.

On the journey eastwards, they travelled as one company, and the Lady Sulpicia was lively, her laughter filling the air and lifting the mood of all around her. When they came in sight of Vindolanda, Claudia Severa had come out to meet them with the children and there were tears as well as joy. Both ladies in turn gave Ferox a chaste kiss on the cheek to thank him for all that he had done. He felt – or perhaps he imagined – a faint tremor in Sulpicia as she stood beside him. Then little Marcus began to cry and the mother rushed to hold him and calm him. Cerialis had thanked him several times, but now did so again.