Jack Whyte - The Skystone

"And even less with me. We are old enemies. Personal enemies."

"Oh. I was unaware of that. That is unfortunate."

"Will Seneca be my judge?"

"He will. He is the legate. He is God, on campaign. You know that."

"He could refuse to countenance my evidence."

Lucca nodded, slowly. "He could, and would be well within his rights. You stand condemned already."

I took advantage of the short pause that followed these words to turn and look back at our forces. Every eye was fixed upon us, and I wondered what they were all thinking. Another bee hummed loudly in my ear and I swatted at it, uselessly. Britannicus spoke again.

"Where is the Legate quartered?"

"Officially? At Lindum, about thirty miles from here. But he is camped much closer today, in a fortified base camp about six miles from here. He has important guests in his train — a senatorial party from the Court of the Emperor, sent to inspect the progress of our campaign. He brought them out to visit the base camp yesterday. They return to Lindum tomorrow."

Britannicus raised his eyebrow. "Senators? Do you know their names?"

Lucca frowned slightly. "The senior is Flavinius Tesca. I do not recall the other names."

"Flavinius Tesca! I know him from better times. He is an honest and honourable man." Britannicus inhaled a deep breath and rose to his tiptoes, before rocking back on his heels. "Tribune Lucca, if you can guarantee to bring my men and me before the Legate Seneca while he has Flavinius Tesca in his train, I will surrender to you and rely on Tesca to see justice done on our behalf."

"I can guarantee nothing, Tribune." Lucca was frowning now, but all of us heard the honorific he accorded Britannicus. "It is my duty to take you and your men into my custody. If that is effected quickly and without strife, then I will deliver you today to face the Legate Seneca. But I must warn you that the Senator, Flavinius Tesca, has no authority over the Legate Seneca in matters pertaining to discipline and military law."

"I am aware of that, Tribune." The resolve in my commander's tone told me that he had made his decision. "But Flavinius Tesca is an imperial senator, and therefore a direct representative of the Emperor himself, here in Britain upon imperial affairs. If you will grant me one moment to address my men, who have no idea they stand accused, far less condemned, of anything, I will surrender them, and myself, to you. It seems ironic that my soldiers expect celebration and reward for having fought for, and maintained, their Roman pride, do you not agree? How eagerly would they have fought this past year, I wonder, knowing that they faced court martial and death on winning home?"

"Very well." Lucca sounded and appeared disconcerted. "Speak to them. While you do so. I will furnish you and your officers with horses."

"My thanks. Tribune."

Britannicus caught my eye and we turned to leave, but Lucca stopped us. calling Britannicus by name. We turned back to face him again, seeing the wish to believe in his eyes.

"You really believe you can establish your innocence?"

"I have said so."

"You must know it seems impossible."

I agreed with Lucca. At that point, I was half convinced that, on returning to our own men, Britannicus would tell them what had happened and then try to fight his way out of this valley. But to where? My mind had not been able to stretch that far. I found myself staring at Britannicus, awaiting his answer as eagerly as Lucca was. Britannicus looked at me and saw the lack of understanding in my face. He smiled at me and looked back at Lucca.

"Impossible? It would be, had I not decided the day the Wall went down to keep a daily record of our campaign. I have those written records, faithfully compiled day by day by our clerk, dated and signed by me. The written record of almost five hundred days, signed and dated by me each day. I began it on a whim; I maintained it out of habit and discipline; and it seems now I retained it and protected it by the will of God against this day and these charges."

Lucca's eyes had grown round in surprise, and he began to shake his head slowly in wonder. "That would be proof to me, if I could read, " he said.

"My friend, " said Britannicus softly, "it will be proof to Flavinius Tesca, no matter what the Legate Seneca may say."

The mention of his commander's name wiped the smile from Lucca's face. He stood to attention and snapped a salute, which we returned.

"Tribune, " he said, in a voice filled with strength and resolution, "you and your men may retain your weapons for the present. My cohorts will escort you, not convey you."

"Are you sure you wish to do that, Tribune Lucca?" Britannicus spoke in a low voice. "Seneca will not thank you for the failure to disarm convicted felons."

"Yes, Tribune, I am sure. The Legate will have my head for it, I think, but only if you fail to make your case." Lucca smiled again. "This is my tribute, a personal one, to Julian. I believe you, and I believe in him. Besides —" he turned his smile for the first time on his companion, young Barates Placidus "— it may be the only way to bring you into custody. Your men are hardened veterans, survivors, where mine are little more than unblooded recruits. Is that not so, Barates Placidus?"

The young man blinked. "Yes, Tribune."

"So be it, " Britannicus murmured. "We shall not forget this, Tertius Lucca."

We returned to our own men, and Britannicus informed them of the conversation that had just taken place. Grim-faced, they listened in silence as he outlined the situation and emphasized the importance of the journal carried by Luscar, the clerk. He ended his address by reassuring them and making them laugh, in spite of the gravity of our situation.

"I have brought you here safely, " he told them, "and I do not intend to abandon you now. I have spoken at length with each man among you several times since we began this odyssey of ours. You know that all of you are important to me. Trust me now. I will not let you down. But, for the love of God, look after Luscar for these next few hours. He is to be the hero of this day, but if we lose him now, we are all lost!" Almost two hours later, we reached the camp. Lucca had sent word of our coming, and they were ready for us. Taking their direction from Britannicus, our men were solemn and unsmiling. The gates of the camp opened to greet us in silence, and beyond them we could see rank upon rank of legionaries standing stiffly. There was no sign or sound of welcome as we passed through the gates, and my belly was cramping with apprehension, terrified by what I was seeing.

The entire garrison was turned out and battle-ready, formed up in the hollow square into which we were marching. At the far end, opposite us, stood a magnificently uniformed legate, surrounded by his staff officers. Britannicus rode straight towards this group and reined his horse in, holding up his right hand in the signal for us to halt, which we did, coming to attention. The silence in the square was absolute. I was aware of the civilians in the background: three tall men and a shorter one, all wearing amazingly clean, brightly coloured clothing.

The Legate, a vision in silver and scarlet and black. spoke in a high, neighing voice that dripped with dislike and a kind of triumph.

"The prisoner will dismount!"

Prisoner? I felt the tension of the men behind me increase immediately. Even my own skin broke out in goose-flesh at the sound of the horrible word, even though I had been expecting it and rehearsing the sound of it in my mind. I swung around and barked, "Stand fast!" over my shoulder. The few faces I saw in the brief glimpse I had of my men were confused and incredulous.

"Stand fast, damn you!" I roared again.

Britannicus made no move to dismount. He remained motionless and silent.