Danger in the Wind (42 page)

We all followed him, leaving Chloe working laboriously by the door.

Lucius joined in. “So am I. I wonder if they’ll bring us any food.”

“I shouldn’t be feeling hungry at all,” I said. “I ate far too much at the party yesterday. Did anybody try the goose with cherry sauce? It was really delicious.”

We babbled on, keeping the chatter going while watching Chloe, willing her to get herself free. We must have discussed every dish on offer yesterday and were starting on the wines, and I for one was beginning to wonder if she’d ever do it. I racked my brains for another inane topic of conversation.

Then suddenly she let out a stifled gasp and stepped back from the door, waving both hands in the air. She forgot that her feet were tied and went full length on the earth floor, but she leapt up immediately and was still waving.

“Done it!”
It was only a whisper, but it held a whole world of triumph.

“I think that party was one of the most brilliant I’ve ever seen,” Quintus said aloud. We all agreed enthusiastically, trusting that our audience wouldn’t realise where the real brilliance lay.

Chloe flapped her hands, flexing her fingers to loosen their stiffness. Then she sat upright, leant forward, and untied her feet. She stood up a little unsteadily, and walked across to where we all sat.

“Who first?”
she mouthed.
“You, Quintus Antonius? Your bad arm must be painful.”

Quintus glanced round at us.
“I suppose nobody is carrying a knife?”

“I am,”
I said.
“In my belt-pouch.”

“Excellent. Use that, Chloe.”

It was, as Congrio had said, a good little knife. She had us all free in no time. The relief was enormous. We could move and walk about, and that made us feel that somehow we had a measure of control over our situation. It was hard to keep remembering not to exclaim aloud.

But our pleasure didn’t last long. There was a shout somewhere outside, too distant to make out the words, then came hoof-beats, a single horse cantering through the trees. When the rider shouted again, nearer this time, we could all hear the one word “Venutius!”

“What’s up?” Someone answered from close by the barn. “Who wants the prince? Oh, it’s you, Katakos. What’s all the noise for?”

The man was panting, speaking in short jerky sentences. “They’ve broken their word. At the fort. They’ve executed two already.”

“What? Two of ours? You sure about that?”

“Yes, quite sure. Brennus’ son is one; don’t know about the other. The lads on watch in the village saw it. They sent word as we arranged. Stone dead, they are. So much for waiting until dawn!”

Someone else said, “Well, if they won’t wait, we don’t have to. We can take our revenge as soon as we like.” Several of his comrades cheered.

Katakos said, “Pass the word to the others, will you? I must find Venutius.”

“I’m here, Katakos. They’ve started the killings, you say?”

“Yes, Venutius. Two dead already.”

“Then we must act now. Call the men here.”

There was the sound of a horn blown long and loud, three blasts in all. As the echoes died away in the woods I heard Quintus mutter, “Gods, this is what we’ve been dreading. The start of open war.”

Nobody else spoke for a while. What can you say when you’ve just listened to your death sentence?

Chapter XXIX

Eventually Lucius burst out, “How in the gods’ name could Trebonius do this? After the message Venutius sent him, after we told him what our plans were…he knows we’re out here searching. How could he?”

“It seems he doesn’t care overmuch whether any of us live or die,” Quintus answered bitterly.

I said, “I can see what’s happened, and the gods know what we can do, but Trebonius has kept his word. I’m sure he hasn’t killed any of the hostages from the village, Quintus. The natives have misunderstood something they’ve seen.”

“How can it be a misunderstanding? Either two of the hostages are dead, or they’re alive.”

“But other Brigantians may have been killed in the fighting around the village. There have been patrols out all day, jumpy and angry and waiting for an excuse to spill blood. And some of them have spilt it. Didn’t you here the centurion on duty when we were leaving, telling me two men had been executed in the forum for setting fire to Roman property? And it’s late in the day now, so I doubt if they were the first.”

Lucius swore. “Gods, that’s probably it. We must tell Venutius, try to make him understand that Trebonius hasn’t broken his word.”

Quintus shook his head and put his finger to his lips, then whispered,
“Can’t talk to him, he’ll see that we’re not tied up.”
Aloud he declared, “No point, I’m afraid. He won’t take our word for anything, will he? And even if he did, his men are angry and he probably couldn’t persuade them that arsonists and looters being killed isn’t a cause for war.”

We were all talking loudly, but even so we could hear voices, footsteps, and hoof-beats, the unmistakable sounds of a group of men gathering together. I tried to estimate how many of them there might be, but I couldn’t—a couple of dozen perhaps?

“Listen to me, men of Brigantia.” Venutius’ voice rang out, and they were all immediately quiet. He sounded quite close to us, an unexpected piece of luck, because it meant we could hear what he was saying. “The Roman pigs have broken their word and started to kill the hostages they took this morning. You all know what that means.”

An angry roar rose up from the men, followed by a chilling chant of “Kill the Romans! Kill the Romans!” I felt sick with fear. I went to stand by Quintus and gripped his hand. I saw Lucius put an arm round Vitellia, and Gambax move to comfort Chloe. Titch, the only one without a partner here, stood straight and still with an expression that said anyone who tried to kill him would pay dearly.

“Not so fast, boys,” Venutius called, and the chanting stopped. “Of course you’re angry. So am I. But there’s something else. You know that we picked up the girls by sending them a forged letter this morning. But now more Romans have come out from the fort, five of them, four men and a woman. One of them is a soldier, and they’ve headed directly here to find us. In other words, our base here is no longer secret, and no longer safe. It looks as if someone has talked.”

Somebody shouted, “I never trusted Portius. He used us for his own schemes and plans, he never believed in what we’re trying to do. He’ll drop us when it suits him.”

“Possibly, but not just yet,” Venutius said. “Don’t forget he hasn’t been paid for this last load from Cataractonium, and he’s still desperate for money. And we’ve used him too, remember. All that good Roman leather he’s sent us… Settling his debts was a small price to pay for it, not to mention the information he passed on. No, he’s too smart to mess on his own doorstep.”

“Who’s Portius?”
Gambax whispered.

“Code name. Tell you later,”
Quintus breathed.

“Well, whoever’s talked, we’ve got to move, Venutius,” a voice called.

“Yes, we’ll go tonight. Take as much as we can with us, especially the good stuff, the war gear, boots, all that. The fancy soft leather you got to impress your women may have to stay behind. We can store it all at Katakos’ place for now. That’s never been involved with the stuff from the tannery, so it’ll be safe. All right, Katakos?”

“Fine by me.”

“Then let’s get to it. You all know your jobs. Guards, back in position, there may be other patrols coming our way. Wagon and mule drivers, get the animals and vehicles ready. The rest of you start gathering the leather into manageable bundles and loading it.”

“What’s happening about the hostages?” Katakos asked. “Do I get to store them, too? Or can I just have the women and someone else can take the men?”

“Leave them to me,” Venutius said. “They won’t be going anywhere. The less you all know about it, the better. Accidents will happen, won’t they?”

I didn’t like the way he said that, nor the wave of laughter it brought from the men. An accident…involving us?

As everyone began to move noisily about their business, it was surprisingly easy to form a mental picture of what was happening outside. Some of the footsteps moved away, while others made for the far end of our barn. We heard bolts being shot back, followed by the creak of a heavy door opening, and then curses and grunts as men began to shift the leather that must be stacked up just beyond the partition wall.

What I couldn’t picture was what would happen next. Venutius meant to kill us, that was obvious, but how? From what he’d said, he wouldn’t simply send half-a-dozen warriors into the barn to cut our throats. “Leave them to me…They won’t be going anywhere…Accidents will happen.” I was paralysed with fear, unable to move a muscle, yet my mind raced like a bolting horse.

Quintus, still holding my hand, beckoned everyone into a close circle, and there was a small comfort in feeling the others so near. Whatever we were about to face, we’d be together, we could support each other. However death came to us, we could meet it with, at least, Roman dignity and courage.

“We’ve not much time.” Quintus spoke quietly, but there was no need to whisper now. The noises coming from beyond the partition covered his voice. “We’ve one important advantage, the element of surprise. We can fight our way out when they come to get us. It’s the last thing they’ll be expecting. We’ve a few weapons. Aurelia, your knife. May I use it please?”

“Of course.” I handed it to him.

“And we’ve all got cloaks.” He glanced towards where ours had been thrown into a jumbled heap near the door. Titch went to fetch them, and started handing them round to us.

“Look, we’ve nearly all got those Vulcan’s Shield ones from Congrio,” Vitellia said. “I hope he’s right about them bringing us luck.”

“But a cloak isn’t a weapon,” Chloe objected.

“It can be,” Lucius said. “You can throw it over the enemy’s head to blind him. Or sweep it along near the ground to trip him up.” He advanced on Chloe, flailing his cloak almost on the floor and catching her ankles. She tried to move out of the way and stumbled.

“These can be good too.” Titch took off his leather belt and whirled it around his head. “Catch a man in the face with the buckle, he’ll know about it.”

This is desperation indeed, I thought. How can we face armed barbarian warriors with nothing but one small knife and the clothes on our backs? But of course I took off my belt and whipped it experimentally through the air. The other girls did the same.

“My mama told me,” Vitellia said unexpectedly, “that if I ever needed to defend myself against a man, I could knee him in the balls.”

Lucius’ shocked expression at the notion of his beloved doing any such thing was almost comic. “Now don’t you worry your head, Kitten…”

“Oh I’m not exactly worried,” she answered gravely.” The trouble is, I’d have to get very close to him to do that, wouldn’t I?”

She hadn’t meant to be funny, but it came out like dialogue in a comedy, and everyone laughed. The atmosphere, which had been taut as a catapult-spring, relaxed to a wary alertness. I suddenly felt a rush of excitement, almost exultation. I’ve known it before when I’ve been facing danger. It’s a kind of battle fever, and real soldiers must experience it often; otherwise no man would ever go into battle twice.

I looked at Quintus and Lucius, whose moods I always know so well. They were feeling the same, I was certain of it. Perhaps after all we might take the Brigantians unawares. It was our only hope, but it was at least a hope.

“Get into position,” Quintus said. “Men standing against the wall there so we’ll be next to the door when it opens. Girls sitting in the middle of the floor, not too close together. With luck they’ll come straight in and head for you, not realising that we can outflank them. Sit quietly when they come, then jump at them once they’re clear of the door, and we’ll attack them from behind.”

We did as he ordered. I sat between Chloe and Vitellia, who were both looking pale and frightened. I tried to think of something we could talk about that would keep our minds from brooding on the impending fight.

Chloe provided the obvious topic. “What’s been happening in Isurium while we’ve been stuck here? Did Selena and Statius and all our servants move into the fort?”

I recounted some of that day’s happenings. Most important, I was able to reassure Chloe that Mallius hadn’t killed her mother.

“I suppose that’s something,” she said, with an attempt at casualness which didn’t come off. I could tell she was relieved.

“He said to tell you to forget about the past. All he wants is for you to come back to him safe and sound.”

She ignored the message and asked, “Have you found out who did kill her?”

“Yes, we have. It was Nikias.”

“Nikias?” Vitellia exclaimed. “That nice Greek doctor?”

“Not so nice,” Chloe said. “A slimy little man, I always thought. What’s going to happen to him?”

“He’s dead. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it when we’re safely away from here. But I swore I’d avenge Jovina, and I have.”