Ghost King (19 page)

'The Legate of Legio IX?' 'No. Our Legate is Petillius Cerialis; he did not accompany us. Who are you?' Uther sensed the young man, like all the men he had seen, was on the edge of desperation.

'I am Uther.'

'Where is this place?' asked Severinus, rising. 'We have marched here for months. No food. No water. Yet no thirst, nor hunger. There are creatures within the accursed Mist who drink blood. There are beasts the like of which I have never dreamt of. Are we all dead?'

'I can return you to Eboracum,' said Uther, 'but first there is much you should know.' He walked past the young soldier and seated himself on a divan at the back of the tent. Severinus Albinus joined him. 'Firstly, you marched from Eboracum to aid Paullinus against the Iceni uprising. You entered the Mist - a world of the dead.'

'I know all this,' said Severinus. 'How do we get home?'

Uther raised his hand. 'Gently. Listen to every word. Paullinus defeated Boudicca more than four hundred years ago.'

Then we are dead. Sweet Jupiter, I cannot march any longer!'

'You are not dead, believe me. What I am attempting to tell you is that the world you knew is dead. The Roman Empire is fading. Britain no longer boasts a single Roman legion.'

'I have a wife ... a daughter.'

'No,' said Uther sadly. "They have been dead for four centuries. I can take you to Eboracum. The world is much changed, but the sun still shines and the grapes make wine, and the streams flow clear and the water is good to drink.'

'Who rules in Britain now?' asked Severinus.

'The land is at war. The Brigantes have risen and the Saxons and Jutes have invaded. The Romano-Britons led by Aquila, a pure-blood Roman of noble family, are fighting for their lives. There was a king named Aurelius, but he was murdered. I am his son. And I have journeyed beyond the borders of death to bring you home.' To fight for you?'

To fight for me,'  said  Uther,  'and for yourselves.'

'And you will take us to Eboracum?' 'Not immediately,' said Uther, and told the Roman of the war in Pinrae and the rule of the Witch Queen. Severinus listened in silence.

'There was a time,' he said, when Uther fell silent, 'that I would have mocked your tale. But not here, in this ashen wilderness. You want us to fight for you, Uther? I would sell my soul for one day in the sunshine. No, for a single hour. Just take us away from here.'

*

Fear had brought Uther to the edge of panic. With the four thousand six hundred men of the Ninth Legion marching behind him, he returned to the hill he had first encountered upon entering the Void. Now, after an hour, still he could not open the pathway between the worlds. He had willed himself back, the Stone had glowed and for a moment only he had seen the giant stones of Erin, misty shadows shimmering just out of reach. He heard Severinus Albinus behind him and waved the man back, fighting for calm. He glanced at the Stone; only the thinnest thread of gold remained.

He knew now for certain that the power of the Stone was insufficient to open a gateway large enough to allow the Legion through. He was not even sure whether he himself could return, and his agile mind once more began the long slow examination of all the possibilities.

At last he decided on one supreme effort. He closed his eyes and pictured himself back in Pinrae, but all the while holding the image of the Ninth Legion in his mind. Behind him, Severinus saw Uther grow less tangible, almost wraith-like, but then he was back as before. The prince stared down at the black pebble in his hand and could not find the courage to turn and face the expectant soldiers.

Beyond the Void the army of Goroien had circled the base of the hill, waiting for the order to attack. Maggrig and Korrin had placed archers all around the stones, but there was no way they could repel the armoured soldiers. At best they would wound a score or so, and it seemed to Korrin that more than two thousand men were assembled below.

'Why do they not attack?' he asked the lean wolf-like Maggrig.

They are afraid of Berec's magic. But they will come soon.'

Twenty paces to their left, kneeling behind a fallen stone, Laitha waited with an arrow notched, her eyes fixed on a tall warrior with a purple plume to his helm. She had already decided he would be her target, for no other reason than that she disliked the arrogant way he strode amongst the men below, issuing orders. It made her feel somehow better to know that the strutting peacock would die before she did.

A hand touched her shoulder and she turned to see a tall broad-shouldered man with a golden beard. She could not remember having seen him before.

'Follow me,' he said, his manner showing he was obviously used to being obeyed. He did not look back as Laitha followed him to the centre of the plateau.

'Who are you?' she asked.

'Hold fast to your questions and climb the altar.' She moved up on the broken central stones, clambering over the scarred and pitted runes worked into the surfaces.

The bearded man spoke just as she reached the highest point and stood precariously on the top stone, some six feet from the ground.

'Now lift your hand above your head.'

'For what purpose?'

'You feel there is time for debate? Obey me.'

Biting back her anger, she raised her right arm. 'Higher!' he said. As she did so her fingers touched something cold and clinging and she withdrew her hand instinctively. 'It is only water,' he assured her. 'Push high and open your fingers. Grasp what is there and draw it down.'

Suddenly a great cry went up, a battle roar that chilled the blood, and the soldiers of Goroien swept up the hill. Arrows sang down to meet them, some glancing from armoured breastplates or helms, others wedging in the flesh of bare legs and arms.

'Reach   up!'   ordered   the   tall   stranger. 'Swiftly, if you value your life.'

Laitha pushed her hand through the invisible barrier of water and opened her fingers. She felt the cold touch of metal and the yielding warmth of leather. Grasping the object tightly, she drew it down. In her hand was a great sword with an upswept hilt of burnished gold and a silver blade, double-edged, engraved with runes she could not recognise.

'Follow me,' said the man, running towards the rocks where Uther had last been seen. Halting, he pulled Laitha forward. 'When I finish speaking, smite the air before you.' The words which followed meant nothing to Laitha, but the air around him hissed and crackled as if a storm was due. Wow!' he shouted. The sword slashed forward and a great wind blew up. Lightning flashed towards the sky and the Mist billowed from where she struck. Laitha was hurled backwards to the ground.

Uther leapt from the Mist, glancing around him. At the far end of the plateau the rebels began to stream back and the prince could see the plumed helms of Goroien's soldiers. Just then, Severinus Albinus stepped into the sunshine with the Ninth Legion following him. Some of the men fell to their knees as the sunshine touched them, others began to weep in their joy and relief. Severinus, though young, was a seasoned campaigner and he took in the situation in an instant.

'Alba formation!' he yelled and Roman discipline was restored. Legionaries bearing their embossed rectangular bronze shields drew their swords and formed a fighting line, pushing forward and spreading out to allow the spearmen through. As the rebels ran back, the line opened before them.

Goroien's soldiers had an opportunity then to rush the line, but they did not. They were mostly men of Pinrae and they knew the legend of the Ghost Army. They stood transfixed as the Legion formed a square and advanced with shields locked, long spears protruding. The soldiers of Pinrae were not cowards - they would face, and had faced, overwhelming odds - but they had already seen the coming of the God, Berec. Now more and more spirits of the dead were issuing from the Mist, and this they could not bear. Slowly they backed away, returning to the base of the hill. The Legion halted at the circle of stones, awaiting orders.

In the safety of the square Uther helped Laitha to her feet. 'How did you do that? I thought I was fin . . .'He stumbled to a halt as he saw the great sword lying on the ground at Laitha's feet. He dropped to his knees, his hand curling round the hilt. 'My father's sword!' he whispered. 'The Sword of Cunobelin.' He rose. 'How?'

Laitha swung around, seeking the man with the golden beard, but he was nowhere in sight.

She explained swiftly as Severinus Albinus approached.

'What are your orders, Prince Uther? Shall we attack?'

Uther shook his head and, carrying the longsword, strode to the edge of the square. The legionaries stepped aside and he walked down the hill, halting some thirty feet from the enemy line. A bowman notched an arrow.

'Draw the string and I'll turn your eyes to maggot balls,' said the prince. The man dropped both bow and arrow instantly.

'Let your leader step forward!'

A short, stocky middle-aged man in a silver breastplate walked from the line. He licked his lips as he came but held his shoulders back, pride preventing him from a display of fear.

'You know who I am,' said Uther, 'and you can see that the Ghosts have come home. I gauge you are now outnumbered two to one, and I can see that your men are in no condition for battle.'

'I cannot surrender,' said the man.

'I see that, but neither would the queen desire you to throw away the lives of your men needlessly. Take your army from Mareen-sa and report to Astarte.'

The man nodded. 'What you say is logical. Might I ask why you are sparing us?'

'I am not here to see the men of Pinrae slaughter one another. I am here to destroy the Witch Queen. Do not misjudge my mercy. If we meet again on the field of battle, I will crush you and any who stand in my path.'

The man bowed stiffly. 'My name is Agarin Finder, and if I am ordered to stand in your path I will do so.'

'I would expect no less from a man of duty. Go now!'

Uther swung on his heel and returned to the plateau, calling Severinus to him. The young Roman followed him into the long building.

'Gods, I am hungry,' said Severinus, 'and what a wonderful feeling it is!' On the table was a flagon of wine and Uther poured two goblets, passing one to the Roman.

'We must leave the forest and march on Callia, a town nearby,' said Uther. 'There are insufficient supplies here to feed a legion.'

Severinus nodded. 'You chose not to fight. Why?'

'The Roman army was once the finest the world had seen. The discipline was second to none, and many a battle was turned on that. But your men were not ready, not after the creeping horror of the Void. They need time to feel the sunlight on their faces; then they will be truly Legio IX.'

'You are a careful commander, Prince Uther. I like that.'

'Speaking of care, I want you to take your men from the plateau and prepare your defensive enclosure below; there is a stream there. Do not allow your men to mix with the people of Pinrae. You have been part of their legends for hundreds of years and on certain nights they even watch you march. It is a trick of the Mist. But the important point is this: they believe you are of Pinrae, and part of their history. As such we will gain support from the country. Let no one suspect you are from another world.'

'I understand. How is it that these people speak Latin?'

"They do not, but I'll explain that at another time. Send out a scouting troop to follow Goro-ien's soldiers from the forest. I will try to arrange some food for your men.' Severinus drew himself upright and saluted and Uther acknowledged the gesture with a smile.

As Severinus left the room, Korrin and Pra-samaccus entered.

Korrin almost ran forward, his green eyes ablaze with excitement. 'You did it!' he shouted, his fist punching the air.

'It is pleasant to be back,' said Uther. 'Where is the man with the golden beard?'

'I do not know who you mean,' answered Korrin.

Uther waved his hand. 'It does not matter. Tomorrow we march on Callia and I want your best men, trusted men, to precede us. The Ghost Army of Pinrae is returning to free the land and the word must be spread. With luck, the town will open its gates without a battle.'

‘I’ll send Maggrig and Hogun. Gods, man, to think I almost killed you!'

Uther reached out and gripped Korrin's shoulder. 'It is good to see you smile. Now leave me with Prasamaccus.' The huntsman grinned, stepped back and bowed deeply.

'Are you still set on leaving Pinrae?'

'I am - but not until Goroien is finished.'

Then that will suffice.'

After he had gone, Prasamaccus accepted a goblet of wine and leaned in close, studying Uther's face. 'You are tired, my prince. You should rest.'

'Look,' said Uther,-lifting the sword. 'The blade of Cunobelin, the Sword of Power, and I do not know how it came to Laitha. Or why. I was trapped in the Void, Prasamaccus, and trying to find a way to tell almost five thousand men that I had raised their hopes for nothing. And just then, like a ghost, I saw Laitha raise a sword and cut the Mist as if it were the skin of a beast.'

Prasamaccus opened his mouth to phrase a question but stopped, his jaw hanging. Uther turned to follow the direction of his gaze. Sitting by a new fire was the golden-bearded man, holding tanned hands towards the blaze.

'Leave us,' Uther told the Brigante. Prasamaccus needed no second invitation and hobbled from the room as Uther approached the stranger.

'I owe you my life,' he said.

'You owe me nothing,' replied the man, smiling. 'It is pleasant to meet a young man who holds duty so dear. It is not a common trait.'

'Who are you?'

'I am the king lost to history, a prince of the past. My name is Pendarric.'

Uther pulled up a chair and sat beside the man. 'Why are you here?'

'We   share   a   common   enemy,   Uther:

Goroien. But aiding you was merely a whim -at least, I think it was.'

'I do not understand you.'

'It is especially pleasant after so many centuries to find that I can still be surprised. Did Laitha tell you how she came by the sword?'

'She said she drew it through the air, and her hand was wet as if dipped in a river.'