The Black Stone (64 page)

‘I’m a dead man,’ muttered Ulixes. ‘The pain is even worse.’ He punched the ground. ‘I curse the gods. I curse them all!’

‘Don’t say that,’ hissed Bucoli.

‘Think they’re going to help you, lad? We’re nothing but entertainment for them.’

‘That’s enough,’ said Mercator.

Indavara briefly checked the area for any more of the creatures then crouched down close to the end of the outcrop. He ran his sword in and out of the scabbard a few times to make sure it wouldn’t stick, then checked his boots. He laid the bow beside him and inspected the spear. It was crudely made but six feet long with a heavy iron head. He put it next to the bow.

Gutha recruited another man to speed things along. Once his mail-shirt was on and the studded bronze chest and back plates attached, it was time for the greaves and arm-guards. Gutha had once weighed the entire arrangement and it had been even heavier than he’d imagined: eighty pounds, not including the helmet, which he put on last.

Six of the remaining warriors had shields; they would lead the way. Their job was to advance on the two bowmen and keep them occupied while another six came in behind them to take out the others. Gutha had selected the strongest four as his reserve. If any of the raiders were still standing, they would follow up and finish them off.

All the horses had been tied up some distance back.

Gutha checked his armour one more time; he didn’t want anything coming loose at an inopportune moment.

‘I doubt there are more than a few of them,’ he told the Arabians. ‘Just keep moving and take out those archers – then we can deal with the rest. Everyone up the slope.’

‘Shit,’ said Bucoli. ‘They do have shields.’

‘I see them,’ said Indavara. ‘Four. No, six.’

By crouching, the advancing men were able to cover all but their boots. The shields were circular; hide and wood with a central boss of bronze.

‘Might be a job for Nobus,’ said Mercator.

‘Agreed.’

The optio got the auxiliary’s attention, pointed at the shield-bearers and mimed a throw. Nobus waved an acknowledgement then moved up to the edge.

The six men had just reached the top of the rise. The first rock missed them. They noticed the splash of dust but continued on, apparently unaware that it had come from above.

Nobus’s second throw did a lot more damage. It hit one of the men on the shoulder, the crack of bone reverberating along the pass. The unfortunate dropped his shield and retreated face contorted by pain.

Gutha ordered a man from the second rank to grab his shield. The injured warrior was told to take his place; he could still wield his sword.

As he approached the rise, Gutha looked up and saw the enemy warrior aiming his next rock. There was absolutely nothing they could do about it; they didn’t have a single bow between them, not that he would have been easy to hit anyway. It was always the little things.

The next rock bounced off a shield but all six had slowed.

‘Forward!’ ordered Gutha.

One of the men pointed along the road and shouted back at him.

‘He’s telling them we’re farther away,’ explained Mercator.

‘We must use the distance,’ said Indavara, detaching the quiver from his belt. ‘Take out as many as we can before they get close.’

Nobus’s fourth throw hit a man on the head. The Arabian lurched into the wall then slumped to the ground, body inert.

From the top of the cliff came a triumphant cry.

But the five remaining men didn’t lose heart. They marched down the slope to the bottom, split into two groups and continued along the edges of the road.

Nobus turned his attention to the second rank. He threw the rocks at a faster rate, forcing the warriors to look up and take evasive action.

Gutha watched him and the mess he was making of his advance. If he got hold of the little shit he would chop his head off. For now, he just had to get the men moving.

‘Second line, get after those shields.’

‘Here they come,’ said Mercator, javelin at the ready.

Ignoring the two shield-men now only sixty feet away and trotting towards his position, Indavara fired at the second rank. The arrow hit a warrior dead centre, rippling his tunic and knocking him off his feet. The men with him paused, now fearful of the bows once more.

Gutha reached the rise and shouted at the hesitant warriors. ‘After the others. Charge!’

Indavara watched them speed up. He put the bow down and drew his blade.

‘Itys, hit the second rank! Mercator, you too. I’m going for the shields.’

Indavara sprang to his feet and bolted towards the pair on his side of the road, who were still keeping their heads down.

Several of the second rank saw him but they were busy avoiding Mercator’s javelin and Itys’s arrows.

Indavara leaped over a cluster of boulders and went for the man to the left. Still covering themselves, the Arabians were caught completely by surprise. Indavara grabbed the top edge of the shield, hauled it down, then swept straight into the warrior’s neck. The blade went in just above the ear. The warrior’s jaw dropped and the rest of him swiftly followed.

The second man had lowered his shield to see what he faced. He got it back up just in time. Sparks flew as Indavara’s blade caught the bronze boss.

With no time to tarry – and his foe again unsighted – Indavara darted forward and swung his right leg. His boot caught the Arabian just above his ankle, sending him tottering backwards.

Indavara took his chance, swinging as soon as he had something to aim at. The blade ripped across the warrior’s forehead as he slammed into the sand, unused sword clattering against his shield.

Having checked that the arrows were still keeping the second rank at bay, Indavara sprinted across the road.

The other three Arabians were only yards from Andal, Pelagius and Itys.

As they suddenly noticed the new threat, one lowered his shield. Itys’s arrow thudded into his face. He teetered on his heels then fell, screaming.

Andal and Pelagius rushed one of the others. The third man was already coming at Indavara in a solid defensive crouch, shield close to him, sword at the ready.

Indavara couldn’t see a quick way of putting him down. Fortunately, he didn’t need it.

Having dropped his bow, Itys flew past the others and stuck his knife into the warrior’s back. Shock froze the Arabian’s face. His legs buckled and he collapsed onto a boulder.