The Bones of the Earth (The Dark Age) (31 page)

“
But Belisarius had re-conquered so much of the Western lands that had been lost to the barbarians. I committed the sin of hubris, Janus. I thought, I dreamed of driving the barbarians back and re-establishing ancient Roman Dacia. I dreamed of a … a renaissance of the Empire. I dreamed—fool that I am—that…”

“
With 500 men?”

“
I dreamed that by pushing into this area and succeeding, I would be given more troops, that my example would lead others to join in the drive to reclaim civilization in all the Roman lands. I dreamed that news of my success would reach the Emperor’s ears.

“
I failed. It was a vain hope, I see that now. It was a fantasy I concocted to glorify my own fate. It brought me to this accursed land. I was wounded in my first foray here. And I have wasted the last year in my pain and vanity.” He sighed again.

The legate’s confession inspired Javor. “I’ve been on a mission like this before,” he said, and at Valgus’ encouragement told him about his parents’ murder. “It was by a—well, you’ll probably laugh, but then, you’ve faced a dragon, so—it was a monster. I don’t know what else to call it. Man-shaped, but much bigger. Like two men. It killed people in my village, including my parents, and I killed it with my great-grandfather’s dagger.” He didn’t tell him about the amulet, though.

“
That long, wonderful knife you carry? The one weapon that can pierce a dragon’s hide?”

“
Yes. My great-grandfather was in the Emperor’s army, in the Persian wars. He brought the dagger back from the Caucasus. That’s what my mother said, anyway. So I went looking for it. Photius came with me.”

“
Has he known you long, then?”

“
No, he showed up just before the monster…”

“
Has that never struck you as suspiciously coincidental?” Javor’s Greek was not sophisticated enough to understand that question, so Valgus asked what happened.

“
Well, we climbed up a mountain, kind of like we’re doing now, and we found a cave. And inside we surprised the monster. It grabbed me but my knife killed it.”

Valgus looked closely at Javor, and he had the feeling the Legate knew that he was leaving something very important out of the story. “That’s where I got the armour and helmet and … some other things.” Valgus nodded.

“
Treasure, I suppose?”

“
Oh, yes, the cave was full of jewels and coins. We took some, Photius and I. But we didn’t have time to take much. The cave collapsed and we barely got out of it. Then my people told me to leave the village. They thought I was dangerous.”

“
You are, Janus. You are a very dangerous man. And a very valuable one.”

The Legate’s words sent a thrill through Javor. He couldn’t help smiling. He replayed those words in his head for some time as the horses’ hooves clopped on the soil. The horse in front of them chose that moment to defecate, and Javor’s horse stepped in the shit.

Javor made up his mind. “Legate Valgus? One other thing. My name is not Janus. It’s Javor.”

The Legate smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t have a Roman name. Very well, Javor. It’s a pleasure to meet the real man.”

The clouds were even lower and darker than the day before. Behind the mountains, lightning flickered inside the clouds and thunder rumbled over the rocks.

The mountains swept in a great curve from the southwest to the northeast. Surprisingly gentle, forest-covered slopes suddenly reared straight up as sheer grey rocky cliffs, their tops like jagged, broken grey teeth. Javor could barely tell the difference between the sky and the mountain.

They followed a deer-path into a flat area strewn with boulders. On their right, a rocky slope fell away to a breath-taking view of rivers and hills and the wide plain to the south; on their left, the forest opened into a wide meadow of high grass and prickly weeds until the forest took over again and climbed the steep sides of the mountain, ending at the sudden, sheer grey cliffs.

Javor felt his amulet trembling. Shouts came from the rear of the column, then screams. All eyes turned back, and Meridius charged to the rear, yelling a battle-cry, spear lowered in front of him, his horse’s hooves thundering. Javor kicked his horse into action to follow.
How do I get this horse to go where I want?
But the horse seemed to know.

He could see the last two horses in the column were riderless; beyond them, high yellow grass waved and parted and he could see flashes of red and silver. Meridius charged into the grass, reined in his horse and jumped off in one fluid motion. Yelling, he launched his spear, but it dug into the ground impotently beside the twisting, struggling, squirming body of a legionnaire as he was dragged to the tree line. Meridius drew his sword and ran forward, slashing at the ground beside one of the legionnaires.

Javor’s horse reached the clearing and skidded to a stop, and Javor flew forward, falling to the ground flat on his face. He heard himself make a “whoof” sound and his chest felt crushed. He struggled to draw in a breath and managed to stand up. Panting, he drew his dagger and ran toward Meridius just in time to see the downed legionnaire disappear into the trees. All at once, the screaming stopped, and the amulet stopped shaking. The legionnaires, and whatever had dragged them away, had disappeared into the trees. Javor peered into them, but the shadows were thick, impenetrable. No sound came from the dark forest, not the smallest bird’s chirp.

The field was suddenly crowded with horses and shouting men. Legionnaires jumped from their mounts and swept the grass with their swords. Three started hacking at the trees. “Hold!” Meridius shouted.

Valgus came up on his beautiful white horse. “Stop. They’re gone. There is no use sending live men after the dead. Regroup!” The legionnaires obeyed, but they, and Javor, kept looking into the trees for their fellows. Several had tears on their faces.

They clustered closer together, now, as they continued on the deer-track. Meridius rode up and down the column, keeping the men close together. The legionnaires tried to look in all directions at once, sweat on their brows. Several crossed themselves.

The open field ended and the column moved into the forest; the trees closed around them on both sides. Javor’s amulet started to vibrate again. Meridius now had to stay in the middle of the column, almost sitting backward to keep an eye on his men.

But when he looked forward, sharp eyes looking as deeply as possible into the forest, they all heard a choked cry. Javor turned in time to see the rear-most legionnaire fall off his horse.

Meridius tried to turn his horse. The rear legionnaire screamed and they all saw his body being pulled into the forest, but they couldn’t see what was taking him. The soldiers just in front of him shouted and drew their swords, but it was too late. Meridius arrived, dismounted and stooped to peer into the forest, then shook his head. He ordered the men back into their saddles and pushed his way slowly to the front of the column.

“
Aculeo is gone, now. That’s three, unopposed,” he reported.

Valgus nodded. “Let’s keep moving.”

But they had barely started to move when it happened again: a strangled cry, the clash of falling armour, thrashing of a body being pulled into the forest to disappear. “Celsus!” the second-rear-most man called, but it was no use.

Now the men at the rear tried to crowd forward, terrified to be the last man in the column. They drew swords and brandished spears, casting their eyes back and forth as they rode forward as quickly as they could safely.

Photius dismounted and walked to the back of the column, his staff glowing white at the tip. He stood behind the last horse, spread his arms wide and chanted in a loud voice. At his spell’s climax, white light flashed from his staff, spreading over the last six men and their mounts and to the trees. But the spell didn’t penetrate the cover of the forest. And Javor’s amulet did not stop vibrating.

“
Thank you,” said Valgus as Photius remounted. They continued in double-file.

Javor was just beginning to breathe a little more easily despite the continuous shaking of his amulet when they heard two more screams in quick succession. Javor spun and saw two empty saddles right in the middle of the column: two partners, riding side-by-side, had each been dragged on opposite sides of the forest. Their screams were cut off suddenly.

Valgus opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the standard-bearer beside him was pulled from his saddle without uttering a sound. The standard clattered to the ground and Valgus vaulted from his own saddle. “Catullus!” He slashed at something no one else could see, and Catullus fell limply to the ground. Valgus jumped to the edge of the trees and would have gone into them, but Photius grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Valgus looked all around, furious, then sheathed his sword and flung Catullus’ body over his horse.
How strong is he?

In one motion, Valgus picked up the fallen standard, jumped on his own horse and yelled “Ride! Legion, forward!” He kneed his stallion and the animal leaped forward into a full gallop.

Together, the column raced along the path. Javor clung to his horse’s mane as tightly as he could, but as mud and water sprayed onto his face he felt himself slipping sideways until a strong arm pulled him upright: Antonio again.

Three times, they heard screams; three times, legionnaires at random points in the column fell to the side. But the column dared not break stride and flew along the path. Horses stumbled, but righted themselves. Men gripped their saddle horns and prayed for salvation. Javor heard nothing but thundering hooves and jangling steel, and the amulet was vibrating so hard it felt like it was on fire.

Up ahead, he could see light as the path came to some kind of clearing, but at that moment, something cold and damp clutched around his neck and yanked him from the saddle. He fell to the ground in a tangle of leather and steel, landing hard on his side. From the side he could see a blur of horses’ and men’s legs and flashes of steel. The wet grip around his neck tightened, but he couldn’t see what it was. He groped for his sword or knife or
something
.

Then there was a blur as something else landed on the ground. It grunted, yelled, and moved, and Javor realized it was Antonio. He had thrown himself from his horse when he saw Javor topple. He landed on his feet with his short sword drawn and stabbed at something shadowy. The pressure on Javor’s neck ceased and the two men heard something rustle into the underbrush.

Javor scrambled to his feet and fumbled for his dagger. “Did you see it?”

“
No. Just a shadow. It’s gone, now.” The legionnaire put his hand behind Javor’s shoulders and pushed him to the deer-path. “Let’s go before it comes back!” They ran for the clearing at the end of the path. Javor ran as fast as he thought he could with the weight of armour and weapons, but the shorter legionnaire was running faster, so he stretched his stride and willed his feet to move faster.

Is there something behind me?
He daren’t look but drew past the legionnaire, who spurred himself on and caught up just as they burst into a clearing. The rest of the troop had formed a protective circle of armoured men and horses, face-guards down and spears up. Two horses parted and Javor and Antonio entered the ring, momentarily safe.

There were forty legionnaires left; inside the ring were Valgus and Photius, still on their mounts, Valgus still holding the Legion’s standard, as well as seven empty horses. Crouching on the ground were Zdravko and Volos.

Antonio jumped back astride his horse and took a position in the ring. Javor recognized his own mount and pulled himself awkwardly into the saddle, then loosened his sword and looked around.

This was no natural clearing; it was a flattish spot on the mountain side where nothing had lived for a very, very long time. Where the trees stopped, the branches that stretched into the clearing looked sickly. Bare rock, creased and blackened, stretched to the sheer cliffs. There was not a blade of grass nor the greyest piece of lichen or moss—just bare rock, cracked, fading to a scree of pebbles that fell down to a lost river. The troop had paused for breath on a wide, grey rock, divided by deep cracks and strewn with boulders. Above, the sky was even darker. Javor could see heavy black clouds moving and roiling. A dry wind scoured their faces with dust, carrying an odour of ash and something sour. Thunder rumbled so deep Javor felt it more than heard it. It seemed almost to be coming up from the ground.