The Far Shore (45 page)

‘Who says I have to kill you? Maybe I’ll just cut out your tongue – see how you like it.’

‘Head forward,’ Cassius repeated. Still grinning at Indavara, Carnifex finally complied. Cassius bent over him and placed the strip of material in his mouth.

The centurion managed a final taunt. ‘Be easier if your hands weren’t shaking.’

Cassius pulled the gag tight and tied it off. Indavara sheathed his blade, reclaimed the stave and stood over Carnifex.

Cassius followed Eborius outside. ‘What’ll you do once you’ve got rid of the cart?’

‘Get back to the barracks. Needs to look like a normal night when the men of the Second turn up – which might be fairly soon. I’ll be back before dawn.’

The very mention of the word reminded Cassius just how interminable the night would be. Twelve hours. And at this time of the year – when almost three-fifths of the day was spent in darkness – they were long hours.

Eborius gripped Cassius’s arm. ‘Corbulo. Watch him. Every single moment.’

‘I think he’s asleep,’ whispered Indavara. ‘Either that or he’s choked on the gag.’

Cassius took three steps across the hut and peered at the slumped shape next to the lamp. He could just about make out Carnifex’s chest moving up and down. He walked back to Indavara. ‘No. He’s still breathing.’

‘Pity.’

‘What do you think? Two hours gone? Seems like an eternity already.’

Indavara didn’t reply. Cassius knew that he sometimes struggled to keep track of time, which – on occasions like this – seemed almost a skill. Cassius had also noted his remarkable powers of concentration – he could easily spend three or four hours on a single task, a consequence of his training perhaps. It didn’t hurt, of course, if one lacked the intellect to consider wider matters or the grand scheme of things.

Cassius could seldom avoid doing so. His mind had a tendency to wander and he constantly had to remind himself to stay alert, focus on the job in hand. But as he stared at the dark shape on the other side of the hut, he felt his eyelids getting heavier by the moment. He and Indavara had been checking outside at regular intervals, so he decided to take his turn.

‘Won’t be a moment.’

The chill wind woke him up soon enough. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and looked west along the shore. He thought of those black kites from the gorge; imagined them flying high past beaches and coves and cliffs before finally reaching the harbour at Apollonia and the sprawl of Cyrene. Fifty miles – they might be there in two days.

It wasn’t until he turned east towards the town that he saw the torches. Some were close to the warehouses but another group were moving along the breakwater towards the
Fortuna
. Cassius had expected as much. But who were they? Men of the First Century or the Second? They’d find no trace of Carnifex on the ship, but what if they realised Cassius and Indavara weren’t aboard?

There was, however, a more pressing concern: the group in the harbour had split in two, one heading east, the other heading west along the shore path.

‘Shit.’

Keeping his eyes fixed on Carnifex, Indavara backed up to the door.

‘What is it?’

‘Looks like a search party. Coming our way.’

‘Here. Swap.’

As Cassius took his turn to guard the sleeping centurion, more questions assailed him. Would the legionaries remember the hut? Would they see it from the path?

All they could do was wait. Every few moments Cassius would stick his head out of the door to see how much closer the torches were. At one point he heard – or imagined he heard – Carnifex say something. He walked over to the lamp and looked down; the centurion was asleep but mumbling into the gag.

‘They’re coming off the path, straight towards us,’ said Indavara.

Cassius retreated to the doorway. ‘All of them?’

‘No. Some are continuing along the shore. One torch. Looks like two men.’

Cassius felt a tap on his arm.

‘Hold this.’ Indavara offered him the stave. ‘If he stirs, hit him again.’

Sliding his blade out of its scabbard, Indavara continued: ‘What do I do if they’re Carnifex’s men?’

Cassius took the stave. ‘Whatever you have to.’

Now he could hear the soldiers’ boots striking pebbles as they strode across the sand. He snatched a glimpse of the shadowy figures below the torch. They were no more than five yards away when one of them spoke.

‘It’s Noster. We’re coming in. Stay out of sight.’

Indavara hurried inside and stood by Cassius, who wiped sweat away from above his mouth.

Noster walked in, the sizzling torch in his hand. The second soldier was another of the men who’d been at the quarry. They spied Carnifex in the corner and stared at him. The centurion’s eyes opened. He squinted up at the torch, then grunted as he struggled to free himself, teeth bared over the gag.

Indavara moved closer to him and waved his sword in Carnifex’s face.

‘Calm yourself, old man.’

‘Some of the First Century are with us,’ explained Noster, still unable to take his eyes off Carnifex. ‘We volunteered to check in here – all part of the show.’

‘What about the ship?’

‘Don’t worry. Eborius and some men from the First. Bunch of idiots – they don’t even know who was on there to start with, let alone who might be missing.’ Noster grinned, his uneven teeth lit red by the flames. ‘Procyon and Mutilus aren’t coping well. They’re panicking.’

‘You should go,’ said Cassius.

‘Good luck, sir,’ replied Noster.

He pushed the other man out of the door and they set off for the shore path at a run.

Indavara let out a long breath as he sheathed his blade. Cassius returned his stave and glanced over at Carnifex. The centurion’s head was between his knees. He looked like a beaten man.

Once the soldiers’ torches were gone, the only remaining lights were the lanterns aboard the
Fortuna
. When it was his turn to be outside, Cassius would gaze at them and occupy himself by imagining each person aboard. He left Clara until last and devoted at least an hour to various possible scenarios they might enjoy together. He was surprised to be able to think of such things, but the mind-numbing boredom and sapping tension of their night-long vigil demanded the occasional distraction. Apart from a few shouts from the town, all they heard was the gentle lapping of the sea and the occasional snore from Carnifex. Remarkably, the centurion slept on until dawn, only waking when Eborius returned.

‘All clear?’ asked Cassius.

‘Not quite,’ replied Eborius, who looked as weary and unkempt as Cassius felt. ‘There are still a few of the First Century hanging around. I’ll try and keep them out of your way. Give it half an hour, then make your move.’

‘What’s happening? Noster said Procyon and Mutilus are panicking.’

Eborius came further inside the hut. ‘With good cause. Two of their search parties ran into Maseene during the night. They’ve four dead, twice that wounded.’

He stared at Carnifex. ‘The soldiers are starting to think he’s dead too. And some of the Roman townspeople are talking about leaving. If you don’t go soon they’ll be piling onto the
Fortuna
.’

‘What will you do?’

Eborius pressed a knuckle against his brow. ‘If Procyon and Mutilus will listen to me, I’ll withdraw the First Century to the town, then try and find someone to act as an intermediary. See if we can negotiate, restore some sort of order, some sort of peace.’

‘You can do it. I’m sure of it. And once I’ve contacted the governor in Cyrene you’ll get some help.’

Eborius didn’t look convinced. ‘I have to go.’

‘My thanks for all you’ve done,’ said Cassius as they gripped forearms.

‘Farewell,’ said Eborius to Indavara.

‘Farewell.’

Carnifex strained at the ropes, bulging eyes locked on the younger centurion. Eborius took one last look at him, then loped back to the shore path where he’d left his horse. Carnifex slumped back against the wall and stamped down hard on the floor. Indavara kicked over the oil lamp and joined Cassius at the doorway. They watched Eborius hoist himself on to his mount, then set off at a gallop towards the causeway.

‘Is this him?’

It took a moment for Cassius to register that he’d heard Annia’s voice.

Indavara turned first. ‘Get away from him!’

Cassius spun round. She was just inside the other door, standing over Carnifex.

The centurion twisted and swept his right boot into her, knocking both her legs away. She cried out as she landed on the ground beside him.

Indavara charged across the hut, ready to swing the stave at Carnifex. He halted with the weapon a yard from the centurion’s face. Cassius stopped too.

Carnifex’s right boot was hovering just above Annia’s neck. The front two hobnails on the sole were unusually long and had been sharpened to a lethal point. Winded by the fall, Annia coughed and spluttered as she stared up at the spikes. Carnifex nodded towards the doorway.

Indavara lowered the stave. He and Cassius retreated.

Carnifex put his left boot on Annia’s jaw, pressing her face into the floor. She was whimpering, spittle running down her chin. Careful to keep both boots in position, Carnifex bent his head towards her and moved his mouth.

Cassius had seen the look on Annia’s face before: on sacrificial animals before the priest’s blade slit their throat.

‘You hurt her, I will knock your head off,’ Indavara told Carnifex, who moved his mouth again and nodded at Annia.

‘Annia,’ said Cassius gently. ‘Annia, look at me.’

She did so, though her hair half covered her eyes.

‘He wants you to take the gag out of his mouth. His hands are tied; he can’t do it himself. Can you pull the gag down?’

Carnifex kept his eyes on Indavara but bent his head closer to Annia. She managed to reach up with her left hand.

‘That’s it,’ said Cassius.

Annia gripped the top of the gag and pulled it out of Carnifex’s mouth. He sucked in three deep, rasping breaths before speaking. ‘You two do anything I don’t like and I’m going to make a big hole in that little neck. Weapons on the ground, One Ear. Back to the door.’

Indavara stayed where he was.

Carnifex pushed his left boot down on Annia, distorting the lines of her face.

‘You son of a bitch!’ snarled Indavara.

Cassius grabbed him by the arm and hauled him backwards. ‘What’s wrong with you? Do as he says.’

Indavara’s face was flushed, his muscles tense. He put down his stave.

‘Blades too,’ said Carnifex.

Indavara threw his dagger to the floor, then pulled his sword belt off and dropped it. He withdrew to the doorway.

‘Sword next to One Ear’s,’ Carnifex told Cassius. ‘Then take out your knife and throw it over here close to my hands.’

Cassius complied. The dagger clattered on to the floor but Carnifex left it where it was, instead pushing a section of the reed matting aside. He then reached down and shifted a couple of the bricks below. When he was satisfied with the arrangement he picked up the dagger handle and jammed it between the two bricks. Then he began to move the ropes tying his wrists up and down the blade.

‘You boys were doing all right, but I reckon you didn’t count on Beautiful here. Who is she?’

Cassius said nothing. Indavara shifted his feet.

‘Don’t even think about it, One Ear,’ said Carnifex, still working the ropes along the blade. ‘Might not kill her straight off, my special studs, but I don’t reckon you’ll stop her bleeding. Ask yourself – you really want to see that?’

Carnifex was by now through enough of the ropes to free himself. He picked up the dagger, sliced through the gag, then pulled it away. With a smug grin, he shook off the last of the rope.

‘How you feeling there, Beautiful?’

Annia was coughing. Carnifex put the blade to her throat and encircled her neck with his other hand. He pulled her up off the floor with him, his eyes not once leaving Indavara.

‘What’s the name?’

Annia’s whole head was shaking, her unblinking eyes unnaturally wide.

Carnifex pressed the metal into her skin. ‘Come on now, don’t be shy.’

‘A-A-Annia. Annia Augusta Memorus.’

‘Memorus, eh? Well, well. Looks like you know these two, but let’s complete the introductions. I’m Valgus Carnifex. And yes – I’m him. The one who had your father killed. But don’t take it personal. I’m sure it won’t stop us getting along fine.’

Carnifex pushed Annia in front of him, locking his knife hand around her neck. ‘Time for a little walk, boys, and I reckon we best stay away from your mates on that ship. You know the route – we did it yesterday. You first, Streak. One Ear next. And best do as you’re told – there’s plenty I can cut before I get to her throat.’

As Cassius walked out of the hut towards the path, he heard Carnifex pick up a sword up from the floor. He glanced over at the harbour. Eborius was long gone and there was no sign of anyone on the deck of the
Fortuna
.

‘Eyes front, Streak,’ snapped Carnifex.

After that, all Cassius heard from behind him was Annia, quietly weeping.