The Far Shore (49 page)

This time Procyon’s boot struck Cassius between his shoulder blades, sending him sprawling face first on to the ground. He lay there at the edge of the pit.

Indavara whipped the belt from the left this time, narrowly missing the lion’s head. The beast roared and Indavara caught a whiff of rotten breath. It sunk its front paws into the ground and lowered its head, ready to leap.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The four arrows embedded themselves in the lion’s flank in quick succession. The animal’s back legs gave way first, then it keeled over on to its side. Clawing at the mud, it let out a weak moan. Indavara watched the pink stomach expand only three times more before it became still. He turned to where the arrows had come from.

So did Cassius, Carnifex and the men of the First Century. They had been so intently focused on the action below that no one had noticed the twenty or so figures now getting to their feet on the ridge separating the pit from the barracks. A deep voice rolled towards them, clear even over the legionaries’ shouts and the drawing of swords.

‘The games are over, Carnifex,’ said Eborius, whose sheer size would have identified him even without the crested helmet. He was flanked by his men, Noster included. At least half were wielding bows and every one was now aimed at the old centurion.

Carnifex took a sour look at the fallen lion but was quick with his reply. ‘Seems to me they’ve just begun.’

Eborius addressed the men: ‘First Century, I don’t want any trouble. I ask only that you hear me out.’

‘Manius,’ replied Carnifex smoothly, ‘let’s discuss this like officers.’

‘No. Your men will know the truth, Carnifex. I don’t want a fight, but be in no doubt. If you try anything, I’ll give the order. One of the bolts will hit you.’

‘And then you’ll all die.’

‘We’ll see. Legionaries, I don’t know what the centurion’s told you, but that man next to him is named Corbulo, and he is an agent of the Imperial Security Service.’

Cassius glanced up again at Carnifex, who was looking less sure of himself by the moment.

Eborius pointed at Indavara. ‘That man is his bodyguard and the girl is the daughter of Augustus Marius Memor, deputy commander of the Service. Carnifex had him assassinated. The four people found dead yesterday were his accomplices and he killed them too, at the quarry last night. I saw it with my own eyes.’

‘You won’t have any eyes when we’re done with you!’ shouted one of Carnifex’s men. There were a few cheers, but only a few. Cassius looked around; some of the legionaries seemed concerned by what they’d heard.

‘How many jugs of wine today, Manius?’ said Carnifex calmly. ‘Your imagination’s running wild.’

Eborius continued: ‘I know some of you won’t care what he’s done, but know this: if they don’t return to their ship, the captain will sail to Egypt and Corbulo’s man will make contact with the Service there. It might take weeks or even months, but Carnifex’s rule will come to an end. All I can offer you is a choice. I know that most of you weren’t party to these crimes. Side with me, and you might still have a future with the army.’

‘Anyone who takes a single step towards that lying son of a bitch will have me to deal with!’ yelled Mutilus.

‘You’ll hang alongside your master, Mutilus,’ replied Eborius. ‘But the rest of you have a way out.’

Some of the legionaries were talking, especially those well away from Carnifex and the optios.

But beyond the low hum of their voices was a distant thrumming Cassius knew well: horses on the move.

Procyon suddenly looked around him, examining the faces of the men. ‘Where’s Sulli?’

Carnifex looked around too.

Cassius glanced up at the ridge. Some of Eborius’s men had turned to the south.

‘Maseene!’ shouted one.

Without waiting for an order, several of them ran back down the ridge, away from the pit and towards the road. Eborius looked south. Despite the distance, Cassius saw his features freeze. The centurion hesitated for a moment, then waved the rest of his men after the others.

‘First, to the mansion!’ ordered Carnifex, his voice steady. He slipped his dagger from its sheath and held it under Cassius’s chin. ‘Up, grain man.’

Cassius got to his feet.

‘And you over here, One Ear!’ added Carnifex. ‘You ain’t going anywhere.’

With a despairing glance at Eborius, Indavara ran back to the edge of the pit, tying his belt on the way. As the rest of the First Century flooded past them, Mutilus and another man reached down and pulled him up.

Carnifex pushed Annia into Procyon’s arms. ‘Those two try anything, slit her throat. All of you, move!’

As he ran, Cassius looked up at the ridge. Eborius had disappeared.

Cassius almost collided with a legionary. In avoiding him, he somehow tripped over his own feet but a steadying hand grabbed his arm. Indavara came up beside him as they bolted along the side of the barracks.

Despite the weight of their shields and armour, the quickest of Carnifex’s men were already crossing the road. Suddenly, the mansion gate swung shut in front of them. Cassius saw the long-haired Sulli lock it, then hold up the key, mocking the legionaries as he withdrew. He escaped through the grounds, accompanied by some of the male servants.

The thunder of the horses seemed to envelop the trapped Romans, echoing off the walls of the mansion and barracks. Hundreds of Maseene surged up from the plain, their ranks spread far beyond the width of the road. Their unsaddled mounts were small and lithe, galloping across the ground at tremendous speed. Most of the barefoot warriors had circular shields strapped to their right arms and daggers on their left wrists. They hunched forward on their mounts, one hand on their reins, one gripping their javelins, long black hair streaming out behind them.

As he and Indavara passed the end of the barracks, Cassius found himself in the middle of Carnifex’s men. Some were still trying to force the gate open, while others looked around desperately for another way out. Cassius was surprised to see Eborius’s men retreating south along the road towards them. Beyond were dozens more Maseene, urging their horses forward at a trot, corralling the Romans towards the main force.

Cassius listened in to Carnifex.

‘Trying to run us down while we’re strung out. They won’t be half so keen on a stand-up fight.’

Cassius felt a hand grip his tunic and pull him to a halt. Mutilus took hold of Indavara, sword already drawn.

‘Barracks?’ said Procyon.

‘Too late for that,’ replied Carnifex as he stopped in the middle of the road.

‘First!’ he bellowed. ‘Gather here!’

Even the legionaries pressed up against the gate instantly ran back to the centurion. Carnifex grabbed the nearest man, turned him towards the advancing tribesmen and slammed his shield into the ground. ‘Form the line here between the mansion wall and the barracks.’

He then looked north up the road, seemingly unconcerned about Eborius and his men. ‘A third of you take ten paces that way and do the same there. Go!’

Carnifex turned to Mutilus and pointed at the wall. ‘Dump those two there. Procyon, keep that girl close.’

Mutilus waited for the soldiers to pass, then pushed Cassius and Indavara across the road.

The first row of men in Carnifex’s southern rank planted their shields and shuffled sideways to form an even line. Despite the onrushing Maseene, they moved calmly and efficiently and communicated with quiet words and gestures. One last legionary nipped between the end of the shield wall and the mansion wall, then the gap was closed.

‘Interlock!’ ordered Carnifex. ‘Anyone with a spear, get it over the top and ready.’

Carnifex pulled on his helmet as he stalked up the road across the ten-yard square formed by the two lines of troops and the walls of the mansion and barracks.

Eborius’s retreating men were now mixed in with those of the First Century. One man took exception to this, pushing a legionary from the Second Century away with his shield, but Eborius aimed his sword at the aggressor. ‘You got a problem, you can settle it with me when this is done.’

‘Couldn’t have said it better myself,’ interjected Carnifex. ‘Take command of your line, Centurion. Let’s see if you really have finally grown a pair of balls.’

Eborius snatched another look at the advancing tribesmen and gave a grim nod.

‘Oh, and watch your back,’ added Carnifex.

‘Anyone with a bow, second rank,’ ordered Eborius. ‘Everyone else behind a shield.’

Procyon crouched down with Annia, close to the southern line. Mutilus coaxed Cassius and Indavara further to the right and shoved them down on the ground by the mansion wall.

‘Remember who’s got your girlfriend,’ he said, pointing at Procyon. When he saw they were watching, the other optio tapped his dagger blade against Annia’s cheek. Mutilus hurried back to join Carnifex.

Cassius got up on his knees and watched as the Maseene on both sides slowed their mounts. With the Romans spread out and disorganised they would easily have held the advantage, but Carnifex had taken only a few moments to give Darnis’s divided garrison a fighting chance. Eborius had fewer men on his side, fifty at the most, but he faced the lesser force – no more than a hundred.

Cassius put a hand on Indavara’s shoulder. ‘Fortuna must be on your side. Surely not even you could kill a lion with a belt buckle.’

Instead of replying, Indavara grabbed Cassius’s tunic and dragged him back against the wall. A long javelin landed in the muddy ground where Cassius’s legs had been.

‘Gods. Thanks.’

The weapon’s shaft was still wobbling when Indavara pulled it out. He looked along the wall but Procyon had already seen him. The optio shook his head like a parent admonishing a child. Indavara threw the javelin away. ‘We have to get her away from him.’

Two more javelins landed close by. Another struck the wall above them and fell harmlessly into Cassius’s lap. He put it down by his side where Procyon couldn’t see it. The Maseene weapons were different to the army’s shorter, metal javelins; the shaft was wood, and they were as tall as a man, with a broad-bladed iron head.

Soon dozens of the javelins were raining down on the Romans. Most of them thudded into the hide covers and planking of the shields, but a few found their way through. Two cries went up from the northern line and one legionary without a helmet staggered backwards, hand gripping his face. Cassius squeezed back against the wall and followed Indavara’s example, bowing his head and covering it with his arms.

‘Second rank!’ shouted Carnifex, now crouching behind his men. ‘Turn and put your shields up. Now they’ll hit us in the back.’

Having made little impact on the first rank, the Maseene lengthened their range precisely as Carnifex had predicted. There were far fewer shields on Eborius’s side and three men at the rear were struck immediately.

One unfortunate fell just yards from Cassius. The javelin had somehow found its way through the panels of his plate armour and into his flank. Lying on his side, he bit down so hard that his teeth sank deep into his bottom lip.

Javelins now littered the section of road between the Roman lines.

‘Steady there, lads,’ shouted Carnifex as he buckled his chinstrap. ‘There won’t be many more. They usually carry three to a man and they’ll keep one in hand for later.’

Moments later, the hail of javelins petered out.

‘Coming forward, sir!’ another man told the centurion. ‘Still on horseback.’

‘I can hear that. Don’t fret – those desert nags’ll start getting nervous soon.’

Carnifex checked on the situation to the north, where the horsemen were also closing in. The legionaries on both sides were virtually silent. Maseene voices yelled what sounded like a mixture of instruction and encouragement.

‘Still coming forward, sir,’ said Mutilus. ‘Hundred feet.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Carnifex. He pulled a man out of the line and ordered him to collect up some of the javelins.

‘Dismounting, sir,’ said Mutilus.

‘Archers to the north,’ shouted Carnifex. ‘Wait until they’re good and close.’

Eborius – keeping his big frame hidden behind two shields – turned and looked at Carnifex. The old centurion gave him a wolfish grin.

Cassius and Indavara got up on their knees again. The Maseene were forming a dense attacking line, leaving perhaps a fifth of their number at the rear to take charge of the mounts. At a shouted signal the tribesmen on both sides jabbed their javelins into the air three times. At a second shout they unleashed a long, piercing war cry. Their march towards the Romans became a run.

‘You got a spear or a sword, protect your shield-man,’ ordered Carnifex.

Closer to Cassius and Indavara, Noster drew his bow and aimed it over the crouching men who formed the first line. ‘Sir?’

‘Wait.’

Eborius watched the advancing warriors, his dark face slick with sweat beneath his helmet.

‘Sir?’ repeated Noster.

When Eborius’s order finally came, it was a full-blooded shout. ‘Loose!’

Twenty bowstrings snapped tight and as many screams went up from the Maseene line. Noster and the others reached for their next arrow.

‘Keep those shields together!’ ordered Carnifex, making adjustments where the row of legionaries curved slightly to join up with the corner of the barracks.

The Maseene slowed as they reached the shield walls. Though some had swords strapped to their belts or the little daggers ready at their forearms, almost all attacked with javelins, jabbing over the tops of the shields. The legionaries behind them stayed low, solely occupied with keeping the barrier in place. The second rank did as Carnifex had instructed, hacking at any well-aimed javelins with their swords.

Despite the numbing din of grunts and shouts and the clash of metal and wood, Cassius saw that the southern line was swiftly settling into a stalemate. The outnumbered Romans couldn’t advance but the lightly armed Maseene couldn’t break through Carnifex’s immaculate line. The two sides would keep at each other until fatigue set in or a breach was made.

Eborius’s men were faring better. With a smaller force attacking them – and no more thrown javelins to worry about – the archers were able to pick their targets. Without a single piece of armour between them, Maseene were falling one after the other.