The Sword of Revenge (15 page)

There was a slight scuffling sound, then a gasp as though one of the men was in pain and Toger’s voice, never gentle, was truly threatening now.
‘You mind what you say, you bastard.’

The voice that replied had a strangled quality. ‘I was only trying to tell you.’

‘You don’t tell me anything, Charro. I tell you. Understand!’

The third voice had a note of fear. ‘No more killing, Toger.’

‘You going soft, Dedon?’

‘Sense. We’ve already done murder on this road, if we do another a magistrate would need to be as thick as pea soup not to make the connection. We can’t leave bodies all the way from Rome to Sicily.’

Toger’s voice was angry. ‘What are you suggestin’, that we go dry of wine and women for the whole journey?’

‘No, but if we can’t steal without bloodshed, it’s best left. An’ I can’t see how we can rob a farmhouse without hurting someone. It was a daft idea.’

‘What if I was to say this farmer had a pair of prime daughters.’

‘You can keep that as your wishful thinkin’, Toger. I say we wait until we’re stopped in another town.’

‘I’m as dry as a Vestal’s tit, an’ I need a woman.’

‘I’ve never known you not to, mate. Why don’t we ask Flaccus for an advance on our wages?’

Toger’s voice became angry again. ‘I’ll not crawl to that sod.’

‘Like it or not, Toger, he’s the boss now.’

Another strangled gasp accompanied Toger’s reply. ‘Maybe we’ll see about that, one day. Maybe he’ll order me about once too often.’

‘Then don’t turn your back, mate,’ growled the third man. ‘Without him there’ll be no food or drink, let alone women.’

Toger snorted. ‘What? One of you lot try to kill me? That’ll be the day.’

‘Well, I say this is never going to work. We’ve either got to go in there and kill everyone, including the dogs, or give up and go back to the post-house.’

‘I vote we leave it.’

‘An’ I say we go in,’ growled Toger.

For the first time Dedon’s voice matched that of Toger in determination. ‘Then you’ll be doin’ it on your own.’

Aquila heard the sound of a sword being dragged across a rock, a sound that had the dogs barking furiously again, and this time it was loud enough for a faraway door to open.

‘What d’you do that for?’ snarled Toger.

‘Just to help you make up your mind, mate.’

A stream of curses followed, accompanied by the scrabbling sound as they stood up to leave. Aquila was up and away before the three men had turned round, running fast in the moonlight to put as much distance between them as he could. He took the same route home, arriving at the back of the post-house,
unobserved by the men searching the road for some sign of their returning companions. He shoved Minca in the stable and went to find Flaccus, breathlessly explaining everything he had heard. The centurion looked thoughtful and questioned him about the talk of bloodshed, but Aquila could tell him no more than he already knew.

‘Well you earned your bed and board, lad.’ He pointed to the table. ‘Help yourself to some food.’ Having not eaten properly for days, Aquila was ravenous. He stuffed bread and cheese into his mouth and helped himself to a mixture of wine and water. ‘You can bed down with the others in the bunkhouse.’

‘Minca?’ asked Aquila, through a mouthful of food.

‘Can stay in the stable,’ snapped Flaccus. ‘And make sure you tie him up!’

The dormitory was full of sleeping travellers. The mercenaries, including Toger, sat outside, talking quietly, falling silent whenever anyone approached. The centurion had paid for Aquila’s cot, plus the right to use the pump, and he took advantage of this privilege to launder his smock and his small clothes, all caked with dust from his days on the road. He stripped off everything, including his amulet, gently stroking the eagle as he pumped
water into the stone trough, thinking of the dead Fulmina and Clodius, recalling happier times with the latter, when, as a toddler, they had swum together, engaged in mock fights, and the sadness of his departure.

Washing quickly, sluicing water everywhere, he threw his clothes into the now murky water, rubbing them vigorously. He was wringing the excess water out of his smock when, sensing that he was being watched, he turned round. Toger was standing in the doorway, with what passed for a smile on his brutal, ugly face. His piggy eyes dropped to Aquila’s groin and the smile widened.

‘Why you’re a man already,’ he wheezed. A finger flicked to indicate the hairs that sprouted between the boy’s legs. ‘Though I think you’ve got a way to go yet.’

He rubbed his hand over his groin. ‘Like to see what a real man’s got?’

Aquila put his smock on quickly, even though it was soaking, determined to cover his nakedness. He shivered as the damp cold cloth touched his skin, then reached out for his amulet.

‘Let’s have a look at that,’ snapped the squat mercenary.

The boy looked at him defiantly, lacing the amulet onto his upper arm as he did so. Toger’s face took on its habitual angry look and he lumbered over to the trough. Aquila tried to walk past him,
but the older man put a hand on his chest and pushed him till his back was against the hard stone, his face close, his stinking breath making the boy turn away.

‘When I tell you to do something, boy, you do it, ’cause if you don’t I can be real nasty.’ Aquila saw the lips part in an attempt at a smile and he felt the hand reach up to fondle his groin. ‘Mind, I can be nice too. Strikes me you might need some looking after, you being as young as you are. Might be that a few of the lads’ll take a fancy to you. They don’t much care where they stick it, as long as it’s warm.’

Toger’s belly was now pressed against Aquila. The mercenary’s free hand flicked his golden hair, then he reached down and fingered the raised eagle of the amulet. ‘Nice that. Look good on me. I might decide to help myself one day. That is, unless you happen to be my friend. What do you say, boy?’

Aquila didn’t answer, nor could he look the older man in the eye, and only the sound of voices heading towards the pump room saved him from the need to reply. Toger pushed him violently out of the way, dipped his hands into the water and fetched out Aquila’s small clothes, still in the water, then he threw them at the boy’s head just as the other mercenaries entered.

‘Don’t want to leave them lying around, do we boy? Might get someone excited.’

Everyone saw the object thrown and caught and,
once identified, it caused them some merriment. They might have wondered why the boy did not join in their ribald by-play, but Aquila suspected they probably knew.

The hand was over his mouth before he was fully awake and he felt the cot sag as the weight landed beside him. Toger’s voice whispered in his ear as he forced his head down till his mouth was pressed against the straw of the mattress. ‘Make a sound and I’ll break your neck.’

Aquila struggled silently, his head turning from side to side. He could feel Toger stabbing his prick at him, trying to enter as he pulled the muscles of his buttocks tighter and heard the older man curse. Then the mercenary pushed his face into the cot, trying to force Aquila to lie face down. He fought hard but the man was all muscle. He crossed his legs and forced his knees together as Toger rolled on top of him. The mercenary had given up trying to coerce him, instead he placed himself so that his penis was trapped between Aquila’s buttocks and his own belly. The boy felt him start to move, felt the hardness of his erection pushing into the small of his back. Toger was moving faster and faster, his breathing increasing as well till the spurt of hot fluid shot up Aquila’s spine.

The mercenary stopped moving and pushed his mouth close to the boy’s ear. ‘I’ll have you, mark it,’
he whispered. ‘And in time you’ll be willing. I’d take you now excepting you’d wake the whole place, but I’ll get you alone.’ Aquila thought he heard him snigger. ‘And the more you fight, lad, the better I’ll like it.’

The hand was off his mouth now. Aquila spoke softly himself, not sure why. ‘No you won’t. I’ll sleep with my dog from now on.’

Toger just laughed, using one hand to push the boy’s head back into the straw of his pallaise while the other hand fumbled with the leather thong that held the amulet, untying it. It wasn’t easy, but finally he managed to loosen it, then he bent forward to whisper in Aquila’s ear again.

‘If you want this back, boy, there’s one sure way to get it. Just put those pretty lips of yours to work and as for the dog, don’t put too much store by that, ’cause old Toger, he don’t take no chances. I’ve dealt with dogs all my life. If you take a look in the barn, you’ll see what I mean.’

The cot creaked as he stood up. Aquila spun round and saw him walk boldly back to his own cot at the end of the room. None of the other men had woken, or if they did, had not considered it their concern. He shoved his hand in his mouth to hold back the tears and stood up quickly, rushing to the trough to wash off Toger’s filth. Clean, he made his way to the barn, wanting Minca’s company, the warmth of something he could trust.

Toger had used the rope with which Aquila had tied up Gadoric’s dog, and by sheer strength he had strangled it, leaving the great black body hanging from a rafter in the barn. Aquila sank to his knees, feeling utterly alone, more alone than the day Fulmina died.

They had gathered by the tethered horses, all saddled for the day’s journey. Toger had his back to the stable when Aquila came out, his spear in his hand, balanced easily on his shoulder. His eyes, like the point of the spear, bored into Toger’s back. Dedon looked over the squat man’s shoulder and nodded his head to indicate the boy and Toger turned, his eyebrows rising at the sight of the spear.

‘Get your weapons,’ said Aquila evenly.

The eyebrows went up even further, completely removing any trace of a forehead. ‘What, boy?’

‘I said get your weapons. If you don’t, I’ll kill you anyway.’

‘You kill me?’ Toger pushed a stubby finger into his chest and turned so that the others could share in the joke. Flaccus, standing behind his horse, eased his sword from its scabbard. If the boy was serious, when Toger killed him, he would have to finish off the mercenary.

‘Want this back, do you lad,’ said Toger, rubbing his hand over the leather amulet which now adorned his upper arm.

The head of the spear moved slightly. ‘That, and the fact that you killed my dog.’

Toger indicated the absurdity of the situation to the other men. ‘Look at him. Skinny runt, he can barely lift the thing.’

Aquila’s voice, so even, so cold, made them turn to look at him. ‘Last chance, Toger. I shan’t ask again.’

The mercenary should not have laughed and it was even more stupid of him to throw his head back in that exaggerated fashion. The point of the spear took him in the centre of the neck, thrown with enough force to come out through the back of the skull. Aquila followed up, yelling madly, but by the time his fists hit Toger on his leather breastplate the man was incapable of further suffering. The blood pumped out of his mouth and neck, frothing as it mixed with his breath and he fell, straight legged, landing in the dust with an almighty thud. Toger croaked once or twice, then his body went limp. Aquila, standing over him, his body shaking, dragged his spear out of the man’s skull. The flow increased to a torrent as the heart pumped the life-blood out of the broken neck, forming a pool by Aquila’s feet. With the spear on his shoulder he looked at the others, standing open-mouthed, dumbfounded by what had happened. They could not believe that a mere boy could kill a man they had all feared.

His voice brought them back to the present. ‘If
any one of you ever attempts to do what he tried last night, I will kill you as well.’

Flaccus slipped his sword back into his scabbard and spoke loudly. ‘I’d say the boy’s done us all a favour.’ The heads turned and looked at him, trying to make sense of what he said. Flaccus knew this was the moment; if they did not agree, he might as well leave them all behind. ‘I was set to kill him anyway, so Aquila here has just saved me the trouble. Now dig a hole, bury the bastard, and let’s get on our way.’

Aquila had put the spear down and stood, still quivering from head to foot, with tears now coursing down his cheeks. Flaccus walked over and looked down at the now inert body, then knelt quickly and removed the amulet, fingering the raised eagle before he tied it back on the sobbing boy’s arm. When he finished, he patted him on the back, then he put a reassuring hand on Aquila’s shoulder.

‘We might have to nickname you Hercules, lad.’ Aquila looked up at him, wet-eyed, for he had expected to die, if not by Toger’s hand, then certainly at the hands of his friends. ‘I think I’d best put you on wages and I’ll even give you a special job. You stay with me at all times and if you think I’m in any danger, you use that spear the way you used it on that pig. Better still, you can have his weapons. Learn to use them too and even I might walk round you.’ 

Using the point of Toger’s knife, Aquila sat unpicking the stitches as they dug his grave, in his mind going over the words Fulmina had used. ‘Wear it when you fear no man’, she had said. He was not sure if that was true now, only that the idea of wearing the amulet was impossible to contemplate, for every time he touched it he would think of Toger and what had happened in the blockhouse; blood had not washed away his feelings of revulsion. The gold flashed in the sunlight as he looked at his inheritance for the first time, marvelling at the way the bird, held up to the blue sky, actually seemed to fly. He unpicked the chain as well, threading it through the gap at the top of the charm, and he held it up in his hands, preparing to put it on, but the shadow that fell across him made the boy look up. Dedon stood there, his eyes fixed on the eagle.