Eagles of Dacia Page 31

  ‘Get some sleep,’ she whispered.

  ‘Why are you awake already? I was going to wake you when I came back.’

  ‘Had trouble sleeping. Nerves, I suppose.’

  Rufinus noted with a twitch that she carried the antique falx with her. ‘If you have to use that, we’re already done for.’

  ‘What about wolves?’ she replied, hefting the horrible weapon. ‘Or bears? Celer is not the only danger out here.’

  That was a comforting reminder, as Rufinus returned to their camp and slid into the warm blankets. Great, he thought, now she’s implanted worries about wild animals too there’s precious little chance of me sleeping. It was the last thing he thought before he fell into a deep and dreamless slumber.

  He awoke with a start, knowing that something was wrong, though not precisely what. He blinked in the cover of the lean-to and rose with difficulty, looking around. Senova lay next to him, making gentle snoring noises, like the whisper of wind through leaves. Luca was away on guard. But something was wrong. It took him a moment to realise. There was light.

  Light.

  Only the very faintest earliest light of day, the glow that heralded the approach of the sun behind the hills. But that was wrong. They should have been on the road for an hour by now.

  ‘Shit.’

  He crouched again with difficulty and a hiss of pain and shook Senova.

  ‘Whampff?’ she asked blearily.

  ‘Something’s wrong. It’s morning.’

  She was alert and on her feet a moment later. ‘Come on.’

  They scurried out of the lean-to and across the hilltop, keeping to the edge of the undergrowth and around to the viewpoint they were using. Rufinus felt his anger rise. The sun was almost ready to put in an appearance, and Luca was leaning against a rock, fast asleep. The young praetorian hurried over, bent down with a hiss of discomfort, and shook the boy. Luca made to yelp and Rufinus’ hand went across his mouth to stifle it immediately.

  ‘You stupid little shit.’

  Senova hissed. ‘Don’t blame him.’

  Rufinus turned his angry eyes on her. ‘Falling asleep on watch is a beating offence at least in the legion.’

  ‘He’s not a legionary. He’s a frightened boy. Leave him alone.’

  Rufinus glared at her. Sometime soon they were going to have to have a frank discussion about the nature or slaves and what was, and what was not, acceptable. She was too bloody soft for her own good, except with Rufinus, of course. Luca was shaking with terror. Rufinus removed his hand.

  ‘Quiet,’ he warned, then rose and squinted down the valley.

  ‘Shitting shit. They’ve broken camp.’

  There was no sign of the encampment or its occupants down the valley between the trees and the small river. His desperate eyes scoured the countryside and a moment later he dropped to a crouch, ignoring the pain it caused and pulling at Senova to do the same. The riders were at the bottom of this very hill, close enough to spit at.

  ‘Move,’ he hissed at the others, and the three of them, trying to keep close to cover, hurried back across the hilltop. Rufinus paused for a moment near the cave where they’d almost stayed and peered back. The riders had stopped. Damn it. Moments ago they had been riding past into the east-west valley ahead. Now they had stopped. Even as one of the scouts turned in his saddle and looked up at the hilltop, Rufinus dropped out of sight and ran.

  At the other side of the hill, Luca and Senova were busy packing things on the horses.

  ‘Forget the gear. Loose the reins and ride.’

  ‘What?’ Senova whispered as Rufinus hurried past her and untethered the horses.

  ‘They’re coming. They’ll be here in moments.’

  ‘Up the hill?’

  ‘Yes, up the bloody hill. Move.’

  Senova mounted and Luca dropped to form a mounting block once again. Rufinus, trying not too seethe with anger at the lad, used him to mount with some difficulty. As the boy took Senova’s hand and clambered up behind her on the other horse, the woman frowned. ‘If we leave all this…’

  ‘They’ll know we’ve been here anyway. Their scouts know. It’s all about speed, now.’

  He kicked the horse into a run and began to descend the far side of the hill.

  ‘What now?’ Senova asked breathlessly as her horse fell in alongside his.

  ‘Forest. There’s forest down there which goes for miles. If we go out into the open valley we’re done for. If we get into the woods, we might just be able to lose them. There’ll be streams and animal tracks and all sorts. I’m good at riding in woodland, and I’m not a bad tracker. My brother and I used to hunt in the forests of Tarraconensis. I reckon I can move faster in there than your average cavalryman. Come on.’

  They raced down the slope and toward the dark, brooding treeline.

  ‘There,’ hissed Rufinus, pointing to a darker aperture in the gloom. A trail through the forest. A good place to start.

  Taking the lead, he headed for that opening and hunched down as best he could with the tight bindings on his torso. Even so, as he passed into the eaves of the forest, twigs and leaves and other flora whipped and battered him, and Atalanta made her displeasure at the terrain known in a dozen subtle ways. He reined in a few dozen paces into the trees and motioned for Senova to do the same. Carefully, he wheeled his horse and walked her toward the edge of the woods once more. His eyes rose to the hilltop where they had been only moments earlier.

  A dozen or more mounted figures hoved into view up there just a heartbeat later and Rufinus’ heart raced. Damn, but that had been close. The riders moved around the hill, pointing out bits of their camp. Some dismounted to examine things closer. Likely the blankets were still warm, suggesting that they had only just left. His heart skipped a beat as one of the riders pointed directly at him, but the man then also pointed slightly to the right and then at the wide east-west valley.

  Rufinus backed his horse deeper into the trees.

  ‘I have no doubt they’ll follow us, but we should be able to gain a little distance over them. This is my sort of terrain.’

  With that, they pressed on into the woods. It was eerie in the pre-dawn gloom, mist rising from the ground, especially since they moved without speaking, staying as quiet as they could. Rufinus used every trick he could think of, finding streams and riding along them for a way before taking an odd tangent the way they had come, doubling back and then zig-zagging to another stream to move down and gain more distance again.

  At one particular fork in a game trail, Rufinus sent Senova off down the main one, while he moved off along the side branch, making sure to walk across the mud and leave the most visible hoof prints he could. He then shifted onto less malleable ground and sought a more open area of woodland. There he put on his helmet and lowered his face to prevent being hit by whipping branches and moved through the heart of the forest until he converged with Senova on the main path once more. It would not fool a pursuer for long, especially a trained scout, but it might just throw them off long enough to buy extra time.

  Gradually the light came up and it became easier to see where they were going. Finally, at a clearing somewhere in the deep forest, they paused. ‘We need to eat,’ Rufinus said, and dismounted with a thud and a wince at the pain it caused. Senova and Luca slid from their horse and, as Rufinus began rummaging in the bags, Senova wandered off to the edge of the small glade and started to examine the trees one by one.

  ‘What in Hades are you doing?’ Rufinus asked as he unwrapped the bread they had bought yesterday.

  ‘Do you know what direction we’re travelling in?’

  Rufinus nodded. ‘East-ish.’

  ‘I don’t think so. I think we’ve gone off course and started to turn. I think if we’re not careful we’ll be going back on ourselves.’

  ‘Rubbish.’

  Senova put her hands on her hips. ‘Really? And how do you know where we’re going then, Mister I’ve-hunted-in-woods-like-these?’

&nb
sp; ‘I’ve been keeping my eye on the tree moss. Like you are now. See how the moss grows on the south side of the tree? That’s how I know where we’re going.’

  ‘You poor urban fool,’ Senova sighed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Moss doesn’t grow on the south side. Moss grows on whichever side gets the most moisture. And the rains we’ve been having have generally been carried from the north or west. I reckon all this moss you’ve been thinking of as south is actually west, and that means we’re currently going north.’

  Rufinus snorted. ‘What is that, some native Briton magic thing?’

  ‘Just common sense, Gnaeus. Moss grows in the wet, as anyone can see. So wherever moss grows is going to be the wettest part. We’re going north.’

  They ate a small, quick and cold lunch in an irritable silence. Rufinus glared at Senova for calling him a fool and at Luca for causing this mess. Senova glared at him for not believing her and at Luca for not backing her up. Luca kept his head down. Acheron ate meat.

  Finally, they saddled up and began to move again. A quarter of an hour later, they reached an open hill with a wide grassy valley running beneath it. Rufinus rode out into the open and looked up.

  The sun was in the wrong place.

  He felt a shiver of embarrassment and turned to find Senova glaring at him with one raised brow.

  ‘Alright, I concede that one. You’re in charge of directions, then.’

  As the afternoon set in, they moved into another forest, repeating the same tricks and ruses, moving with speed despite the difficulty of the terrain. The afternoon slid toward evening, though the sun was still considerably proud of the horizon when they emerged from the woodland into another wide valley.

  Ahead, they could see hills rising with more forests atop them, higher than the ones they had been travelling through for the past two days.

  ‘If your map’s anywhere near accurate, and it should be given that it came from the legion, then Castrum Sex will be just beyond those hills. Maybe an hour’s ride. Less than two, certainly.’

  ‘Do you think we’ve lost the cavalry?’

  Rufinus sighed. ‘I hope so. I’ve done everything I can think of. If they followed our trail we should have bought several hours. We can be some distance ahead while they’re still floundering around in the woods at dusk.’

  Fortuna don’t desert me, he begged silently. I know I promised an altar and haven’t delivered it yet, but I will. I will. I really will. Just see us through Castrum Sex and into the borderlands.

  XXI – A night of tension

  Castrum Sex had, to Rufinus, something of the same frontier feel as Porolissum had, though without the latter’s added feeling of civilisation that came with being the seat of an imperial procurator and the heart of a grand defensive system.

  As the weary trio and their canine companion closed on the place, Rufinus took in everything he could in the late afternoon sunlight. Constructed within a loop in a good-sized river and lying at the meeting place of four valleys, the place was built upon a spur of land on three distinct levels. On the flat ground, by to the water and in a ‘U’ shape, were industrial buildings, a small dock, and what were clearly the less reputable locations in the town. They surrounded a higher middle plateau that dominated the flat land, with a small Roman township constructed upon it. That town in itself lay at the base of a steep slope, atop which lay a domed hilltop containing the humps and bumps of a long-abandoned timber-and-turf fort, probably dating back to the conquest.

  All of it had a slightly disaffected and neglected feel to it. The lower town appeared somewhat dingy and glum. The middle town Rufinus thought looked as though it was struggling to be something more worthwhile that a frontier settlement. The fortlet was a ruin of grassy lumps, nothing more.

  The small party rode in from the northwest, weary and achy after their days of traversing forests in unpredictable patterns. Already, late in the afternoon, torches and lamps were being lit against the coming darkness or – Rufinus’ wary eyes strayed to the woodlands in which they’d spent their day – possibly bears? He’d forgotten during their mad dash through the forests that the hilly forests in Dacia were home to wolves and bears. After all, Acheron’s breed were kept here to hunt the damn things. He and Senova may well have been lucky to get to Castrum Sex without an angry bear attack.

  They entered the town quietly, passing between a large factory of some sort and a waterfront dive where busty women made lewd suggestions at Rufinus and, rather dishearteningly, more often at Senova. Even Luca took his share of suggestive offers. Ignoring the cat calls and the lascivious jokes, they trotted along the main street, past hovels and cheap businesses, and then began to climb the slope toward the higher town.

  Rufinus decided as they passed into that tier that perhaps he had been unkind with his initial judgement. There was a certain rugged charm about the place and, while it may not be adorned with the great structures of a Roman city, it was actually far more civilised than a number of towns he had visited in Pannonia, Noricum and Northern Italia.

  They moved into the heart of the settlement, a square surrounded by houses of stone and timber. Though Rufinus was constantly wary, the hair standing proud on his neck, all they came across was locals, shouting and laughing, calling one another names, and all in the Dacian tongue. No Latin at all. A few women shouted at them. Men glared in distrust but swallowed their beer and went about their business. Rufinus risked approaching one of the quieter men.

  ‘Mansio?’ he hazarded.

  The man threw up on Atalanta’s hoof.

  He tried someone else.

  ‘Mansio?’

  The man shrugged and walked off.

  The third attempt was more successful and the man pointed off down one of the more major streets. Consequently Rufinus and his companions walked their horses slowly down that street, eyes constantly roving across their surroundings, testing, searching, Acheron trotting along at their side with his tongue lolling.

  ‘That’ll be it,’ Rufinus announced, pointing ahead. Amid the squat buildings stood a larger structure of two stories with a sign hanging outside by the door showing a legion’s eagle standing on a bunch of grapes.

  ‘Looks like an ordinary tavern,’ Senova replied doubtfully.

  ‘A lot of the more rural ones do, but the eagle’s a give-away. I’m sure that’ll be it. Let’s go check.’

  The walked on down the street and, as they closed on the building with suspicious native eyes tracking their every step, Rufinus’ eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  ‘Wait,’ he hissed suddenly and hauled on his reins, bringing Atalanta to a halt.

  Frowning similarly, Senova stopped. A horse had been brought out of a side-alley and was being led across the front of the probable-mansio by a groom, taking it into the building’s stable.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s a Roman horse. A cavalry horse.’

  Senova sucked on her lip. ‘How can you tell? Looks like any other horse to me.’

  ‘Trust me. Those fittings are cavalry fittings and that’s a Roman saddle.’

  As if to lend weight to his words, another groom led two more from the alley into the stables.

  ‘Get off the street,’ Rufinus hissed, pointing to a small yard full of barrels. Swiftly they ducked into the side-yard in the gloom. Rufinus walked Atalanta carefully back to the street corner and peered around it at the mansio. The grooms had gone back and were leading two more horses each. All were fitted legionary-cavalry-style and, if Rufinus had needed any more proof, one of the cavalry troopers from the Thirteenth chose that moment to step out of the front door and check on the progress of stabling the horses. Rufinus drew back from the corner and hurried over to Senova.

  ‘It’s them. Absolutely no doubt.’

  ‘What are they doing here? You were sure you could lose them in the forest.’

  Rufinus gave an exasperated hiss. ‘Senova, they got here before us so they weren’t following us at all. I just as
sumed they would pursue us into the forest. Their scouts had to be good enough to know that’s where we went, after all. Celer is a gambler, it seems. He must have decided that we were making for Castrum Sex – it is the nearest sizeable settlement in line with where we were travelling – and simply bypassed the woods and came here to wait for us.’

  ‘Clever.’

  Rufinus nodded. ‘In a way we’ve been incredibly lucky, though.’

  ‘Oh?’ Senova replied. ‘How?’

  ‘They’re probably hoping to surprise and trap us, letting us walk into their arms. Instead, we’ve discovered they’re here while they are settling in. We know they’re here, but they don’t know we are. That has to be a win, I’d say.’

  ‘What if they ask around. A lot of the locals will remember us.’

  Rufinus smiled. ‘Celer and Daizus will have made their enquiries on the way in before us, before they got to the mansio. They’ll have wanted to make sure we didn’t beat them here. Now they’ll be comfortable that’s not the case.’

  Senova nodded, breathing steadily. ‘So we keep going and get ahead of them?’

  Rufinus shook his head. ‘We have the same problem we had last night. The horses are tired from the day. More so today, because of that stupid woodland trek. And there will be nowhere open at this time to buy horses, even if there’s anywhere at all in this place – it would attract a lot of unwanted attention. No, the animals need a good rest or we’ll be in trouble tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re not suggesting we stay in town?’ she replied, incredulously.

  Rufinus smiled oddly. ‘There was nothing wrong with the plan last night. It would have worked had sleepy here not dozed off on watch.’

  Luca gave him a look of dreadful embarrassment and abject misery, and Rufinus sighed as he regretted his words. He was going to have to stop considering the feelings of slaves. He was slowly turning into a mushy bundle of soppiness.

  ‘You are suggesting we stay?’

  ‘We can’t keep going, Senova. The horses need to rest, and so do we. But we’ve got the advantage, so we’ll stay clever. We’ll lay a false trail and then stay somewhere just right.’ His eyes drifted up the steep hill. ‘Come on.’