Sword of Rome(103)

Since then they had heard nothing.

She flinched as another bright flare briefly pierced the night. A villa, just like this? A farm? Was it closer than the last? So far the German auxiliaries had kept their depredations to the far side of the river, but she knew that could change at any time. A stream of refugees carrying the blackened remnants of their lives had confirmed the cavalrymen were part of a mighty army and that they were becoming bolder by the day. Earlier she had seen a great column of smoke to the north-west that could be no single building. Her uncle had stood beside her with tears in his eyes and said a single word. ‘Cuttiae.’

Cuttiae was – had been – a small community less than ten miles away, on the north side of the river. Its people had stayed firm for Otho. Prixus sighed and Domitia tried not to notice as he wiped his eyes. ‘I think that tomorrow we must move into the city.’

He was telling her it was only a matter of time before they came.





XXXVIII


‘What happens when we reach Dertona?’

Valerius glanced over his shoulder as he pondered his response to a question which had any number of answers. ‘Are they still there?’

‘Two miles or so back. They’re not trying to run us down, so either their horses are as tired as ours, or they have something else in mind.’ They had been there for two hours, just visible as a dark smudge on the flat, dusty landscape. ‘It’s the ones we can’t see I’m worried about.’

They had ridden through the night, stopping only to water and feed the horses. At dawn there had been grumbles from the worn-out legionaries that they should stop and rest, until Valerius pointed out that Claudius Victor and his vengeful Batavians were probably not far behind and he was unlikely to allow his men that luxury. His instinct had been correct, for not much later Serpentius spotted riders keeping pace with the little column. They would get rest and food at Dertona. If they ever got there. ‘You think they’ve got ahead of us?’

Serpentius shrugged. ‘I don’t see how, but who knows? You said they did the impossible in Britannia.’

‘I didn’t witness it, but men who did said the Batavians could swim rivers in full armour and disappear into the ground when your back was turned. The way you do.’

The Spaniard grinned. ‘Just be thankful I’m not hunting you.’

Valerius felt a surge of affection for the former gladiator who had become his friend. ‘If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t have got this far. A lot depends on whether Dertona has declared for Vitellius or stayed loyal. When we reach the city, if Domitia is still there, I’ll try to persuade her to come with us. Placentia’s not much further ahead, and from there we can take the road south and join Otho.’

‘And if she doesn’t agree?’

Valerius took a deep breath. ‘If she decides to stay, I’ll stay with her, and you and the others can go on.’

‘You think so?’ Serpentius produced the barking cough that passed as laughter with his people.

‘It would be wiser,’ Valerius said. They both knew it was a likely death sentence to stay.

‘I’m a Spaniard, Valerius.’ The dark eyes turned dangerous. ‘An Asturian. If we were wise, we would never have let the Romans take our country. You can keep your wisdom and your culture, I’ve lived as a filthy barbarian and I’ll die a filthy barbarian.’

The Roman smiled. ‘Then let’s see if we can’t put a little more distance between us and our Batavian friends.’

They approached the walls of Dertona just as dawn broke after another night in the saddle. ‘Don’t expect a warm welcome,’ Serpentius warned the men. ‘They’ll be expecting trouble and we look like the worst kind.’

Valerius rubbed his bearded chin and ran an eye over his six companions; pinch-faced, brooding and full of menace in their stinking furs and rust-pitted armour they looked more like bandits than soldiers. ‘I’ll go first.’

‘Be my guest. And don’t worry. If anybody puts an arrow through your throat I’ll stick a spear through his.’

‘That’s very comforting.’ Valerius rode slowly towards the gate with his arms raised to shoulder height. He got to within a few paces of the wooden palisade before he was challenged.

‘Stop! Who’s there?’

Whoever was asking, or someone less inclined to debate, didn’t wait for an answer. Valerius saw a blur of movement on the palisade and twisted in the saddle as an expertly thrown spear hurtled towards him. If he hadn’t been riding a cavalry-bred mount, trained to obey knee and heel, it would have taken him in the midriff. Instead, the horse danced sideways and the spear passed harmlessly by. ‘Friend,’ he shouted. ‘I’m a friend.’