Sword of Rome(108)

‘If Otho is close perhaps we will be able to hire a wagon. But I may have to ask you to endure another day in the saddle.’

Domitia smiled and his heart seemed to skip. ‘I am in your hands, tribune, and I will endure what I must. But I will be glad to see the inside of a bath house.’

‘Another hour and I promise you will have as much water as you please.’ But he had forgotten that they were the playthings of the gods.

He had ordered the man at the tail of the column to hang back so they had warning of any threat from the rear, but it was Serpentius who sensed their presence. He shouted to Valerius to stop and sat for a moment with his ears cocked like a fox listening for a rustle in the grass.

‘Riders, coming up fast.’

Valerius scanned the far horizon. At first he could see nothing, but then a grey mass appeared at the very periphery of his vision.

‘Do we fight them?’ Metto’s voice was close to panic.

Valerius frantically searched the surroundings for some sort of defensive position, but the ground was flat as a gaming board. The river? He looked to his left. The tree-lined bank was about a mile from the road. As a last resort …? The nervous horse danced beneath him and he saw Domitia looking to him for some kind of reassurance. No, he couldn’t risk it. He tried to judge the distance between himself and the riders, himself and the city. Could they make Placentia before they were overtaken?

‘We run!’ As he shouted the order, he grabbed her reins and kicked his horse into motion, leading her towards the hazy smudge on the horizon. The others followed suit and soon even the worst-mounted legionary had passed him as he kept pace with Domitia and Serpentius, who would not leave her side. It was clear that riding side saddle she couldn’t keep pace with the other riders. She realized it as soon as Valerius did.

‘You must leave me,’ she cried.

He found himself grinning. ‘Not as long as I have breath in my body.’

Serpentius glanced over his shoulder. ‘They’re gaining and they’re very good.’

Domitia’s mind raced. ‘Look away,’ she said. Valerius thought he’d misheard. ‘I said look away.’

He did as she ordered and heard the sound of tearing cloth above the thunder of hooves. A cry of triumph and the roan surged ahead. When he looked again, he saw she was riding astride, with the torn material of her skirt flapping in the slipstream and barely covering her long legs. Truly she was her father’s daughter.

Now it was Domitia’s turn to overtake the least proficient horsemen among the legionaries and they found themselves in the middle of the charging pack. Placentia was plainly visible now as a dark hump on the horizon. How far? Three miles? Four? Could their mounts keep up this pace? Valerius dared a glance back. Mars’ beard, how could they have caught up so fast? He could see individual riders now, and Serpentius was right. He had served with cavalry long enough to know veterans when he saw them.

‘Their horses are fresher than ours,’ the Spaniard rasped.

A gap had opened up between the main group and three of the legionaries, riding wide-eyed with fear and lashing at their mounts. Valerius looked again for somewhere to make a stand, but he could see nowhere that would give them even the ghost of a chance. Their pursuers outnumbered them by at least thirty. They rode hunched over their horses’ necks and he imagined the grim resolve on the barbarian faces. By now it was clear, if there had ever been doubt, that they were Claudius Victor’s Batavians. The relentless pursuit and disregard of their horses’ condition were proof enough that they were being driven on by a madman. Valerius’s three stragglers dropped back further and he winced at the thought of what would happen when the Batavians reached them. If they gained the outskirts of the town and could find a building or a yard, they might have a chance, but Placentia was still a good mile distant. He knew there was nothing anyone could do for them. Instead, he crouched low in the saddle and tried to coax another fraction of speed out of his mount.

Closer. Closer. He recognized the bulk of Placentia’s amphitheatre and beyond it the city walls with their stone towers. Something was different and he realized that where the arena had been crowded by other buildings, it now stood alone. The defenders must have torn down every house outside the walls to give themselves a clear field of fire. The knowledge brought a new thrill of panic. What if the city was already under siege?

The thunder of hooves rang louder. He didn’t risk a look back, but he knew it meant that the Batavians must be close to spear range. A prolonged shriek that died away on the breeze confirmed his suspicion, quickly followed by a second, and then a third. Domitia heard it too. He saw a flash of fear in her eyes, but she held her nerve and rode her horse like a cavalry trooper. Valerius moved his mount in behind the roan to shield her from the hunters, but he knew that if they got close enough to do her harm they were finished in any case. Gradually they drew ahead of Metto and the surviving legionary, and as they did so, the centurion drew his spatha and shouted an order. Valerius watched the two men haul up and turn to meet the charging Batavians. Serpentius would have gone with them, but Valerius snarled at him to stay with Domitia. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the centurion flick a spear point aside and run his attacker through with his sword. Metto’s cry of triumph split the air, only to turn into a shriek as the following Batavian spitted him with his lance, hurling him backwards from the saddle. The other legionary was already dead. Remembering the fallen soldiers were followers of Mithras, Valerius sent up a prayer to the bull-slayer to take them into his keeping.