‘And what do we do now?’
‘We go south and west with our clan, back to our old lands. To wait for the peace or the war.’ She turned her horse to face that way, paused for a moment. ‘Others can remember them, if they wish to. Tomyris, she shall remember them. But I shall forget them, if I can. Kai, and Laimei. Do not speak of them to me again.’
She set her heels to her horse, in search of the place that every Sarmatian knew. A place where the rushing air quieted all voices, where the earth lay suspended between every hard stroke of the hooves. For at the gallop, one could, for a moment, be taken to another world.
But, like one of the cursed and fated women from the old stories, she found herself looking back one last time. And there, on the horizon, a point of light answered her gaze, the glimmer of sun against metal, a figure that seemed to stand still for a moment even as the others moved on. The sun on the tip of a spear, perhaps. Or a gauntleted hand, waving goodbye.
Kai’s warband rode lightly at first, back across the plains and towards the river, the foothills to the north of them. The touch of warmth from the spring sun upon their faces, the long grass dancing in the wind and no longer stilled by frost. They rode back towards the Romans, and perhaps to death as well, but the company travelled with song and laughter. Later, Kai knew, would come the fear – sharp and quick like the cut of the knife. Shame as well, for they were a people who did not know how to surrender, did not know how it was to be done. But at first there was only a pleasing sense of symmetry, a closing of the circle, as they returned to the west once again and chased the setting sun each day.
It was the horses that seemed to know before the riders. For by the second day they tossed their heads, were dull against the pull of the reins, kicked and bit restlessly even at those who were their close companions. The next day, Kai felt it too – the cold touch that pulled one’s head around, like a hand of ice splayed against the cheek and wrenching at the jaw. The prickle of the skin, a maddening itch that could not be scratched.
The day after that, it had gone beyond an unplaceable feeling. From time to time Kai would shade his eyes and look to the horizon, suddenly cock his head to one side as he heard the distant whicker of a horse. All about him, he could see the others do the same, yet none spoke of it during the day – to speak of it would make it all too real. The formation closed up, from the nomad’s wandering herd to the cavalry wedge, and scouts drifted out to roam the flanks without a command being uttered.
It was only in the evening, when they gathered around for their cold meal of cured meat (for by unspoken agreement they chose not to risk a fire), that they spoke of what they had first felt, and then seen. And it fell to a captain to speak first. Laimei leaned forward, and stared about the riders, and asked the question that they were waiting for.
‘Who amongst you have seen them?’
No answer at first. Then, Tamura spoke, glancing uncertainly to Kai as she did so. ‘I did. Just for a moment. They were trailing us well, staying out of sight. But one of them was over the rise of the hills to the north. Just for a moment, and with the sun at their back, but I saw them.’
Laimei’s mouth twisted, as though she had bitten into something rotten. ‘You are certain?’
‘I wanted not to see them, but I did. So I am certain.’
Others spoke then. A flank scout who had seen a shadow skate across a cliff face, another rider who had dismounted to check the hoof of his limping horse and caught sight of a figure in the distance. Saratos, letting his horse lap at a pool of water, who had heard some fragment of speech carried on the wind from far away.
There was no doubting it any longer. They were being watched, and followed.
Kai looked to their captain for her command, but she slumped down where she sat, her crooked jaw working as she muttered curses under her breath. He felt the fear spread through the circle, for they saw that their captain did not know what to do.
In open battle, there would be none quicker to lead the way. Hers was no death-mad courage, for her killer’s eyes saw further than just the tip of her spear. She could lead a warband in a breaking charge, or turn and flank and strike an exposed position, or lead a cattle raid that brought back a full herd and no empty saddles amongst the raiders. But the dancing shadow at the edge of her vision, the unknown figures on the horizon, the whispers of curse and ill fortune – these, it seemed, she did not know how to fight. And in her silence, others began to speak.
‘The Romans could not have moved so quickly.’
‘No telling what they can and cannot do. They were not supposed to know how to fight upon the ice, and yet…’
‘Do not speak of that!’
‘What if it is not the Romans at all? How could they come so far?
‘Dacians, perhaps, from the south. Vultures that they are, come to pick at our lands.’
‘They have no need to follow us. They would strike, or run. What do we have that would be worth the taking?’
‘Enough.’ And they did fall quiet, for it was Laimei who spoke now. ‘If they were greater in number than us, they would have struck already. If they are fewer, what does it matter? Watch for them. A scout at each side, and we keep to the open ground even if it slows us. But we continue on. They matter not, for now. We ride in our war gear tomorrow, but that is all.’
Again, the muttering that skirted at the edge of dissent. For they would ride tired and slow, weighted down with the heavy armour. They would be neither running nor fighting – that was how cavalry were destroyed. The meeting of eyes in the darkness, doubt passed silent about the circle like a flask of wine.
‘They may be few,’ Kai said slowly, ‘but if they—’
‘Quiet! I have spoken.’
Kai bowed his head, placed his hand over his heart. ‘You have spoken.’
She looked about the circle. ‘To your places. You know what to do. Sentries, helms off and hoods down – I don’t care about the cold, I need your ears more than your eyes, even if you freeze them off. The rest of you sleep light, weapons in hand. But sleep. Trust in your companions, and trust in the gods.’
They broke from the circle, and Kai saw that the others seemed content, given purpose. For even if they thought their orders wrong, they were a captain’s commands, a captain favoured by the divine. If they were commands that would kill them, they came from the gods. Only he remained behind, for his sister’s gaze held him in place, a silent command. And when they were alone, she said, in words more measured than he had expected: ‘I did not bring you to cause trouble.’
‘I did not come to be ambushed before we are in sight of the Danu.’
‘Nor did I,’ she said simply.
He paused for a moment. Then he said: ‘Found us quickly, didn’t they?’
She tilted her head to the side, eyed him with what he thought might be a grudging respect. ‘Aye. They did. I forget that you are not always a fool. Romans or Dacians, it does not matter who they are. But how they found us…’
‘You think they were watching the camp?’
‘Perhaps,’ she said carefully. ‘A hard thing to do through winter. Perhaps they have a good magician in their service, to mask them so cleverly. But I do not think it so.’
‘You cannot mean to let them stay behind us.’
‘No. We shall catch them. But I do not share my plans with all the warband.’ She drew her knife, and picked restlessly at the ground. ‘I do not trust you for much, Kai,’ she said. ‘But I trust that you would not betray our people. You are weak, but no traitor.’
Kai’s breath stilled in his throat for a moment. ‘You think—’
‘Perhaps.’ And her eyes flittered about the camp from one man to another, the way a falcon will choose its mark from a flock beneath it. ‘I wish it were only those of the River Dragon here. The winter truce is finished now, and the other clans cannot be trusted.’