The thin rain stopped and there was a glimpse of the sun as it came under the clouds, bathing the mountains in warm light and setting the sky afire in reds and pinks. Ferox tried to picture the land ahead and work out what each group was most likely to do.
‘Do you remember that hollow not far from the bridge?’
Vindex sucked on his long teeth for a moment. ‘Aye, rock behind you, a few in front to give shelter from the wind, and space for the horses behind those bushes. Decent campsite, only the tribune wanted to push on. Bit big for two, though, if that’s what you’re thinking. Anyone could get above you with a couple of men. You’d be easy meat for a man with a good eye and a handful of javelins. And with a few friends to box you in from the front. Thetatus.’ Vindex had heard Longinus and liked the sound of the word. ‘These two have been smart enough to follow and stay alive so far. Why should they turn dumb now?’
‘Only a thought. Hold a minute.’ Ferox stared at the ground until he was sure. ‘Five of them or maybe six. All Ordovices.’ He could tell that from the shape of their boot prints. ‘Came down from up there and crossed the path.’ He followed for a few paces. ‘Two went on up the far side. The other three, no, I’m right, four, kept going along the path. An hour ago, give or take. Come on, hurry.’ He swung up into the saddle and prodded the horse into a trot.
‘Oh bugger,’ Vindex moaned, and then vaulted onto his bay and followed.
The path wound around a corner and for a good half-mile the slope rose gently and, weary or not, the horses surged up it joyfully. After that it became more difficult and they slowed back to a walk. Ferox patted the neck of his gelding. He had never seen the animal until they left Londinium, and had only grown fond of it on the journey. A little further on and he needed only a slight tug on the reins to halt. He gave it another pat.
‘We leave them here,’ he said. ‘Hobble them and hope for the best.’
‘Trust to luck? On a day a bridge fell down in front of us.’
‘Well, how can it get worse after that?’
Vindex undid the chin strap of his helmet and pushed his fingers over his face to rub his eyes. ‘Dying springs to mind.’
‘Acco tells me I’m destined to kill him,’ Ferox said. It was the first time he had told anyone else and oddly enough speaking the words made it all seem possible. ‘Haven’t done that yet, so I’m all right.’
‘Oh, thank you very much.’ Vindex lifted off the helmet and shook his long hair, then carefully donned the helmet again. ‘Truly?’
‘That is what he said.’
Vindex whistled. ‘Could be a weight on a man’s soul, something like that. Even with what he is and what he’s done. Might bring a whole storm of bad luck.’
Ferox laughed. ‘Or it might explain why my life has been like this up to now!’ He remembered Longinus saying something about needing to do the deeds to earn the punishments he’d suffered. Something else was fighting for attention in his thoughts, but there was not time now. ‘You know you don’t have to come.’
‘One day, I won’t, you old bastard.’
‘Dumb after all,’ Vindex whispered.
Ferox put his fingers to his lips. Sound carried so easily at night, which was why the Silures were schooled from childhood to cherish silence. Use the quiet, use the darkness, they were taught, and wait, wait, wait for the right moment. Yet he had to admit that the two riders had been most unwise. They were in the hollow just as he had thought they might be. That much was obvious, even in the darkness, for they had lit a fire, and their two pale horses cast flickering shadows against the rocks of the cliff. Neither of the men was on guard, and he could plainly see all of one dark shape asleep by the warmth of the fire and glimpse the end of the other. At this distance he could not see whether it was the head or the feet.
Their two pursuers were either very foolish or this was a trap, although probably not for them. Ferox had led them up the slopes on the opposite side of the valley, and then close to the chasm, going slowly and often stopping to listen. The thick cloud meant that it was a dark night, but after a while his eyes became used to it. Vindex sounded like a cavalry charge following behind, even though he knew the scout moved stealthily enough. It was just that he was not a Silure. For a while they were so close to the stream that its unceasing roar covered any noise they could make. Once near the posts where the bridge had stood, it was easy enough, keeping the track on their right and crouching, then crawling pace by slow pace over the folds in the ground. It led them to a couple of boulders where they rested and watched. He could sense Vindex getting restless as at least an hour passed and nothing happened.
Ferox tapped the scout on the shoulder and pointed up to the bluff above the camp. The firelight was dying down with no one awake to feed it, and its light did not reach so high. Even so, the crest was darker than the sky, and he had spotted a shape moving on top. Vindex shifted slightly, nodding to show that he had seen, and then Ferox pointed again, this time at a less clear figure near the other one. He started to scan the ground in front of the camp, and happened to be staring at the spot just as a warrior stood up. The man had a spear and shield, the weapon held up ready to throw or thrust. Again Ferox tapped the scout and pointed, wondering why it was that his friend needed help to spot things in the dark. Another of the Ordovices rose from the tussocky grass, to the right of the first man, no more than twenty paces from the camp. Ferox looked to the left and one, then a second man appeared, all armed like the first. Spear points glinted faintly red in the firelight. Without a sound the four warriors started walking forward, closing in on the sleepers.
Vindex moved to get up, but Ferox pressed his hand on the scout’s shoulder to wait. Another dark shape appeared, indistinct in the shadows because it was between them and the warrior on the far left. Ferox smiled.
A javelin flickered as it was thrown down from the bluffs and struck the fire, scattering sparks high. The four warriors yelled and dashed forward, but neither of the sleeping forms stirred. Behind them, the fifth, darkest figure strode silently after them, but none turned to see it. Before they reached the camp another missile came from above, driving into one of the sleeping shapes.
Run now, Ferox thought, but knew they would not and he tapped Vindex. ‘Come on,’ he whispered, and stood, drawing his sword. The Ordovices were in the camp, jabbing with their spears and then one shouted, yanking back the blankets and then tipping up the log they concealed. One of the men on the bluffs screamed and fell, limbs thrashing like a speared fish and the shaft sticking out of his back. The four warriors in the camp yelped and scattered to avoid him.
The dark figure behind them threw off his dark hooded cloak and in the same gesture raised a sword in one hand and a curved blade in the other. The steel gleamed, as did the polished helmet he wore. He started to run. There were shouts from the top of the cliff.
Then the man in the helmet shrieked an unearthly cry, high-pitched and appallingly loud even over the distant roaring of the water. Ferox drew his sword as he ran and heard Vindex tramping across the grass beside him. He had explained the plan at length. Deal with the Ordovices first, then try to get at least one of their pursuers alive and find out who they were. ‘So whose side are we on?’ the scout had asked.
‘Our own, of course. Don’t kill either of them unless we have to. Not until we know why they have followed.’
The warriors spun as the awful shriek echoed around the dell, but the man in the helmet was fast and the nearest one seemed frozen with surprise. He feebly thrust out his spear as the man came at him. The curved blade hooked the spearshaft aside, the man spun with the motion and drove the gladius in his right hand into the warrior’s throat. Thetatus, as Longinus and now Vindex would say. The man in the helmet spun again, moving fast with the grace of a dancer and dodging the enemy’s attacks, even though he was now in the middle of the three of them, no longer shrieking as he faced each in turn. His face shone, and Ferox realised that he wore a cavalry helmet with a face mask. Apart from the helmet he had no armour and wore a short tunic, his bare arms and legs pale.