Julius pushed the dead man off. Scipio pulled his dagger from the man’s neck.
“Thanks.”
“Of course, sir.”
A loud squeal announced the access door finally giving way. Halder tossed the bent wheel onto the floor. “Let’s go,” he ordered, grabbing a lantern from the hallway and turning up the wick. Julius and Scipio followed him into a dark, cavernous space. They stood on a landing. A flight of stairs wound up and down, disappearing into inky blackness.
“Long way down,” Scipio observed as he leaned over the wooden guardrail.
Halder reached out and grabbed his tunic, pulling him back. “Rotten.” He pushed the wood with his fist and pieces popped off, falling down, down, down into the seemingly endless abyss. Scipio’s eyes widened as he gulped.
Julius peered upward. “How far up are we going?”
The Nortlander shrugged. “Until we stop.”
It seemed like an eternity as they wound up the many flights of stairs, the length of their passage marked by occasional doors set into the wall. Climb, climb, climb, turn. Repeat.
After what seemed like hours, Julius finally stumbled into Scipio as the man staggered to a halt. They collapsed upon the steps, panting, Julius fumbling for his canteen. He savored the flat, metallic taste of the water as though it was the nectar of the gods. Scipio eyed him jealously. Julius thought briefly about hoarding the remaining drops to himself before relenting and handing over the canteen. Scipio drained the remaining water and handed it back wordlessly. Julius turned to see why they had paused their ascent.
Halder had stopped before a nondescript steel door, no different from every other doorway they had passed. It must have been marked in some unobtrusive way, to get their guide’s attention. Halder tapped on it lightly, once, twice, three times.
The door swung soundlessly open, spilling light and the sound of soothing music onto the long staircase. Voices beckoned them inside. Scipio hauled Julius to his feet, and they followed Halder inside. Scipio cursed loudly.
A large war party awaited them, men with finely crafted armor and weapons, their retainers no less finely equipped. The men greeted Halder graciously, or so it appeared, and a customary shot of dark liquor was shared among the men. The Romans were first eyed suspiciously, then welcomed warmly. Julius and Scipio quickly downed their shots of the smooth liquor, no doubt from some special aged stock.
Julius looked around. The walls were decorated with tasteful tapestries and pieces of native art. Small fountains in recessed niches pattered soothingly between wood-paneled doors below carved lintels. The luxury stood in stark contrast to the spartan accommodations they had seen elsewhere in the mountain fortress.
“You can tell that some of those rich and mighty types live here,” Scipio whispered to Julius as the men followed Halder through the well-lit hallways.
“This looks like I’d expect of a rich apartment complex in Rome,” Julius replied.
Halder turned and smiled at him. “We capture Roman builder. Make him build us these rooms. We like Roman things. Just no like Romans.” His grin turned predatory for a moment. “But it okay. I like you.” Chuckling, he pointed to a doorway. “This is the one. Your woman is inside.”
Julius looked at him blankly. “My woman? You mean the senatora?”
Halder nodded, eyes twinkling.
The centurion tried the door handle, cursing when he discovered that it was locked. Guess we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way. He took a few steps back, then charged the door at full speed, impacting the door with his armored shoulder. He rebounded from the solid panel and sprawled on the floor, cursing in pain as stars swam before his eyes.
Scipio helped him up, laughing. “You should have seen yourself, sir! It was like the door really didn’t like you!”
Julius ignored him, rubbing his shoulder and arm. He looked at Halder, who had doubled over with laughter; the men behind him were laughing as well. Great, I just nixed our chances of being taken seriously. “I’d like to see you try it,” he said defensively.
Halder, still laughing, stepped up to the door and hacked away at it with his chain-axe. The powerful weapon splintered away great hunks of wood. Pausing, he pushed in the center with one large hand, and the door collapsed in on itself. Bowing low, Halder swept his arm out in a sarcastic invitation.
“Nortlanders,” Julius muttered as he stepped past the man.
He entered a lushly decorated suite, the sheer amount of fur, gold trimmings, and delicately carved wood practically screaming wealth. Scipio, who had followed, looked around with gleaming eyes. “Could I. . borrow some things, sir?” he asked. Julius told him to ask Halder. I wonder how that will go.
He looked about the room, then checked the smaller side rooms, discovering two bathrooms, a separate dining room, storage rooms, and one eerily empty room with just a single chair. Confused, and losing hope, Julius opened the last door to find a bedroom. The room was cozy, warmed by a fireplace in which a fire crackled, warding off the stony chill of the walls. But the crackling fire reminded Julius of the events in Sundsvall, and he bleakly recalled his argument with Gwendyrn, the renewal of their friendship, and the battle that had torn them apart. I haven’t seen him, or any other Roman but Scipio, in. . weeks? Months? Who knows how long I’ve been captive. He mentally pushed his thoughts away.
“Senatora? Senatora Pelia? Are you in here?” Julius walked over to the bed, pushing aside the lightweight curtains around it. He gave a quick cheer. “I’ve got her, Scipio! Bring Halder!”
The other men bounded into the room. “I told you. Here she is,” Halder reminded Julius as he sauntered into the bedroom with Scipio close on his heels.
“How will we get her out of here, sir? She looks dead. Is she breathing?” Scipio asked.
Pulling his gauntlet off, Julius placed his hand in front of her mouth. He felt the warmth and faint passage of her breath on the back of his hand. “She’s alive. I don’t think we can move her much while she’s asleep. But we have to get her out of here before we continue the battle.”
Halder shrugged. “You carry. I fight.”
Julius shook his head. “I don’t think we can carry her out of this fortress without someone knowing it. And I don’t think they’re likely to let us escape easily. Plus, it’s hard to fight or run when you’re carrying a person.”
Halder was about to reply when he froze, eyes darting around the room. Scipio opened his mouth to say something, but Halder reached out and silenced him with one meaty hand. Julius stood silent as well, straining his senses for a hint of what had alerted Halder.
Then he heard it: a faint creak coming from a well-stocked bookshelf in the corner. Halder strode over and gripped both sides of the bookshelf, pulling it toward him. To Julius’s surprise, the bookcase opened like a door, revealing a small girl in servant’s clothing. She sputtered before turning to flee. Halder grabbed her and held her up by her arm, spouting a stream of Norse at her. She quailed, tears rolling down her face. Something about her seemed very familiar to Julius. She finally spoke, haltingly, in Norse.
Halder lowered her to the ground and looked at Julius. “She one of yours, Roman.”
She turned, and for the first time Julius got a good look at her face as she looked up at him, her eyes red from crying. She looked so familiar, Julius was sure he must know her. He moved hesitantly toward her.
And then it all clicked.
“Marciena?”
“Julius? Julius!” She practically screamed at him as she ran into his arms. She flung her thin arms around his neck and held tight. Julius cupped her head with his hand and held her against him, blinking tears. For what seemed like an eternity, Julius held his little sister, all else forgotten in his reunion with the last member of his family.