Reaching out and grabbing the downed German, Fronto unhooked his knees from the beam and landed rather gracelessly on the floor. The optio had pulled himself to the edge of the bed, where Fronto could see him, and was frantically thrusting and swiping with his sword, causing lacerations and wounds to the two men on the floor in front of him.
Climbing to his feet, Fronto drew his sword and advanced on the warrior in the corner, who had drawn a large Celtic-style sword. Feinting with his own blade, he moved closer carefully, keenly aware of the range of the large, sweeping blade in the German’s hands. Without looking away, he addressed his junior.
“Optio, finish those three quickly.”
Aware vaguely of the wet sounds and the sighs and whimpers as the optio slit the throats of the three men on the floor, Fronto concentrated on the remaining warrior. He looked nervous; as well he might be facing two Roman officers now on his own. Surprisingly, he was quiet. In his position, Fronto would be shouting at the top of his voice, trying to get the attention of the warriors not far down the street. There was no way he was going to be able to gut the warrior with that massive blade swinging between them. He just didn’t have the reach. Shame he wasn’t carrying the Celtic Blade that Priscus had saved for him. He couldn’t wait for the optio to stand and join him, or the man would have long enough to come to his senses and start shouting. Only a distraction could work.
The optio watched in astonishment as Fronto stopped stabbing with the blade and held it vertically in front of him with his left hand. He smiled warmly at the German and pointed at the blade with his damaged hand. Confused and intrigued, the sweeping motion of the Celtic blade slowed, its wielder watching the blade in Fronto’s hand. With an elaborate gesture, the legate threw his sword away, into the corner of the room. The German’s eyes followed the arc of the gleaming sword as it fell and pulled themselves back towards his adversary, just in time to see Fronto’s fist hurtling towards him.
The German slid down the wall at the side of the hut, unconscious and with a broken nose. Fronto bit his already lacerated lip to prevent the unbidden cry escaping, rubbed his fist and made a face. Muttering, sure he had re-broken several bones, he went to retrieve his sword and stopped in the centre of the room.
“To hell with them.”
He picked up his ornate cloak and tucked it beneath his arm. Slipping the sword back into its scabbard, he straightened.
“Right, optio. Let’s go and find your men.”
The optio nodded, and the two officers moved toward the hut door. Fronto peered gingerly round the corner and could see the stragglers near the settlement’s gate. The mass of the German force was visible on the hill, moving rapidly away from the town. The German cavalry were with them, so the cohort had apparently made it to safety. Fronto and the optio left the hut and dashed round the side into the back streets of the town. He looked at the optio and made motions suggesting a search. The optio shrugged. They stood for a moment, and the legate smiled. Leaning back against the wall, he began to whistle the call to arms of the Tenth Legion. Grinning, the optio joined in, and the two regaled the empty street with two full blasts of the call.
A couple of minutes later, a legionary’s head peered gingerly around the street corner.
“Sir? Thank Fortuna. I thought it was more of those bastards. We had a couple of run-ins and they chased us half way round the town.”
Fronto gestured to him to come out from behind the wall.
“Is everyone alright?”
The legionary shook his head.
“We lost two sir, and Mannius is looking quite bad.”
Fronto grimaced and sighed. They’d done better than they had any right to.
“Well we should be alright now. Take us to the others. We’d best collect the dead and get them back to the cohort. Don’t want to leave them at the mercy of these barbarians.”
With a nod, the legionary turned.
* * * * *
The relief on Velius’ face was evident at the sight of his commander. Fronto and his small party came down the embankment on a horse and cart stolen from the all-but deserted Sequani town, the two corpses lying in the back between their more fortunate fellows. The small group passed by the scouts and through the picket line without being challenged.
As Fronto dismounted, the optio clambered down the other side and came to attention in front of his centurion. As the other legionaries saluted, Fronto turned to the small party.
“Dismissed. Get those two buried and get some food. We’ll be moving very soon.”
Gratefully, the men of his patrol fell out, taking the bodies and the horse and cart with them. Fronto turned to Velius.
“As you can see, we had varying degrees of success. I take it things went without a hitch for you?”
Velius nodded and opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by the clatter of hooves and shouting.
“What’s all that bloody noise? If you don’t shut up, I’ll string you up and leave you here for the next lot of bloody Germans!”
As Velius spoke he turned toward the clamour in time to see three cavalry men dismounting. One was Ingenuus, the prefect. He turned back to Fronto, raising his eyes skywards.
“See what I mean. A waste of good flesh, the cavalry. We should put the troopers to work on ditches and eat the damn horses.”
Fronto’s smile went as fast at it appeared when he became aware of the look on the cavalry prefect’s face. Ingenuus was pale and looked sickened and the other two cavalrymen appeared equally unhappy.
“Ingenuus. What’s happened?”
The prefect pointed down the valley.
“We’ve just been scouting on ahead and we’ve found… something. I think you ought to see this, sir.”
Fronto nodded. He’d have liked to sit down for a while but from the look on the prefect’s face he felt this would have to take precedence. Indeed, Ingenuus had proven himself to be as astute and brave as Fronto remembered, and if what he’d seen had taken him that badly, it would need investigating.
“Velius, get your second in command running things here. You and I are going with the prefect.”
The centurion nodded and shouted his orders to the optio before turning back to the prefect.
“How far are we going? Do we need a horse?”
Ingenuus shook his head, swallowing hard.
“You can take these two horses. Their riders are reporting back to the ala. The … it’s about a mile and a half away, I’d say.”
Fronto and Velius took the reins from the two cavalrymen and clambered onto the horses, kicking their heels and following Ingenuus as he trotted down the hill. The valley was long and shallow, with lush green grass and a great deal more vegetation besides. If it weren’t for the purpose of the ride, Fronto could rather have enjoyed it. The journey was short enough on horseback however and after only a short while Ingenuus reined in ahead of them on a low rise. As the other two came up next to him, he pointed down into the dip.
“That’s just as we found them.”
Fronto and Velius swayed in the saddle for a moment before moving slowly down the low slope and into the grisly scene. The smell was torture and the buzzing of flies was loud enough to make it hard to think.
Half a dozen large wooden stakes, branches even, had been driven into the ground. Tied to each were men; Romans and judging by their tunics, cavalrymen. Their armour and weapons were gone, as were their faces and their arms below the elbows. Their heads had been stripped of flesh, not by animals, but by a rough, knife-like tool. Their torsos had been opened up and the contents allowed to fall out to the ground in front of them in heaps that, despite the several days they had hung there, still glistened. Fronto felt himself growing light-headed and imagined he was probably now as pale as Ingenuus. Velius didn’t look too good either.