Eborius’s face was clammy and pale.
‘Good,’ said Cassius. ‘This won’t take long. Stay close to the building to give us the best chance.’
‘I can see him,’ said Indavara.
‘You better go,’ said Cassius. ‘We’re with you.’
Eborius took a deep breath, then walked outside. Indavara was positioned by the right-hand doorway. Cassius moved carefully to the left and found himself a decent spyhole. Eborius ventured only a few yards from the barn.
Centurion Carnifex guided his horse — a big, sturdy black stallion — into the clearing at a trot. Sitting back in the saddle, he brought it expertly to a stop five yards from Eborius. He was again clad in the bronze muscle cuirass and Cassius noted that even his helmet was of an old-fashioned design, also bronze, with angular panels to protect the cheeks and neck. The cut-off crest was a bizarre touch, especially as his entire kit was in pristine condition. He glared down at Eborius.
‘Got your message. What’s this bullshit about Procyon and Mutilus?’
‘It’s complicated. We need to talk.’
‘Reckon I said all I needed to say to you three months back. Thought you were seeing sense at last — staying out of my way.’
‘Believe me, I’d prefer not to talk to you, but what I heard today couldn’t wait.’
‘You really think I’m going to take your word over theirs? They’ve been with me since before you popped out your mother’s hole.’
‘They were overheard discussing these murders. Seemed to know a lot more about it than they should.’
This piqued Carnifex’s interest sufficiently to get him out of his saddle. With a grunt, he slid to the ground and tied his horse to the tree stump.
Cassius turned to Indavara. The bodyguard reached for his stave. Cassius put one hand on his sword handle, even though he wasn’t planning to use it. Face pressed against the cold stone, he watched the centurion flick his reins back over the saddle then approach Eborius. Though the younger officer was four or five inches taller, the breadth of Carnifex’s chest, shoulders and neck made him seem the bigger man.
Much to Cassius’s relief, Carnifex took off the helmet, wiping the sweat from his brow with one big paw. In the middle of his forehead was a deep, yellowish, circular scar; it looked like an arrow wound. There was a lumpen solidity to Carnifex’s face and his eyes shone with the contemptuous arrogance of a man with nothing to fear. Cassius now noted the cause of his limp: a messy pink scar running from his left knee down the side of his leg.
‘What are you saying?’ he growled.
‘It seems to me that if Procyon and Mutilus know something about these killings, maybe you do too.’
Carnifex took a step towards Eborius.
Sweat was running freely down Cassius’s flanks as he turned to Indavara again. He told himself that the bodyguard could handle the old centurion and walked out of the doorway.
Carnifex spun round to face him, his frown deepening.
Cassius surprised himself by managing to get some words out. ‘Good evening, Centurion.’
He forced himself to look at Carnifex, not Indavara, who was creeping up behind him.
‘Who-’
Sensing danger, Carnifex turned just as Indavara swung the stave at his head. He still had the helmet in his hand and threw his arm up. The stave glanced off the helmet but caught him on the back of the head with a solid crack.
Cassius was in no doubt that the blow would have been enough to knock most men into unconsciousness or worse. But even as the skin opened up and blood ran down the cropped grey hair, Carnifex stayed upright. He staggered, shot a fiery glare at Eborius and threw his helmet at him. The weighty lump of bronze struck the younger officer on the side of the head. He stumbled back into the barn then slumped to the ground.
Still reeling, Carnifex turned to face Indavara, who had the stave up high, ready to swing once more. The centurion mumbled something, then reached for his sword.
‘Hit him again!’ yelled Cassius.
Indavara moved to his right and swung a second time. This blow caught Carnifex on the base of his neck, just above the rim of his armour.
The centurion lurched forward, then back, and seemed about to topple over, but he somehow remained on his feet. Blinking and gulping in air, he reached for his blade once more.
‘Again!’ yelled Cassius.
Indavara launched a full-blooded swing at the centurion’s chest. The stave struck the armour but the sheer impetus of the blow knocked Carnifex clean off his feet. The old soldier crashed to the ground at last, arms and legs splayed wide. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, then shut.
‘Shit me,’ said Indavara. ‘What a beast.’
‘Get the ropes. Quickly,’ said Cassius as he ran over and knelt by Eborius. There was a nasty inch-long gash on the centurion’s cheek, but his eyes were open and alert.
‘Bad?’ he asked.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Cassius, ‘the ladies love a scar.’ He grabbed Eborius under one arm and helped him up. ‘All right?’
‘Think so.’
Cassius watched him carefully before letting him stand alone. Eborius gazed down at Carnifex, then put his hand to his cheek and looked at the blood on his fingers. He took his canteen off his belt and sloshed water over the gash.
Indavara returned from the barn with the pack, several lengths of rope already in his hand.
‘He is breathing, I take it?’ Cassius asked.
Indavara dropped the rope next to Carnifex and bent over him, ear by his mouth. ‘Yes.’ He pulled the centurion’s dagger from the sheath and took off his sword belt. ‘Let’s turn him over.’
By grabbing his main belt and his right arm, they manoeuvred Carnifex on to his front. Even taking the armour into account, Cassius couldn’t believe the weight of the man. Indavara pulled his wrists together and placed one on top of the other.
Eborius came forward and looked thoughtfully down at Carnifex again.
‘You did well,’ said Cassius. ‘The worst of it’s over now. Can you bring the cart round?’
Eborius was still staring. Only the blood that trickled from his cheek on to his tunic broke his reverie. ‘What?’
‘The cart.’
Eborius nodded and walked round to the back of the barn.
By now Indavara had Carnifex’s wrists well tied. He moved on to the feet, lashing them together at the ankle. ‘We gagging him too?’
‘Not right now,’ replied Cassius. ‘He might choke while he’s out.’
‘That would be a shame.’
Eborius hauled the cart into the clearing, then set about removing the saddle from his horse.
‘What about Carnifex’s mount?’ Cassius asked when he was done.
Eborius reached into the back of the cart. ‘One of my men was killed by the Maseene a few weeks ago. I found these close to the body.’
He dropped three wooden javelins on the ground.
‘Ah,’ said Cassius. ‘Good idea.’
‘Can you yoke my horse?’
‘No, go ahead,’ replied Cassius, not feeling it necessary to explain that he didn’t know how. ‘I see what you have in mind.’
While the others worked, Cassius jabbed the javelins into Carnifex’s saddle. The horse didn’t like it much but soon there were several notable indentations in the leather. One javelin actually became stuck, so he left it there.
‘Nice job,’ observed Eborius as he threw his own saddle up into the cart. ‘We’ll set it loose here,’ he added, walking over and untying the stallion’s reins. ‘It’ll probably find its way back to the mansion.’
Eborius led the horse over to the track and gave it a slap on the rump. Whinnying, it charged away towards the Via Roma.
‘Think they’ll search the town?’ asked Cassius, flinging the other javelins into the grass.
‘They’ll search everywhere, probably including the ship, but I’ll try and make sure they leave the north end of town to us. That old hut is as good a place as any, and it’s close if you have to leave suddenly.’
‘I presume we’ll take the bridge back across the gorge?’
‘No, we’ll cross the Via Roma and head west. The other bridge is five miles away but we can come around the town, then cut across the Via Cyrenaica and down to the shore. I doubt we’ll see anyone given the hour. We better hurry or we’ll need torches to light our way.’