The eyebrows went up. ‘An oak tree where?’ The lack of a response from the youngster was eloquent enough to have Dardanies actually burst out laughing, for it obviously implied ignorance, Flavius responding quickly that he had left more than one sign as to the location.
‘Visible in the dark?’
Tempted as he was to lie, Flavius had to tell the truth, which he did with a shake of the head. Even with a full moon and complete starlight he had no certainty that the sign he had left, his breastplate, would be visible and nor did he know if the group of pebbles had been found and either disturbed or removed.
‘Do you know how many oaks there are on the banks of the Danube?’ Another shake of the head: to even guess would be foolish, which explained the mordant tone of what came next. ‘If I blindfolded you, cast a javelin full force into a hayrick, then asked you to find it, what chance do you think you would have?’
‘It is vital that I have those letters.’
‘Being vital does not make it possible.’
‘I do not ask that you accompany me, what I do ask is that you give Ohannes and I the time to seek it out and recover it.’
‘Have you thought to ask me, Master Flavius?’ Ohannes snapped.
‘I hope you will aid me in this, as you have in everything else, Ohannes, but if you decline …’
The Scythian produced an expression, the one with which he had responded to statements like that from Flavius before, aiming to tell him he was getting above himself. Stubbornness won out over being respectful.
‘If need be I will go on my own.’
‘One of these days, Master Flavius, you are going to issue that threat an’ I am going to let you do as you wish.’
‘But not now?’
Ohannes looked pointedly at Dardanies. ‘Not for me to decide now, is it?’
They exchanged a hard mutual stare for a second, before the Sklaveni exited, his voice soon joining those of the elders who were still in disagreement.
‘They’re off again,’ Ohannes scoffed, as the voices went up a notch.
‘How can I convince you that those letters are vital, Ohannes?’
‘You can’t, ’cause I don’t see things the same way as you. It’s all very well seeking to preserve the memory of your papa, Master Flavius, but it makes no sense, as I have sought to tell you more than once, to get yourself killed in the process. That is my opinion and has ever been. Matters will take their course an’ if you can affect them all well and good, but to do that you must have breath in your body and blood running through your veins. So staying whole is the most important thing and that is what you must set your mind to doing.’
The two were staring at each other – it seemed as if they were silently seeking some truth as yet unstated – when the light that permitted this was doused by the re-entry, through the doorway, of Dardanies and the elders.
‘They wish to question you.’
Which they did, showing that in at least two cases their Latin was of a standard that did not require Dardanies to translate. Only one struggled and he seemed the least inclined to think the letters of any importance. Yet it was obvious the other pair saw matters differently, very much in the way that Flavius had sought to persuade Dardanies. As the questions flew back and forth the youngster realised just how right his father had been.
These people wanted peace and security and it was not from fear. Along with the decorations they wore there was clear evidence that these grey-hairs had been active warriors and they had the scars to prove it. The notion of a body that might impeach and bring to a halt the depredations of Senuthius was as attractive to them as it had been to Decimus Belisarius. Finally, questioning over, they left the hut again, to once more continue their discussions outside, until a peremptory command was issued for Dardanies to join them. He was gone for not more than a minute and on returning he gave Flavius a look, accompanied by a miniscule shaking of his head that lifted his spirits.
‘These letters of yours are things my elders wish to see.’
‘So we must find them.’
‘Sadly yes, which means we must risk our bodies by seeking out the spot where you hid them, for that must be undertaken in the light of day.’
‘I have not felt that God was on my side since the day my family was cruelly slaughtered …’ Flavius paused then, suddenly aware that he had made no enquiries as to how many of the Sklaveni tribe had taken part in the raid that led to their deaths. ‘Were you part of that?’
‘Part of what?’ Dardanies asked guardedly.
‘The majority of those who raided across the river were, I think, Huns …’ He had to pause; Ohannes had gifted him with a sharp jab in the ribs, but he was not to be put off. ‘But not all. How many of your tribe took part?’
‘Some.’
‘And you?’
‘It matters not,’ Ohannes insisted.
‘It matters to me,’ Flavius said, looking right at the Sklaveni, ‘especially if I am to put my trust and my life in your hands.’
If Dardanies was made uncomfortable, which he seemed to be, he soon found a way to deflect that with a question of his own. ‘Does it not occur to you, Flavius Belisarius, to ask why such a raid was ever mounted?’
‘Hun greed.’
‘Truly they are that, but was it enough?’
‘I do not follow.’
The reply was given in a mordant tone and one that implied some kind of knowledge. ‘No, you do not.’
‘You have yet to answer my question, Dardanies,’ Flavius said, his mind too fixed on his own preoccupation to pursue any other avenue. ‘Did you join with them?’
‘It was too good an opportunity to let pass.’
‘A chance to kill Romans?’
‘You praised my knowledge of Latin. How does a warrior of the Sklaveni get that?’
‘By being captured?’ That got a nod. ‘Were you a slave?’
‘Perhaps you are not a fool after all, Flavius Belisarius. Perhaps one day I will show you the scars you get from a Roman master who takes pleasure in punishment. And let me tell you, before I do, that I have never met anyone so devoted to the God you just sought to invoke when you spoke of your family.’
‘How close were you to my father and brothers when they were …?’ He could not finish, could not say the word ‘killed’.
‘Nowhere near, but do not doubt if I had been I would have used my weapons in the same manner as the Huns who did cut them down.’
‘And you have been chosen to get me to somewhere safe.’
‘I have been commanded to do so and it is not a duty I relish.’
‘Perhaps I might have to pay the price for your hatred of Rome?’
‘No, Master Flavius,’ Ohannes interjected. ‘This man will not harm you.’
‘I might, fellow, but only if we meet after I have discharged the task given to me.’
‘How can you be sure, Ohannes?’
‘Perhaps he will tell you.’
‘Better coming from you, Greek.’
‘Neither Greek nor Roman,’ the Scythian replied forcefully. ‘Not that it makes much odds, since I was a soldier of the empire.’
Then he turned to Flavius. ‘If he was minded to cut your throat, Master Flavius, he would have taken on the mission he has been given with glee. I might not know a word of his tongue but I can read a face and what I saw was a man in despond.’
‘Enough,’ Dardanies snapped. ‘If we are to take a boat out on the river and be in plain sight of the southern bank, you Flavius Belisarius need to be disguised and that includes hiding those bruises on your face that make you look like an owl.’ He laughed then, a loud hoot. ‘Might be best to dress you up as a woman.’
There was sheer pleasure for Dardanies then, provided by the reaction those words received; Flavius, on the cusp of manhood, was deeply offended.
The disguise was flour mixed with water and plastered around his eyes, added to a hooded smock that, pulled well forward, hid much of his face from view. It was less that he might be spotted from the riverbank than that they were bound to pass other boats on the constantly fished-upon river, where a sort of truce existed. Each person seeking to cast a net, whichever side be they from, was, unless open conflict was in progress, left in peace.