Empire's Edge, page 6
Abria smiled, gently lifted away the hand and lowered her mouth toward Megan’s chest. When her soft wet tongue grazed Megan’s right nipple the laughter ceased. She glanced across at him. Oh Jesus, he had his thing out and was stroking it.
Abria left Megan standing naked and sauntered seductively over. She stopped in front of him and dropped to her knees. Megan’s stomach turned over and she thought she might be sick.
Judging by the grin on his face, their jailer friend must have thought it was Christmas or whatever they celebrated. On reflection, Megan decided it was unlikely to be Christmas.
Abria lowered her head, and he grabbed a handful of hair yanking her down. Megan closed her eyes.
The next sound she heard was gurgling. Although, far from expert in such matters, she hadn't been expecting a gurgling sound. With a sense of trepidation, Megan opened her eyes.
The man was slumped back, a bloody stain at his crotch. A look of pure bliss replaced by one of shock and horror. Abria stood up and wiped the blood off the knife in her right hand — where the hell had she been hiding that, Megan pondered?
She smiled, picked up the coins, retrieved the keys from his belt and finally spat on the corpse, hissing, "Pig."
Megan pulled up her dress and grabbed the torch. They had to find Hugh and Dafydd quickly. If their ugly fat friend was discovered while they were still in the building, then they were as good as dead.
CHAPTER 12 - Familiar Faces
Megan washed the light over the bars of the next door; there were two people inside, her heart skipped a beat. She cursed under her breath when the nearest one turned his head in the response to the light — it wasn't them.
She repeated the process twice more, and still no sign of them — had Osian beaten her to it? Abria and Megan halted at the sound of male voices. Multiple footsteps grew louder as the girls listened. Megan scanned her surroundings, a sense of panic welling up.
There was another cell ahead. If empty, they could hide in it, otherwise they'd have to forget about Hugh and Dafydd and make a run for it back to the entrance. Although, given the mess they’d left back in town, who knew what would happen if they returned.
Megan tried the handle, it was locked. Shit they were getting closer.
"Abria," she hissed, mining the action of turning a key. She rushed over, keys in hand. Megan tried to hold the torch steady as Abria inserted the first — it didn't work. Megan looked at the ring, there must have been a dozen on there.
"Hurry," Megan said, her voice strained.
From the other side of the door, a dead man's voice asked, "Megan, is that you?"
Despite the precarious nature of the situation, she couldn't help but smile.
"Dafydd, is that you?" she hissed.
"Aye, it is."
Megan clenched her free hand, punched the air and hissed, "Yes."
Abria tried another key with no luck.
"Is Hugh with you?" Megan asked.
"Hello Mistress Megan."
"I thought I've told you to stop calling me that." Megan was so happy she almost burst into tears.
The rapidly approaching deep voices cut short the celebrations. This was on track to be the shortest rescue in history.
Abria placed another key in the lock. If this wasn't the right one, they were done for.
She turned it to the left and there was a click. She yanked the door open; they dived in and pulled it shut behind them. It was perfect timing; except for one thing . . . the key.
The voices were so close now Megan could make out their conversation.
"So, I said to him, you provide the funds and I'll supply the fighters."
"And what did he say?"
The first man didn't reply.
Megan whispered in Dafydd's ear explaining what had happened. He positioned himself behind the door.
"Why is there a key in the lock? Where is that fat cunnus, Ludicrous? This cell door should be locked."
Dafydd threw his full weight against the door and charged through, followed closely by Hugh.
One of the men was slumped against the opposite wall having taken the full force of the door to the face. Hugh ran forward and kicked him in the side of the head for good measure. Dafydd charged at the second man and caught him in the midriff with his shoulder; they both tumbled to the floor.
"Hugh, go and help Dafydd, we'll take care of this one." Megan and Abria grabbed a leg each and dragged the unconscious body into the cell.
"I have another one for you." A grinning Hugh came into the cell with a leg under each arm, the man's head banged against the floor as he dragged him.
"Not a friend of yours then?" Megan asked, with a smile.
"A bigger prick you couldn't wish to meet," Hugh said, dumping him in the corner of the cell next to the first man. Megan ran at him wrapping her arms around him.
"So good to see you again," she said, tears welling up.
"And what about me?"
Dafydd stood in the doorway looking a little sheepish. Megan walked toward him.
"You," she said, punching him in the bicep. "You died in my arms. I thought you were gone. How did you escape from the walls of Flint Castle?"
He glanced down the corridor. "I'm not trying to avoid your question, but maybe we should leave it till later. At least until we get out of this place."
Megan nodded. "Good point. Let's get the hell out of here, we'll lock the door behind us."
Megan turned to Abria, she was standing in the cell looking nervous.
"Come on," she said, holding out her hand. "It's just Hugh and Dafydd, they won't bite. Oh, I forgot, you've met before haven't you." She gave Dafydd a glare and he averted his eyes.
Once on the other side of the door, Megan slammed it shut and locked it.
Holding the torch aloft Abria led the way back toward the front gate. They passed the open door that contained the corpse of their fat horny friend, but Megan didn't even glance in, she'd seen more than enough of him to last her a lifetime.
It took her three tries to locate the key that opened the front gate and when they were all on the other side, Megan wrapped the chain around the gate and locked it. She went to toss the keys in the bushes, but Hugh stopped her.
"We should throw them in the river," he said and Megan grinned at him.
"So, what next Dafydd?" she asked.
"Well, I would love to know what my half-brother is up to, but I don't think it would be wise for us to head up to the fortress and demand an audience."
"I heard that he wants to take you and Hugh on a gladiatorial tour of Britain."
"To what end?" Dafydd asked.
"To boost morale around the country."
Dafydd looked skeptical, then burst out laughing. "Sounds unlikely."
"That's what I thought, so I figured I'd try to break you out."
"And a fine job you and you lady friend made of it. I must apologize I never did get her name the other night."
Megan frowned at him. "This is Abria."
She turned at the sound of her name and Dafydd bowed extravagantly. She turned her head away, and for the briefest of moments Megan saw the shy, vulnerable teenage girl hidden beneath the veneer she had created to shield herself from the pain of everyday life.
"I suggest we put as much distance as we can between ourselves and the fortress of Deva," Dafydd said.
Hugh nodded. "It won't be long before they discover what has happened at the ludus."
"I wonder if we could borrow a boat?" Dafydd mused.
"Borrow?" Megan asked, with a smile.
Dafydd looked affronted. "You never know, we might bring it back."
"Megan, how cold has it been getting in the evenings?" Dafydd asked.
"Why?"
He stopped. "We're not exactly dressed for cold weather."
Megan looked at him and Hugh. Sleeveless linen tunic and not much more than a loin cloth was not what you might call cold weather attire. Not that she and Abria were much better off. The aim of their outfits had been to seduce, she hadn't given much thought to what would happen after that.
"We could head back into town. If Caitrin is still passed out, we should be able to steal some clothes from there," Megan suggested.
Dafydd nodded. "Worth the risk; as long as no one is alerted to our escape from the ludus we should be able to get safely in and out."
At the junction in the road, they veered right. Was it madness to head back toward the fortress, Megan wondered? What if Septimus had returned?
They had walked no more than half-a-dozen steps when a bell rang out. It made an almighty racket.
Megan turned to Hugh. "Is that coming from the ludus?"
"I think so."
"What should we do?" she asked.
Dafydd grabbed her hand. "Try and make it across the river before troops from the garrison decide to investigate."
He yanked on her arm. "Come on Megan we need to move quickly, but don't run. It'll look suspicious."
With the stadium behind them, they walked along the road running parallel to the south wall of the fortress. Megan glanced up to the battlements but didn't see any soldiers patrolling. The urge to run was almost irresistible. All the while in the background, the blasted bell kept ringing.
CHAPTER 13 - Breakout
A torch light flickered in the middle distance. How long before a guard at the gate investigated the bell? Had they found the dead fat guy yet? Megan figured they'd be screwed anyway if they got caught, but once they discovered him it was a sure thing.
She glanced upwards, still nothing; and then she saw him.
"Guard," she hissed. "On the wall."
"Keep calm; whatever you do don't run," Dafydd added.
Perhaps she didn't hear or maybe didn't understand the words, but Abria broke ranks and ran forward at full tilt.
Like a lion reacting to a fleeing antelope it triggered a predictable response from the guard.
"Hell and dammit," Dafydd muttered. "Let's go." They chased after Abria as the first shout went up.
Twenty yards ahead, one of the huge doors of the southern gatehouse opened. Hugh veered off the road onto some rough ground, effectively cutting off the corner to the road leading toward the river. Megan followed him; it was their only chance.
"Ouch," she squealed, as something poked into her instep; the sandals looked cool but were not built for 'off-road' conditions.
"Hugh, slow down; let Megan overtake you." Taking heed of Dafydd's words, Hugh slowed his pace and Megan shot past him. She couldn’t understand what he was doing. Did he intend to sacrifice himself and Hugh so she and Abria could escape? Surely not after they'd gone through all that trouble to rescue them.
Megan glanced back; the first of the Roman guards was closing on Dafydd.
He turned and yelled in Latin. "Escaped slaves. Help me catch the bitches."
That wasn't very complimentary, Megan decided, but clever. She redoubled her efforts to make it look realistic.
Abria was no more than thirty yards from some buildings. They looked like houses.
A door opened, and a man stepped out holding a lit torch; from behind Megan there was a yell.
"Grab those slaves."
The man was middle-aged; quite a big guy, perhaps like Septimus he was an ex-soldier, Megan pondered? He stepped into the road; Abria reached into her clothing — did she still have the knife?
The man laid the torch on the ground and crouched into the ready position, like a wrestler about to start a bout. When she was close, Abria stepped to the right then pushed off in the opposite direction. The maneuver was almost NFL running back standard, but it didn't fool him. He grabbed her and they tumbled to the floor.
For several moments they grappled, then Abria rolled away and jumped to her feet. The man lay motionless on the ground. The dark stain on his tunic answered Megan’s question about the knife.
She heard the familiar sound of a sword being unsheathed and glanced over her shoulder, the Roman soldier had the torch in his left hand and a short sword in his right. He was no more than ten yards away. The grim expression on his face suggested that he had no intention of capturing escaped slaves and returning them to their owners.
Dafydd pointed at Megan and shouted, "I'll grab that one, you take care of the other."
Dafydd veered towards her, cutting across the path of the soldier; the man hesitated and few steps behind him, Hugh accelerated and kicked through the back of his legs sending him crashing to the floor.
Under the impact, sword and flame went flying. The solider barely had time to lever himself up onto his elbows before Hugh's foot hammered into the side of his head.
Dafydd patted Hugh on the shoulder. "Nice work youngster. We have to move quickly though, we don't have much time." As if to reinforce the point, shouts resonated in the still night air — more soldiers were on the way.
Dafydd prodded the body with his foot while washing over the man's face with his torch.
"Probably an old solider," he said, a hint of accusation in his tone. Megan glanced at Abria, standing off to the side. Surely Dafydd couldn’t blame her for what she had done?
"Did you see which house he came out of?" Dafydd asked.
Megan pointed toward a small, whitewashed building.
"Search it for cloaks, blankets, anything that will help keep us warm; and in the name of all that is holy, be quick about it." Megan and Abria set about ransacking the dead man's home.
The haul was not impressive; there hadn't been much in the way of possessions period. Megan had a rough wool blanket draped over her arm and Abria carried a cloak.
Dafydd looked less than impressed. "Is that all?"
Megan nodded.
He shrugged. "It'll have to do."
Megan glanced toward the fortress; multiple torches bobbed in the darkness — they were coming.
CHAPTER 14 - On the Road
The last of the buildings gave way to trees and Hugh yelled out as something flashed across his field of view. "In the trees, there is something in the trees."
"Keep going, we have no time to stop, if they catch us we're dead," Dafydd shouted.
"He's right, Dafydd. Look," Megan yelled. With a rustle of leaves, the branches parted.
The group skidded to a halt and four pairs of eyes anxiously scanned the treeline. With a guttural snort, a big hairy pig raced across their path.
In between taking in big gulps of air, Megan started laughing, just a chuckle at first, but it soon become a belly laugh. Hugh and Abria joined in and even Dafydd succumbed for a few moments, before a not too distant shout sobered him up.
He waved his torch. "The bridge, come on let's go."
As Megan’s sandals hit wood, she realized she'd been across this bridge before, well not this exact one, rather its modern-day equivalent. Her dad had dragged her and her mom to see something; what the hell was it?
"A shrine," she exclaimed.
"A what?" Dafydd yelled.
"After the river, to the right. A shrine to some Goddess or other; there should be a path leading off the main road."
Megan glanced at the river as they thudded over the bridge. The dark water looked cold and foreboding, but for a brief second, she wondered if they shouldn't take their chances and jump in.
Twenty seconds later and that option was gone — they were on the other side of the bridge.
Megan shook her head. Even the narrow path leading to the shrine was paved. Say what you like about the Romans, you couldn't fault their thoroughness and efficiency.
With the shrine barely visible in the light cast by the torch, they left the path and almost immediately were among trees.
For five minutes they struggled through the tangle of branches until Dafydd called a halt.
"Hugh, lay the torch behind that thick bramble bush," he hissed. With the light barely visible, they crouched on their haunches trying to even out their breathing.
Megan wondered if the soldiers had seen them veering off the path? Hopefully they were still chasing them down the road.
The four waited in tense silence as the minutes ticked by.
Finally, Dafydd stood up. "It appears we've shaken them off, but I'm sure they'll be back when they realize we're not on the road. We need to put some distance between us and the shrine. Let’s go."
They set off, walking this time not running; the last thing they needed was for someone to turn an ankle or worse.
For now they had escaped, though having killed two people, Megan imagined Roman justice would be no less harsh than medieval if they were caught. Involuntarily she shivered.
"Are you cold Megan?" Hugh asked; she smiled and shook her head. In her skimpy outfit she was a little chilly but wasn't about to admit it.
Ω
There were dogs all around, big ones, little ones; try as she might Megan couldn't get away, her legs were heavy, they were licking her face, her arms.
She awoke with a start; Hugh was shaking her. "We need to go."
She heard a distant bark. "Dogs," she muttered.
Hugh nodded. "They must be using them to track us."
Next to her Abria stirred. They'd spent the night beneath the blanket. Between it and their body heat it had been just warm enough to sleep.
Megan had rather hoped to end up with Hugh, but Abria refused to sleep under the blanket with Dafydd. Megan could understand that, given their history.
Megan dragged herself up and a rumbling stomach reminded her how long it had been since she’d last ate. They moved off parallel to the river. As much as she trusted Dafydd, she wondered how they’d get out of this alive.
She got in step with him. "How did you end up in the ludus then?"
"The short version of the story is that a boat picked me up off the coast of Flint and I was given to the ludus owner in lieu of an unpaid gambling debt."
"And the long version?"
Dafydd smiled. "Will have to wait; at least until we can no longer hear those blasted dogs. Do you still have the pendant I gave you back at your grandmothers?"
