Roman Boy, page 10
“Thank you,” said Hadrian, his voice echoing off the fort’s walls. “I was a soldier like you before I became an Emperor, so when I am with the Legions I feel that I have come home. There is much to do here in Britannia, but I know I can rely on you to do it.”
As he spoke, he slowly ran his eyes over the ranks of legionaries. Lucius was suddenly filled with dread, sure that the Emperor would spot him. But Hadrian’s eyes swept past without pausing. Perhaps Gaius had been right after all, Lucius thought. Hadrian was almost a God, so why should he remember a boy he had met only once? The great Emperor of Rome had far more important things to worry about.
Hadrian talked a while longer, and the soldiers cheered again. Then he dismounted and Commander Caneta led him to the Principia, followed by Gaius, Sicarius and the other two men – and suddenly Lucius realized why they were familiar. The last time he had seen them their heads had been covered by hoods. But they were the men who had been with Sicarius that night at The Dragon’s Nest tavern in Londinium…
Lucius found out later from Optio Quintus what was going to happen now Hadrian had arrived. It seemed they would be welcoming more guests – the chieftains of the northern tribes had agreed to come to Vercovicium and talk to the Emperor.
“All the chieftains?” Lucius asked. “Does that mean Caturigos as well?”
He was standing beside Optio Quintus on the fort’s wall, looking down into the courtyard. It was full of horses, a cavalry unit – the Ala Asturiana – having just turned up, summoned as reinforcements by the Emperor. There were five hundred of them, each man carrying an oval shield, a lance and a spatha, a kind of long sword that was good for slashing. Like the Emperor, the Ala Asturiana were from Hispania too.
“Who knows?” said Optio Quintus, shrugging. “It will be a waste of everyone’s time if he doesn’t come, though. He’s the only one who really matters.”
The chieftains began to arrive the next morning. They came riding to the fort with small war-bands, each tribe making a camp outside the northern wall. Optio Quintus told Lucius the names of the tribes – the Carveti and the Epidaii from the far north, the Selgovae from the west, the Taexali and the Novantae from the east. By the third night their campfires spread across the darkness beyond the fort like stars in the sky.
Queen Belisama of the Brigantes came riding into the fort to be greeted by the Emperor himself. A cohort stood lined up behind him, with Lucius and Alexios in the front rank. Lucius saw that she was tall and strikingly beautiful, with long black hair and green eyes, and she rode a white horse. Half of her war-band were tough-looking women warriors, and she herself had a sword in a jewelled scabbard on her belt.
The chieftain of the Votadini, however, made everybody wait one more day before he arrived. He rode with his war-band into the fort as if it belonged to him, Lucius thought. Caturigos wore plaid trousers but was stripped to the waist, and his body was covered in the most elaborate tattoos Lucius had yet seen. His hair was flame-red, like that of the gladiator in Rome, and he had the icy grey eyes of a wolf.
“Well, I hope the Emperor has made all the right sacrifices,” Alexios whispered. “Somehow I don’t think this Caturigos is going to be an easy man to talk to.”
Others might be difficult too, Lucius thought. Optio Quintus had already told him it was clear several of the chieftains still had their doubts. But Optio Quintus had also said that the Emperor didn’t intend to do much talking anyway – he was going to let Rome’s wealth speak for itself. Hadrian’s plan was to give them lots of gold and silver, and promise them more if they truly submitted to the power of Rome.
“And what happens if we choose our freedom instead?” said Caturigos. His words were overheard by the legionaries guarding the Emperor in the room where he met the chieftains, and of course soon spread like wildfire round the whole fort.
“You know the answer to that,” said Hadrian. “But I am offering you peace.”
“I have seen your peace,” said Caturigos. “You steal our land, you kill us and you make us slaves. But be careful – perhaps soon we will do the same to you.”
Caturigos left the same day, riding out of the fort with his war-band. Lucius watched from the northern wall as the other chieftains started to leave too.
Five days later the north erupted into war.
NINETEEN
MOMENT OF TRUTH
LUCIUS KNEW SOMETHING was wrong when a messenger came riding into the fort early that morning, his horse breathing heavily and covered in sweat. The soldier leapt from the saddle and ran to the Principia, abandoning the horse behind him.
Soon the Centurions and the Optios were summoned to the Principia as well – and then the order came to close the gates and prepare for an attack. Men poured out of the barracks, most of them pulling on their armour and helmets as they ran up the stairways to the battlements. Lucius led Alexios and the rest of his men to their battle positions on the northern wall, and saw that Optio Quintus was already there.
“The truce is over,” he said before Lucius could ask him what was happening. “Caturigos has persuaded half the tribes to take the war-trail against us.”
The messenger had brought reports of attacks on the Wall forts in the west. None had fallen so far, and all the attacks had been beaten off, but it was clear more were coming. This time it seemed Caturigos really did mean to challenge Rome.
“So it looks like we’re going to see some proper action,” said Alexios. “It’s lucky that we’ve got the Emperor here to lead us… He will know just what to do.”
Lucius agreed – it was fitting for the Emperor to be leading his Legions in war. Yet Lucius was also sure that Gaius was right: Hadrian’s presence on the frontier had nothing to do with the Goddess Fortuna. It seemed that the Emperor’s destiny was linked to the fates of Gaius and Lucius himself. But how? And where was it all leading?
There was no attack that day, or the next. More messengers arrived, bringing news of uprisings south of the Wall, and the Emperor sent messengers in return. Lucius could feel the tension rising in the fort; the men were unsettled and grim-faced. The guards on the battlements stared out at the empty heathland, hands tight on their spear shafts and sword hilts. The bright weather gradually shifted to a heavy, leaden sky, the air thick and clammy. The wait became stifling, almost unbearable.
On the third day the Emperor toured the fort to encourage the men, and to oversee the deployment of the weapons he had brought with him from Eburacum in case things hadn’t gone well in the meeting with the chieftains. There were two catapults, large, wooden-framed machines that hurled boulders at attackers; and several scorpios, big mechanical crossbows that fired long iron bolts. Seeing such deadly weapons on the walls of the fort made everyone feel a little more confident.
Afterwards, Alexios couldn’t stop talking about the few words the Emperor had spoken to him. Lucius had kept out of the way, standing behind the others with his head down whenever Hadrian came close. But it turned out that there was to be no escape for him. Later that day, Optio Quintus told Lucius and Alexios they were on the roster to guard the Emperor – their sentry duty would begin at midnight.
The fort was quiet when they left the barracks later that evening and headed for the Principia. It was a moonless night, the only light coming from the few stars sprinkled across the black sky and the flaming torches in iron brackets on the fort’s walls. Lucius could just make out the outlines of the soldiers on the battlements, like shadows walking, or how he imagined the dead must look in the Underworld.
At the Principia a few of the Emperor’s staff were still on duty, waiting to be summoned if he needed anything, or perhaps wanted to send a message. Lucius and Alexios climbed up to the guard room, their armour clinking with each step.
Two sentries were standing on either side of the door to the Emperor’s room. There were only a few small oil lamps in sconces on the walls of the guard room, so it was quite dark. But Lucius could see that the sentries were keen to be relieved.
“Don’t get me wrong, lads,” said one, speaking quietly. “Guarding an Emperor is easy, just boring. We haven’t heard a peep from him since he went to bed.”
“You don’t think we’ll see him, then?” said Alexios, sounding disappointed.
“I doubt it,” said the second man. “If you ask me, being an Emperor looks like hard work. Poor old Hadrian is probably tucked up in there sleeping like the dead.”
Lucius drew in his breath sharply. It seemed a strange, ominous thing to say. Just then he heard a distant low rumble of thunder, so maybe the Gods agreed.
Soon the men they had relieved were gone, and Lucius and Alexios were alone in the guard room. They took up their positions on either side of the Emperor’s door.
“Isn’t this amazing, Didius?” said Alexios. “We’re guarding the Emperor!”
Alexios chattered on, but Lucius stopped listening, thinking instead of how far he had come on the path Hadrian had talked about that day at the Temple of Apollo in Rome. It seemed so long ago… There was another rumble of thunder, and through the window Lucius glimpsed a far-off flicker of lightning. Then he heard something else – the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs leading up to the guard room.
Lucius tensed, and even Alexios fell silent.
Suddenly a great peal of thunder boomed directly above the fort, and a huge flash of lightning flooded the guard room with light. It revealed three hooded figures in long black robes coming through the doorway. Lucius gasped, convinced they were the three priests from his terrible dream. He stepped back, his armour clattering against the wall behind him, and felt for his bulla through his armour.
“Halt! Who are you?” said Alexios, scowling. “Do you have business with the Emperor? You must not disturb him unless it’s for a very good reason.”
“Oh, I have the best reason of all,” said someone behind the hooded figures.
Another man stepped forward from between them. He was wearing a black cloak too, but the hood was pushed back – and Lucius felt very uneasy when he saw it was Gaius. “Hello, Lucius,” he said. “The time has come to fulfil our destinies.”
Lucius stared at Gaius, then got a grip on himself and turned to look properly at the other three. Then he saw that it was Sicarius and the two men from The Dragon’s Nest. Sicarius pulled back his cloak, gripped his sword hilt, and grinned.
“What are you talking about?” Alexios muttered, suddenly looking very confused. “I think you’ve got the wrong man, friend. His name isn’t Lucius, it’s Didius—”
“Silence!” Gaius hissed at him. “So, Lucius, I have at last worked out why the Gods have brought us together here. You are going to let me and my men go through that door. Then we will kill Hadrian, and I will have myself proclaimed Emperor.”
Now it was Alexios’s turn to gasp, his eyes wide with shock. He whipped out his sword, and Sicarius and his men did the same, the blades glinting in the lamplight.
“Er… I think we should probably call for some help, Didius…” Alexios muttered under his breath, shooting him a glance. “Didius, did you hear what I said?”
Lucius had heard him, but Alexios’s voice was coming from a long way off. The guard room somehow seemed to be receding, leaving only Gaius and Lucius facing each other. Stranger still, Lucius realized he felt no fear; only cold, hard fury.
He sensed a divine presence in the room too, the Gods gathering around him, granting him the strength and courage to face this moment of truth. His only regret was that he should have understood this had been in Gaius’s mind all along.
“Don’t worry, Lucius,” said Gaius. “I will say a savage sneaked into the fort to assassinate Hadrian, then escaped before we could catch him. Your fellow soldier can help us, or we can kill him too. I have many supporters here and in Rome, and we will soon deal with any opposition. And of course, you will then have your chance to become a man of power and influence like me – just as you hoped. Or would you rather stay in this wasteland as a nameless nobody, a lowly legionary like all the rest? Stand by my side, Lucius, and you can even have your real name back.”
Gaius tipped his head to one side and fixed his eyes on Lucius’s in that hawk-like way of his. Lucius thought of their conversation on that terrace in the house on the Esquiline Hill all those months ago… Now here was Gaius offering him everything he had so badly wanted then. But things had changed – he had changed since he had come to Britannia. He was proud to be a legionary, proud to follow the Eagles. And he had sworn to protect the Emperor – even if it meant giving his life for him.
“Why would I want to be anything like you, Gaius?” Lucius said. “I see you now for what you truly are, a traitor to the Emperor and to Rome, and a coward who gets others to do his dirty work. No wonder you didn’t last long in the Army.”
“Very well, you have chosen your fate,” said Gaius, his face a mask of pure hate.
“Kill them both, Sicarius, and be quick about it. We haven’t got all night.”
“It will be a pleasure,” Sicarius said softly. “Are you ready to die, boy?”
He leapt forward, thrusting his sword at Lucius’s chest. Lucius raised his own sword just in time and managed to beat Sicarius’s blade away. The other two men set upon Alexios, but there was absolutely nothing Lucius could do for his friend.
He was too busy fighting for his own life – and for the Emperor’s.
TWENTY
PLAYTHINGS OF THE GODS
SICARIUS CAME AT Lucius, thrusting his sword at his chest again and again. Lucius managed to parry each blow, but soon his sword arm was trembling with the effort. Then Sicarius aimed at his head, and Lucius dodged, the blade nicking his cheek and glancing off his helmet before the point ground into the stone wall behind him. Their faces were so close Lucius could smell the garlic on Sicarius’s warm breath.
“Not so full of yourself now, are you, boy?” Sicarius hissed, his cold blue eyes full of mockery. “You should have let that old fool kill me when he had the chance.”
Suddenly Lucius remembered how easily Valerius had defeated Sicarius outside The Dragon’s Nest that night in Londinium, and the thought seemed to give him the extra strength he needed to shove Sicarius away. And then, as they stood there facing each other, Lucius realized he had been running from Sicarius almost from the day he had arrived in Britannia. The time had come to deal with him once and for all.
“I’m glad I didn’t,” Lucius said, smiling. “It means I can kill you myself.”
He quickly stepped forward, cutting and slashing at Sicarius, making sure he kept his opponent off balance, as Valerius and Optio Quintus had taught him. Sicarius clearly didn’t know where the next stroke would be coming from, and he soon began to look a lot less confident. Lucius could see that Alexios was also fighting bravely, still managing to hold off both the other men, and even going onto the attack.
“You won’t get past us!” Alexios growled. “For the Sixth, and for the Emperor!”
Sicarius glanced at him, taking his eyes off Lucius only for the briefest of instants.
But it was more than long enough for Lucius to thrust his sword deep into Sicarius’s chest and out through the other side. Sicarius looked surprised, his eyes wide, and he slowly sank to his knees. Lucius pulled out the sword, placing a foot on Sicarius’s chest and shoving him backwards to provide the necessary leverage.
Alexios and the other men stopped fighting, and the room fell strangely silent, everybody staring at the dead body in a growing pool of blood on the floor. Just then, the door to the Emperor’s room flew open and Hadrian himself emerged. He was wearing a simple blue tunic and was bare-legged, with no sandals on his feet. But he held a sword in his right hand like a man who knew how to use a blade.
“In the name of all the Gods, what is going on here?” said Hadrian, his powerful voice filling the room. Then he noticed the body on the floor, and his eyes narrowed. “He’s one of your men, isn’t he, Gaius? Why is he dead in my guard room?”
For a moment Lucius was sure that Gaius would start talking, making excuses and smoothly telling lies. He did open his mouth, but Alexios was too quick for him.
“He came with his men to kill you, Caesar!” said Alexios, pointing his sword at Gaius. “He wants to seize your throne – we heard him say it, didn’t we, Didius?”
Lucius nodded, too full of feeling to speak. But Hadrian wasn’t looking at him – the Emperor’s eyes were fixed on Gaius, who quailed under his gaze.
“Is that so, Gaius?” said the Emperor, smiling. “Well, we’re evenly matched, three on three. Why don’t you try your luck? Let the Gods decide between us…”
Gaius stared at him, his face full of fear. Then he turned and ran out of the room, followed by his surviving men. Alexios ran after them, yelling for help. The Emperor went to the door and looked down the stairs, and Lucius could hear more yelling outside. His eyes were again drawn to the body on the floor, and suddenly he was sick, bending over and retching till there was nothing left in his stomach.
“Are you all right, soldier?” said the Emperor, coming over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You are young, so I’m guessing this is your first kill.”
“It is, Caesar,” said Lucius, standing straight and turning to him. “I caused a tribesman’s death in battle, but this is the first time I have killed with a sword.”
“It is hard to feel good about sending a man to the Underworld, even if he was trying to do the same to you. But you have saved my life, and I thank you.”
He paused, and peered more closely into Lucius’s face, searching his features, a memory clearly rising from the depths of his mind. And suddenly Lucius wanted the Emperor to remember him, whatever the consequences for his future might be.
“We have met before, Caesar,” he said. He felt a trickle of blood on his cheek and wiped it away with the sleeve of his tunic. “Gaius is my stepfather, and he brought me to your palace. Your Augur made a prophecy for me at the Temple of Apollo.”
