Legionary

Chapter 6

Gallus sat cross-legged by the campfire, the next to useless parchment map of the Bosporus peninsula dangling from his fingertips as he gazed at the dancing flames. Several paths forked out through the woods before converging on the westernmost fort on the peninsula neck. He lifted a spit from the fire and tore a chunk of mutton off with his teeth. Each path was a roll of the dice, and the first roll had been crushing. Their numbers now dictated that they had to play it safe.

Only sixty-two men were left of the original detachment of one hundred and ten that had set off from the Aquila. They had prepared a miniature square of palisades and ditches in this clearing, and were operating a rota of double watch, as he had feared. But there was no way he would allow them to be caught like sitting targets again, Gallus swore to himself, his teeth grinding through the tough meat.

Glancing over to the huddle of off-duty legionaries, Gallus loosened his frown as he tuned into the unmistakably gruff tones of Zosimus; the ox-like Thracian regaled the group with a tale of two Cretan women, their strange sexual habits — and his indulgence with both of them after knocking out their husbands. Bursts of throaty laughter pierced the crackle of the fire at every twist of the sordid anecdote. The giant soldier and his comrades displayed the steely ruthlessness he loved them for — the bitter experience of the day undetectable so soon after the ambush.

These men had lost friends and trusted colleagues today, and their own lives had hung in the balance, yet they were still together as a unit. Gallus sighed at the sparkle dancing in the eyes of his men; years of bloody loss could toughen even the softest of hides.

Gallus caught Felix’s eye as his optio wandered over. ‘I can’t take any more of the filth they’re coming out with. Honestly, enough to make you heave up your grub, that is.’

Gallus tried to wipe the vexation from his face, nodding towards the log on the opposite side of the fire.

‘And I reckon you could do with talking over what happened today,’ Felix ventured.

Gallus relaxed his frown and nodded. The optio was more attuned to the mood of the others in the century, and he could read Gallus like a book, despite the iron glare. Damn him, Gallus smiled inside. He began before the Greek sat down. ‘An in-and-out recon mission this was supposed to be. Half my men are lying back there in the woods, without a single one of those whoresons even taking a scratch.’

The optio thumped down with a sigh, his weary eyes fixing on Gallus across the fire. ‘Sir, we’ll send back a party tomorrow to bury our comrades. What happened today frustrated all of us, but not one of the men would have done anything differently. Defence was our only option, and it was down to you that so many of us survived.’

Gallus shook his head with a wry chuckle. ‘It’s just galling — I’d give my last nummus to hear that those horsemen had cut down every one of those whoresons further up the path.’ He straightened up, picking up the splintered, blood tinged arrow shaft from his pack, scrutinising the iron tip in the firelight. ‘We need to address the bigger issue here, Felix — just who are we dealing with? Those archers were Gothic going by the arrowheads. But those horsemen,’ he sighed. ‘Who were they? And why did they give us, a legionary column in the middle of nowhere, a body swerve? We would have been easy pickings for them.’

Felix nodded, his gaze falling into the flames. ‘I think the Gothic archers were tracking us from the moment we entered the forest, waiting until we were in the thick to shower us with their arrows. The horsemen I can’t be so sure about, stocky buggers, from the east I reckon…’ The optio’s voice trailed off.

‘Yes,’ Gallus nodded, ‘not what we signed up for.’

‘Not just that, sir. I think I’ve seen their like before, when I was posted out to the frontiers in North Armenia. That place was riddled with little market towns and trading posts, and there were all sorts of barbarians coming in from the steppe to barter hides, meat, slaves, spices and gems. Mithras knows where they picked it all up from. Probably best not to know.’

Gallus nodded, his lips curling in bemusement. ‘Just what the empire needs — another race to grind on her borders.’ He ran his hands through the retreating peak of his hair. ‘I smelt a rat as soon as Nerva delivered the brief. He was nervous — knew something was wrong. His hands were tied by Dux Vergilius and whoever else had the emperor’s ear over this one. This stuff is over our heads — and outside our remit, Felix, and I don’t think we can deal with it now. We’re going to complete this mission, and then get out of here. But first we have other business to take care of. Nerva said no detours, but…’

‘The Goths?’ Felix raised an eyebrow.

Gallus nodded. ‘Time for revenge.’