Vengeance

CHAPTER TEN

If sleep brought welcome relief and restored both Flavius and Ohannes it did not bring comfort, but they had a whole day with enough of that fisherman’s catch remaining to feed themselves and to begin to think how to proceed, which would not be easy. That did not become any more simple after a second peaceful night, when the only threat came from others fishing too near the shore for comfort. Daylight brought back to the fore the real concerns.

To camp on the northern bank of the Danube for any time without their presence being observed was impossible; even in deep woods they would be seen by someone and that was if they stayed still, not an option if there was a need to hunt and fish in order to eat. They would be spotted, too, from the river trying to tickle their supper, for they lacked the means to cast a line. Snares would have to be set and a certain amount of movement had to be undertaken to put those in place, as well as to seek out larger creatures.

Easily edible food to steal, like chickens, were more likely to be found where folk were settled than in the wild, but too much theft of that kind would soon result in a reaction. In order to eat what they caught, a fire would have to be lit so it could be cooked, all of which put them at risk of discovery and from folk unlikely to be overly friendly.

‘If they don’t cut our throats straight off,’ Ohannes intoned, sat on a fallen and rotting tree trunk facing the river and Flavius, ‘they will find out who you are and that will mean a bit of gold for selling you to the Huns. Worse still, they might sell you to Senuthius.’

When Flavius showed an immediate impatience to recross the river, Ohannes had the task of restraining him, on the very good grounds that it was not yet safe to do so; indeed, the old man was far from sure it would ever be that.

‘And what if that commission from Constantinople comes and goes without our even knowing?’ Flavius demanded.

‘You put too much faith in that, to my mind.’

‘And where else would you have me place it?’ That got the youngster a look; it also got the older man an apology. ‘I did not mean you.’

‘Never thought you did,’ came the less than convincing reply, followed by a sigh that hinted at understanding. ‘You want revenge and that is only natural, but it might be in seeking blood you end up as dead as your family and what good will that serve?’

‘I must somehow contact my mother and I cannot do that from here.’

‘Aye, that is a worry. If they had a cross in mind for you, I fear they might have something of the like for her should she choose to ignore your request and arrive at a time inconvenient.’

‘Which would be any time before the commission arrives.’ Flavius looked to the trees under which they sat. ‘I might be able to see something from the upper branches. Make out if the coast is clear. Men still searching I could not miss.’

‘With that shoulder of yours, you might just as like end up with a broken neck.’

That got a slow swing of the arm and a wince. ‘It’s getting better, good enough to row.’

‘Give it the time it needs, Master Flavius, for if you do go back, an’ I cannot see how I can stop you, then you best be fully fit for fighting.’

‘My sword arm is good.’

‘That’s not enough in a real scrap, young sir,’ Ohannes hooted. ‘Folk would have you believe that battle is all pretty sword and spear work, but it is nothing like. It’s gouge, bite and kick as much as anything, with the need for trickery to make sure you don’t fall and the fellow afore you does. I once needed to crush one head with a stone.’

‘If a sword is used properly …’

‘And who says you’ll get the chance? I used to watch you and your fellows being instructed, thrust here, parry there, how to use your shield. Never saw anyone tell you to put the boss of that hard into the groin of the boy you were contesting with, wouldn’t be proper that.’

There was a scoffing tone in the old man’s voice that set Flavius on edge; he considered himself the best of his group – only rarely did he ever have to give ground to another – and he felt it was incumbent upon him to say that if Ohannes had been watching their practice he would have observed that.

‘Very lively it was too, but as much use to you in a true contest as a stalk of corn. I say that, and if your papa were here he would say so too.’ That saw the young head drop, and brought forth an apologetic hand from Ohannes, to tap his good shoulder. ‘Didn’t mean to pain you, lad.’

‘Remind me, Ohannes,’ Flavius insisted, unable to hide the fact that he was close to tears again.

‘Recall the way we fought those two thieving sods that tried to rob your house, Master Flavius.’

‘I wish you would stop calling me that, it makes me sound like a child.’

It was a good job he was not looking at Ohannes then, for he would have seen in the old man’s eyes a reaction which indicated that was exactly how he saw him; there was, however, nothing in the voice to let the youngster discern that opinion.

‘What I am saying is this, that from what I could see, an’ I admit it were not much given I was far from looking at what else was happening, for I had my own concerns, you fought real foul.’

That allowed Flavius a smile. ‘Which would have got me a swipe of the vine sapling from those who instructed us.’

‘It gets praise from me!’ came the empathic reply. ‘Them fellows were there to teach you to look and act noble-like. Yet there’s not one of them ever saw it as the right way to be going on.’

‘How I wish we could ask them.’

Ohannes crossed himself and murmured a blessing for men who had died fighting with his old and now deceased master. Yet his voice was strong as he continued and he picked up and made a mock threat with his spear to drive home the point.

‘All that fighting fair is nice for an arena and a crowd content to do without blood. It will not serve where it’s a choice between you and another. Fight dirty I say again, ’cause winning is the only thing that counts.’

‘Put up the spear,’ Flavius said in a soft voice, looking over the old man’s shoulder.

‘Trouble?’

‘Lots.’

‘Too much?’

Flavius nodded and the spear was laid gently on the floor of fallen leaves at his feet, Flavius wondering why Ohannes spun it first so the point was aimed towards the trees at his back. That done he turned, at no greater pace, to see on the edge of the small clearing in which they had made camp, a line of men in amongst the trees, several with bows already strung with arrows.

‘Best stand,’ he said, ‘arms well out.’

Flavius did as he was bidden, moving to one side so Ohannes did not mask him in any way. Making a quick judgement based on their clothing, he issued a greeting in the Sklaveni tongue, nervous that there would be some kind of reply, for it was very close to all he knew of their language, a few common words. As it was, all he got was a look of deep curiosity from a man who stepped forward, his stance and attitude, or perhaps it was the way the rest looked to him, marking him out as their leader.

Flavius put him as older than any of his brothers, over thirty summers, and he was well built, with a broad pair of shoulders and hands hanging loose at his side, yet still they looked capable of action. Bareheaded, the face was broad, the nose flattish, the eyes a deep brown and steady, and while his non-archer companions had their swords out he did not. The silence did not last long, even if it seemed so, and what followed was a set of guttural words that neither Flavius nor Ohannes would understand, before he changed to good Latin.

‘I have had to lie to my men about who you are.’

‘And who am I?’ Flavius asked, feeling a knot in the pit of his stomach.

‘You are the son of Decimus Belisarius and there is a man over the river, a senator of the empire, who sent a message not a day past, willing to pay handsome for your body, dead or alive, if you are found.’

‘And if I say I am not?’

That got a laugh, head tilted back, though not a very humorous one, more the kind that enquired if he was taking him for a fool. ‘Flavius Belisarius is who you are, even down to those two shiners of yours, which those who took the message were told to look out for.’

‘Not much point in denying it,’ Ohannes hissed, which if it was too low to be overheard, still drew the other man’s eye.

‘In the company of a slave, too.’

‘I’m no slave, nor ever likely to be!’

‘Like to hear you say that to a Hun with a whip.’

‘I might prefer death to that.’

The man nodded and glanced at the spear that lay at the feet of the old soldier. Given their eyes were locked, the youngster could not help but look from the one to the other, the Scythian determined, the other fellow slightly amused. Yet it took no great imagination to understand the meaning of the exchange; Ohannes was implying he might just have time to lift and cast that spear before he was taken by arrows and there was no doubt at whom it would be aimed.

His possible target spoke quickly in his own tongue, which had several bows lifted, the arrow points lined up on the Scythian’s chest. ‘Even if death is certain, something tells me you might still try.’

‘Spare the boy if I do.’

‘No need to kill him.’

‘If you intend to hand me over to Senuthius,’ Flavius croaked, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, ‘then I would rather you did.’

‘A noble death?’

‘Better that than what the senator has in store for me.’

‘Take out your sword slowly, and if you have a knife that too, then lay them on the ground. No one is going to die here and nor will it be decided what is to happen when we leave this glade.’

‘Ohannes?’ Flavius asked, unsure what to do.

‘Obey, Master Flavius, there’s no choice.’

‘Why did you call me that?’ came a hiss.

‘Look into his eyes,’ Ohannes replied as he stepped away from the spear, Flavius drawing out his sword and dropping it. ‘He has no doubt who you are.’

Without another word the Sklaveni leader spun on his heel and began to walk away. There was no need for him to actually say they had to follow nor did either think it prudent or useful to ask. The others fell in alongside and behind them, a couple staying to gather up their weapons. The way the party moved told Flavius these people knew these woods well, there being no deviation from a course that paid little attention to thinning undergrowth. The man merely barrelled his way through bushes and ferns, with Ohannes softly counting off the number of paces.

‘Never know,’ came the whispered reply, when the youngster asked him why.

The hut they came to was well hidden by foliage. Made of sods of turf interleaved with rough strands of wood, it was roofed in evergreen tree branches that had it blend into the surroundings. It had to be a hide for hunting, a place in which a body of archers and spearmen could wait until the forest forgot their presence. As they were ushered in under an opening, only the Latin speaker followed them, the rest remaining outside, and the first thing he did was to take from Flavius the small sacks of coins tied to his belt.

‘I dare not take you to the town. I must leave you here and under guard, for if I do not, word of your capture will get across the river before the sun dips tonight.’

‘You are not going to hand us over to Senuthius?’

‘The decision is not mine. Food will be brought to you and I advise you not to try for an escape, because the men I leave behind will have orders to kill.’

‘Am I allowed to know your name? You know mine.’

‘No harm in that, Flavius Belisarius, my name is Dardanies.’

‘And who are you, what are you?’

That got a wry smile. ‘Am I not a mere barbarian?’

‘You speak good Latin.’

‘One day you might find out why.’

As soon as he exited the hut a wickerwork panel was placed across the entrance, plunging the interior into darkness, the only sound Flavius could hear the breathing of his companion. He was dying to ask what they should do now, until he concluded that would be useless; they were trapped and prisoners. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted, he realised there was some light coming in through the gaps in the roof, not much, just enough to see the outline of Ohannes, who spoke in a low and incensed tone.

‘Didn’t take Senuthius long to set these particular dogs on us, did it? Happen that boatman set the riverbank afire, spreading alarm with talk of evil spirits. I should have killed him.’

Flavius did not want to dwell on that, or to say that had Ohannes tried he would have endeavoured to stop him. Why kill a man for the mere fact of his being in the wrong place?

‘I wonder what has been offered for our heads.’

‘It will be a price hard to resist.’

The movement was felt rather than seen, that and the sounds of Ohannes tapping the walls, the injunction soon issued that Flavius, like he, should look for something loose, a thick branch or a stone that they could employ as a weapon.

‘If we are to be given food, then it will be handed over by one of the men he has left to guard us.’

‘Who will be expecting us to try something,’ Flavius replied, the pitch of his response less than encouraging. ‘It might be best to wait and see what that Dardanies discovers.’

‘You would put your fate in the hands of a Sklaveni?’

‘He does not know what to do with us, which means that even if Senuthius has offered a sizeable reward, there are people unwilling to take it. My father dealt with these people-’

The interruption was sharp. ‘That I know! Did I not accompany him?’

‘I never heard him claim them as bad and I doubt you did. To his mind they were more sinned against than wicked.’

‘If he’d had the men he needed your papa would not have crossed the river to talk.’

‘If he’d had the men he needed he could have reined in Senuthius.’

The wicker panel was pulled aside, flooding the hut with light, but only long enough for the pair to see a wooden board with bread and a hunk of cheese upon it thrust in, then sent across the packed earthen floor by a foot, that followed by a hand setting down a jug right by the entrance. Then it was back in place and they were in darkness once more.

‘Might as well eat,’ Ohannes said, the gloom in his voice obvious. If that was the way they were going to be provided for, the chance of catching the giver off guard was near impossible.

Time soon lost all meaning, even if they could see through the gaps in the roof, and the shifting brightness, the way the sun moved in the sky. Having found nothing that would aid them to escape, both sat on the floor in quiet conversation, Flavius learning more of the older man’s past and the service he had seen with his father than he had been gifted hitherto, it being a story, he suspected, replicated all over the fringes of the empire.

Life could be harsh for the folk that lived within its borders, yet Ohannes was sure it was worse without. As the youngest son of a large brood, and with uncles who were less than fond of anyone that might split what little the family owned, horses and cattle, there was nothing for him to inherit when his father died, which left the choice of labouring for others or crossing into the Roman Empire and once there taking service as a soldier.

‘For your citizens are too soft to do what fighting needs done on their own.’

‘Tell me about serving with my father.’

‘What’s to tell, Master Flavius? That he was a good soldier, yes, that he did not rise as high as he might, that he had occasion to use his whip on my back more than once?’

‘He whipped you?’

‘As he did to anyone who deserved it, an’ there were many of that ilk.’

There was a sense in the tone of Ohannes’s voice that had Flavius ask him if he was smiling.

‘I am, as I ever do when I recall some of the mischief I got up to when I was a young buck. What man can resist women and wine, Master Flavius, for I never could and the fellow who had to keep us up to our mark was the likes of your papa. He was only a decanus then, mind – once he got a leg-up to a higher rank using the sapling himself did not go with his dignity.’

‘You sound as if you hold no grudge.’

‘Why would I, me being the sinner, as all soldiers are, given half a whiff. Your papa was fair, and there is not much more you can ask than that, for there were others of his rank who used the whip for pleasure and there was many another punishment they could mete out if they were so minded, which meant they had to worry about a spear or a sword in their back when we got into a close and busy fight.’

‘Their own men would kill them?’

‘Didn’t happen often, but happen it did.’

Ohannes kept talking and Flavius kept listening, for there was nothing else to do, and given his years, not much for the youngster to relate. The pitch of the voice changed, depending on whether Ohannes was talking of fond memories or things that had upset him. He did not object to being questioned, as when he related the fights he had taken part in, Flavius eager for detail on the two major campaigns in which he had served.

‘What can the likes of me tell you? We are told to march, so we march, we are told to camp so we make camp. If you’re in the front rank as you assemble for a battle you see your enemy right enough, into his eyes as you close, but most times you don’t know what you’re doing or why. It’s what I said to you afore. Staying alive is what matters and let the folk that have to worry about what it’s all for …’

The hut was again flooded with light as Dardanies entered, followed by a trio of much older men, who judging by the torques and ornaments with which they adorned themselves, were of a higher tribal rank than the man who had taken them captive.