‘Beautiful,’ he said, and Ferox sensed a reluctance to hand it down, but if there was, then the prince swiftly got over it. The centurion’s fingers closed around the familiar bone handgrip. He did not trust any of the others, and was sure this was a trap of some sort. He had not expected to be given a weapon, least of all his own sword. Somehow the gesture made him even more suspicious. ‘Wait here until I take a look.’ Hoping they would obey, he ducked his head, thrust the torch ahead of him and walked on.
The floor was soft mud, the passage little more than a foot and a half wide, and so many booted and bare feet had passed along it that it was hard to make out individual tracks. The walls were flecked with stone and slate, and in places carved out of more solid rock. There was a harsh smell faint behind the damp, musty odour.
There was a soft thud as someone jumped down behind him.
‘You should wait, lady,’ he said without looking around.
‘What?’ Claudia Enica tried to make her voice as deep and manly as possible, and Ferox was glad he had guessed correctly. No one else followed her.
‘Come on then.’
The passage went straight for ten paces, then turned left, making a long curve, before turning back to the right. It was higher now, just high enough for him to stand almost upright and only now and then brush his hair against the roof. Just around the first bend a skull grinned at him from a niche carved into the wall. He waited, hoping for a nervous gasp when the lady came around the corner. In the event, it was barely more than a soft hiss of surprise, but he smiled to himself anyway. After the next turn there was another skull. This time he heard no hint of surprise. The smell was getting stronger. He coughed, for it stuck in the throat, like smoke, yet it tasted bitter. Ferox was not sure whether he saw dust or smoke or both in the air. Water dripped from the roof.
It grew narrower, and at times he had to turn sideways and edge along. His torch was in front of him and when he glanced back Enica was a faint shape. Still, he suspected Vindex would have made some comment about it being too narrow for her.
‘Do you want me to go first?’ she said as he paused for just a moment.
‘Wait.’ The floor in front of him was smooth, unbroken by any footprint. With difficulty he swapped his torch and sword. Leaning over, he prodded the earth with the long tip of the gladius. He sidestepped forward and then did it again. The third time the point drove through the thin straw and mud covering a small pit. In the centre was a stake, perhaps no more than six or seven inches, but sharpened to a point and no doubt smeared with filth. The army called a trap like this a lillia, after the vague resemblance to the lily flower. For the Silures they were gnat’s bites. They did not kill, at least not quickly, but a man with a hurt foot was slower and made others cautious.
‘Watch where you tread,’ he whispered.
Ferox found three more lilies, the last where the narrow passage made another sharp turn, but then grew wider before another abrupt corner. He still had the torch behind him and the sword in front. Even with his body masking a lot of the light he could see that there were footprints on the earth; a clear trail, one person walking towards them. Enica stepped over the last of the little stakes and was only just behind him. He glanced back. Her skin seemed very pale in the torchlight and her face was eager.
‘What now?’ she asked.
‘Hold my sword.’
‘What here? Now?’ Sometimes the sense of humour of the Brigantes was tiresome, although he could imagine Vindex cackling at this, especially since such vulgarity was surprising in a lady.
With difficulty and a few grazes he brought his right hand back and held the sword for her to take. She leaned forward, brushing against his left arm as it held the torch. Then he eased that forward and lowered it close to the floor in front of him. There was nothing to see. Ferox edged forward, feeling exposed in the wider passage. He kept the torch low, inching along. The Lord of the Hills always said that to set a trap or escape one you had to outthink the other man. They had just come past the lilies into a passage that was wider and easier. He doubted the philosophers with their logic ever considered such a problem, but to him it was natural to expect them to feel relieved and relax their guard.
There it was. Just before the next corner a cord was stretched across barely an inch off the ground, where someone holding a torch at normal height was unlikely to see it. He knelt down next to it and beckoned to her.
‘Tread lightly, lady, and where I point. First tread in the prints.’
Enica glared at him with the assurance of a noblewoman who gave rather than received orders. Then she obeyed. Although wider than before, the passage was still little more than two feet broad so that she would have to squeeze along. Enica was just behind him now. She thrust his sword into the earth so that he could take it back when ready.
‘Step high, and watch my hand.’ He half expected another joke, but there was none and the lady did as she was told. The torch was in front of him, over the cord and he waved it until Enica nodded to show that she had seen the danger. He arched his hand over to point to where she must tread. She was close, the hem of her tunic brushing against his face. Her hands held her two swords up high to stop them snagging, and she lifted her leg up and across to plant it firmly beyond the cord. So close, it was hard not to admire her legs and Ferox had to bite back a comment. He must have spent too much time with Vindex.
‘Now very carefully,’ he said, and gently touched her other leg. She shivered, and that surprised him, but they both needed to concentrate. Foolish though it sounded, it was so easy to set off a trap like this by relaxing too soon. Enica stepped forward and he steered her other leg across, pushing a little so that she kept it higher for just a little longer. ‘There,’ he said. A moment later he took his hand away. The air was growing thicker, and she coughed.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I would have walked into this.’
Ferox retrieved his sword and with great care stepped over the cord. On the wall around the corner was a heavy frame of wood mounting long spikes. He saw ropes and guessed the cord was connected to them, intended to shift the big stone used as a counterweight and swing out with force to strike anyone in the passage. Although it looked old, someone had taken care to repair it and he had little doubt that it would have worked.
It was getting harder to breathe and the air felt thick. The dripping was louder, almost like voices coming from the rows of skulls set into both walls. Ferox blinked. It was getting harder to see clearly, as if they were walking through a cloud. He went in front, searching the ground, but raising the torch to look at the walls and ceiling as well. The floor was once again a mass of prints, which was encouraging. The passage wound and twisted, and they turned sharp corners, going slowly and carefully. He started to feel that the skulls were mocking him. They must have passed hundreds of them by now and the power of this place was growing so great that he feared it would crush him.
There was light ahead, and as they came closer he saw faint clouds of vapour drifting in it. The stench was overwhelming and he wondered whether he would ever be free of the taste. Enica stumbled beside him, and when he lifted her he swayed.
‘Come on,’ she said, her words slurred. She pushed him aside and rushed towards the light.
‘Wait!’ Ferox wanted to shout, but it came out as a croak. He went after her, almost panicking because he feared she would vanish. The skulls laughed louder. He ran, and then burst into a large chamber, with doors opening in the walls and a floor made from little stones pressed into the earth. In the centre a fire burned, giving off the vapour. Enica was on her knees in front of it, panting hard. As he came in the smoke almost choked him. He staggered, but pushed on and dropped the torch to grab her by the shoulder, dragging her away from the fire. It felt cooler to the side, the air clearer, and although she tried to push him away, he pulled her hard, sliding her across the floor until they were both on the far side. Then he fell beside her, struggling for breath. The air was fresher and he managed to push himself up on his arms.