“I recommend only Kaia and I enter the gate,” Falco said. “I sense great danger in there.”
“One does not need your special gifts to feel the danger,” Cassius said. “I agree. The two of you go, but I think it best to take a third with you. I will wait nearby with a cohort.”
A legionnaire approached, holding a mess tin of the same food the troops were eating. Another way Cassius was different from other officers Falco had known. On campaign, Cassius always ate the same as his troops. And he always ate next to last, Falco holding on to the right to eat last, insuring all the men had eaten; it was the way a true leader operated. Cassius accepted the tin. Another soldier approached with Falco and Kaia’s food. It was one of the many ways Cassius had begun to earn the respect of the troops. Another was his refusal to ride a horse. He had walked, just as his soldiers had, moving up and down the column all day long, getting to know his men.
Just after dark, there was a commotion on the southern side of the camp, and Falco hurried there, arriving as one of the patrols they had sent out was allowed to pass. The young tribune in charge was obviously agitated.
Falco searched his memory for the man’s name. “Falvius. What news do you have?”
Falvius jumped off his horse. “Barbarians. Massing to the south of us.”
“Come,” Falco indicated he should follow, and they went to the center, where Cassius was resting on a thin blanket. The general was up by the time they arrived. A small fire blazed nearby, and he warmed his hands over it.
Falvius snapped a salute, which Cassius calmly returned. “Report, Tribune.”
“General, there is a force of barbarians to the south of us.”
“The proper format for such a report,” Cassius said, calm as a rock in response to the tribune’s excitement, “is to be specific. How many, how far, and what are they doing?”
“At least five thousand. And we saw more heading toward the camp. It’s a day’s march south of here. They were camping for the night, but they were astride our trail. They’re following us.”
“Any cavalry?” Falco asked. He could sense Kaia’s presence nearby and spotted her just outside the circle of light thrown by the fire.
“Some horses,” Falvius said, “but most were on foot.”
Did you leave men to watch?”
“Yes, General. One contubernium with our swiftest horses.”
Falco watched the general consider the situation. They had faced it before, especially in Germany. Every time a legion crossed the Rhine, it was usually unopposed for several days until the locals could gather their forces. Then the enemy was usually behind the legion, between it and the empire, meaning the Romans would have to cut their way out to return home.
Cassius nodded at Falvius. “Good job. Go get some food.”
When he was gone, Kaia stepped forward into the light.
“We have company,” Cassius said to her.
“I’ve sensed them gathering all day behind us,” she said.
“And you didn’t think to inform me?” Cassius asked.
“Would it have made a difference?” she asked in turn. “They are halted for the night. And they are not anxious to engage you immediately. They want to outnumber you at least two to one, and it will take a day or so for that strength to gather from the villages farther away. They think you are the vanguard for a larger Roman force to bring this land into the empire.”
“You’re reading their minds at a distance?” Cassius asked.
“No. It is common sense.”
“I agree,” Falco said. “We have at least a day.”
“They’ll fight us, but not that.” Falco nodded his head in the direction of the gate. “It would seem they do not know their real enemy.”
“They fear the darkness,” Kaia said. “They think it comes from the gods. Maybe they think by killing us they will appease the gods who they believe started the darkness.”
“I fear it also,” Cassius said. “And we don’t know what kind of enemy it is, nor do the local people, I suspect. It is easier to fight what you know than the unknown.”
“Can we fight it?” Falco had turned to Kaia.
“I do not know,” she replied.
“We best get some rest,” Cassius said. “We’ll need it in the morning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ariana woke to a gentle tap on her shoulder. In the darkened cabin of the Air Force C-130 cargo plane, Miles was leaning over her. “We’re approaching McMurdo Station,” he said.
It had been a long flight to New Zealand in the Learjet with several refueling stops along the way. They’d even been forced to switch out the crew to get fresh pilots halfway to their goal. Once in New Zealand, they had switched over to the Air Force cargo plane that Foreman had arranged to transport them south.
Miles was sliding up the covers on the small portals, letting bright sunlight in. Ariana pulled her seat upright and peered out. White-capped ocean was below as far as she could see. She spotted a large iceberg, at least three miles long and half that in width. She knew that recently there had been several major bergs spawned off the Ross Ice Shelf, along the edge of which lay McMurdo Station, the largest settlement in Antarctica.
Ariana went forward, opening the door to the cockpit. Directly ahead loomed Mount Erebus, towering over both the Ross Ice Shelf and McMurdo Station. A steam plume came off the summit into the cold, clear Antarctic sky. She knew the mountain was named after one of the ships in James Ross’s expedition that discovered the volcano in 1841.
“We’re on approach to McMurdo,” the pilot informed her. “We’ll be landing in ten minutes.” The C-130 was equipped with skis bolted on over the wheels, allowing it to land on the forbidding terrain below them.
Ariana nodded and went back to the cargo bay. She sat down at the laptop that had a satellite link and accessed the web. She brought up the latest report from MEVO, Mount Erebus Volcano Observatory. MEVO was a joint venture run by both the New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology and Victoria University in Wellington, New Zealand. It continuously monitored the volcano using geophones, gas emission detectors, and seismic recorders. During the short period of relatively mild weather, geologists made the dangerous climb up the mountain’s slopes and checked out the crater, in which a convicting lava lake was constantly brewing.
“Better buckle up,” Miles advised as the plane abruptly banked.
Ariana leaned back against the red cargo webbing that lined the wall of the plane and made up the seats. She could feel the air pressure shift in her ears, and then the plane touched down, bounced, and began sliding.
Twisting in the seat, she could see outside. A tractor with a red flag flying from a pole flashed by as the plane gradually slowed. The pilots turned the craft and headed toward the tractor.
“You can go back with the plane,” she told Miles.
The security man smiled. “I don’t think your father would approve. Besides, I like seeing a job through to the end.”
“I don’t know what the end is going to be,” Ariana said.
“That’s what makes this interesting,” Miles said. He tossed a parka, over pants, and gloves at her. “Better put these on. It’s going to get very cold very quickly,” he added as the crew chief hit a lever and the back ramp of the plane began opening. She stepped into the over pants and pulled the suspenders up over her shoulders. Freezing air swirled in, and Ariana zipped up the parka. The tractor appeared behind the ramp, and men scrambled on board, off-loading supplies on a large sled that was hooked to the tractor. Two more vehicles with large, enclosed cabs were behind the tractor, approaching the plane.
One man in a red parka came forward to Ariana.