Rubria tried to help the wounded Centurion but the random movement of the boat meant she struggled to maintain her balance. She crawled to his side as he struggled to get to his knees.
‘Oh, Dragus, keep still,’ she cried and placed her arms around him.
‘Get me one of the oars,’ he gasped, pointing down the boat.
‘You can’t row,’ she said, ‘You are hurt.’
‘No need to row,’ he said, ‘Just pass me one.’
Rubria did as she was asked and dragged it to where Dragus was crouched. With her help he fed it over the stern, and, when most of it was in the water, he pointed to the rope now lying near the seat.
‘Get the rope,’ he said, ‘We need to tie it down.
Together they tied the oar in place, and, within a few moments, the boat straightened out, aided by the occasional swipe of the makeshift rudder. As soon as they had left the danger area, Rubria turned her attention to Dragus, who was obviously in excruciating pain.
‘Oh Dragus,’ she said, ‘Are you okay?’
‘We have to get this blade out of me,’ he said,’ I can’t move through the pain.’
‘But if we do, you could bleed to death,’ she said, ‘We need a Medicus.’
‘I have had such wounds before,’ he said, ‘And seen far worse. I don’t believe it has pierced any major organs but we can’t wait. We have to get it out. Make some bandage and do as I say.’
Rubria tore strips of material from her tunic and placed them on the seat.
‘Make them into pads,’ he said, ‘And listen very carefully. There is a danger I may lose consciousness so you have to know what to do. When you remove the knife, there will be blood, lots of blood. It is important that you stem the flow. As soon as the knife is withdrawn, place the first pad over the wound and press hard. The pressure should stop the flow. If it doesn’t, place a second pad on top but do not remove the first. Do you understand?’
‘What if that doesn’t work?’ asked Rubria
‘Then place more on top and press hard until the bleeding stops.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’ she asked.
‘Then I will die!’ he said simply. ‘If that happens, tip my body over the side into the river. I will not be able to help you further but at least you may be safer. The Praetorian are looking for two people not a single woman. You must get to shore and lose yourself in the suburbs.’
‘You won’t die, Dragus,’ she said, ‘I won’t let you.’
He smiled weakly.
‘Now, we must do it,’ he said, ‘I can’t stand this pain much longer.’
She nodded grimly and manoeuvred to a position where she could take a grip of the knife’s hilt.
‘Ready?’ she asked.
‘Do it!’ he said, and screamed out in pain as she slid the razor sharp knife from its bloody, sheath.
For what seemed like several minutes Rubria fought to stem the flow of blood with her makeshift bandages. Dragus passed out and by the time she had stopped the bleeding, she wasn’t sure if he was unconscious or dead. When she finally realised he was still breathing, albeit faintly, she made him as comfortable as possible with his head in her lap and steered the boat downstream into the unknown. It had been a long night.
Dragus opened his eyes slowly, struggling to remember where he was. He felt someone wipe his brow and he turned his head to see who was holding the sponge. The haze cleared and he saw the piercing eyes of Rubria gazing down at him.
‘Hello,’ she smiled, ‘Welcome back.’
Dragus tried to respond but was only successful in emitting a throaty rasp and broke down into a throaty coughing fit.
‘Hang on,’ said Rubria, ‘I’ll get you a drink.’
She disappeared from view and Dragus felt himself being lifted into a seated position by unseen hands. The Priestess returned and offered a clay beaker of clean water to his lips. He tried to drink but the flow was controlled by Rubria.
‘Slowly,’ she said, allowing him a sip at a time.
‘Where am I?’ he asked eventually, his voice a lot clearer now he had slaked his thirst.
‘We are safe, Dragus,’ she said, ‘We are in the house of a friend. You have been ill with the fever but have fought it off. For a while we thought you would die.’
‘We?’ asked Dragus, ‘Who else is here?’
The face of an unknown woman appeared before him.
‘Hello,’ she said nervously, ‘My name is Rose.’
‘Rose helped me back in Nero’s palace,’ explained Rubria, ‘She saw us make our escape from the Praetorian and followed us downstream. Just as well, really for the boat snagged on a fallen tree and I did not know what to do.’
‘Where are we now?’ asked Dragus.
‘We are in the port of Ostia,’ said Rose, ‘I have a friend who lives here and we are in the cellar of her master.’
‘Does he know?’
‘No sir,’ answered Rose, ‘He is away on business.’
‘What happened to me?’ asked Dragus.
‘Don’t you remember?’ asked Rubria, ‘After you came around you were okay for a while but then the fever caught and we thought you would die.’
‘It was the wound,’ said Rose. ‘It became infected and needed cleaning out with hot water. Luckily we caught it in time and I think the worse is over.’
‘Are you a Medicus?’ asked Dragus.
‘No, sir, but there was a slave in the palace who was training to be one and he used me to practise on.’
‘Lucky for me he did,’ murmured Dragus.’ So, what happens know?’
‘We can’t stay here,’ said Rose, ‘My friend’s Master returns tomorrow and she can’t risk him finding out.’
Dragus sat up and winced at the pain in his back.
‘Steady,’ said Rubria, ‘The wound is clean but we don’t want to start the bleeding again.’
‘How long have I been here?’ asked Dragus.
‘Three days,’ said Rubria.
‘Three days?’ gasped Dragus, ‘I can’t believe we haven’t been found.’
‘All units are fighting the fires,’ said Rubria, ‘I don’t think they can spare the men.’
‘That won’t last long,’ winced Dragus, ‘They don’t look kindly on the desertion of one of their own. It won’t be long before they instigate a search in every town from Rome to Ostia. We have to get out of here.’
‘I agree,’ said Rubria, ‘And suitable arrangements have already been put in place.’
‘What arrangements?’
‘Rose has arranged passage out of here.’
‘Where to?’
‘I don’t know, but there is a ship that leaves in the morning and Rose has arranged for us to be on it.’ As if on cue, a loud knocking echoed around the cellar and Rose opened the door to a weak chinned man wrapped in a quilted cape.
‘I am Stellus,’ he said, ‘And I understand you seek passage from Rome.’
‘We do,’ said Rose, ‘Come in.’ The man entered the gloomy room and walked over to the recumbent Centurion.
‘Is this the cargo?’ he asked, glancing between Rubria and Dragus.
‘What do you mean, Cargo? gasped Dragus lifting himself up onto one elbow
‘Yes,’ interrupted Rose, ‘Can you help us or not?’
‘I can, but it will cost you.’
‘We can pay,’ said Rose. Stellus walked around her and stared down at Dragus.
‘Who is he?’ he asked.
‘You don’t need to know,’ said Dragus, instantly weary of the man.
‘On the contrary,’ said Stellus, ‘If I am going to hide two fugitives on my boat, the very least I require is to know who it is I am hiding.’
‘You listen here,’ snarled Dragus, but before he could continue Rose grabbed the arm of Stellus and led him to a corner. A whispered conversation took place and a leather purse changed hands. Stellus stared again over to Dragus lying on the makeshift bed.
‘I will return within the hour with two of my crew,’ he said, ‘They will take you to my ship. You will stay in the hold with the rats until we leave the Mare Nostrum. Until then I want the both of you well away from prying eyes.’
‘You mean the three of us,’ said Rubria.
Stellus laughed briefly, tossing the purse up and down in his hand.