“She said we need to get him to drink some of this as soon as possible, even if it means waking him.” Lita said, “So that’s what we’ll do.”
Grattius looked over, “Alright,” he sat up, “come on then I’ll hold him up, better cool it down with some cold water though first hadn’t you?”
“The hotter the better she said, it’s not bubbled completely so it should be alright now. Come on then lift him up.” Lita replied.
Between the three of them they managed to prop Varro up, he looked pale and his skin was clammy, cold, although he still had sweat on his brow. He tried to open his eyes aware that they were doing something but then closed them again.
“Come on Varro you need to help us to help you.” Brenna said pushing the damp hair from his forehead. Lita poured some of the green fluid into a wooden cup and placed the edge near his lips under his nose, it wrinkled.
“Told you it smelt like shit didn’t I? Even he thinks it does and he’s asleep.” Grattius said propping his centurion up, “Come on wakey wakey, just for a moment.” Grattius said as bleary eyes opened a little. “That’s it now open your mouth and take a sip, its medicine and it’ll help to make you feel better.”
His lips parted a little and Lita tipped the cup but as soon as he tasted its contents his head shot back and he screwed his face up and began coughing.
“I hope they’re not trying to poison him.” Grattius said.
“Don’t be so stupid, if they’d wanted us dead, we would be already.” Brenna said.
“Mm I suppose,” Grattius replied, “right come on then Centurion, let’s have you.”
With a lot of patience and repeated attempts and despite Varro’s condition and his obvious disgust at the contents of the cup, they eventually got him to drink it all. Lita put the pot containing the rest of the brew on the table.
“We’ll give him some more before we go to sleep.” She said.
Brenna finished cooking the chicken stew and then found them some wooden bowls near the frame holding the bows and they ate their meal in relative comfort in a warm roundhouse.
Grattius stirred in his sleep, he was enjoying a dream, or so he thought. His mind’s eye showed him wrapped in warm furs, on a relatively comfortable bed inside the roundhouse where they had sought refuge. To the side of him were the forms of two sleeping females and beyond them, slept Varro. He drifted through images, all of them lit by the flickering light of the fire, occasionally a slight crackle broke the near silence and then he felt movement. Felt, or dreamt, he wasn’t sure but he knew it wasn’t threatening as the fur blanket was pulled aside covering his body. He felt warm, almost hot flesh against his own and hands touched his thighs, moving upward. The sensation felt real but he was always having vivid dreams.
“Shhhh….” He heard and rolled his head and began to open his eyes. It was darker than his imagination had made the interior of the house and almost immediately he smelt smoke from the fire. He focused and saw the shape of a female body and watched as she wrapped the fur blanket around her shoulders and lifted herself over his legs and almost squatted on his groin.
“Don’t speak,” Lita said, her hands moving over his swelling manhood, “We don’t want to wake them.” Her head darted to the still sleeping bodies of Brenna and Varro as Grattius began to struggle.
“What the…..” He managed before she clamped a hand over his mouth.
“I said be quiet,” She leant forward, eyes wide, “or I’ll go back to my own bed.”
He stopped struggling and allowed himself to fall back onto the bed, a half smile on his face, “Not a word or a gasp or even a sigh, understand?” Lita said as she lowered herself onto him, he nodded his understanding.
A bang from somewhere suddenly woke Grattius and he sat up. He looked around, Lita was back in her bed, had he dreamed last night’s events he wondered? He could see dawn’s light through the side of the door skin and lay down again.
Bang. A voice shouted something from outside but it was in a language he didn’t understand, it sounded like the same as Lita and the old man had spoken the day before. She sat up as did Brenna.
“They want us outside.” Lita said, “And they know your Roman.”
Grattius swept his legs over the side of the bed, “Of course they know, are they stupid?” He walked to the door and peered through the small gap between the frame and the door skin. Looking outside he could see a group of some ten Britons, some on foot, or sat on horses, most carried flaming torches. All of them had their attention focused on the roundhouse. They were armed with swords and axes.
“Shit,” he said, “it must be the bastards from that place nearby.” He turned back and saw Lita and Brenna quickly dressing, throwing their clothes on “The others must have told them we were here.”
The voice shouted again, “He says come out now or we’ll set the place on fire.” Lita said securing a belt. “We don’t know that, maybe we were seen with them.”
“Throw me that tunic.” Grattius said to Brenna.
“What are you going to do?” She asked.
“We can’t stay in here, we’ll burn.” He replied, “I’ll go out and talk to them, give you time to get away.” He pointed to the rear of the house, “Cut your way out.”
“And what of Varro?” Brenna asked, “I’m not leaving him.”
“And how are you supposed to talk to them, you can’t understand a word they’re saying?” Lita asked.
“Mm didn’t think of that.” He replied as he quickly threw the tunic on.
“We go out together or not at all.” Brenna said walking towards the door, “How many are there?”
Grattius peered through the gap again, “At least ten that I can see, maybe more elsewhere.”
“Come on, we face this together.” Brenna said and swung the door skin aside, the other two followed. She squinted as she walked into the pale light as the flames of the torches were bright. The man, the shouter, spoke again from his horse, the look of disdain evident for all to see.
“He says we are to die, you first,” Lita said looking at Grattius, “and then Brenna and I after they have raped us for bringing you to their land.”
“Fuck me! I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet.” Grattius replied looking round and smirking at the two women.
“This is no time for humour Roman, they mean to kill us.” Lita said.
The leader of the group, who had been shouting, got down from his horse and pulled a huge sword from his scabbard, the others crept forward, he spoke again, spitting out the words.
“And just as I thought things were improving after last night.” Grattius said turning to Lita, Brenna frowned. The Briton got closer and hefted the sword above his head and quickly approached Grattius and then the world changed.
Valerius was woken that morning by the dawn trumpet call, he opened his eyes and sat up in bed and felt for his boots on the cold floor.
“Who in hades was doing all that snoring last night?” He said rubbing his face and yawning, “It kept waking me up, three times it happened. If it hadn’t been so cold I’d have got up and given them a kick”
“It was Pollo again, same as usual, he’s always doing it. We could use him instead of the trumpet to wake us all up in the morning.” Vescus said throwing his blankets aside, “Eventually you’ll get used to it like the rest of us and after a few months it won’t bother you anymore.”
Valerius raised his eyebrows, “After a few months, I’ll be dead from exhaustion if I don’t get any decent sleep. Can’t we do something, peg his nose? Cut it off?”
“It’s the wine,” Vescus said, “if he has wine, he snores and last night he had wine.”
Pollo stumbled out of bed on the other side of the room, “Ah morning.” He said searching for his boots, “I thought I heard the morning horn.” He fumbled about and picked up a few things from a small table at the side of his bed and walked towards the door that led to the latrines, “Sleep well?” He asked Valerius as he walked by, who just shook his head in response.