‘There’s no need for that,’ H asserted. ‘He’s just battle-mad from the forest, and you love your soldiers enough to forgive them. There’s no one who wouldn’t believe that, Malchus. And the girl doesn’t matter. No one will believe her without a soldier’s voice to back her up.’
Malchus considered the idea; then he looked at me. ‘Can you shut your friend up?’
‘I can.’
There was another drawn-out silence. I could hear Malchus’s jaw grind in irritation.
‘One word, and he dies,’ he eventually pronounced. ‘That goes for you pair, too. You’ve always been a soft bastard, H, but don’t let that get the better of you.’
‘I won’t, sir,’ H answered.
‘And you’ll take care of your friend?’ Malchus pressed me again.
‘I will, sir,’ I promised the murderer.
And when I returned to the barrack room, I did not disappoint him.
52
Stumps’s head crashed into the wood of the bunk. I gave him no time to breathe, driving my knee into the side of his skull and stamping down on to his heaving chest.
‘Stop it!’ Linza screamed at me, trying to pull me back.
I cast her aside like an afterthought, grabbing Stumps by the scruff of his tunic and hauling him to his feet. Blood and snot ran from his crushed nose. His eyes were unfocused. He was already broken from the beating I had given him, but my sense was lost to anger, and so I drove his skull once more into the wooden frame of his bunk.
‘You could have got her killed!’ I screamed at the same time as I pushed away the woman I was so desperate to protect. ‘You cunt, Stumps! You cunt! You could have got her killed!’
‘Felix!’ Linza screamed. ‘Felix!’
I took hold of her shoulders and pushed her down on to a bed. She came back at me like a fury, swinging a punch that rocked my jaw.
‘What were you doing?’ I screamed into her face, discounting the blow and sending another kick into Stumps’s ribs. ‘What did you think you were you doing?’
‘Felix!’ a voice bellowed from behind me.
I ignored it.
‘Felix!’ Brando yelled again, grabbing at my shoulders.
Planning my sentence for Stumps, I had calmly sent the Batavian and Micon on a fool’s errand. They had returned to find me transformed, our bloodied comrade at my feet, Linza as consumed with rage as I was myself.
‘Stop it!’ Brando tried. ‘That’s your brother!’
But I would not stop. I kicked, I punched and I roared oaths. Eventually, Micon returned with some men of the century and the scrum of bodies held my thrashing form to the floor and beat me into compliance. By the time that I began to pass out, one of the people I cared for most in the world lay bloodied and beaten by my hand. The other looked at me with hatred.
The calm that I had begun to know was over.
I was returned to myself.
53
The salt water washed lazily over my toes; it was warm. Sun bounced from my bare shoulders. I looked out at the sea, seeing its power radiating from the waves.
‘I love you,’ she told me, feeling that same energy and purpose.
‘Is he all right?’ she then asked, her fingers touching my arm as she looked back behind us to where a young man waited beyond the sand’s reach.
‘Marcus is a big boy.’ I smiled. ‘He can stand to be alone for a little while. He loves the sound of his own voice more than anyone else’s, anyway.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’ She pushed me, and I saw the quiver of unease pull at her lips, attempting to take away the smile that was my reason for breathing.
‘He’s fine about us,’ I told her honestly. ‘He’s my oldest friend,’ I added after a moment to give her confidence – I needed that smile. I did not want a single slip.
‘I love you,’ she said again, and in those words were captured our strongest desires.
‘I love you too.’
I kissed her. Another wave ran over my feet; it was hot. I looked down.
Blood.
Panic overcame me in an instant. I looked at her face for comfort, but found only terror – her skin was grey, eyes sunken. Flies danced on what had been her smile.
I backed away.
‘Marcus!’ I screamed, helpless. ‘Marcus!’
I looked up the beach, to where my friend had stood.
‘Marcus?’ I pleaded when there was no sight of him.
‘Look at what you’ve done,’ he hissed, appearing suddenly by my side, the carnage of his jaw flapping beside his lolling tongue. ‘Look at what you’ve done,’ he challenged me again, and I followed his pointed finger to the ocean, seeing blood-red waves crashing, hundreds of bodies churning in the red foam. I saw faces amongst the ruin: Varo, Priscus, Octavius, Chickenhead, Rufus, Cnaeus, Folcher, Statius.
The tide of death was endless.
‘Do you see what you’ve done?’ Marcus asked me.
I turned my tear-filled gaze back towards the man who had been my greatest friend.
He was not alone, now. Stumps stood beside him.
‘How many dead is your life worth?’ he asked, nose twisted and bloodied from the beating I had delivered.
‘Let it go,’ Stumps urged, ‘before you take more of us with you.’
His words were calm. Without hesitation, I followed his outstretched arm – and his forgiveness. I began to wade into the bloodied waters that churned about me, amid the bodies of my comrades carried by the tide to bump against my legs like ghost ships in a dead harbour. Soon, chest deep, I was surrounded by the carnage of my own creation.
‘Let go, Felix,’ Stumps told me from the shore.
‘Let go, Corvus,’ Marcus rasped.
I put my head beneath the waters.
54
My eyes blurred open. I saw Linza. Her face was as tight as hide on a shield, lips drawn and eyes narrow. In her hand was a wet cloth, and she used it to wipe at the cuts on my face.
‘I should choke you with it,’ she said, and though I could see that she wanted to be angry, there was something that held her back from reproaching me.
It was pity, I realized.
‘You scream a lot,’ she told me quietly, sensing that I recognized her true feelings. ‘Last night I wanted you to die. Now I think I love you.’
There was no warmth in the words. She knew as well as I did that love was a curse.
‘I know why you did what you did. It wasn’t you. It was war.’ Linza looked at her hands as she wrung out the wet cloth. ‘Your eyes, even, were not the same.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I croaked, exhausted from the night, my nightmare and her revelation. ‘It would be better if I wasn’t here,’ I murmured. ‘I should have died in the forest.’
The wet cloth came back to my face with force. Her words stung as much as the cuts to my face. ‘Don’t talk like that,’ she snapped. ‘It’s pathetic.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You feel sorry too much,’ she snapped, on the offensive now, her cheeks flushing. ‘You are so lucky, Felix. Fuck, you are making me so angry! This pity for yourself. What is wrong with you? Be a man!’
‘You have no idea—’ I began quietly.
She cut me off, blue eyes wild as her anger began to bubble over. ‘I have no idea? My husband is dead, Felix! I will never see him again! My friends? Gone. My family in Batavia has war coming to them. My brothers will fight, and maybe die. My cousins. Don’t tell me I have no idea! You think because you hold a sword you are the only one who can speak about war? Fuck you! You see one side of it. One part. War is not all about you.’