‘Ferox,’ said a voice he had not heard for some time. ‘It is true then, you are here.’ A man held up a torch as Acco came towards him, his long beard and hair blowing in the wind as the light flickered. ‘I rather think I would be wise to have you killed.’
XXV
THE LITTLE DOG was lame, flea-ridden, and had lost most of one ear and several patches of fur. A stale smell of decay grew stronger as the druid tickled the animal under the chin and fussed it. The dog did not seem to mind, but it was panting for breath and did not respond apart from a few wags of the stubby remnant of its tail.
Ferox always struggled to remember Acco’s features. Even now, with the old man only a few feet away, there was something indistinct about what little of his face was visible behind the beard and long hair. Both were filthy, as was the man himself, and his smell was only a little less pungent than the dog’s. Ferox found it much easier to picture the dog than its owner.
When Ferox was young, the druid had sometimes visited his grandfather and spoken to the boys who were being trained with him. In his mind’s eye, he could recall the silence that greeted Acco’s appearance, the fear that swept over all of the boys, who the rest of the time tried to parade their fearlessness. The druid must have been younger then, but already seemed old. He never shouted, or even raised his voice, and yet it was filled with power and menace. Ferox remembered the soft words that somehow were always clear, but in his memory the druid himself was a vague shape in a grey robe. It was almost as if the man walked on the green earth and at the same time saw into the Shadow world. Some of the boys swore that this was so.
Ferox looked at the druid and wondered whether they had been right. The sky had cleared, but dawn was coming and the stars beginning to fade. Most of the warriors were preparing to leave in their long boats, their wooden frames covered in stretched hide. A few were still on shore, watching in case the pirates came, but it was clear that they did not really expect this. Acco sat on a folded cloak laid out on the beach and played with his dog. A warrior stood on either side of him, each holding a spear, its butt resting on the pebbles. Ferox’s arms were still tied behind him as he sat cross-legged in front of the druid. Bran was a short way away, gnawing the last meat off a sheep’s rib. No one had offered Ferox any food. Brigita sat with a cluster of young men and a few women, who kept themselves apart from the others.
‘The Romans are here,’ Acco told Ferox. ‘Two galleys and three other ships carrying men. They will be landing by now, in the bay on the far side of the island. That will take a while, and then they will attack the dun held by Cniva and his men. I would guess that they will begin the assault in three or four hours, although it is possible that they will surprise me. Brocchus is a prudent man, but he will be angry, and that young fellow Crispinus is impetuous.’
Ferox said nothing, and hoped that his face was impassive. Acco always seemed to know all – or almost all – of what the Romans had done and were about to do, so he was not really surprised to hear him speak in this way. The druid watched him. ‘Do you have nothing to say?’ he asked after a while.
‘I am glad they are here. Glad they burned Cniva’s ship so that he cannot escape.’
‘They did not.’ There was another pause. Acco sighed. ‘I had almost forgotten how mean the Silures are when it comes to spending words. Your grandfather would be proud of that about you, at least.
‘The Romans did not destroy the ship. These men did. Some of them, anyway, and two were killed in the act. These folk are from the other islands and the mainland. They are poor, their life hard, and the Harii steal or extort more than they can afford so that their life becomes even harder.’ There was a slight pause, as if he hoped that Ferox would be impressed by this new detail.
Acco sighed. ‘Stubborn, just like all your kin. When I learned of the Roman expedition, I hurried here. In the past, they lacked the strength to resist. The Harii and Usipi are many and well armed. It has taken them years to repair their trireme and make it seaworthy again, but in that time they have raided in captured merchant ships or simple wooden boats. These men could not hope to burn all their boats and strand them forever in this place, and they feared to stir them up to greater anger. Cniva is a bad man.’
Ferox thought about the plot to take Cerialis and his wife and burn them as a sacrifice. Acco had helped the Stallion, and then slowly killed the man as an atoning sacrifice when he failed and was beaten. A lot of people had died because of the druid’s plans and more would die. Ferox flexed his wrists. The rope had worked a little loose. Trying not to be too obvious, he twisted his fingers back, feeling for the knot. If he could only get free he might just grab one of the spears and drive it through the old man.
Acco smiled, his beard parting to show his broken and blackened teeth, as if he read the centurion’s thoughts. ‘I really should have you killed,’ he said. ‘I had hoped that you might have come to your senses, but I can see that you have not. You will keep your oath to an emperor who cares nothing for you or your kin, and to an empire that is smothering the world. So be it. I tried once to persuade you to join me and you refused. I shall not waste more breath on that.’ The druid stood up. The little dog started to rub against his leg and he gave it a gentle kick. It scampered away, breath loud with effort.
‘Sometimes a cur is too used to the leash ever to be free,’ Acco said.
Ferox felt the rope rubbing his skin raw as he struggled.
‘I shall not kill you today,’ the druid said. ‘Others may, but I shall not, because it is possible that you can be useful and do a good deed for a change. Have you seen Cniva’s stronghold?’
‘No.’
‘He did not build it, of course, and just stole it from the folk who lived there, but he has made it stronger. It lies on a headland, and the two encircling walls do not go all the way around because there are cliffs too sheer for anyone to climb. Your leaders will throw their men at the walls because they have no other choice and because they hate the enemy so much. Cerialis will wish to avenge his wife, even once he knows that she is safe.’
Acco smiled, and Ferox guessed that he had betrayed his surprise and relief at the news. ‘A woman?’ the druid said, as if musing. ‘And a fine woman at that.’ He stared down at the centurion. ‘That would explain much.’
‘The Romans are good at storming cities,’ Ferox said, trying to change the subject. ‘You must know that.’
‘Yes, but they will not have all of their equipment to help them. If they have any sense they have brought ladders, or perhaps they can make some. It will not be easy.’
‘More men would help.’
‘Perhaps,’ the druid said, ‘but I doubt it, and these warriors have already risked much. They will not join your men, so you Romans must fight your own battle and pay the blood price. You may win and you may not.’
‘It is better if we win.’
Acco flung his arms wide and raised his voice just a little. For someone so softly spoken it was akin to screaming. The dog started to howl. ‘It would have been better if Romans had never unleashed this evil on us in the first place. They are here because of you. They have killed and raped, stolen food that could not be spared and when they first came they brought a plague that killed whole families.
‘Rome is evil and she spreads evil across the lands. Even here, no one can escape her.’ Acco dropped his arms and seemed to calm. He kicked the dog into silence. ‘These men have risked their lives to trap the Harii and Usipi on this island. Now it is up to the Romans to wipe this stain from the earth. All must die, for such evil must be punished. They made the sickness, so they must cure it.