‘Told you,’ Sosius said, crouching beside the tall warrior in the ditch running next to the road. ‘No guards. Just an old man driving, a boy to help with the horses and a couple of other slaves.’
‘Not the brightest, is she?’ Quiet country roads were rarely safe, let alone at night. ‘Any cutpurse could take her.’
‘She’s discreet and married, as is her lover. He’s waiting a couple of miles down the road in the farmhouse. Expect she’s all dressed up for him. You know what these fashionable ladies are like.’
‘Only from a distance. They’d never have looked at a common soldier like me.’ The tall man grunted again. ‘Doesn’t matter if she’s dumb, Catualda isn’t after brains. You sure she’s pretty?’
‘A goddess. Twenty-five, skin still like alabaster, and everything where it should be. Knows how to use it too, well broken in by husband and lovers. And fancy, if that’s what he wants, then he couldn’t find a fancier, unless he wants to send you to go to Rome itself.’
‘Hair? The king believes all Roman ladies have black hair.’
‘Redhead, but if he’s that keen on dark hair there’s always dye. What does it matter if all he wants is to hump a fancy Roman lady?’
That was why the tall man was here, hired by the king of a clan two hundred miles beyond the limes, far enough out of Rome’s reach if he could only find one and get her past the army’s outposts and far enough away before anyone found out or could catch them. He had been hired because he had once been a soldier of Rome, and a good one too, until a decurion wanted his woman and he had killed the man and run. Twelve years on, he could barely remember the woman’s face, let alone her name, but he had survived, first in Dacia and now among the Marcomanni, Quadi and the peoples to the east. He sold his sword, killing as he was bidden, with half a dozen good men at his side. Catualda liked the silver dishes and the pale blue glass of the empire, and listened with fascination to traders’ tales of the greater wonders of Rome. He was rich by the standards of the tribes, for his clan controlled large salt beds and lived in hill country hard for others to attack, but through which one of the best of the old trade roads passed. For whatever reason, Catualda wanted a Roman lady to add to his wives, and had promised them plenty of gold if they brought her. The king reckoned that a one-time soldier of Rome was best suited to the task – and since the tall man was known as a bandit and raider, no one was likely to ask too many questions if he was caught. Even if he revealed the secret, the Romans had never come as far as the King’s lands and were not likely to start now.
A man came running out of the woods on the far side of the road.
‘Help! Help!’ he shouted, waving his arms. ‘Please help me!’ The carriage was fifty paces away and no one seemed to be paying any attention to the man.
‘They’re not going to stop,’ the warrior hissed. ‘Why in Hercules’ name should they?’
‘They will,’ Sosius whispered. ‘She’s a kind lady.’
‘If you think so much of her why are you selling her to me?’
‘Business,’ Sosius said. ‘Only business.’ They had been lucky to come across Sosius, the freedman of a rich Roman who acted as his agent inside and well beyond the province. He traded in luxuries, favours and information, and for the right price it was said that he could find anything someone wanted. The truth of that rumour was about to be tested.
The driver shouted something and a woman they could not see replied from inside the raeda. Hauling hard on the reins, the team slowed from trot to walk and then halted. Sosius and the warrior slid back down in the ditch so that they could not be seen, even by the driver and the boy sitting on top of the carriage.
‘Thank you, lords, thank you,’ the man who had called to them said. ‘May Minerva and Vesta bless you and your families.’ They heard a scrabbling sound as he went down into the ditch and came up on the road.
‘Ask him what this is about?’ a woman’s voice said. It was a nice voice, refined and yet caring, and if the warrior had still had a conscience he might have felt a doubt. Instead he waited for the right moment, trusting his men to follow the plan.
‘What do you want, fellow?’ the driver shouted.
‘Protection, sir and noble lady. I was set upon by bandits, beaten up and robbed of money, most of my clothes and my donkey. My friend is hurt far worse, and I wish to go and find help so that I can return to him. Are we near an inn or village? We got lost, you see, and no longer know where we are. There would be someone who might help if you would carry me that far, I am sure of it. I beg you to help.’
‘Lady, he wants a ride,’ the coachman shouted. ‘But I don’t believe him. Bandits often tell such tall tales. We should have waited for the cavalry to reach us, as I said.’
‘Never speak to me like that!’ The kind voice was shrieking, and the warrior half smiled. Good luck to Catualda bringing this one into his hall. ‘Don’t you dare!’
‘Hoy! Let go of that harness!’ The coachman ignored her and was yelling. His long whip cracked and there was a yelp. ‘I said let go, you mongrel!’
‘Now!’ the warrior shouted and began to push up the side of the ditch. Something hit him hard on the leg, knocking it from under him and he slid down the muddy bank. Sosius was over him, and his cudgel struck again, striking the warrior on the wrist so that he dropped his sword. He tried to get up and this time the blow was on his head and knocked him flat again.
‘Lie still, you dumb bastard!’
There were shouts, a woman’s scream, a brief clash of steel and the dull thunks as blade sank into flesh.
‘Enjoy the moment, slave,’ the warrior said, not caring that the man had been freed, for his men were good and would soon deal with the travellers. He had told them that the lady was not to be marked, let alone touched in any other way. The slave girl was another matter, although he wanted a good look at her before he decided whether they could have some fun with her. If she was a virgin and pretty, then she might command a high price if they kept her that way. What mattered now was to grab the mistress and the girl if they could and get away as soon as they could. If they were lucky, they could sneak through the line of towers along the frontier before the sun rose the day after tomorrow, and be safe from pursuit if they rode hard for another day.
With one last cry of agony, the fight was over.
‘Get up!’ Sosius said, his club held ready, although what he expected to do with that against five good warriors was anyone’s guess. The tall man’s grin of satisfaction changed to shock when he stood, nursing his broken wrist, and stared across the road to see that all his men were dead. A slim boy not yet twenty was wiping the blade of his gladius in the cloak of one of the corpses. Beside him a girl, who was a little older and wearing a short tunic, was feeling the balance of the sword taken from another of the dead men!
‘All done?’ It was the lady’s voice and she appeared from around the mules, clad in a long dress that shimmered in the moonlight. There were dark stains on the material and more on her face and they could only be blood, for she held a curved sica in her hand and the blade was dripping. A short figure pattered up behind her, and the warrior thought it was a child until it spoke with a deep voice.
‘How positively disgusting,’ the dwarf said. ‘I told you we should have gone to the feast instead, but would you listen? A nice girl who likes to play with swords will soon find she doesn’t get any more invitations like that.’ No one seemed to pay any attention to him.
‘All done, my queen,’ the boy said. ‘Five of them, all dead.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Well, Sosius, are you satisfied?’