Although she had been disappointed when the letter arrived from Cerialis telling her to stay at Piroboridava for the moment, Sulpicia Lepidina had got on with things as she always did, running the household since Claudia had little interest in such matters when there were warriors to supervise. Remarkably, she took over without making Philo resent the new, far tighter oversight. The praetorium bustled, and often echoed to the cries of the children. Ferox remembered reading that Cicero felt his new villa had gained a soul when a library was created, but nothing made a place a home faster than children. It was all so comfortable that he wondered whether he was ready for a quiet life, even a dull life, if only Claudia would take him back. Then he would remember where they were, and think of Dacians swarming over the ramparts of the fort. They were ruthless in war and could be cruel to captives. He had heard too many stories of what the local women had done to captured Romans in past wars to doubt that there was a lot of truth in them, and the allies in any Dacian army could be even less predictable. If his fears were right then that meant captivity or death for everyone here, perhaps with many cruelties along the way and such thoughts chilled him to the very bone.
On the morning when all was ready to test the monâkon, it was easier to live with such fears. The day was glorious, with the sky an almost unbroken field of pale blue and hardly a breath of wind. Almost the entire fort was watching, with the ramparts lined wherever there was a decent view of the canabae and bridge beyond. On top of the right-hand tower of the porta praetoria was a place reserved for the ladies and the children, the latter especially eager when told that this mighty machine flung vast rocks to smash all in its path. To Ferox’s relief, Claudia Enica was as elegant and proper in her attire as Sulpicia Lepidina, both adding broad-brimmed felt hats to guard against the sun. They still attracted plenty of sidelong glances, as did their maids, both of whom were pretty. A man would struggle to peek up a long dress when they climbed or through the gaps in the planking, but Ferox knew that plenty would still try.
The mood of celebration was helped because this was genuinely a festival day for the Brigantes, and later several cows were to be sacrificed and form the basis for a feast.
‘Is it safe, do you think?’ Vindex said with great suspicion.
‘Bet it doesn’t work,’ Sabinus told Dionysius.
‘I reckon it’ll either tear itself apart or work so well that it knocks the bridge down,’ the auxiliary centurion replied.
‘No, it’ll hit the tavern,’ Vindex suggested. ‘Accidents always happen to the most important things.’
Ferox had thought the same thoughts, which was one reason why he had ensured that the ladies and the children would watch from this tower, rather than the left one which was closer to the catapult. They should all be well out of reach of any unexpected event up here. He walked over to the rear of the tower. Below him, Naso stood with a cornicen.
‘Signal that we are ready,’ he shouted.
‘Sir!’ Naso replied and a moment later the trumpeter sounded a deep note on his curved cornu.
Ephippus waved, but was still making final adjustments. Ferox stayed at the rear of the tower, for he felt that luck was more likely to be with them if he did not watch the first shot land. Apart from that, only from here could he see the machine properly. Two men loaded the stone into the sling which had already been cranked down. Ephippus was confident that the engine would be capable of hurling something twice the weight, but had agreed that a cautious approach was best. The men stepped back, the engineer checked that all were safely away from the frame and then took the cord ready to pull. Ferox wondered which gods the Greek prayed to as he hesitated, and then yanked it free, releasing the arm. Even at this distance Ferox flinched at the force as the arm sprang forward, banging into the padded upright with more noise than he had expected, and at its tip the sling whipped over the top and released the stone. The whole frame shook with the action, and he knew that it was at a pretty low tension.
‘Bugger me, it works.’ That was Vindex, but anything else was lost in a great gasp from the crowd that turned into a cheer. He pushed his way back to the front. There was a faint puff of dust where the stone had landed and broken apart. It was still well short of the bridge by a good hundred paces, but about the longest range for any of their other engines.
The second shot bounced thirty paces nearer, the stone cracking into two big pieces, one of which kept going straight. They were using soft limestone for the trials. Partly that was to avoid smashing the bridge or – if it went wild, a building – and partly because Ephippus had suggested that the fall of each missile would be that much more obvious and easier to measure afterwards. The third was closer still, the thump as it was loosed the loudest by far. After that Ephippus began to adjust the tension on the main washers, lobbing the missile higher if slower. Within a few shots, a stone splashed into the river beside the bridge.
‘Tell him if he breaks it, then he’ll have to pay for it,’ Sabinus said cheerfully.
‘Riders!’ Vindex interrupted, pointing to the south, where three horsemen were coming up the track.
Claudia Enica pulled the brim of her hat down as she stared for a long moment. ‘They’re mine. We must warn them.’
‘I am sure they will work out the danger for themselves, dear lady,’ Sabinus suggested.
‘Depends how daft they are,’ Vindex muttered.
Claudia turned to Ferox. ‘Either send someone to ride out and warn them or I will do it.’
He glanced down, taking in her long dress.
‘I can ride in this,’ she said, and he hoped there was more amusement than anger in her eyes, ‘or take it off.’
Ferox went to the rear of the tower and shouted down to Naso. Before the cornu sounded there was another dull thump. He heard the murmur of the crowd, softer now than at the start, but still excited and then it turned into shouting.
‘Oh bugger,’ Vindex said. By the time Ferox could see there was a plume of dust beyond the bridge and the three horses were bolting in all directions. Two of the riders stayed on, while the third was down and not moving.
‘I hope that is not Bran,’ Claudia Enica said quietly.
‘Bran?’ Ferox had almost forgotten the boy he had not seen for six years, and struggled to accept that the lad – a man now presumably – was over there.
Claudia nodded.
‘Oh shit,’ Vindex muttered.
XVI
‘IT REALLY IS good to see you,’ Ferox said and meant it.
‘Oh yes,’ Vindex added, but he was not looking at Bran. He winked at Bran’s companion, who continued to ignore him.
‘I took an oath,’ Bran said.
‘Yes, and I am all the more glad that you gave it,’ Ferox told him.
The five of them were riding a hundred paces ahead of the main force with the line of outriders ahead of them. At the moment the woods were more than half a mile away, and otherwise the ground too open to hide many enemies. Soon, they would have to be far more careful. They were higher up the valley, some twelve miles from the fort, looking for the missing half of a patrol. The remainder had split away to follow a different path as they returned to Piroboridava and ought to have met up when they were almost home. There had been no sign of them, and still they had not returned, so Ferox had decided to go and look. Sabinus had argued, saying that they ought to wait or send someone else, but Ferox used his rank to make it an order. Apart from anything else, he was hoping for a little time to speak to the new arrivals when the grip of the army did not hold them all so tight. Bran and the other warrior were from a world beyond Rome.