But the men did nothing. Though not shackled like the Africans below, Cassius wondered if they too were slaves. They certainly didn’t seem overly concerned about returning to help. In fact, most had already run away.
Scaurus retreated past the side of the deckhouse towards the main hatch. Behind him, Indavara and Alikar circled each other. The mercenary seemed to have the upper hand.
Cassius swung the boathook into Scaurus’s shoulder — a thumping blow sufficient to make him drop the knife and reach for his arm.
‘I’ll have you torn limb from limb for this,’ he hissed, spittle dripping down his chin.
‘I don’t think so, Scaurus.’
Cassius altered his grip and smashed the boathook into his foe’s right thigh.
‘That’s for Major, you murdering bastard.’
‘I swear by all the gods, I’ll have you torn apart!’ Scaurus yelled, his face scarlet.
Cassius’s third blow caught Scaurus just above the ear, sending him tottering backward towards the hatch. He tried desperately to keep his balance but slipped on the top step. He seemed to freeze in mid-air for a moment before falling head first through the hatch, his body thumping against the wood all the way down.
Cassius came forward and looked into the gloom. Scaurus lay motionless next to the table. Seventeen pairs of eyes stared out from the darkness at their fallen master.
‘And that’s for Gregorius.’
Cassius looked up.
Indavara was just feet away, between the hatch and the side rail.
Alikar lunged at him.
Indavara didn’t dare let him get close again. He took two swift steps back to give himself space, then launched a wide sweep at the mercenary.
Alikar parried solidly; and the impact sent convulsive tremors up Indavara’s arm. He barely kept hold of the weapon, but saw for the first time a flash of doubt in the older man’s eyes. He lashed out again, this time aiming low.
Alikar saw it coming and leapt backwards. Indavara missed him completely — and almost lost his balance — but he pressed on, raising the club over his shoulder once more. He took a deep breath, planted his front foot on the deck and twisted into a full-blooded swing at his foe’s head. Alikar had no choice but to block.
The clubs met with a shuddering crack. Both men lost their grip: Indavara’s weapon flew from his hands and smashed into the deck, Alikar’s wheeled into the air.
Before it had even hit the ground, Indavara reached for his dagger.
Alikar went for his own blade.
Indavara’s fingers closed on the handle. He plucked the blade from the sheath.
Alikar was fumbling. He looked down.
Indavara plunged the dagger straight into his foe’s heart, sinking the blade in deep.
Alikar’s hand was still on the handle of his knife.
Indavara forced the blade in another inch.
The mercenary’s entire body quivered and he let out a gasping sigh. His hands came up around Indavara’s neck. Indavara tried to push him away but Alikar pulled him in close and locked him into a bear hug. He staggered backwards, dragging Indavara with him.
Cassius dropped the boathook, picked up Scaurus’s knife, and rushed towards them.
Two more stumbling steps and they were at the side rail. Indavara’s arms were pinned. He tried to get a knee into the Palestinian’s groin but they were too close.
He smashed his head into Alikar’s nose just as the mercenary gave a final heave.
They pitched over the side rail and into the river.
Water exploded against Indavara’s face. He shut his eyes as he sank, then opened them as he began to rise. He thought Alikar still had hold of him but then realised his arms were free. His head broke the surface and he saw the big body drifting away between the ship and the jetty.
For the first time in his entire life, Indavara found himself floating in water. The feeling of a liquid void around and beneath him panicked him like nothing before. He kicked out to try to stay afloat but the river seemed to be sucking him down.
He went under again, swallowed water, came back up, spat it out, thrashed around, swallowed more.
Under again and this time he didn’t come back up. The mail-shirt seemed to have tripled in weight. He tried to pull it off him but it didn’t move an inch.
He sank lower.
A dark shape in front of him. He reached for the ship, trying to halt his descent, but his fingers slid down the smooth planks of the hull.
He fell further into the green mist. Tendril fingers slithered over his legs, pulling him lower. He shut his eyes again.
This is how I will die.
XXXVI
‘Cut, damn you!’
Kneeling by the side rail, with Scaurus’s knife wedged between his knees, Cassius ran the ropes on his wrists up and down the blade. He was already through one but needed to cut another to get free.
He took long, deep breaths to get some air into his lungs. It seemed an age since he’d heard the last splash. Indavara had been under a long time already. But he was so strong. He could hold on.
Cassius saw movement to his left: Simo — running along the barge towards the jetty.
‘Simo, he can’t swim! The armour! He can’t swim!’
Finally the knife was through. Cassius shook the rope off his wrists and wrenched off first one boot, then the other. He got up on the side rail. All he could see below was a thin trail of bubbles.
He dived into the river.
The shock of the cold faded quickly, as did the power of the dive. He felt himself rising again and kicked downward as he opened his eyes.
Nothing but murky green. Wide, arcing strokes took him deeper. Pain stung his ears.
There, impossibly far below him, something glinting in the darkness. He kicked again. Fifteen feet down. Twenty. Pressure in his lungs and throat.
Twenty-five feet. Then he saw him. Indavara’s face was no more than a blur. Everything below the silvery mail-shirt was obscured by thick clumps of undulating reed.
Cassius kicked towards him. When he was close enough, he reached between Indavara’s flailing arms for his belt, catching an elbow in the neck for his trouble. Cassius hauled the belt upwards. Indavara moved a couple of inches but then stopped. The reed seemed to have wrapped itself around him. The disturbed water cleared. He looked like a child, terrified and helpless.
Cassius felt the slippery reed licking at his legs. He locked both hands on the belt and heaved upwards again but Indavara was stuck there.
He came for me.
I can’t leave him here to die.
Cassius’s chest was on fire; and the fire was moving up to his throat. He knew he had only moments of air left.
He let go of Indavara. Instinct took over. He began to drift upwards.
Sensing something behind him, he turned.
A dark shape above, a big hand coming towards him, then a broad face set in a steely grimace.
Despite his size, Cassius knew Simo to be a strong swimmer. The Gaul ploughed past him and took Indavara’s left hand. Cassius reached out and took the right, interlocking their fingers. Simo started upward. Cassius shut his eyes and kicked out with every ounce of strength he had left.
Indavara shifted, then suddenly was free.
Legs thrashing, they rose swiftly, accelerating up towards the dark bulk of the ship.
The fire was through Cassius’s throat and into his mouth. His eyelids flickered open and shut. Darkness closed in around him. He was blacking out.
Shimmering sunlight above. Yellow spots flashed in his eyes. His body felt light, hollow. He wasn’t even kicking any more.
He reached up. His fingers broke the surface. And then he was there.
Spluttering as he sucked in air, he let go of Indavara’s hand, barely noticing the other two surface three yards away.
‘Sir!’
Cassius could do nothing to help. He reached out for the ship, then realised it was too far away. But as he drew in more air, his vision began to clear. He turned to see Simo struggling to keep Indavara’s head above the surface. The bodyguard’s eyes were shut. He was coughing up water.