‘If you want to disturb Slap while he’s busy giving the queen bitch a good fucking, you be my guest. Everybody thinks Stab’s the dangerous one, but I’ve seen Slap’s eyes when he goes after a man, and I know which one of them scares me the most…’
Julius’s lips pulled back in a snarl, and he turned to pad silently up the pitch-black stairway that led to Annia’s room.
‘ Horsemen! ’
Scaurus followed the Votadini scout’s pointing arm, squinting into the setting sun. He paused for a moment, shading his eyes with a hand and staring hard into the sun’s glare, his frown deepening. ‘Those are our horsemen. Shit! ’ He stared at the ground while Clodius stared at him in bemusement, then shook his head in barely controlled anger. ‘We’ve been fooled! Get your men turned around and ready to march back to the city, and pass the same order to the legion centuries.’
He walked away from the leading century’s front rank, stopping after fifty paces to await the arrival of the riders. Decurion Silus reined in and jumped down from his horse with a weary salute.
‘Greetings, Tribune. I have to report that-’
‘I know. You rode all the way west until you ran headlong into the First Spear Frontinius’s command, and never saw any sign of Obduro’s men. We’ve been fooled, Decurion, and badly! I’ve thrown almost every man we had left in the city into what I thought was going to end with Obduro between the hammer and anvil, and now I find that I’ve left him a juicy prize for the taking. How far behind you is the first spear?’
‘A mile or so, no more, Tribune.’
Scaurus’s face brightened a little.
‘He must have turned them around sooner than I would have. Thank Mithras that at least one of us is thinking with his head today. Decurion, take your men and scout forward towards the city as fast as you can. I want to know what’s happening there before it gets too dark to see.’ Silus saluted and remounted, leading his men away to the east. ‘Centurion!’
Clodius ran to join him.
‘Tribune?’
‘Tell your men to be ready for a forced march back to the city. And tell them that anyone that falls out of the column can expect to be making his way alone, in the dark, and with a long spell on extra duty waiting for him at the end of the walk!’
At the top of the hidden stairway Julius crept forward until he found the door, sheathing the knife and groping for the heavy iron bolt. Sliding it out of its keep, he eased the door away from its frame with slow patience, mindful that any movement in the wall hanging disguising its presence might alert whoever was in the room. A mewing squeal sounded in the room behind the curtain, an involuntary expression of pain as whatever was happening to Annia took a fresh turn, and a second later the sound of a flat palm slapping bare flesh rang out.
‘You’re loving this, aren’t you, bitch, loving having a real man up you rather than your army faggot? He couldn’t make you squeak like that, could he? He’s run away and left you to take the heat for him.’ He grunted again, and again, clearly going at the helpless woman with all the force he had. ‘I’ve wanted to do this to you for years now, but Petrus wanted to keep you for himself. Now that he’s got no more use for you I’m going to make up for all those years.’
Recognising Slap’s voice, and tensed on the balls of his feet ready to sweep the heavy curtain aside and attack, Julius held onto his rage by a fingernail’s width, waiting to be sure of his bearings before striking, but then another voice spoke.
‘Fucking hurry up and lose your load. I’ve been watching you and nursing this bone for long enough. Let me have a go, and later you can take all the time over her you want.’
He recognised Stab’s voice, close enough to the hidden door that if it weren’t for the wall hanging Julius knew he could have reached out and taken him by the throat. He swept the tapestry aside with a flick of his left hand, snapping the blade into the wiry man’s neck and leaving it buried there, smashing him aside with a flat palm. Taking two steps to the bed he grabbed Annia’s rapist by the hair just as Slap realised what was happening. Heaving the big man off the prostrate woman’s body, he put a hand on the struggling bodyguard’s chest and threw him bodily across the small room to smash against the far wall with a roar of anger, nodding down at Annia and gesturing for her to stay where she was. While Slap lay momentarily stunned on the room’s wooden floor, Julius stepped round the bed and slid home the three bolts that secured the door.
‘A nice big oak plank like that ought to keep your boys out for a few minutes, until they find an axe or two, and we’ll be long gone by then. With your head, of course.’
The bodyguard groaned and climbed to his feet, rolling his head and clenching his fists.
‘You should have done me while you had the chance. No man’s bested me with bare fists in ten years and more. I’m going to break your fucking back and let you watch while I gut your woman in front of you.’
He stamped forward, supremely confident in his physical prowess as Julius shook his empty hands and wrapped them into big, scarred fists. Pulling his head aside smartly to dodge the bodyguard’s opening shot he grabbed the other man’s extended left arm, pulled it down onto his raised knee by simple brute force and broke it at the elbow, drawing a shriek of pain and horror from his suddenly agonised opponent. Snapping his head forward into Slap’s nose he sent the other man reeling back, his face a bloodied mess, and watched him as he staggered back against the wall next to where Stab lay inert in a pool of his own blood, Julius’s knife still protruding from his throat.
‘It’s a pity for you that nobody with a bit more about them than your usual brainless muscle thought to educate you in the ways of real fighting. Unlike you, I’ve been fighting with real men ever since I left this place at fifteen, soldiers who’ll leave you bleeding at the slightest provocation, whether intended or not, and I rose to the rank of centurion by beating the living shit out of anyone that got in my way. All that deference I gave you before was just my way of avoiding a fight that could only end badly for you, and then for her.’
The door to the corridor shook in its frame as whatever reinforcement had arrived in response to the bodyguard’s shout attacked it with their boots and shoulders, but the sturdy timber and heavy iron bolts seemed to be resisting their assault easily enough. Julius tipped his head to Annia, who had risen from the bed and was putting on a tunic. Slap nodded slowly, then reached down with his good arm to his dying comrade and pulled the knife free with an audible sucking noise, watching as Stab convulsed for a moment and then subsided back into the spreading crimson puddle of his lifeblood. Slap’s reply was tight with the pain of his injuries, but an angry light was burning in his eye.
‘Fair enough, hard man. Let’s see if you can do knife work as well as you can talk.’
He came forward, crablike, his wrecked arm turned away from the Tungrian while the knife weaved a deadly pattern in front of him. Julius stepped forward cautiously to meet him, swaying back as the knife hand darted for his eyes, then wincing as the blade sliced across his gut, leaving a line of blood weeping through the slashed tunic.
‘Now you’ve done it. The soldier that lent me this tunic’s going to shit when he sees what a mess you’ve made of it.’
He danced in fast, catching Slap’s good hand in his right fist as the bruiser made to repeat the cut, holding it steady in mid-air as the bodyguard grunted and strained in a fruitless effort to break the powerful grip on his hand. Julius tensed the bulging muscle in his right arm, physically forcing the other man’s hand down his body and turning the blade in towards him.
‘ No…’
Realising his intention Slap redoubled his efforts, butting the Tungrian in the face only for Julius to ball his other hand into a fist and smash it into Slap’s face with a crack of bone. With a single, powerful, grunting shove Julius forced the knife’s blade into Slap’s crotch, sawing it to and fro while the bodyguard screamed hoarsely at the blindingly intense pain. Pulling the weapon free from the other man’s failing grasp, he pushed him away, and the bodyguard tottered backwards with his good hand gripping his ruined manhood, his wide eyes fixed on Julius as blood flowed down his legs and onto the floor in thick rivulets.