Empire of Dragons (12 page)

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Authors: Valerio Massimo Manfredi

BOOK: Empire of Dragons
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‘Slowly,’ said Martianus. ‘We’re no longer accustomed to eating our fill. It may be dangerous to load up our stomachs. Once in Pannonia we freed a prisoner who had lived on nothing but raw turnips for three months. He gobbled down a big chunk of bread with salted pork, and before we knew it he was dead. Be sure to chew every bite to a pulp before you swallow it. Drink in small sips. As soon as you feel satiated, stop. You’ll eat less food, more often. If you listen to me, you’ll save your skins and build up strength. If you go into a feeding frenzy, you’ll die.’

Uxal handed out the supplies that he’d taken from camp: barley bread, pulses, walnuts. And water.

Publius went to work immediately to camouflage the breach and then completed the job from outside with extraordinary skill, continuing to smooth the inner surface with clay for as long as he could get his arm through the hole. He then closed it up with a stone of perfect size. He had been part of the
murarii
for many years and their legendary skill in masonry had remained with him.

At that point they held council. Metellus questioned Uxal, the only one of them who had any knowledge of their surroundings. ‘We owe our freedom to you, Uxal, and now our fate still lies in your hands. What can we do? What direction should we take?’

Uxal answered with a certain emphasis, conscious of the role he was assuming. ‘My advice is to stay put where we are.’

‘What?’

‘Exactly what I said. They’re going to unleash every single man they have to hunt us down in every corner, track or trail. They’ll ransack every caravan and every caravanserai for miles in every direction. When they finally get it in their heads that they aren’t going to find anything searching far and wide, they’ll come back to search the vicinity, but they won’t think of looking for us underground, and even if they do, they won’t find anything. At that point, we’ll make our move and we’ll get as far away as possible. Need I say more?’

‘No, that’s perfectly clear,’ admitted Metellus. ‘But will it work?’

‘Do we have a choice?’

‘No, I’d say not.’

‘This place is as safe as we can get because it’s contaminated for them and they have a sacred fear of it. It will also give us a chance to recuperate and get into shape for a long march.’

‘What about our weapons?’ asked Balbus. ‘What will we do with them?’

‘My first impulse is to say hide them, leave them here, but that’s not necessarily the best choice. A group of armed men commands respect, and having weapons puts you in a position to negotiate or to enforce your will. You can even decide to hire yourselves out as escorts or guards. If the situation is favourable, that is.’

‘I don’t see us meeting up with any favourable situations for at least a ten-mile range,’ commented Antoninus. ‘But our armour can be disassembled into segments, and the coats of mail don’t take up much space. We’ll have to leave the shields behind. They’re just too bulky.’

‘We’ll do that, then,’ said Balbus, ‘if everyone agrees.’

‘When we’re ready to start our march,’ continued Uxal, ‘we’ll need some pack animals. Not too far from here there’s a pool of water that never dries up, and there’s a group of wild asses that go there to drink. I’d see them often from up on high when I came out to dump the waste. We could make a trap. They would be a good means of transport for us and a way to carry our supplies and the weapons.’

Metellus turned to Septimius and Lucianus. ‘You were good hunters, as I recall. Find some way to build a few traps so we can catch these asses.’

The two men nodded.

‘We’ll just have to keep them tied up for a few days and feed them with the forage that grows around here. They’ll follow us like lambs. We’ll be able to make ropes by braiding the fibres of this plant that grows between the rocks,’ suggested Uxal.

Metellus looked over at Antoninus: he was the right man for the job, an engineer from the
fabri
corps. He gave a nod.

‘What then?’ asked Metellus.

‘We’ll travel down the gorge,’ said Uxal, ‘until we find water, and we’ll continue until this dry gully turns into a stream and then a torrent. We’ll go on until we find a confluence. It won’t be an easy march, but at least we’ll be out of sight and we’ll be using an itinerary that the scouts on horseback won’t be able to follow. If I’m not mistaken, west of here flows the Khaboras, which has its source at a beautiful oasis where it will be much easier either to lie low or to find a way out, acting as an armed escort for a caravan, for instance. Those caravans go everywhere, all the way to the heart of Asia. At a day’s march from the oasis, we’ll be able to board a ship on the river and reach the shore of the Ocean. There, I’d say, we’ll finally be safe and each of us can go his own way.’

‘How can we repay you?’ asked Metellus.

‘You already have. As I speak I’m a free man, I’m breathing in this splendid evening air and I’m surrounded by friends. Even if this were my last night on earth, it would have been worth it. But you can take your time thanking me. Lots of things can happen between here and the Ocean shore.’

‘True,’ replied Quadratus, ‘but you’re right about one thing: it will have been worth it. I’ve only just realized that dying as a free man is just as important as living.’

‘Remember,’ Uxal started up again, ‘we’ll be doing all this by night. There mustn’t be any trace of our passage the next day or they’ll track us down in no time. If they were to find us, we’d have no choice but to seek death. If that should ever happen, you must promise me that the first blow of your swords will be for me. If they catch me alive, there’ll be no end to my suffering.’

Metellus held out his hand. ‘You have the word of a Roman officer,’ he said. ‘It’s worth more than an oath.’

‘Good. And now let’s look for shelter for when the sun comes up. Two of you go up the gully, another two go down. The first to find adequate shelter will come back to tell the others. Don’t make a sound; don’t so much as breathe! If they find us, we’re dead.’

Metellus sent Quadratus and Antoninus downstream, Balbus and Septimius in the opposite direction.

It was Septimius who first found a cavity behind a rocky spur, well hidden by a slab of limestone. ‘When I was a boy,’ he said, ‘I’d spend the summers up at my uncle’s house in the mountains. I’d love searching for caves. I wouldn’t miss a single one! Come on. This one’s nice and big.’

His comrades followed him as silently as shadows and slipped into the crevice that let them into the cavern. There was dry sand on the floor and they all lay down, exhausted by the prolonged tension, the physical strain and the violent emotions of that long day. Metellus was first to stand guard, flanked by Uxal, who didn’t want to leave him alone.

‘You don’t trust me?’ asked Metellus, amused. ‘Do you know how many hours I spent on guard duty in the legion?’

‘In the legion you were healthy, well fed and strong as an ox. Now you’re a real wreck, and you desperately need to sleep. You’d be nodding off in less than an hour if I left you alone.’

‘And you won’t nod off?’

‘Old men don’t sleep much. And we like to talk . . . It’s a lovely night, Commander Aquila. That’s your family name, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, you don’t say! The name of a true soldier, by Jupiter! What else could you have become with a name like that?’

‘We say
nomen est omen
: your destiny is written in your name.’

Uxal changed the subject and looked back up into the sky. ‘Look at all those stars . . . what a wondrous sight! And to think it’s the same sky we had over our heads in camp.’

‘Right, but who ever saw it? When we came up from the mines, we were so exhausted that we’d collapse as soon as we finished that vile soup.’

Uxal pointed at a skeleton stretched out a short distance away between two boulders. ‘Who could that be?’

‘What does it matter? One of the many who died in that inferno.’

‘Well, he’s finished suffering now. Look at him grin, all his teeth in the air. He’s laughing at us, all our scheming, our worrying, all the little tricks we’re thinking up to prolong our miserable lives by a mere hair’s breadth. He knows that you’ve got to die and there’s not much you can do about it. That’s why he’s laughing. Don’t you think?’

‘Maybe. But he’s wrong. There’s not an instant of our lives that isn’t worth living. Even when I was surrounded by the worst squalor, the fact of living was important for me. The fact of seeing my friends, of seeing the dawn and the dusk, of hearing the birds sing or the jackals howl at night. It’s hope that keeps us going. Hope never dies. The hope of seeing my son, for instance.’

‘Ah, your son . . .’

‘In a few days it will be his birthday. If I were home we’d celebrate. I’d give him his own set of armour – I’d already spoken with a good craftsman who said he’d make it for me. And a military tribune’s cloak. How he dreamt of that! He’s a good boy, you know. He studies hard, respects his teacher. He’s intelligent and affectionate. When I came home from headquarters at night, he’d run up to me and unhook my sword from its belt, help me unlace my leggings. He’d bring me clean towels for my bath and sit there on the rim of the tub, asking me all kinds of questions.’

Uxal sighed. ‘It must be lovely to have children.’

‘If you’re lucky it is. Have you had children?’

‘How? To have children you need a wife. Who’d want someone like me? Sometimes I wonder what they might have looked like. Your son, what does he look like?’

‘He’s a handsome child,’ said Metellus. ‘He’s got deep black eyes like his mother’s, and his skin is soft and smooth, a beautiful golden colour.’

‘Isn’t he anything like you?’

‘Oh, certainly, of course. I think so. His character is like mine, his mannerisms, even the way he walks.’

‘You’ll find him again,’ said Uxal. ‘I’m sure of it.’

Metellus didn’t answer. His head dropped and he fell silent.

All at once, noises broke through the night air, the echoes of neighing horses, distant shouts. The two men exchanged an apprehensive look.

But almost immediately Uxal gave a toothless chuckle. ‘They don’t have a clue. Hee-hee-hee!’

‘Shut up,’ hissed Metellus. ‘You want them to find us?’

‘Don’t worry. They have no idea which way to turn! You know why? If there’s one thing they’re certain of, it’s that no one has ever got out of the third level alive. And that’s just how we stole away! By this time they’re searching everywhere: in the shacks, in the rubbish dump, in the hay loft. They’re checking the prisoners one by one, stripping them down, making them parade before the guards. I saw it happen once, a long time ago. Look!’ he said suddenly. ‘They’ve crossed over to the other side.’ He pointed at lights moving along the rim of the gorge on the side opposite the camp. ‘Do you know how far they’ve had to go to get over there? I’ve heard say that the gully is impassable for miles and miles, both upstream and down. That’s why they built the camp in that location.’

After a while, the horsemen were swallowed up by the night. Metellus checked the position of the stars and said: ‘It’s time for the second guard shift. I’ll go and wake Quadratus. You should try to get a little sleep yourself.’

When he was able to stretch out on the dry sand, in the natural warmth of the cave, Metellus felt at peace with himself and with his surroundings, and protected in that hidden recess. He slept a deep, albeit brief, sleep.

The light of the sun woke him, and Uxal’s voice: ‘What do you say to a shave, Commander?’

‘What?’

The old man was standing in front of him with a bowl of water, a sponge, scissors and a razor.

‘Where did you find those things?’

‘When I went back to get food and water, I saw there was plenty of other stuff in the storehouse and I helped myself. In the state you’re in, people will be able to tell from a mile away that you’re escaped convicts. A nice clean shave will make you look like gentlemen.’

Metellus willingly subjected himself to the torture as Uxal scraped away at his cheeks with a razor that had known better times and with scissors that must have been used to clip sheep. Despite all that, first Uxal and then all the others expressed their approval and they all lined up to receive the same treatment. That simple rite made them feel somehow that they’d been readmitted to respectable society and seemed almost to bode the return to a normal life.

T
HEY CAREFULLY
rationed supplies during their stay in the cave, thinking of the journey ahead of them, but Publius and Lucianus, who had served in Palestine and Arabia, soon noticed the presence of plants that produced small tubers tasting like hazelnuts which were very nourishing. They would go out after dark to gather them, camouflaging themselves with a coating of dust.

Trapping the asses was no simple task. Ropes were made by braiding plant fibres, nooses were fashioned and snares set, sacrificing a fair number of perfectly good tubers as bait. But in less than three days they had captured three asses, two females and a young male. They were brought, bucking and kicking, to the shelter to accustom them to the presence of humans and to the food they provided.

The men used the same fibres they had braided to trap the asses to make mats which they slept on and which could be used in the future for any number of purposes.

One day Metellus and Antoninus studied a way to climb up the gorge wall, and under cover of darkness they reached the rim, from where they had a view of the Aus Daiwa camp. From their vantage point they could see the agitated comings and goings of a number of patrols. Light signals flashed over the great deserted expanse that stretched in every direction to the horizon. They were still looking for them. They hadn’t given up yet.

Metellus decided to wait another couple of days before moving out, since in two days’ time there would be a new moon and the cover of complete darkness.

The men swathed the asses’ hoofs, loaded their armour on the beasts’ backs and covered them with mats. When the last glimmer of daylight had died away, they set off. They were in fine form, thanks to their forced rest and the nourishing food that had sustained them.

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