Empire of Dragons (27 page)

At the end of that brief military rite, Metellus stopped in front of the two
fabri
, Severus and Antoninus, to congratulate them. ‘I see you haven’t forgotten your trade.’

Antoninus stepped forward. ‘We have something for you, Commander,’ he said, and uncovered the breastplate they had hidden under a cloak. Fashioned for their commander and befitting his rank, the anatomical
lorica
was made of burnished iron, with the image of a gorgon carved in relief at the centre of the chest. Next to it was a brand-new helmet, made to measure in the caravanserai forge.

It was perfect, and polished as though it had just been crafted by a master armourer, and it took Metellus’s breath away. ‘But . . . how did you manage . . .’ he murmured.

‘We’ve been carrying it under the asses’ pack-saddles, half each, and we polished it up for you at the forge. You should have seen how shocked those barbarians were!’

‘Incredible!’ replied Metellus. ‘Help me to put it on.’

Antoninus lay it on his shoulders and Severus fastened the straps at his sides. Metellus could not help but remember the last time that someone had helped him to put on his armour. It had been in his own home, in Edessa, under the portico of the peristyle, as he was leaving to go to the emperor’s staff meeting. The home he had never returned to, that he would certainly find dark and empty – or occupied by strangers – if he ever managed to set foot in it again.

He sighed, then put on the helmet that Severus was holding out to him, and he appeared before his little army with all the imposing dignity of his rank. The long marches had toned his body as in the best of times; the muscles of his arms and legs were sculpted by months of continuous exertion and tanned by the sun of the Ocean and of the lofty peaks of the Caucasus of India.

Quadratus approached him, visibly moved. ‘
Salve
, Commander!’ he said, stiffening into a salute. ‘We await your orders, as always. If only we had our eagle!’

‘The eagle is here, in our hearts,’ replied Metellus, ‘and will instil us with courage, as it has in the past. We have defied the fury of the Ocean, the vortexes of the Indus, the tempests of the Paropamisus, and we are now only a step away from concluding our mission. As soon as we have accompanied Prince Dan Qing to his destination we shall finally begin our return journey. I am certain that we will see our homeland again, all of us, together, and I am sure that our return will make many tremble and others rejoice.’

He turned to allow them to file past in marching order and found Dan Qing directly before him, staring into his eyes.

‘What I have seen is impressive,’ said the prince.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Metellus.

‘I have never seen soldiers wear their armour with such pride, or show such a bond with their commander, and so much respect at the same time.’

‘Where I come from, no officer can exercise command unless he has earned the esteem and respect of his men. You cannot give orders unless you have proved that you can carry them out. You cannot demand any sacrifice from your soldiers unless you have shown that you are capable of enduring the worst sacrifice yourself. These are the men charged with your personal safety, and I can assure you that none better exist.’

Dan Qing nodded and touched his right palm with his left fist, a gesture of leave-taking that nonetheless avoided contact – it was certainly nothing like the vigorous shaking of hands that Metellus was accustomed to. The Roman replied with a nod of his head and gave orders to begin the march.

They advanced for several days along solitary trails through countryside scattered with bushes, pine shrubs and rattan cane, among which tall, majestic trees would rise every so often, where a depression in the rock held a thicker layer of fertile soil.

As time passed, the vegetation became denser and more luxuriant and streams of clear, quick-flowing water appeared, bubbling between towering rocks and over sparkling gravel beds. They began to see animals as well, mostly brightly coloured monkeys. Their fringed coats were golden and swayed to and fro with their every movement, while their legs were brown, as if they were wearing trousers of another colour. A big male crept close, until he was just a few paces away from them, and considered them with his old philosopher’s face, his snub nose, his small, shiny eyes like pin points.

Here and there the rock faces along the banks were carved with figures of animals – deer, bulls, ibexes with huge curved horns – and hunters in the act of tracking their prey with bows and arrows. There were magical symbols at times as well, so ancient that not even Daruma knew how to interpret them. This civilization seemed to be rooted in the very origins of mankind.

The caravan proceeded in single file given the narrowness of the valley; it was without doubt a tedious and difficult route, but for this reason it was little frequented. Before long, Metellus noticed that Daruma seemed nervous, continually glancing about and sometimes stopping as if straining to hear. Dan Qing as well would spin round suddenly, even if only at the rustling of the wings of a bird frightened out of the forest by the intruders’ approach.

It felt as if they were entering enemy territory rather than the homeland of their travelling companion. The general edginess spread to the men. Rufus and Publius, who had ventured into the forest, alerted by a strange noise, shouted out in fright as they found themselves face to face with a creature that proved to be completely innocuous. It was a kind of bear, with a black and white coat and spots on his face that resembled a mask.

‘Have no fear,’ said Daruma, who had run over at the sound of their shouts. ‘It eats only cane shoots.’

And yet even Metellus could not shake off the feeling of a foreign presence. He was a veteran of years of combat in the forests of Germany and Pannonia, and his instincts kept him on edge and prevented him from relaxing, even when the others seemed tranquil. The sudden flight of a flock of birds, the sound of twigs breaking under the paws of a fleeing animal, the haunting, insistent cry of a night bird: everything increased his tension, and he ordered his men to proceed with their weapons to hand. Dan Qing seemed more at ease again after a while; his gestures were calm and measured but expressed constant and continuous surveillance, along with the potential for instant reaction.

He wore a sword as well now, hanging from his belt, a weapon that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere; none of them could even remember where or when they had first seen it at the prince’s side. It was longer than the legionaries’ swords and the hilt was marvellously engraved with refined craftsmanship.

All at once Severus, who was scouting with Martianus about a hundred feet ahead of the rest of the convoy, shouted, ‘What was that? Did you see it? What was it?’

Metellus spurred on his horse and caught up with them. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘A bird!’ shouted Severus, opening his arms wide to approximate the wing span. ‘A bird as big as ten eagles!’

‘A monster,’ confirmed Martianus.

Metellus rebuked him: ‘Oh, come now. No such animal exists.’

He hadn’t finished speaking when a sharp swish was heard and an enormous shadow crossed over the ground, looking like the wings of a gigantic bat. Metellus raised his eyes instantly, but saw nothing more than a confused shape flying off over the thick foliage of the trees.

Dan Qing drew up. ‘What was it? What did you see?’ he asked with apprehension.

‘The shadow of a giant bird crossed our path,’ replied Metellus. ‘Twice. The first time, Severus and Martianus saw it, and I myself the second time.’

‘How could you tell it was a bird?’ asked Dan Qing.

‘Yes, how could you tell?’ gasped Daruma, who had ridden up on camelback.

‘In the sky there are only clouds and birds,’ replied Severus. ‘And since I’m certain it was not the shadow of a cloud, it must have been a bird. The shape of the shadow looked like a bird. The commander saw it as well.’

‘Are there creatures so large in this land?’ Metellus asked Daruma.

Daruma hesitated. ‘We are in the Empire of Dragons, don’t forget that.’

‘We also heard a slight rustling sound, like a swish of air,’ added Martianus. ‘But it was just for an instant. When I looked up to the sky, whatever it was had already vanished beyond the edge of the ravine.’

‘I fear that our arrival has not passed unobserved,’ said Dan Qing. ‘Perhaps what you saw was someone spying on us . . . from the sky.’

‘Someone?’ repeated Metellus, stunned. ‘What do you mean by “someone”? A god? A demon? A winged dragon?’

‘A man,’ replied Dan Qing darkly. ‘And now he knows we’re here.’

The prince was quite uneasy now, eyes darting to every leafy bough. All at once, a barely perceptible noise was heard and his sword flashed through the air. A pine cone falling from a tree hit the ground, cut neatly in two, while the squirrel responsible for the false alarm fled squeaking, leaping from one branch to the next.

They all looked at Dan Qing in amazement as he sheathed his sword in a gesture of incredible precision.

‘From this moment on, we must proceed with the utmost caution,’ the prince said. He then remounted his horse and resumed the journey at a slower pace.

Antoninus, who was marching alongside Rufus, whispered, ‘I told you, he’s not a man. He must be a god, or a demon.’

Metellus approached Daruma. ‘What was the prince referring to when he said it was a man . . . I mean, that the shadow that flew over our heads was a man? He can’t expect us to believe that men can fly in this country.’

‘I don’t know what he was referring to. I have heard strange rumours lately. What I can say is that the knowledge of this people is very advanced. Their civilization is over two thousand years old.’

‘I’m tired of these mysteries and of him acting as if he were some kind of god. I can’t wait to turn back. How much further is it now?’

‘I can’t say precisely. We haven’t taken the usual route. We’re journeying along the bottom of this ravine to stay out of sight, but I think I know where we’re headed. Let’s go on now. Try not to worry any more than necessary.’

They proceeded along the steeply sided wooded valley that bordered the torrent for four more days without anything strange happening. The tension abated and no one thought any longer about that mysterious shadow that had crossed their path. On the evening of the fifth day, when everyone seemed to have nearly forgotten the episode, a suffocated cry suddenly made them all snap to attention: one of caravan drivers tumbled to the ground, run through by an arrow. Another dart whistled past Antoninus’s head and stuck fast in a tree trunk.

‘Take cover, men!’ shouted Metellus. ‘Protect the prince!’

Before he could finish giving instructions, a barrage of arrows flew through the air, striking more men of the caravan and piercing the shields of the legionaries, who had raised them in their defence. A swarm of armed men dressed in black rushed out of the forest and fell upon Dan Qing and his defenders, swords drawn.

The Romans were still in marching order at the moment of the attack and could do nothing but turn to face the enemy. They felt vulnerable, in danger of being surrounded and eliminated one by one.

‘Retreat towards me, fast! Disengage and retreat!’ shouted Metellus. ‘Regroup!’ But he was already being assaulted full force by a shower of blows.

The agility of these warriors was unnerving, their movements lightning swift. Metellus tried to fend off his assailant’s thrusts with his shield and sword, and backed up slowly in an attempt to flank Dan Qing, who, he sensed, was not far behind him. He found the prince at his side at the same moment in which he was attacked by two more of the enemy. They whirled their dazzling swords, more like lightning flashes than blades. Dan Qing responded with the same formidable dexterity. Metellus raised his voice above the fury of that frenetic attack to make himself heard by his men, who were falling back as he had ordered, step by step, bringing their shields up to meet every blow.

He saw Rufus launch his javelin through the air at one of those leaping demons, who crashed to the ground with the sound of shattered bones. Quadratus broke another man’s spine with the edge of his shield, while Publius and Severus, back to back, attempted to protect each other from the overwhelming onslaught of the enemy.

‘Rufus is wounded! Rufus is down!’ Metellus heard all of a sudden, and saw Balbus and Severus tightly closing ranks to defend the fallen man.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dan Qing’s arm bleeding, and then his side, and he was pervaded by a fury that he had not felt in a very long time. An awesome energy burst from his chest and spun around his head like a cloud of fire. He smashed the face of the warrior in front of him with a butt from his helmet, whirled and stuck his
gladius
into the back of the warrior attacking Dan Qing, who was struggling to fight on.

‘Men, to me!’ he shouted, so loud that his voice could be heard over all the shrill, strident cries of the enemy.

As if by miracle, he found them drawing close, one after another, and as they pulled back, the distances between them diminished until they were shoulder to shoulder. Three of the enemy warriors were still assailing Metellus and Dan Qing, but they were cut off now from their comrades, separated by the compact line of Roman soldiers. Six of them walled the enemies off, while Quadratus and Balbus turned to come to the aid of their commander. The three attackers were cut down one after another, but Dan Qing, who had been wounded, was in danger of succumbing. Metellus shouted, ‘Close ranks!’ and the little army tightened around the weakened prince, enclosing him within the wall of their shields.

The enemy unsheathed other weapons, long pointed harpoons, and launched into spectacular leaps in order to strike from above, but the Romans foiled their intentions by lowering the visors of their helmets to meet the curved tops of their heavy shields and reacting swiftly with their swords. Their defence was impenetrable now. The battle raged on, but this time to the advantage of the Romans. Every time Metellus gave an order the barrier of shields opened and javelins flew out, striking with inexorable precision. All at once, as Metellus raised his head for an instant to take a breath, he spotted some of the assailants up in the trees, about to leap on to Dan Qing behind the lines of his defenders. He shouted, ‘
Testudo!
’ The six men took a step back and raised their shields over their heads. The attackers landed on an impenetrable ceiling studded with swords and daggers protruding from between the shields. Their feet and legs slashed, the warriors fell and were immediately finished off. Two more, who had fallen inside the circle, were run through by Roman javelins.