The Bones of the Earth (The Dark Age) (24 page)

Valgus drew a deep breath.

“
I myself led the next foray. I took fifty
cataphracti
, fully armed, into the  mountains. Understandably, we were unable to convince any of the locals to guide us, but our destination was not hard to find. We climbed higher, until we had to dismount and walk our horses.

“
Although it was summer, the weather grew unnaturally cold—too cold even for mountains, for these were not that high. The clouds gathered quickly and the sky grew very dark in  midday. And then we found one of the villages. I have never seen such devastation before. Bodies literally ripped apart. The savagery! It was the work of nothing…
human
. It could not have been! People had been crushed, the bodies literally smeared against the ground. I cannot imagine what it would have taken for men to do those kinds of things! And bodies burned—no, not burned, but horribly mutilated by something like burning, yet unlike it!

“
We all were sickened and dumbfounded by the horrors that we saw. And then
we
were attacked, doubtless by the same things that had perpetrated the horrors on the village. Two of my best, most experienced men, were flung from their mounts and dragged through the grass by something we could not see. They disappeared into the trees before anyone else could move, and then their screams … stopped.”

The room had grown dimmer. Javor looked out the open window and saw that dark clouds had gathered. Somewhere beyond the mountains, thunder growled.

Valgus continued: “That’s the first time I saw the dragon, Photius. It was huge—the length of two horses, with a neck half as long again and a tail like a snake, almost as long as the body itself, long legs with claws like an eagle, and a head like—well, I don’t know what. A lion? A lizard? Like nothing I have ever seen.

“
And wings! Huge, wide black wings like a great bat! It swooped down on us  faster than a falcon and crushed two more legionnaires in its talons. It laid into us like a lion among sheep, killing men—hardened warriors at will. Our arrows and spears were useless—they only bounced off its hide, which was covered with black scales that shimmered green. It would reach out with its neck and take a man in its jaws—huge, gaping jaws lined with rows of teeth like daggers that would pierce iron armour! Or with its talons that severed limbs like straw!

“
And from its mouth dripped a liquid that stank like brimstone and burned through flesh like a flame through paper. Ten men died horribly in minutes.

“
I never felt so terrified in my life. I have fought many battles, Photius, against men and armies with terrible machines of war, against fire and sword and spear, but I have never felt that I was facing Hell itself. And there it was before me.

“
I felt sure I was going to die, but I saw—or thought I saw—an opening. Right under the fiend’s throat, at the spot where the neck joined the body, I thought I saw a soft spot in the hide. So I took my lance and spurred my horse, but it reared and threw me. And that saved me, for the beast took my horse’s head right off. I have been thrown by horses before, and I still had my spear. So I charged on foot. No, I am not boasting about my bravery. No, I said, I felt I was about to die and that I should try to do something for my men while I breathed. So I charged forward, my spear in front of me, and drove the point into the beast’s underbelly.

“
Well, the spear broke, though I daresay I gave the beast a wound! It reared and roared and swiped at me, catching me in the side. One of the claws went right through the armour—hardened steel!

“
When my men saw me fall, they rallied. I don’t know whether it was the jab that I gave it or the sight of 30-odd legionnaires forming a
testudo
and bristling with spears, but it flew off. The wind from its wings knocked all the men down! But it was gone. My men pulled me out of there and we rode back to the fortress as hard and fast as we could, leaving behind the bodies of our fallen. No doubt they became fodder for some unholy pack.

“
And that, wise Photius of Constantinople and young Janus, is how I got this wound. It has never healed. The way it looks today is exactly how it has looked since that first day, despite the treatments and unguents of Roman surgeons and even the local witch. Nothing works. And it aches, my friends, it aches every moment of every day, and if I let it, the pain takes my mind back to the horror of the day I received it.”

Photius looked at the commander for a long time, and Javor wondered what the expression on his face meant. “Bring me my pack, legate,” he said finally. “I can help alleviate some of your suffering. A dragon wound is a very rare and difficult thing, but you are obviously strong to have survived it at all.”

Valgus pulled the bell cord again. “Bring their things in,” he ordered. They waited until, with a lot of clattering, two legionnaires dumped Photius’ and Javor’s packs, bows and weapons in an untidy heap on the floor.

“
Bring me a small brazier, three big jugs of water, seven wooden bowls and as many clean rags as you can,” Photius ordered. The legionnaires looked questioningly at Valgus, who just nodded.

When they returned, Photius ordered them to set up the brazier and set it alight, then sent them out again. He fussed around the brazier, putting water to boil and searching through his pack for his medicinal herbs again.

Javor looked outside. Below them, legionnaires and local villagers moved furtively around the courtyard, hardly speaking. He could see a blacksmith working, tapping as quietly as he could. He could also see an odd building, small and square and bearing, above its door, a plain cross symbol. He wondered what it meant. In the sky, clouds were moving fast, lowering and darkening as he watched. Again he heard a distant thunder, but saw no lightning.

When the water boiled, Photius measured it into bowls, and added a different powder to each one, creating a yellow, a brown and a green potion. He dipped the end of a cloth into the clear hot water and gingerly cleaned Valgus’ wound. The whole time, Valgus was silent. He didn’t grimace even when Photius poured hot water directly on the  gash, but watched closely.

Photius carefully poured the green potion into the wound, and had Valgus drink the brown one. As his last step, he smeared the thick yellow paste liberally on the wound. “That will help promote natural healing,” he said. “But as for supernatural, that must come from within you.” He gestured Javor over, and together they helped the legate to his feet. He seemed weakened by the attention, but peaceful. “Help me bind this afresh,” Photius told Javor. He had Javor hold a clean white rag on the wound, then took a long, thin roll of cloth and, muttering prayers, started to wrap it around the Roman’s body. Javor helped, and got into a rhythm with the old man, taking the roll from Photius’ hand, wrapping it around Valgus, then passing it to Photius’ other hand and repeating the process. Photius tucked the end in.

“
Nice job,” said the legate. They helped him into his tunic.

“
Legate, you must rest for the remainder of the day,” Photius advised. Valgus nodded and rang for his men again.

“
Meridius, take these two and their girl to Didius’ old quarters. Give them some food and wine, whatever they want. Then bring me some wine and make sure I’m not disturbed until suppertime.

“
Photius, Janus, I thank you. Please, join me for supper this evening. We have much to discuss.”

Meridius led them out, and two legionnaires carried their gear. They went out of the hall through a side door to a long, low building with several doors in it. It, too, looked battered and crumbling, but Javor saw the roof had new thatch.

“
Didius was the previous second-in-command here,” said Meridius as he held the door open for them. “He was killed soon after we arrived.”
By the dragon?
wondered Javor, but Meridius offered no further information.

Didius’ quarters were very similar to Valgus’, but a little smaller. There was the office, with a simple table and a number of chairs, and off to one side, a bedroom. It was the first time that Javor had seen a real bed—a platform raised above the floor, with a straw mattress and soft-looking sheets and a blanket. Two legionnaires brought in their gear, set down the packs and placed the armour and weapons carefully in racks made for them. They left and returned with two more beds, which they placed in the outer room. Another legionnaire brought Danisa, holding her by the elbow. Once inside the quarters, she wrenched her arm away and stomped into a corner, huffing but not saying a word.

A local followed with two jugs of wine, bread and cheese, setting them on the table. “This is Ulf,” Meridius said. “Ask him for whatever you need. Ulf, see that they get it, and quickly, mind!” He turned toward Photius. “Thank you. And if Ulf cannot get you what you need, send for me.” He saluted and left.

They looked at the food, then tore into it—even Danisa ate greedily. After weeks of camping food, of the game they had managed to catch and berries they had found while walking south, the simple meal was a feast. Javor drank the wine a little too quickly and started to feel light-headed. He slumped down on the bed and gazed up, out the window. The clouds were lifting again and the wind was dying down.

He was startled when Danisa said to Photius, “Would you mind taking your stuff out of my bedroom?” in a peevish tone.

Photius looked at her, then at Javor, and then smiled at Danisa. “Of course, my dear.” He dragged his things out and fussed to place them just as he liked.

Javor didn’t know what to say. Danisa looked down at him until she rolled her eyes and snorted, then turned on her heel, stomped into the bedroom and slammed the door.

“
Don’t worry, lad, a girl likes to have her privacy,” Photius said.

“
How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?” Javor asked.

“
Just long enough to convince the Legate that we’re not enemies of the Empire. And maybe to see whether his wound begins to heal at last.”

“
Is that what happens when a dragon hurts you? The wound never heals?”

“
No, that is very rare. In fact, I’ve never seen or heard of anything like that before. Usually, any encounter with a dragon is fatal.”

Javor wondered why his last two encounters with a dragon hadn’t been fatal for him or it, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he asked “What was that little square building with the cross on the front of it?”

“
That, my boy, was a Christian Church,” Photius took a big swallow of wine.

“
What’s a Church?”

“
That is the temple for the worshippers of a new religion. I have told you about those who worship one God, rather than many. Do you remember?”

“
Yah, yah. So they have to go to that building to worship?”

“
That is what they believe. The spirit of the One God comes to that building during their worship services and blesses them.”

“
This is the religion with they guy who was crucified, right? Oh! Now I get the cross! That’s the one he was killed on, right?”

Photius smiled. “Yes, and two days later He rose again to lead the believers. And ever since, His worshippers gather in their little communities. The Emperor Constantine converted to Christianity two centuries ago and made it the official religion of the Empire, and now today—well, let’s just say it doesn’t pay not to be a Christian within the Empire’s borders.”

“
Should I become a Christian?”

“
Do you believe in the One God?”

Javor thought about that. “I’m not sure. I guess it makes as much sense as many gods. Would the One—what’s its name, anyway?”

“
Most of the Christians call Him simply ‘God,’ and Jesus Christ is His son, they say. The old name is Yahweh, but many of the Christians prefer not to say His name. It’s a little superstition of theirs.”

“
Okay, so what do Yahweh and Jesus think about Perun?”