The Bones of the Earth (The Dark Age) (47 page)

“
Row!” the captain screamed, and the oars dipped haphazardly into the water, knocking into each other. “Row!” The galley shuddered as it started to resist the current again. Gradually, the crew got their rhythm back and the boat made its way to the survivors.

There were no more than a dozen, out of a thousand men. None of them was unwounded. When the galley reached the shore, Austinus and Theodor leaped over the rail. Javor clumsily toppled over, fell headfirst into the water and came up sputtering. He struggled to shore, pulling his cloak out of the mud.

“
Who’s in charge here?” Austinus demanded, in Latin.

A Legionnaire used a stick to help himself climb to his feet and limped closer. “I suppose I’m the ranking officer left,” he rasped. He was young, covered in blood from head to foot. He had removed his helmet and his cropped hair was caked with blood and grime. His armour was dented and dashed open in places, and a fresh scar ran across his neck. One arm hung uselessly at his side, and the other hand desperately gripped the long stick he used to help him walk. He touched the top end of the stick to his head as a half-hearted salute. “Volusus Salustus. Are you the party that was following us?”

“
Yes, Centurion. Is this all that’s left of the Legion?”

Salustus looked around and nodded. “Aye.”

Beside Salustus, only two of the dozen survivors could stand. One young man wept as he bent over another who lay prone in the ash and mud; he was bleeding from the mouth as well as several wounds on his body. Another man with blood all the way up his arms was slowly winding a strip of cloth around the stump of his friend’s leg. Two others sat in the mud, staring down; still another stared up at the sky, oblivious to everything around him.

“
What happened?” Austinus demanded. Javor had trouble understanding much of what followed—Latin was, after all, his third language.

“
We were trapped,” Salustus said. He looked around for something to sit down on, and finding nothing, squatted in the mud. “We were following the trail of the barbarians who attacked the capital and stole the imperial hostage, Ingund. They weren’t hard to follow—they left a trail a mile wide of food they stole from farms and inns, plus they left a lot of garbage behind. We took boats up the river from Drobeta. Then, a mile or so back,” he waved vaguely downstream, “we saw a group of refugees. We pulled to shore, and they told us that they came from a village not far away. We should have known it was a lie! There have been no settlements this close to the river since Attila’s time!

“
But they told us a group of raiders had come upon them, slain a bunch, stolen their food and headed upriver on horseback. From their description, we knew it was our quarry. So we disembarked and started marching.

“
It was almost nightfall when they attacked. Hundreds of them, some on horse, and they went through us like wolves among lambs. You see what happened.”

“
But you are a Legion of Rome!” exclaimed Austinus.

Salustus closed his eyes in pain. “We were. We were proud. We were mighty. Hail Rome!” He drew a shuddering, painful breath. “But we were not fighting against men. We were fighting demons from Hell, commanded by the Devil himself.” He opened his eyes again and Javor could see the pain, the fear and the terrified honesty in them. Valgus had looked like that when he had spoken about the dragon. “They came toward us as men, but as the sun went down, they—they
changed.
They transformed into monsters,” he whispered. “Demons. Goblins. I don’t know what they were, but they were not human!

“
Some were huge, with scaly hides. They literally ripped men apart, limb from limb! Some were small with horns and sharp fangs like daggers. Some were like masses of snakes with a hundred hands and heads. They sucked the blood out of men’s bodies where they stood. They laughed as they cut us down.

“
But the worst of all came later. Once they had killed half the Legion, the monsters withdrew into the blackest night I have ever seen. What was left of us, the Legate ordered into
testudo
formations, impregnable.

“
Then
it
came. We couldn’t see
it.
It
was dark in a dark night, but huge and terrible.
It
came silently, then tore through the company and killed Legionnaires by the score! Men barely had time to scream before they died, and then
it
moved on to the next
testudo
and ripped it apart. And the next, and the next. One thousand men dead, helplessly, in a matter of hours.

“
Some of the Legionnaires tried to run. They broke ranks, but the rest of us could hear the other monsters fall on them with terrible laughter. We heard our brothers torn apart, drained, eaten, crushed.” Tears were running down Salustus’ face.

The crew got the survivors onto the galley. Malleus and Theodor tried to bind their wounds and make them as comfortable as possible.

“
We’re not going another foot upriver,” growled Theon, the galley captain.

“
But we commissioned you, we
paid
you—” said Malleus.

“
We agreed to take you to the Legion, and we did,” said the captain. “And this is what’s left of it. There’s nothing that’s going to convince me to go any farther.”

“
We’re not going, either,” said Alewar, the Goth captain. “We’re not going up against anything that killed a thousand Legionnaires.”

“
Wait,” Theodor asked. “What happened to General Priscus?”

Salustus laughed grimly. “He left us at Drobeta. He sent us along, said he had to attend to some business, and took off with his personal bodyguard. I guess he had no desire to fight an unbeatable foe.”

The next morning, Javor watched the galley sail away, back downriver. The crew had a much easier time going back to Rome, with both the wind and the current behind them. Aboard were the crew, the slaves, the small company of Goths and the ten survivors of the cohort of Legionnaires—two had died of their wounds through the night.

Standing on the bank were Javor, Austinus, Theodor and Malleus. Javor honestly wished he were going back with the Legionnaires. At the moment, he didn’t feel as anxious to retrieve his dagger. For the first time in his life, it occurred to Javor that he may not survive this adventure.

Chapter 30
:
Barbarians and monsters

“
Do you really think we’re going to find your dagger, or the dragon, by following the company of soldiers who rescued the princess Ingund?” Brother Theodor asked Javor. They were walking upriver on the old Roman road along the western bank of the Danuvius.

“
Well, I had a feeling…my amulet seems to think that we are heading toward the dagger,” Javor said, not entirely sure how much of that was true. But something was urging him northward, and it wasn’t just his desire for Danisa. “But you’re right, it does seem like an unlikely chance.”

“
Now is awfully late to bring that point up,” Malleus snarled behind him. He had been in a foul mood all day and kept tugging on the straps of his pack where they dug into his shoulders.

Summer was almost on them. The sun shone hot and the air carried scents of flowers and growth. The young leaves on the trees were still light green and flowers danced in the breeze. To their right, they could sometimes hear the swirl and might of the river, and all around were the sounds of birds and crickets.

But there were no people. In the two days since they had watched the galley row back downriver, they hadn’t seen a settlement, farm or even a lone person. Not a cow or a pig. There were deer from time to time, and once Theodor pointed out a fox darting across the old road.

One phrase repeated in Javor’s mind:
What is the connection?
Danisa, the Gothic-Sklavenic raiders, the dragon, his dagger.
What is the connection?

The road itself was a marvel to Javor: straight and almost flat, except for a slight incline from the high point in the middle, down on each side to allow rain to run off it. The light-coloured, almost perfectly square stones fit together so tightly, there was not a blade of grass growing between them.

“
This land was recently part of the Empire,” Austinus explained. “But over the past two centuries, successive waves of invasion and almost constant warfare have depleted its population. Once, the Vandals attempted to settle here, but they were driven out by the Goths, who were themselves driven out by the Huns. And now, the Avars have nearly destroyed anything that was left.”

“
Oh, that’s an oversimplification,” Brother Theodor argued.

Javor was amazed at these Greeks’ ability to argue even when they were walking into danger, carrying heavy packs and sweating under the late spring sun.

Brother Theodor was even more curious: no matter the heat, he kept his hood on his head. “To protect me from the sun,” he said. Javor tried it, but removed his hood when his head got too hot.

Austinus and Theodor walked side by side, arguing happily about the activities and blame of various barbarians. Javor fell into step beside Malleus, but didn’t try to talk to him—he was apparently still angry.

“
Can you not see a plan in the calamities that have struck all the civilizations?” Brother Theodor’s smooth voice carried back. “Earthquakes, plagues, repeated attacks by successive waves of uncivilized hordes? And not just against Rome, but against the settled peoples who once lived peacefully beyond its borders. And also against Persia, Bactria—which has disappeared, by the way. Even ancient Serica has been divided into two kingdoms because of pressures and calamities.”

Some days, the Danuvius River was close by on their right, and at others it meandered away. At night they would camp under some sheltering trees or stones. Austinus made sure they stayed away from ruined villages and towns they passed, even if they had to take a wide detour. “It’s best to stay away from places of death,” he explained.

One evening, one such abandoned town came into view as the sun sank. Javor was the first to see its ancient jetties in the river. Austinus decided to stop for the night before getting closer to the town. They camped downstream from the crumbling walls. As Theodor bent over the fire to make supper, his hood fell back. The setting sun outlined the thin face, the straight nose, the long neck. It was as if confirming something Javor had known all along, but it was still a shock.

“
Mother Tiana?”

She turned toward him and smiled. “Yes, Javor?”

“
It’s been you all along?”

“
Who did you think it was?”

“
Brother Theodor! But where is he?”

“‘
He’ is right here,” she said, smiling her indulgent smile.

Javor took some time to think about that. There never had been a Brother Theodor—it was just a robe that Tiana wore to allow her free movement about the Abbey. And the relationship with Austinus—now their closeness made sense.

Ideas fell into place.
The raid. Danisa. The dragon, Sarbox. It was planned. I allowed the dagger to separate from the amulet, which allowed the dragon to find it. The riot was a diversion, allowing the raiders to attack the city. And the dragon chose that moment to strike.

It’s all connected. Danisa was after my dagger from the beginning.

She never loved me.

Javor realized that his birthday would be soon. It would be nearly a year since he had left his home. He wondered how far away home was, now, and what the people in his village were doing. Were they getting ready for the
kupalo
festival? Were they even alive? He thought of Elli, her thin body in the moonlight. He thought of his parents and almost cried, when he felt his amulet tremble.

Danger.

“
Do you hear that?” Tiana whispered. In the failing light, Javor could not see Tiana’s face.

“
What is it?” Austinus whispered back. “I don’t hear anything.”

“
There are people in the town,” Malleus muttered. He crept a closer, making sure he remained hidden under trees. They could see the glow of fires in the town, and hear voices.

“
The town looked deserted in the daylight,” Austinus said.

They waited until the sun set, then picked up their weapons and stole closer, trying to stay in the shadows. The moon hadn’t risen, so the night was as dark as any Javor could remember.

The amulet trembled.
I know, amulet. Thank you for warning me. From now on, I will call you “Preyatel”—good friend.

Even the swishing of grass against their ankles alarmed Javor. They all tried to be silent. They peeked over the remnants of the town wall—little more than a row of stones, chest-high, wrecked by some battle.

Javor’s amulet started vibrating harder, faster.
Danger
! said its voice in his head.

Don’t worry, I’m being careful. No one can see me.

Behind the wall’s meagre protection was a camp: little fires burned in a circle. Men in leather armour finished a meal and got ready for the night. One man, a commander of some kind, was telling others who would stand watch.

They were tall, and in the flickering firelight they appeared fair-haired. They all had ragged beards and most had scars; they seemed to have been travelling for a long time.

Then Javor realized that he could understand them!

“
Where are they?” one warrior asked another. “We’ve been waiting here a week!”

“
Shut up,” the other growled in a low voice. “Don’t let Stanislaw hear you complain. As far as I’m concerned, the longer
they
take to get here, the better.”

So that’s how we caught up with them: they’ve been waiting here.

“
Well, still, this place gives me the willies,” said the first warrior.

Javor crouched back down. “They aren’t Goths, they’re Sklavenes!” he whispered.

“
And they’re waiting for someone,” said Tiana.

“
What? How did you know?” Javor whispered.

Tiana smiled her patient smile. “Because I speak Sklavenic.”

Javor didn’t know what to think of that, and the amulet didn’t help—it kept clamouring in his mind,
Danger! Danger! Danger!

“
I knew they were Sklavenic from their weapons!” Malleus hissed back. “So what?”

“
So I can talk to them!” said Javor. “They’re not the people we’ve been looking for!”

“
Is that so? Then how did they get the Gothic princess?”

“
What?”

Malleus slowly put his head over the wall and squinted into the firelight and smoke. He pointed across the biggest fire.

Too many surprises in one day.
Javor tried not to let the amulet distract him too much as he stood up to look over the wall again. Across the fire, a young woman sat on a wooden stool. She wore a thin tunic and a necklace glittered around her neck. There was no doubt it was Ingund: thin, long nose, large eyes, hair that seemed to flow from her head and over her shoulders like water.
Danisa
!

She didn’t act like a captive. She seemed completely at ease, talking comfortably with the rough warriors around her, stretching her delicate feet toward the fire and wiggling her toes. She even had what appeared to be a decorative knife in a jewelled scabbard, attached to a jewelled belt around her waist. Javor was struck again by how much she resembled Elli.

Danger! Danger is coming closer!
said the amulet.

They slumped down again behind the wall. “Okay, it’s her. She was rescued by Sklavenes, not Goths.”
It’s all right, Preyatel. We’re hidden back here.

“
She must be Sklavene, herself,” said Tiana. “Or at least, she speaks their language.”

“
Or maybe her guards speak Gothic,” Austinus countered.

“
She’s Sklavene,” Javor whispered, and ignored the questions about how he knew that. His amulet seemed to catch fire. “What do we do now?”

In answer, something hit Javor hard on the side of the head. He tumbled to the side, landing on his back in time to see Austinus flying over the wall straight into the warrior’s camp. There was sudden yelling from all around as men scrambled for their weapons. Malleus had his sword out but was knocked on his face by something in the dark. Tiana, back against the wall, lifted her hands and rapidly recited a spell. There was a flash of light from everywhere at once and for an instant they could all see their attackers: five warriors carrying double-recurved bows with arrows aimed at them, and one with a cudgel who had done all the damage.

Then more Sklavenic warriors jumped over the wall, swords out.

“
Qui vado!” shouted one, misusing Latin as the common language.

“
It’s me!” Javor replied in his own tongue, hoping to give the idea they were friendly. “It’s Javor!”

Red light flared, then flickered as more men came with torches, bows and drawn swords. They grabbed Javor, Tiana and Malleus, but Tiana waved her hands again and there was another flash of light. The warriors sprang back, yelling. An arrow flew over Javor’s head as one archer fell back onto his butt.

“
Hold it!” yelled another warrior in Sklavenic, and in the torchlight they could see him pulling a dazed Austinus forward. “No one move or I cut your friend’s throat!” The warrior stepped closer, shoving Austinus, who stumbled, and they could all see the knife at his neck. “Who are you?”