Terrasidius let go of my hair and I fell forward, scrabbling inthe dirt. I looked up and saw Belis, tears streaming down her face. She tried to reach for me but her wrists were too tightly bound. I crawled forward but someone grabbed the back of my tunic and hauled me up onto my feet. I swayed, suddenly weak from the blood loss and feeling the adrenaline drain from my body. Strong hands steadied me and forced a waterskin into my mouth. I drank greedily. My own hands were tied in front of me, the coarse rope twisting into my flesh. I winced at the pain.
“Behave yourself today and perhaps I’ll loosen them a little tomorrow,” said Terrasidius. “Once you’ve proved yourself more trustworthy. You understand me, you speak Latin?”
I nodded. He sighed. “You really would have sold for a good price then. Pity that the commander never breaks his word.”
He poured water onto a rag and cleaned the worst of the blood from my neck then wiped down his sword before sheathing it.
“Don’t want you bleeding all over my cloak,” he said, almost to himself.
I twisted around to look for Belis, desperate to meet her eyes if only for a moment. If I could at least see her, to know if she had a plan or if she had just said anything she could think of to help me. The bag had been shoved back onto her head and Centurion Croser was checking her shackles, tightening them until she hissed in pain. He said something I couldn’t hear and a soldier bent to tug off her boots, while another searched her for weapons. I saw the legionary tug at the cord around her neck and felt a sudden rush of panic. The thread held and the man shrugged and dropped it, the whelk shell settling back next to her skin.
Terrasidius left me to shout instructions to the other Romans. They scattered back into the woods, returning with horses, sturdy hill ponies. The saddles and tack were plain and I guessed they had bought or commandeered the beasts. The Romans climbed into the saddle. Belis was boosted up behind one of the smaller men on a stamping black gelding, while Terrasidius pushed me onto a shaggy bay mare then swung up in front.
Croser launched himself into the saddle of a gleaming grey horse. He gripped the reins and swung her in a circle, inspectingthe line of troops. Many of the legionaries looked uncomfortable on horseback and I wondered how many of them had ridden before. Maybe there was an advantage to be taken. If I could just get my hands loose then I could try to free Belis. I was sure she could outride most of the Romans, especially after they had spent a few days awkwardly in the saddle.
Satisfied with his review, the centurion kicked in his heels and moved to the front of the pack, tucking his knife into a pocket on the saddle.
He whistled and the men stopped grumbling to each other and turned to look at him.
“There’s a week’s hard riding between us and Londinium. We have lingered in these woods too long and I am sure you are eager to be back in what counts for civilisation on this miserable clod of an island.”
There was a general grumble of agreement. Croser paused for them to settle down.
“We’ll go swift and steady, changing horses rather than resting them. I’ll brook no delays. Anyone who falls behind is left behind, to the tender mercies of the local savages. Either of our prisoners tries to escape I want you to cut them down. I’d rather come back with bloody hands than empty ones. One final push, lads, and we’ll be done with this and there’ll be a fine bonus waiting at camp along with a round of wine on me!”
A ragged cheer went up through the legionaries and the centurion dug his heels in, leading us into the dark of the trees.
Chapter 19
Raindrops stung my face as we rode through the storm. I huddled closer to the wool-covered bulk of Terrasidius’s back, trying to keep as much of him as possible between me and the oncoming sleet. Our horse slipped, hooves sliding into the sucking mud of the field we were riding through. The Roman cursed under his breath, fighting to keep his seat. I clung to his sodden cloak with my hands, the ties stopping me from getting a secure hold. Terrasidius urged the horse forward, breaking into a canter to get free of the mire. I was jostled back and forth, feeling more bruises blooming along my legs.
We had been riding for days, stopping only to sleep. Croser had called a halt three times to change horses, first at a tiny fishing village where the headman had come out to trade, and twice at Roman camps. I suspected the centurion was keeping the identity of his prize hidden. He showed no inclination to talk with the camp guards, thrusting a battered scroll sealed with a gob of red wax at them and sending them running to fetch fresh mounts. The village headman had asked no questions either, taking care not to peer too closely at the legionaries and scurrying back into the houses with the lathered horses we had given him alongside a half-sestertius. I had debated screaming for help but Croser had positioned two guards either side of me during the changeover and their hands never strayedfrom their sword belts. Probably for the best – even if the villagers had been inclined to help us the Romans would have cut through them like a blade through water. I didn’t consider causing trouble at the camps.
When we stopped to rest the centurion positioned half the troops on watch all night, forming an impenetrable wall of swords between us and freedom. The horses were hobbled before we were even lifted from the saddle and dumped on the ground. Sleep was almost impossible the first night, until Terrasidius insisted the men needed a fire to keep them from freezing. I managed to shuffle close enough to the heat to flush some feeling back into my fingers and ears. Better still, I could glimpse Belis through the glowing flames where she lay on the opposite side of the camp. The Romans kept the bag on her head while we were riding but took it off in camp so that she could eat whatever hardtack they threw to us. I curled up to gnaw on the biscuit and stare over at Belis. If we tried to speak one of the legionaries would shut us up with a kick but they couldn’t stop us looking at each other.
Her face was still bruised but she was no less beautiful to me. I wanted to reach out and cup her cheek, to hold her so tight the Romans couldn’t tear us apart. She lay and smiled back at me, and I felt new strength in my chest. There had to be a way out of here. I knew this would not be the end for us. I wondered what her plan was, or if she had thrown down her sister’s name in desperation, just to save my life. I knew whatever the cost to us that we could not lead the Romans to Cati, knew that was Belis’s and therefore my first priority. She had told Croser to go around the southern tip of the Chalk. We would be passing near Cati if not stopping. If we had a moment to get free, we had a chance of reaching her.
The horse beneath me stumbled again, this time going down onto its knees in the mud. Terrasidius hissed in frustration and slipped to the ground, leading the animal by the bridle through the sludge. I shuffled forward in the saddle, trying to get into a position where I might take control of the horse. We had beenriding near the end of the column; Belis and her guard were ahead of us, close to the centurion. Several legionaries were between us. I measured the distance, wondering if I could lean down to yank a sword from Terrasidius’s belt before he realised what was happening and barrel my way through to Belis. It was unlikely that I’d be able to kill him quickly or quietly enough to make it. What else then? Should I ride off into the night, breaking free to come back and make an attack later? That seemed like a better option. I considered it, weighing the choices in my mind. The horse clambered back to its feet and skipped forward, momentarily wrenching the reins from Terrasidius’s hands. I dived for the reins, missed, and fell from the saddle into the mud at the legionary’s hobnailed boots. He peered down at me.
“I shall assume that was not an escape attempt,” he said, in Latin, “because if it was, I’d have to skin you alive and that sounds like a bitch of a job in this rain. But if you do it again then I’ll make the effort. Understand me?”
I scowled up at him through the mizzle and splattered my way to my feet. He smirked at me and clicked his tongue to the horse, which wandered back towards us. In a moment we were back in the saddle and had caught up with the rest of the column and the opportunity was gone.
I wanted desperately to speak to Belis. I doubted the soldiers spoke much Brittonic but we were never close enough to talk, much less whisper to each other. Even when I had tried to call out to her in Latin the centurion had ridden back to warn me against it. I had to know if Belis had a plan, if there was anything I needed to do. This was the worst of it, worse than the miserable weather, the bumps and bruises from riding and the constant chafing of the rope against my skin. I was truly helpless.
The miles between us and Watling Street were ticking away faster now as we drew closer to the heart of Roman-occupied Britain, the roads improving every day. I went over the route in my head, calling up memories from my travels as theNightshade. Our path would not take us near enough to any possible allies, no Greenteeth pond or goblin stronghold to lead the Romans to. I remembered the wight we had stumbled into on the journey to Annwn and cursed it again. Now was just the time an attack from some undead creature would be helpful. A wight or a lich could provide just the distraction we needed and I wouldn’t even begrudge it the meal of man flesh, but nothing lurched out of the woods or crawled from the streams as we passed.
We rode on, crossing the Severn at Glevum. It took three trips to carry the whole troop across. I had hoped to end up on the same leg as Belis but Terrasidius and I went across first with another two guards and the horses. By the time Belis was brought over with the last batch we were already mounted and ready to go.
From Glevum we joined the half-built Via Akeman, which curved north of the Chalk. The granite cobbles glistened wetly in the early winter rain. Riding on the road was still more uncomfortable and we were making better time now the horses didn’t have to fight for every step. Croser kept the men going without break, eating up the miles.
At dusk on the third day the road had disintegrated into loose cobbles and potholes. We had slowed to a trudge, the horses carefully picking their way through the rubble. I felt like my mind had lost its structure, too. I slumped in the saddle, drifting through thoughts of Annwn. To the right of the road rough limestone cliffs rose up, pale beige in the rain. The horse in front of us stumbled, breaking the mist of my thoughts. For a moment I thought she would go down but she found her footing, shaking her mane back with exhaustion. Her rider patted her neck approvingly then swore under his breath. Terrasidius urged our horse forward, passing the other Romans up to where the centurion led the squad.
“Sir, the horses are failing, the men, too. We should make proper camp for the night,” he called.
“We press on, Terrasidius, we have been gone too long fromthe legion,” Croser replied, not bothering to turn his gaze from the path ahead.
“We’ve been riding nonstop for three days already, there’s three days’ hard ride still ahead of us. The women are flagging. If you want a live captive to present to the legate we should get out of the rain.”
