Empire Of The Undead (26 page)

“It will not hold my weight,” he said. “Perhaps you will have more success.”

She smiled dubiously but approached him, placing her spear down carefully next to him. He clasped his hands together and boosted her up. Her fingertips just caught the edge of the roof and she grunted as she pulled herself up.

She was silent for a long time.

“Well?” Iullianus asked at last. “What do you see?”

“Zalmoxis!” Rowanna said.

“What?”

“Look to the hill.”

Iullianus swiveled his head. There were dozens of lifeless shambling unsteadily toward them. It was difficult to see through the fog, but they looked long dead—there were more bones than flesh, and their clothes were moldering and tattered.

“Get down,” he said, “we must flee.”

“I was wrong about one thing, at least,” Rowanna said as she sat on the edge of the roof. The big man moved to help her, but she jumped down before he could reach her. She leaned down and clasped the shaft of her weapon.

“Yes?”  Iullianus asked. The fastest of the undead were closing in on them.

“I would rather fight the Romans after all,” she said. She rose and hefted her spear. The heavy point drove into the face of a twitching lifeless a meter away. Her expression did not change as she stabbed at another, scraping flesh away from bone.

He grabbed the Dacian woman by her elbow. “We can’t win this fight. Nor hold out for long. We must flee.”

She snarled and jabbed her hardwood spear in the gut of an advancing lifeless. With a wrenching twist, she tore away its stomach and intestines plopped out. The monster did not stop, rather, it jerked forward as more long tubes of intestine spilled out.

“Let’s go. Now,” he said.

There were too many coming from the hill to the south, so they turned the way they had come. Once running, none of the lifeless could catch them, and the few that were in their way were felled by fists to the head, or simply knocked over by the advancing humans.

They hadn’t run for long, however, when Iullianus felt a powerful pain in his side. He tried to keep going despite it, but it was too acute to ignore. Rowanna ran awkwardly, her
pilum
held with both of her hands.

“Apologies,” he panted, “I cannot go on.”

“We can’t stop,” she said. “Keep going.”

“I cannot,” he said, breathing deeply. “Grant me a moment."

“I have you seen you run for hours and not tire," she said.

“This soldier needs more food than he’s been getting,” Iullianus said. He had always been healthy, able to out drink and outfight men a dozen years his junior. Now, some part of his body felt useless, atrophied.

She said nothing, but was looking past him.

“Look behind you,” she said.

He turned, and for a moment he was back in the forested mountains of Dacia. There was a horde, nay an army, of shambling monsters coming for them. There were more together than they had seen since leaving Dacia.

“There's no inspiration,” said Iullianus. “Like that of a thousand undead corpses running at you. I will run again.”

“Do not call them inspiration,” Rowanna said, "for they are the opposite—they are death, decay, and the end of dreams."

He turned and Rowanna shrugged and followed his loping, lupine run. They sprinted away, legs churning across the barren land. If the jagged stitch in his side did not lessen, neither did it worsen. He supposed that was no small favor. After struggling for too long, Iullianus slowed to a steady jog, and then finally to a gasping halt. Rowanna had slowed with him and she looked at him in askance. Iullianus looked carefully behind them, but the mists obscured their undead pursuers. “Let us make for the road,” Iullianus said. “A Roman patrol would perhaps distract them.”

"Is anything wrong?"
"My body feels strange. It's never struggled like this. I may be ill, but that's of no worry to you."

Rowanna nodded at this and together they headed back toward the road. When they had left the road, they'd moved half a day away from it. Here, further south, it must have swung toward them, for they found it not long after.

“Which way?” Rowanna asked.

“South,” Iullianus answered immediately. “We need to reach the sea. Now more than ever.”

It was raining again, as heavy sheets were cascading relentlessly upon them. The foreboding sky was pregnant with dark thunder. They both knew there were lifeless behind them, but it was too wet and too misty to see far at all.

The mud worsened as it grasped at their feet with a relentless clutching. For the first time in his life, Iullianus understood surrender. The endless struggle of survival was beginning to overwhelm him. He needed to stop, to rest. He turned to Rowanna to suggest a break, but the grim look of determination on her face shamed him and he said nothing. He concentrated on walking and not thinking of how cold he was.

As they walked, the rains eased up. It was still cloudy, mostly, but the sun shone over the soaked earth. The sunlight was a ray of warmth and life, and Iullianus felt his spirits warm along with his body. The road cut into a canyon, with high rocky walls on either side. The sun was high enough that it sparkled upon them even with the cliff walls straddling them.

"Be careful," Iullianus said after they had been in the canyon for some time. He had seen something moving. His eyes were unused to the light and he scanned the road ahead, one hand on his brow to block the sun.

There were more lifeless on the road ahead of them. They seemed to be looking for something.

Rowanna flicked her eyes at him and then back to the road. "I see them," she said. "We have to run once more."

So saying, the two of them jogged once more. The creatures were too slow and it was no hard matter to run around them. Iullianus whooped with pleasure as he knocked one down with his shoulder.

"You're feeling better," Rowanna said, as they emerged from the canyon at last.

“I am. Do you see this road?” he pointed to the long stretch of cobblestone. “All we have to do is follow it, and we will walk directly to the sea.”

“What about the Romans?”

“I doubt they have come this far south. They must protect the city itself, and can only journey so far.”

Rowanna nodded. “And how long must we travel down this road before we reach the sea?”

“Truly?  I do not know. I think less than a week.”

The sun was shining, they were making good on their escape, and they had a plan. Iullianus was so happy that he began whistling a jaunty camp tune. They strode through the afternoon, more light-hearted than he could remember. He was still whistling when they stumbled into the Roman camp.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Italy: 89 CE, Early Spring

The sound of Roman trumpets blasting was familiar to Rowanna, and until recently, it had always been the sound of the enemy. Even her time at the camp in Dacia had not taught her to think of it as anything but threatening. Here, she could see the trumpeters standing high in a watchtower. It was a sparse camp, unlike the one she had taken refuge in before. There was no trench, no palisade of sharpened wood. No defenses at all, though the layout of the camp was otherwise the same. They stood in the middle, near the commander's tent.

Within heartbeats, soldiers poured out, surrounding them. They held blades toward the pair, but as of yet had not attacked. Rowanna knew it was merely a matter of time, and she hefted her spear, ready to take as many with her as she could. Iullianus had opted for the opposite tactic. He had laid his swords on the ground and held his arms open widely.

“Salve,” he said, “I am Legatus Tettius Iullianus of the Legio XIII Gemina. We are not enemies. There is no reason for bloodshed.”

The men surrounding them separated looking to a medium sized, swarthy man who could have been no more than twenty. He stepped forward, the tension on his face visible. “Salve, Tettius Iullianus. I wish I could greet you as a friend, I truly do, but we are of the Legion Mortis. None meet us without tasting death as a result.”

Rowanna could tell posturing when she saw it, and knew a fight was coming. Were they Dacians, they already would be throwing punches. What did civilization do to men that made them act less like humans?  She took a deep breath, wondering which would be her first target. It would be difficult. These men all wore armor, and most of them were big Germanic warriors. She wondered if she would even be able to kill one of them before they got to her.

Iullianus took a halting step toward the spokesman. “I know, and I commend you for your strategy. However, we have come rushing from the wilds of Dacia with news about a cure.”

This had a visible effect on the man. He muttered something in Greek and moments later, the fattest man she had ever seen appeared. He could eat Zuste twice and not notice. The two conferred in low, hushed voices, and then the first man left, disappearing into the ranks.

“Felix has told me you speak of a cure.” the fat man said skeptically.

“It’s true. I have seen it,” Iullianus said. “So too has this woman, Rowanna of the Dacians. Our companion was an alchemist, and he could reverse the curse.”

“This is not something easily believed,” the fat man said. "I know of what I speak, and I have studied the works of Hippocrates of Thessaly. Long days have I spent toiling in search of a cure, but my vain efforts are fruitless and unworthy." The ring of men tightened up around the two. Rowanna felt the shaft of her spear growing sweaty in her grip and she considered striking now, before it was too late. The fat man looked directly at her. “Where is this alchemist?  Where is this cure?”

“That is something I can discuss with you later,” Iullianus said. “For now, there are more lifeless around here than I’ve seen in months, and they are coming this way. You can decide to kill us after, but for now, you need all the help you can get.”

“That seems reasonable,” the fat man said. “I— ”

“What’s this?”  The original spokesman had returned, but he had not come alone. The man with him was a Roman Senator, and he looked every bit as haughty and regal as he should. Rowanna hated him upon sight. She gripped her spear even tighter as she noted his lack of armor. When the fighting started, she knew where her spear would be aimed.

The fat man quickly explained to the Senator what had been discussed. As he did, the Senator regarded the pair before him with intense scrutiny. His face did not change, but Rowanna became aware of how grimy they must appear. Weeks of camping in the rain had left them entirely disheveled and dirty.

“You claim to have the cure with you?” he remarked when the fat man had caught him up.

“As good as,” Iullianus said.

"You speak Latin well, though I can hear a hint a barbarism in your accent,” the Senator said. “But we both know that 'as good as' means no.”

“That is true,” Iullianus was forced to admit. The Senator turned to the fat man.

“They don’t have it because it doesn’t exist. Really, Hyacinthus, you should know better.” Then the Senator said, “Kill them.”

“Wait,” called Iullianus. The legionaries drew their blades.

Rowanna did not hesitate. She sprang forward and jabbed her spear point into the nearest man’s face, just below his helmet. Blood spurted from the wound as she savagely jerked her spear back. Iullianus stepped forward and punched a tall Celt in the face. The force of the blow wrenched his head back. The big red-haired man drew the other’s gladius as he fell to the ground.

“Heed my words, for this fight is not wished by me,” Iullianus called to the Senator. “There is an army of lifeless coming the likes of which you cannot imagine. We don’t have to spill each other’s blood.”

Rowanna glanced down at the man she’d stabbed. Blood leaked from his face into the wet ground. He laid still and unmoving.
It’s too late for words
, she thought.

“We cannot take any chances,” the Senator said. His tone was heavy with finality. As he turned away, Rowanna whipped herself around and jabbed at a man who was easing toward her. She caught him in the arm, and one of the few places with no armor. He screamed his pain, and his weapon fell to the ground.

“Donar’s cock,” swore one of the Praetorians, “this woman is lethal.”

Trumpets sounded again from the makeshift towers. Rowanna could not see beyond the ring of men around her, but everyone was looking toward the road.

The Senator had stopped mere steps from his tent. “What is it now?”

The young man at his side was scanning the road. “It’s more lifeless,” he said. He sounded confused. "But they seem to follow a leader."

“Kill these two and go kill them, Felix,” the Senator snapped. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

"Yes, Senator," Felix said. He sighed and drew his weapon. The other Romans were mumbling. “I don’t like this,” muttered one of the soldiers closest to Rowanna.

The Senator looked at the road behind them, his mouth opened in shock. He closed it quickly, but even from where she stood, his face visibly paled. She swung her head around and saw a muddy battalion of lifeless advancing upon them. At their head was a large black corpse. It had a whole in its chest and was missing its lower jaw, but it moved with more speed and grace than any lifeless she had seen before.

  He paused, face stricken. Several heartbeats passed. Everyone seemed frozen, save for the advancing lifeless.

“I have changed my mind,” he said in a soft voice. “Adriax, summon your guard to me. Felix, lead the men—two formations, you understand. And Hyacinthus, prepare for the worst.”

His gaze fell upon Rowanna and Iullianus. “You two, you may join our fight, should you wish.”

“Senator,” said the injured Praetorian, “she killed Marcus, and the bone is sticking out of my arm.”

“You shouldn’t have let her stab you,” the Senator snapped. “And Marcus was a daydreaming fool.” 

The injured Praetorian dropped his shield and reached for his blade with his good hand.

“Bugger all that,” he said. “He owed me money.”  His sword was in his hand and he stepped toward the Dacian woman.

  Rowanna readied her spear, wishing she was fighting a lifeless. How could she strike against so much armor?  Before either of them had moved another step, Iullianus was behind the man. The red-haired man grabbed the other man’s helmet and exposed the Praetorian’s throat, resting the edge of his sword against the bulge in the man’s throat. He leaned in so close that his mouth nearly touched the man’s ear.

“This is the part where I should threaten you. Tell you that if you bother her again, you will die. You’d understand, begrudgingly, but you’d do it. In time, we’d grow to be friends.”

With a flash, he thrust his sword into the man’s throat. The sharp smell of blood filled Rowanna's nostrils, and she watched dispassionately as the dying man slumped to the ground. She wondered if she should feel something—she reached for sadness, for regret, but she found only emptiness.

As a man, the other Romans drew their blades. Rowanna exhaled, and then breathed in deeply.

"Hold," the Senator commanded. He strode toward them all, glowing with authority.

Rowanna turned to the Senator. His eyes had gone cold, but he said, “Gratias, Legatus, for removing that insolent man. No one will avenge him—he has paid the price for his insubordination. Now kill these creatures or it will matter not what we think of each other.”

Iullianus slid over to the young man. Rowanna followed him. “Listen,” he said, “there’s no fighting these things. It might be better to regroup, let them come to us. I could build walls, funnel them toward us.”

“You don’t understand,” Felix said. “This is what we’ve been waiting for. Instead of killing them in scattered bunches, we finally have them gathered together. It will make it so much easier for us.”  He looked at the ground wistfully. "If only it were dry," he said.

“How many have you fought, at one time?” Iullianus asked.

“Some. Two or three dozen, at least. Why?”

“There are thousands of them out there. Last time I saw this many, they destroyed my legion.”

“That legion didn’t know what we know. Besides, Senator Rufus is the commander. I only lead the war efforts."

“What wars have you fought in?”

The lad was silent for a few moments. “The Hippodrome is like a war—life and death are on the line.”

Rowanna resisted the urge to grab and shake the lad. Iullianus must have felt the same way, for he said, “So too are such things at risk in childbirth, but I wouldn’t want my mother leading an army.”

Helpless frustration warred with anger as the boy considered those words.
That look.
Rowanna felt an icy fist clench around her heart and her legs shook. Though he was too short and too dark of hair, the lad had for an instant worn one of Dapyx’s expressions.

Iullianus was addressing the soldiers. He sounded, she realized, exactly like a Roman general. Which was no surprise—that is what he was. It was strange though, to have the man she had traveled with and gotten to know so well show another side of himself, a side that she had forgotten existed.

“There is a canyon not far behind us,” he was saying. “Drive them back to there or we can hold them off in shifts." He stopped, and the cadence of his voice changed. "We must push them back, or else they will swallow us in a sea of menace."  He pulled the shovel from his back to go with the bloody blade in his hand. "Aim for their heads!" he cried. "
Malum delenda est
!"

Rowanna knew enough Latin to translate: "Evil must be destroyed."  She did not know if she was welcome, but she charged forward with the others, a dead man's blood still warm on the point of her spear.