Vulcan's Fury: The Dark Lands (27 page)

“I have received reports,” added Pelonius, “that
Invictus
is encamped near Metapontum and has been recruiting to refill its ranks, but none of the messengers we have sent have returned.”

“Nor have our scouts,” Paulus said bleakly. Unlike Valeria, he had been privy to all the goings-on of the last few weeks. From the look in her eyes, he knew she was going to pump him for every bit of information she could get later on as she fought to catch up on current events.

“As for the Dark Wolves,” Pelonius said, “we have received reports of small-scale attacks among villages to the southwest, but the last attack was over a week ago. Rest assured, orders have been given to both
Hercules
and
Victrix
to be vigilant, especially at night. Moats have also been dug around the walls and filled with oil that should give the beasts a fiery welcome should they decide to attack.”

“There’s worse,” Tiberius added. “Only two of the reserve legions I called to service are on their way to us. The rest, according to what Pleminius has been able to discover in Rome, have mobilized and now occupy positions astride the most strategic roads and vital ports leading to the south, effectively isolating the northern provinces. And us.”

“Their commanders are puppets of Senator Livius,” Pelonius added in a disgusted voice.
 

Valeria was aghast. “All of them?”

“Those who were thought to be loyal have had a change of heart,” Tiberius said in a wry voice. “Gold has a tendency to do that.”

“But you’re
Caesar!
” Valeria cried. “They have to obey your commands!”

Favoring her with a piercing gaze, Pelonius asked, “Who controls the coin for the soldiers?”

“The Senate, of course, but…”

“And to what,” Pelonius went on, “do most men owe greater allegiance? The word of Caesar or gold?”
 

“Gold,” Valeria said unhappily.

“Good,” the old scribe grumbled. “I was about to think that all my efforts at teaching you the ways of Rome had been in vain.”

Turning to her father, Valeria asked, “What will you do?”

“As long as the standing legions and those of the reserve remain in the south, I’m content to let them be for now. In a way, that might actually be to our advantage in a confrontation with the Masters across the sea: if we staged too much of our strength here and the enemy was able to break through, they could rampage across the Empire like Hannibal and his elephants did in ancient times. But with the legions deployed as they are in the south, that gives us some strategic depth and room to maneuver, assuming they decide to answer our call when it comes.
Legio Hercules
,
Victrix
, and the two other legions joining us should be enough to form a solid shield behind The Wall while the larger political battle plays out. So, in a way, perhaps Livius accidentally has done the Empire a favor.” He leaned over the map, pointing at where the underwater bridge had been drawn in. “In the meantime, I want to learn as much as we can of our enemy.” Looking up at Karan, he added, “And for that, we need your help.”

With a look at Valeria, Karan bowed. “I am your servant, Ma—”

“I’m not your master, Karan,” Tiberius interrupted softly, “and you are not a slave. Not here.”

Karan nodded. “I will do all I can.”

“Good,” Tiberius said. “Pelonius?”

“Before we can defeat such an enemy, it is only prudent to know as much as we can about him,” Pelonius said. “You have told us much, Karan, but we need to know more, much more, before we face the Masters in open battle, should it ever even come to that.”

“It will,” Karan told him. “Never doubt it. Even as you are planning here, they are doing the same across the sea.”

“Then let us set our plans into motion first,” Pelonius said. “I propose that we send a small scouting party across to gather information, and to make sure an idea I have to effect a crossing is…survivable.”

“A small group might be able to cross the bridge during a storm,” Karan said, “such as I did. But it would be difficult, and if the storm did not last long enough for them to reach the far shore…” He shrugged, a fatalistic gesture.

Pelonius shook his head. “I propose the scouts go by boat.”

“They’d all die!” Valeria blurted, shocked that Pelonius would propose such a futile plan.

“Not just any boat,” Pelonius explained, giving Valeria a pained look. “According to my experiments, a boat that is fully enclosed should allow the crew to reach the far side unscathed.”

Karan cocked his head. “But the water is deadly.”

“No, it is not the water,” Pelonius said. “It is ill spirits in the air that bring death to those who venture too far out from shore, and these evil spirits are much more prevalent, I believe, in those regions where bubbles from the deep break the surface. But a boat that is sealed like a wineskin could hold in good air from the shore and keep out whatever is in the air at sea that kills us.”

“That might work for a time,” Valeria said. “But if I remember from your teachings, death also claims us if we are kept too long in an enclosed space. You said that many died that way in the mines after a cave in; their bodies were found unharmed by the fall of rock, yet they were dead.”

“Exactly right,” Pelonius replied, clearly pleased at her memory. “The scouting party, which would also be the crew of this special boat, would only have so much time to reach the far shore.” He frowned. “Just how much, unfortunately, I’m not sure.”

“So when do you plan to build this boat?” Valeria asked.

“It’s already done,” Pelonius replied with a hint of pride in his voice. “Some of the seams have yet to fully cure, but it is nearly ready for testing.”

Karan looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Valeria thought she saw a hint of fear in his eyes.
 

“How do you propose to test this craft?” She asked.

“Seven men,” Pelonius said, “the minimum needed to crew it, will take it into deep water, then return.”

Valeria frowned. “And which men have you chosen for this venture?”

“None have been selected, as of yet,” Tiberius said, eager to avoid what he suspected would be an inevitable argument with his daughter that the others here need not witness. Turning to Karan, he went on, “But if the test succeeds, we will then select a crew whose orders will be to reach the far shore, gather as much information on the enemy as they can, and then return before the coming lunar eclipse. That will give them nearly a month. You will obviously be among the scouts, Karan. I know it is a great deal to ask, and none of us — least of all myself — would think ill of you if you refused. But the chances of success are far greater with you in their company.”

“I have dreams, nightmares, each night,” Karan said slowly, “of returning to the land of my birth. I do not wish to go, but at least you have given me a choice. That is something the Masters never gave me.” With a small bow of his head, he said, “I will go.”

While the men around the table breathed a sigh of relief, Valeria felt a sudden chill run down her spine.

***

“It took you long enough.” Sergius glared at the man who entered the tent of his temporary praetorium. Beyond the flap of canvas lay the dark of night, save for cooking fires.
Legio Invictus
,
restored to its full fighting strength, had been on the march the last four days, and its destination now lay tantalizingly close.
 

Legatus Flavius Canuleius, commander of
Legio Victrix
, which was encamped beside
Hercules
, gave Sergius a sour look. “My apologies, Sergius,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all, “but it isn’t easy for me to get away unseen under the eyes of our blessed Caesar and that bastard Pelonius.” He glanced at the two other men in the room as he took his seat. “Gentlemen.”

Placus Gratidius Rufus and Decius Canutius Gorgonius, the commanders of
Legio VI Ferrata
and
Legio X Equestris
, the two legions that had been moving north to “join” Caesar, nodded their greetings. Decius handed Flavius a cup of wine.
 

“What news, then?” Sergius asked, dispensing with any unnecessary pleasantries.
 

“Things couldn’t be better, really,” Flavius said. “Caesar trusts me, and fully believes that you two,” he gestured toward Decius and Placus, “are in his camp, as it were. He also thinks
Invictus
is still at Metapontum, so your appearance when the time comes should be a complete surprise as long as his patrols don’t find you.”

“You’re supposed to take care of that,” Sergius snapped.

Flavius waved away his concern. “Pelonius insisted that he run his own patrols, even after I volunteered to take care of that, allowing him to focus on building that ridiculous wall of his.” He smiled. “Or, should I say that wall of
yours
, Sergius, as you’re supposed to be paying for it.” His two companions laughed, although Sergius was clearly not amused. “But fear not: I have men watching all the approaches, and more shadowing the patrols Pelonius sends out. More often than not, they wind up being joint patrols. When the time comes, my men will make quick work of things.”

That mollified Sergius. Slightly. “What else should we know?”

“Two things, really. The first is that Pelonius has dug a moat around his castrum and filled it with oil. It’s far enough away from the walls so as not to set fire to the wood when it’s lit, but it will obviously make things difficult for us if we aren’t able to get our men inside first.” He took a sip of wine. “The second thing is the reason for the moat: the Dark Wolves are reportedly lurking about. And Caesar is very annoyed with you for not having put all their hairy heads on spikes.”

All of them, even Sergius, managed a laugh at that. “You can hunt them down later,” Sergius told the others, and the laughter quickly faded. Looking at each of his conspirators, he said, “You understand what must be done?”

Placus nodded, his face creased with an expression of annoyance. “Of course, Sergius. None of us were born yesterday.”

Sergius bit his tongue. Placus was older than the others, far wealthier, and had acquitted himself well in half a dozen major campaigns. If Sergius had reservations about any of the three men with whom he was about to overthrow the Empire, it was him. The other two were merely tools of the Senate, bought and sold like so many others. But Placus had been a longtime friend of Tiberius Caesar, and swaying his loyalty had taken more than merely gold, or so Senator Livius had told Sergius in his last message. From his gaze and his tone, Placus had little patience for Sergius and even less respect.
That will soon change
, Sergius vowed.
 

“Very well,” Sergius said, forcing his voice to be calm. “I want Caesar’s head, and I ask that you nail Pelonius to a cross if you can take him alive. Otherwise, give me his head, as well. And make sure your men understand that Valeria is to be taken alive,
unharmed
, and brought to me.” He would not have minded having Octavia, too, but he doubted the barbarian-descended whore would let herself be taken alive. The men of the legions could have her. “The rest you may do with as you please.” He cocked his head, then his lips split in a cruel smile. “And one last command: bring me the hexatiger’s hide. I’ll give it to Valeria as a wedding present.”

***

Feral eyes watched from the safety of the trees just over a spear’s throw from the edge of the human encampment, where hundreds of tents filled with soldiers were arrayed in neat rows in the forest. The new alpha who led the Dark Wolves was not as large or powerful as his predecessor, but he was cunning and quick. His pack was growing hungry, ravenous, and he had been forced to fight several males in the last few days for dominance. In normal times such battles were not to the death, but these times were not normal, not in the alpha’s reckoning. The corpses of his rivals he had left bleeding on the ground, sustenance for the rest of the pack.
 

The pack’s scouts had found the scent trail of the prey, and the alpha had led the rest of the pack here, where they had found this enormous group of humans. They were prey, too, but the alpha decided to wait. They must not disturb the hunting ground, lest the one they pursued should again escape. That could not be allowed a second time.
 

With a final sniff of the air, the alpha gave a low growl and retreated deeper into the trees where the rest of the pack impatiently waited.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Karan had stood quietly beside Paulus as Caesar welcomed the new arrivals, Placus Gratidius Rufus and Decius Canutius Gorgonius, the commanders of the legions that Caesar had so eagerly awaited. The two men had given Karan appraising looks when Caesar introduced him, and Karan had bowed his head in respectful greeting.

Watching as Caesar spoke to his gathered generals of the coming war, which Caesar now looked upon as being inevitable, Karan’s eyes were drawn to the new generals, along with Flavius Canuleius, who commanded
Victrix
. Tuning out the words that were exchanged, just as he ignored the grunts and roars that his opponents sometimes used as a form of intimidation, he focused on the language spoken by their bodies. It was a skill necessary to a Sword who wished to survive the arena, for sometimes the Masters fought their human puppets in teams, and often put one or more Swords on a team whose purpose was to kill one of their own team mates. Understanding their nonverbal cues and masking his own had saved Karan’s life more than once.
 

Outwardly, the newly arrived generals appeared relaxed in Caesar’s company, their faces alternating between smiles and serious contemplation with furrowed brows as they spoke with one another, with Caesar, and with Pelonius. But the newcomers and Flavius shared something in common with one another that was not shared with Caesar or Pelonius. More than once the three exchanged brief glances, and when they did look at Caesar or Pelonius, it was only briefly. This was particularly the case for Placus, which Karan thought strange for someone whom Caesar had welcomed as an “old friend.” While the three smiled and laughed on occasion from something Caesar said, their bodies remained tense, even after having drunk wine. He saw no sign that they intended Caesar harm, which would have been foolish with himself and Septimus present, not to mention the Praetorians, but something was amiss. Without conscious thought, his hand moved to the handle of his sword.