Vulcan's Fury: The Dark Lands (34 page)

“Sir, look.” His senior tribune was pointing to the top of The Wall. There, a group of figures had emerged from the bowels of the stone fortification onto the parapet to join Valeria, who stood beside her pet hexatiger. A flood of white hot anger surged through him. Sergius cupped his hands to his mouth to be heard over the final round of screams as his men finished their slaughter of
Legio Hercules
. “Pelonius! If you surrender yourselves now, I promise you and the other men a quick, merciful death, and no harm shall come to Valeria.”
 

Even as he spoke, and before Pelonius could answer, the largest of the figures, Haakon the Barbarian, put one foot atop the parapet wall, drew his manhood from beneath his tunic, and let fly an impressive stream of piss, a shower of golden droplets that rained down on the dismayed soldiers below.
 

“Marcus Sergius,” Pelonius answered, “you —”

He broke off as Valeria touched his arm and spoke to him, too quiet to be heard by those below. After a moment, Pelonius nodded, and together with the other men, save Karan, who kept watch over the princess, his bow in hand with a nocked arrow, Pelonius moved back from the parapet wall and was lost from view. Hercules remained beside Valeria, his glowing eyes never leaving Sergius.

The princess looked down upon him. “General Flavius Sergius.” The soldiers fell silent at the sound of her voice, the night punctuated only by the moans of their wounded and the crackling of the fire-swept castrum. “You, among all men of the Empire, of all the known world, stand cursed before all the gods.”

That drew a round of snickers and a few catcalls from the soldiers, but their levity died as she continued to speak.

“Laugh now, traitors and murderers, vermin of the Empire,” she told them. “You have taken the field of battle this night, anointing yourselves with the blood of your betters. Scoff at me as you will. But mark my words: the day shall come when I will repay you a thousandfold. The day shall come when you live in terror of the day I find you, for I
will
find you. From the lowest among you to the highest in the Senate who betrayed my father, know that you died this day, though you still walk. When your time of justice arrives, you will join your brothers in agony, crucified along the road from the steps of the Senate in Rome to this very place. And the last to die,” she leaned forward, her voice rising as she pointed an accusing finger, “will be you, Sergius. I could have Karan shoot an arrow through your heart right now, but that would be a kindness that I am not prepared to offer. Instead, I will march you, naked and dishonored, from the center of Rome to where you stand now upon the spilled blood of my father and mother. I will take up the hammer and nail your body to the cross with my own hands and watch every moment as you writhe in the agony of crucifixion.” Lowering her arm, she went on, softer now, her voice cold as the deep winter snows, addressing the other men below. “Not one among you will find mercy or forgiveness at the end of this life. When you die, you will never know the pleasures of the Elysian Fields, but will suffer in torment at the hands of the Furies in Tartarus until the stars fall from the sky.” She held up a dagger. “I, Princess Valeria, daughter of the rightful Caesar and Empress Octavia, murdered by your hands, swear this to you before Jupiter and all the gods.” After drawing the blade across one palm, she flicked her hand over the soldiers below, who recoiled as if her blood was liquid death. No longer were they laughing or joking at her expense. They were terrified, just as she had said they would be.

In that moment Sergius truly saw both her inner strength and outer beauty, which made even more fierce his need to possess her.

“Valeria,” he called, “come down to me. You have my solemn word that not only will you not be harmed, but I will provide for you. I will give you everything you could ever want, more than any other man could ever give you. Valeria…”

His plea went unanswered, for she had disappeared into the darkness beyond the parapet wall.
 

“What are your orders, sir?” asked the centurion.

“Scale the wall,” Sergius said through clenched teeth. “Kill the men with her, kill the beast, but any man who so much as touches a hair on the princess’s head will die on the cross.”

“Yes, sir. I will make sure they understand and obey.”

Ignoring him and the shouted orders that prompted soldiers with grappling hooks and ladders to move forward into position, Sergius stared up at where Valeria had stood, seeing her image as if it had been burned into his eyes by the sun.

***

As Valeria was holding Sergius’s attention, her companions were hard at work devising a means of escape.
 

“Are you sure this will work?” Septimus asked in a voice that was more than a little skeptical.

“There is no reason it shouldn’t,” Pelonius told him. He had led the other men, except for Karan, to one of the lifts he had built along the top of The Wall to bring up stones used in the construction of the upper levels, along with supplies, weapons, and oil. The lift comprised a mast with a yard arm that could swing out over either side of the wall, and a set of ropes fed through pulleys that led to a capstan. At the end of the ropes was a sturdy net that could easily hold the weight of a dozen men.
 

Haakon shrugged. “Just toss the rope over the seaward side and slide down. Simple.”

Septimus glared at him. “Thickheaded barbarian. Think of Valeria, would you?”

“I was actually thinking more of Hercules,” Pelonius said as he directed them to spread out the net. “I suspect the princess could make it down the rope, but Hercules can’t, and she would rather die than leave him behind.”

“She’s not the only one,” Paulus agreed, and the other men nodded, their bodies visible only as moon- and starlit shadows.

“Get that rope, Paulus.” Pelonius pointed to a long coil of rope near one of the boxes along the parapet wall that contained bolts for the scorpions.
 

Paulus quickly retrieved it and handed it to Pelonius. The older man secured it around the base of the lift in a few economical movements of his hands while Marcus tossed it over the seaward side of The Wall. “Marcus,” Pelonius said, “take Paulus and Septimus down to the pier and make sure it’s secure. The rest of us will winch Hercules down to you, then use the rope ourselves.”

“He’s not going to like being wrapped up in that net,” Marcus warned.
 

Pelonius scowled. “We don’t have a choice. This is the only way to get him off The Wall. Get going. Sergius isn’t going to waste any time before he attacks.”

“Yes, sir.” Rubbing his hands rapidly together for a moment, Marcus mounted the parapet wall, took the rope in hand, and descended into the darkness. Septimus went right behind him. With one last, long look at Valeria, who was still speaking, Paulus followed.

When the princess finished her oratory, she joined them. “What’s the plan?”
 

“You need to convince Hercules to let us wrap him up in a net,” Pelonius told her, pointing to the net that was spread out beneath the lift’s yardarm.

“Are you insane?” she blurted, then put her hand to her mouth, as if to stop the words from tumbling out. Too late.

“It’s the only way to get him down,” Pelonius said. “And we don’t have time to waste.”

“Oh, gods,” she whispered. Turning to the beast who stood beside her, she said, “Hercules, come.” She stepped forward, walking across the net, the huge animal following obediently behind her. His head dipped toward the ground, his nose drawn to the scent of the net, which had been used to lift everything from carefully carved blocks of stone to sacks of dried fish.

Beckoning Haakon and Karan to the capstan, Pelonius took one of the spokes and began to push, raising the thick rope that was attached to smaller ropes that, in turn, connected to the six corners of the hexagon-shaped net.

As soon as the net’s edges began to rise from the floor, Hercules crouched and began to growl.
 

“Wait!” Valeria called. “This isn’t going to work. Not like this.” To Hercules, she said, “Lie down.” The beast gave her a petulant look before grudgingly obeying her command. She went around him, bunching the net up against him. “Look, silly thing, it won’t hurt you,” she soothed. Once she had finished going all the way around him, she nodded to Pelonius to continue.
 

Then, as the three men began again to turn the capstan to raise the net, she clambered atop the hexatiger, taking firm hold of the deep, thick fur between his shoulders.
 

“Valeria,” Pelonius cried, “you can’t ride down with him! It’s too dangerous!”

“It’s the only way he’ll go,” she insisted. “He’s not some dim-witted cow!”

With a look of helpless frustration, Pelonius shook his head. To the other men he ordered, “Push!”
 

The net slowly enveloped Hercules and Valeria. The hexatiger, curled into a huge ball, snarled as he was lifted from the floor. His tail, curled back over his body, whipped back and forth like a thing alive, and his fangs glistened in the darkness as he snapped at the ropes.

Once the bottom of the net was high enough to clear the parapet wall, Pelonius directed the others in carefully turning the yardarm over the seaward side. Hercules mewled in fright, but held still under the power of Valeria’s soothing voice.
 

“She sings to him,” Karan said, finally realizing that she was no longer simply speaking to the beast.

“She always has,” Pelonius said after satisfying himself that the net would land on the narrow pier that floated along the base of The Wall. Rejoining the others on the capstan, he grunted as they began to lower the huge animal and his precious rider down toward the narrow dock below. “She’s always sung to him, since she was a little girl.”

“Such power must she have,” Karan whispered in wonder as he pushed, “to tame the greatest of gods.”

“That may be,” Pelonius told him, “but she’s just as human as we are, and she is in grave peril.”

***

Valeria quietly sang what she knew was Hercules’s favorite song, the one that never failed to calm him, regardless of his mood. She ran her hands across his flanks in gentle circles, feeling how the muscles beneath the skin were taut as the wood of Karan’s drawn bow. The thought made her look up, hoping to see the young warrior, but all she saw was the dark, angular shape of the top of The Wall framed against the night sky. Turning to look down, she could see the silver foam of the waves of the Haunted Sea and the dark, impossibly narrow strip of the dock against the lighter gray of The Wall, which in daytime was a blinding white.
 

Shouts off to one side, toward the main pier, drew her attention. She saw a parade of lights, torches held by approaching soldiers. Standing before them were three silhouettes: Marcus, Septimus, and Paulus.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. Turning back to the men above her, she shouted, “Faster, Pelonius! Marcus and the others are in trouble!”

***

“…Marcus and the others are in trouble!”

“I will help!” Haakon said, stepping away from the capstan.

“
No!
” Pelonius cried, but it was too late. By themselves, Pelonius and Karan didn’t have the strength to control the descent of the net and its heavy cargo. Their feet slid on the stone as the capstan began to spin the wrong way as gravity took control. First Pelonius lost his footing, followed instantly by Karan.

The capstan began to whirl around and round in a blur as the net and its passengers began to fall. Somewhere in the darkness behind the parapet wall, Valeria screamed and Hercules roared in fright.

Haakon saw his mistake and leaped forward, trying to grab one of the capstan’s bars and regain control, but was swatted backward to land hard on the unyielding stone, where he lay dazed.

Karan darted to the wall and looked over just in time to see Hercules, Valeria still clinging to his back, both of them enveloped in the net, crash right through the wood of the dock and splash into the sea.

Tossing his sword, bow, and quiver to Haakon, who was struggling to get to his feet, Karan backed a few paces away from the wall. Then he sprinted forward.

“Karan, no!” Pelonius cried. “The water is too shallow!”

But Karan had already flung himself outward from the wall. In a graceful arc, he sailed like an arrow through the darkness toward the water far below.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The net suddenly dropped, jerked for just a second, and then began to fall, faster and faster. Unable to help herself, Valeria screamed. Beneath her, Hercules let out a cry of his own that echoed off the wall as the two of them plummeted toward the dock.
 

Just before they hit, Valeria closed her eyes and prayed for a swift death, welcoming the thought of seeing her parents in the afterlife and hoping that Hercules would not have to suffer.

But Death stayed its hand. The huge hexatiger’s weight carried them right through the relatively flimsy dock, which was only a temporary service structure while The Wall was being built, to crash into the warm waters of the Haunted Sea below.

For a moment, she was overcome with relief. Then she was filled with terror, because both she and Hercules were trapped in the net, underwater. The big cat struggled, whipsawing his body back and forth as he bit and clawed at the web of rope. She screamed as her right leg was pinned between the net and the cat’s body with such force that she thought her thigh bone must certainly break, then the pressure was gone as Hercules whipped back in the opposite direction. She, too, tried her best to escape the net’s clinging embrace and reach the surface, but in the dark, swirling water she wasn’t sure in which direction lay the surface, and the net seemed to have a lethal will of its own. She drew her dagger and began to saw at the thick rope, but she knew right away that the small blade would never cut through it before she drowned.
 

Just as the cold grip of panic began to close around her heart, she felt more than saw something splash into the water nearby. A dark form dove past her, then instantly looped upward to avoid slamming into the shallow bottom. The specter swam closer, and her heart skipped a beat with joy as she realized it was Karan.