The remnants of Pacorus’ horsemen arrived back that evening, bloody and battered. They had been attacked by a far greater force of Indian cavalry, suffering heavy losses. And they reported that the army that followed in their wake was as large as Tarquinius had predicted. Or larger. It would arrive the next day.
A deep despondency fell on the legionaries. The haruspex had been proved correct yet again. Every single man in the Forgotten Legion but one wished the opposite.
Romulus knew now that he could not escape his fate. He felt it rushing in as if borne on the wings of doom itself. Thoughts of returning to Rome seemed utterly futile, a waste of valuable energy. Better to save it for the fight the next day, when death would find them all on this green plain, by the River Hydaspes. Seventeen seemed too young to die, he thought sadly.
A strange sense of complacency filled Brennus. Word had spread that they were not far from where Alexander’s incredible advance had been halted. ‘This is the end of the world,’ muttered many men as they sat around their fires that night. ‘Even if they could, who would want to travel any further?’
Their unknowing words reverberated deep in the core of the Gaul’s being.
A journey beyond where any Allobroge has gone. Or will ever go.
After nine long years, the gods were finally beginning to reveal their purpose to him.
Chapter XVI: The Road to Gaul
Northern Italy, winter 53/52 BC
Seeing her fear, Secundus moved closer. ‘Tell me.’
‘It’s the fugitivarii,’ Fabiola whispered. ‘I know it.’
‘This would be their style,’ he said with a scowl. ‘And they’d be wary of my men. So they creep in like thieves and kill them unawares.’
‘To even the numbers.’
‘Exactly.’ Secundus scanned the nearby trees and bushes. ‘The bastards will have been tracking us since we left.’
‘Should we go back?’
He barked a short, angry laugh. ‘Whoever it was murdered these lads will find it easier to recruit more men there than if we keep moving. Besides, the rioting has spread. Rome is no place for any of us right now.’
‘And it’ll take weeks for Pompey’s legions to arrive,’ said Fabiola. If the rumours sweeping the city as they left were correct, the sole consul would by now be dictator for the year. Nervous of the situation, the Senate had finally acted. But Pompey’s armies were scattered throughout the Republic; most were in Hispania and Greece, while others were dispersed across Italy.
‘Time we don’t have,’ Secundus declared. ‘Best move on.’
‘Fast,’ added one of the others.
Sextus bared his teeth in agreement.
Fabiola did not argue. The graphic evidence of what might happen if they did nothing was still lying before her.
Despite the frozen soil, it did not take the veterans long to bury their comrades. Fabiola was struck by their efficiency as she watched them swiftly shovel out a pair of deep holes, inter the blood-soaked bodies and cover them with earth. Their weapons were also buried. Everyone stood around while Secundus said a few words. But there was no time to carve a wooden grave marker. Servius and Antoninus had disappeared as if they had never existed.
Yet the plain graves were still more than most slaves got, Fabiola thought sadly. Like the excess city waste and the bodies of executed criminals, they were simply discarded in stinking, open pits. After a battle, a similar fate awaited the dead soldiers of the losing side. Like Romulus, at Carrhae. Or wherever the battle she had seen in her vision would take place.
She climbed miserably into the litter, followed by a stone-faced Docilosa. Secundus barked an order to move out.
Nothing further happened that day and Secundus made sure that the party reached a town by nightfall. Not wanting others to know their intended route to Gaul, it had been his aim to avoid human contact where possible. The night attack had changed things; safety now lay in numbers. Secundus hurried them to the best inn to be found, a low-roofed timber affair with a bar room full of unsavoury types and a muddy yard enclosed by stables. Curious glances followed the two women as they quickly descended from the litter, raising the hoods on the dark-coloured military lacernae which Secundus had provided. They had been reduced to skulking like thieves.
Once a simple meal had been provided for Fabiola and Docilosa in their room, Secundus left two men outside their door with Sextus. He and the others shared the neighbouring chamber, but regularly came to check on