Invader: Sacrifice by Simon Scarrow & T.J. Andrews

Author:Simon Scarrow & T.J. Andrews [Simon Scarrow and T.J. Andrews]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HeadlinePublisher
Published: 2015-02-15T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Figulus lay low inside the animal pen, shivering under the wan glow of the moon and feeling more wretched than he’d ever done in his life. Beside him Vatia lay perfectly still. The two Romans had been stuck in the pen throughout the night, their damp tunics clinging to their frozen limbs. A black despair seized hold of Figulus and the Gaul cursed himself for volunteering for this fool’s errand. Not only were his comrades going to die, but now he was trapped in a stinking pen with Vatia, surrounded by hundreds of Rome’s fiercest enemies. He consoled himself with the thought that at least he had managed to send word back to Vitellius of the rebels’ camp. He had not failed in his mission, then. His death would not be in vain.

Neither of the soldiers dared to utter more than a few whispers, for fear of alerting a nearby guard and being cut down on the spot. So they had passed the night largely in silence, giving Figulus plenty of time to appraise their grim situation. As long as they remained in their hide-out they were reasonably safe, he decided. The wicker wall meant that they were well concealed from view and they were sufficiently far from the bustling activity around the rest of the camp. There was always a chance that one of the peasants might wander over and take a closer look at the pen, but the surrounding enclosures were devoid of life and there was no reason for anyone to approach. The greater risk lay in trying to leave the pen. Shortly after Figulus and Vatia had ducked into the pen a group of carousers had settled close by, and their drunken singing and drinking continued well into the night and still showed no signs of abating. Any attempt to escape the pen was doomed to end in failure, Figulus realised. They would be spotted by the carousers the moment they left the pen, cut down by the enemy before they could make it to the water’s edge.

But sooner or later one of the natives would eventually stumble upon their hiding place, he knew. Their only hope, he decided, was to remain inside the pen and pray that the cohorts arrived in time to defeat the enemy. But there was little prospect of a swift victory over the rebels, Figulus acknowledged bitterly as he recalled the formidable defences awaiting the men of the Eighth and Ninth cohorts. It would be a prolonged struggle to seize the rebels’ island camp. An overwhelming weariness suddenly weighed down on the optio. There was nothing they could do now. Nothing at all.

‘If only they’d stop singing and go to sleep, sir,’ Vatia barely whispered, nodding in the direction of the carousers’ voices. ‘Then we might have a chance of escaping this bloody pit.’

Figulus shook his head wearily. ‘We’d still have to get past the sentries. One of ’em would raise the alarm before we could cut them down. We’d be killed before we could reach the far side of the lake.

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