Sword of the Brotherhood by Tony Roberts

Author:Tony Roberts [Roberts, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-05-12T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Casca was also patient. He had learned the hard way that often it was the only thing he could fall back on. Being confined in a Persian cell and left to rot would have sent many men crazy. But Casca knew in time somebody would happen along. The guards in recent days had left and only the jailer had remained. Any attempt at starting a conversation had been a waste of time and it only elicited abuse and spittle.

Even the jailer vanished one morning. It was eerie, the whole place silent and dark – nobody had bothered to relight the torches. Even the other prisoners were quiet. Casca wondered if they had all died or been taken away. It had been so long and he had slept much of the time that it was possible such things had happened.

The sound of the door to the surface being opened came to him and he tensed. It must have been days since anyone had come that way. Or was it only hours? The total darkness had disorientated him and he was sure he had been hallucinating for he had a memory of having a conversation with Glam just a few moments ago.

Voices came to him. They were speaking Greek! He stood up, a little shaky, and grabbed the bars on the door and tried to peer out. Torchlight flickered down the passageway towards the way out and he heard distinctly a Greek talk. “Better check to see if any poor souls are down here, I suppose. The place stinks!”

“Hey!” Casca tried to shout. It came out as a faint croak. He’d not used his voice for a while properly, save in the one-sided conversations he’d had with himself, and the lack of a drink over the past few days had left him with a husk of a tongue. Cursing he picked up his overflowing piss bucket and threw it against the door, sending his urine all over the door and even through the bars onto the passage outside.

“Good heaven above!” came the voice outside. “Alright, alright! Hold on!”

There appeared two men, wrinkling their noses. “Ugh! Do you happen to know where the keys are?”

Casca shook his head. “Jailer,” he croaked.

“Oh, that’s not good,” the nearest man replied. “Everyone’s fled. Everyone in the Persian garrison, that is. Alright, we’ll get this door broken down. Wait there.”

Casca began chuckling. “Alright, I’ll not sneak out.”

He thought he heard one of them say ‘smart ass’ and the two went back up the stairs. Soon afterwards more men came down and there was an almighty commotion on the other side of the door. Then someone shouted out to Casca to stand back from the door. He did, and the door shook to a heavy blow, then another and another. Finally after a minute or two, the lock broke and the door swung open. Casca stood there blinking in the light and could only see silhouettes by the doorway.

“Steady,” someone said calmly, “the Persians have gone. We’re back in charge now.

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