Vespasian: Tribune of Rome by Robert Fabbri

Author:Robert Fabbri
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781848879119
Publisher: Corvus
Published: 2011-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

Keeping the Via Aurelia a mile or so to their left they picked their way across country. The undulating landscape was mainly farmland criss-crossed by small tracks and dotted with woods and olive groves. Here and there they saw a farmhouse or a country villa and skirted around it, keeping as far away from prying eyes as possible, but always maintaining a north-westerly direction. The occasional glimpses they had of the sea, a few miles to their left, helped them to keep on course, the sun now being visible only intermittently through the steadily thickening clouds. After a couple of hours, during which they’d covered over ten miles, Magnus stopped and turned to his companions.

‘By my reckoning we should be nearly level with the roadblock so watch out for their patrols. From now on we’ll try to keep as much as possible to the woods, olive groves and river beds.’ He looked at Vespasian, who seemed to be very pale. ‘Sextus, get something to eat for the young gentleman.’

A quick rummage through his pack produced some more salted pork that he gave to Vespasian, who ate it thankfully as they pressed on with caution.

By midmorning it had completely clouded over and a light drizzle of rain was falling. They were threading their way through an alder wood when a series of shouts stopped them dead.

‘What was that?’ Vespasian whispered, coming out of the reverie that he had fallen into and now suddenly alert.

‘Fuck knows,’ Magnus replied, looking around. ‘But whatever it was, it was close.’

Another shout, which seemed to come from up ahead of them to the right, echoed around the wood. Suddenly, about fifty paces away to their front, three horsemen dressed in dull travel clothes crashed through the wood from right to left pursued by half a dozen red-cloaked, spear-toting Praetorian troopers.

Vespasian and his escort stayed motionless, hearts pounding, as the Praetorians raced through the wood in pursuit of their quarry. So concentrated were the troopers on navigating their way through the trees and dead undergrowth that they could neither look right nor left. They drove their horses furiously as they sped out of sight, enveloped by the wood.

‘The bastards must think that was us,’ Magnus said as the last red cloak disappeared.

‘Then they’re not very good at counting, are they?’ Sextus pointed out.

Magnus looked at him with raised eyebrows. ‘That’s rich, coming from you. Anyway, who cares? The main thing is that they’re occupied so let’s take advantage of it.’ He moved off quickly; the others followed. As they crossed the line of the chase more shouting came from their left, then a scream.

‘It sounds like they’ve got us,’ Marius said, smiling grimly.

‘Poor buggers; still, they must have been up to no good if they ran when challenged,’ Vespasian observed, feeling much revived by his racing heart.

‘Even if I was as innocent as a Vestal Virgin I think I’d run from a Praetorian patrol that wanted to ask me a few questions; they’re not known for their politeness, you know,’ Magnus said, quickening his pace as the wood thinned out.

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