The Forgotten Legion - Kane Ben (читать книги онлайн полностью без сокращений txt) 📗

'Have you just joined?'

'What's it to you?' Romulus did not yet feel safe.

The stranger unslung his axe and sat down with a sigh. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a large piece of dried pork and cut off a few slices with a sharp dagger. 'Care for some?'

The Gaul's eyes lit up. 'Thanks. Don't mind if I do. I'm Brennus and this is Romulus.'

'Tarquinius is my name.'

Romulus proffered a piece of cheese and the newcomer accepted it with a nod.

Brennus pointed at the iron blades of Tarquinius' axe. 'Mean looking weapon.'

'It has its uses,' he replied, rubbing his hand along the wooden shaft with a smile. 'And I'll wager you can handle yourself in a tight spot.'

'I can if I have to!' Brennus slapped the longsword he had taken from the ludus and all three laughed.

There was silence as they ate. The sun had set, leaving a thin red line along the horizon to mark its passage. Soon it would be completely dark and overhead the sky was filling with stars.

'There will be terrible storms on the voyage,' said Tarquinius suddenly. 'Twelve ships will be lost, but this one will be safe.'

They both stared at him with shock.

'How can you tell?' asked Romulus nervously.

'It is written in the stars.' His voice was deep and sonorous, almost musical.

He talks like Ultan, thought Brennus.

The breeze strengthened for a moment and Romulus shivered. 'You are a soothsayer?'

'Something like that.' He paused. 'But I can fight too.'

Romulus didn't doubt that. 'Where are you from?'

'Etruria.' There was a faraway look in Tarquinius' eyes. 'North of Rome.'

'A citizen?' Brennus said quickly. 'Why aren't you in a regular legion?'

Tarquinius gazed into his eyes and smiled. 'What are two runaway slaves doing in the army as mercenaries?'

'Keep your voice down!' hissed the big gladiator.

The Etruscan raised an eyebrow.

'We 're no slaves,' Brennus muttered.

'Then why has the young man got such a fresh wound on his upper arm?' Tarquinius responded. 'Just where a brand should be.'

Romulus guiltily pulled down his sleeve, but it was too late. Lying down had let the rough fabric of his jerkin ride up his arm, revealing the telltale stitching. 'We got waylaid on our journey,' he muttered. 'The roads are dangerous, especially at night.'

Fortunately no one else seemed to be paying attention. Other soldiers were busy settling down for the night.

Tarquinius raised an eyebrow. 'And I thought you were gladiators.'

Their shocked faces told him everything.

'I am . . . was . . . the best fighter in Rome! Bought our freedom with my winnings,' blustered Brennus.

'If you say so.' Tarquinius fingered the gold ring that hung from a chain round his neck. It was decorated with a scarab beetle. 'Nothing to do with the death of a noble, then?' Olenus has been avenged, he thought with satisfaction.

They both stiffened.

How can he know about that? thought Romulus with alarm. He wasn't there.

There was silence as the Gaul laid a hand on his sword. 'No,' he said stonily.

Tarquinius did not react to the obvious lie. 'I myself have no wish to be known as an Etruscan. I joined the cohort as a Greek.'

'What are you running from?'

'We all have something to hide.' He smiled. 'Let's say that, like you, I had to leave Italy in a hurry.'

They relaxed slightly.

'You speak Greek?' asked Romulus.

'And many other languages.'

'Why are you telling us all this?' Romulus self-consciously rubbed his wound, which would have to remain hidden until it had fully healed.

'Simple. You both look like fighters. More than I can say for those sorrylooking bastards.' Tarquinius jerked his head dismissively behind him. The Gauls were definitely farmers rather than warriors.

Brennus gave them an appraising glance. 'Bassius will knock them into shape. I've seen worse specimens turned into good soldiers.'

'Perhaps. You are the warrior.' Tarquinius reached into the satchel again and produced a small amphora. Pulling the cork with his teeth, he offered it to Brennus.

The Gaul did not accept.

'Don't trust me?' Tarquinius barked with amusement and took a deep swallow before offering it again. 'We have a long journey and many battles lie ahead. Why would I offer you poison?'

'I apologise. I've spent too many years in the ludus,' said Brennus, taking the wine. 'You have shared food and drink and I have only been rude in response.' He held out his right hand.

The Etruscan gripped it with a smile and the slight tension that had been present since he introduced himself disappeared.

'And you, Romulus?' The soothsayer's eyes danced. 'Would you be friends also?'

Romulus chose what he said with care. 'I will be your friend if you will be mine.'

'Wise words from one so young!' Tarquinius threw back his head and laughed again, drawing the attention of the nearest Gauls.

They clasped forearms.

For some time, the three sat enjoying Tarquinius' wine, talking about what they might find in Asia Minor. As the air cooled, the other recruits curled up and slept in wool blankets. To Romulus' delight, the Etruscan was full of knowledge about their destination.

'Very hot, I can tell you.'

'Worse than Rome in the summer?'

'Like a baker's oven during Saturnalia. And nothing but sand and rocks as far as you can see.'

'Still better than a crucifix on the Campus Martius,' interjected Brennus.

'True,' replied Tarquinius. 'But Mesopotamia will be like Hades itself.'

'I thought we were going to Jerusalem.'

Tarquinius lowered his voice. 'Not many know it yet, but our general is set on invading the Parthian empire.'

Romulus and Brennus looked at him blankly.

'The Parthians live in the Mesopotamian desert east of Judaea,' explained Tarquinius. 'Beyond the River Euphrates.' Quickly he outlined the geography of the region to them.

Intrigued, Romulus soaked up the information.

'Go on.' Brennus was also interested.

'Rome has been at peace with Parthia for some years, but Crassus intends to change that.'

'How can you know this?' asked the Gaul.

'Before enlisting, I sacrificed a lamb to Tinia. The Romans call him Jupiter,' replied the Etruscan. 'And the liver clearly showed a campaign into Parthia.'

Brennus became less scornful. Ultan had been able to read the future from animals' organs and had accurately predicted many things – including his own tribe 's annihilation. He shivered, remembering the druid's last words to him. 'Why, though?' he asked.

'Simple! Seleucia, the Parthian capital, is wealthy beyond compare.'

'But Crassus is already the richest man in Rome,' said Romulus. He had seen the evidence with his own eyes.

'Money is not the only thing driving Crassus. He's tired of Pompey and Caesar's successes. A successful military campaign is the only way to reclaim some glory.' The Etruscan chuckled in the darkness. 'Popularity with the people. Power over the Senate and equestrian class. That is all that matters in Rome.'

Up till then Romulus had been vaguely aware of the politics and intense rivalry between the members of the ruling classes, but as a slave it had affected him little. Life had been a constant battle for survival, affording him no time to ponder deeper meanings and who controlled what. But Tarquinius' words made perfect sense – the nobility were in control of the campaign, just like the gladiator contests they had left behind.

It did not feel right. He had thought they were free.

'So this is just another Roman invasion.' There was palpable anger in Brennus' voice. 'Will they never be satisfied?'

'Only when they have conquered the world,' Tarquinius replied.

The big man stared up at the stars, brooding.

'Nearly four centuries have passed since my people were vanquished. Yet I still grieve,' Tarquinius whispered. 'Just as you must about the passing of your tribe.'