Soldier of Rome: Heir to Rebellion (The Artorian Chronicles) (29 page)

“Second Century on me!”
the Centurion shouted, taking off at a dead run towards the gate. As he rushed inside, he saw Decimus standing there with the torch. With him were Gavius and Carbo.

“Century on line!”
Macro ordered. “Where is Sergeant Artorius?”

“He is around here somewhere, Sir,” Decimus answered. “We were going to go find him now.”

“Alright, go,” Macro answered. “Optio Flaccus, I’ll keep the blocking force here. You take the rest and root those bastards out. Drive them into us.”

“You got it,” Flaccus answered. He then drew his gladius. “Come on!” he shouted as thirty-four men followed him towards the main house.

Heracles had
been unable to sleep that night. His plan for destroying the Roman garrison at Lugdunum had come unraveled, and yet he could not help but feel pleased with himself for what he had accomplished. Many of the traitors had been purged and he laughed at the thought of Roman soldiers trying to track down him and his men. They came close once, but thankfully Heracles had never been one to allow expendable slaves into his darkest thoughts.

What he cursed himself for was his impatience; he had failed to uphold the one virtue that had gotten him this far. He thought that after his killing spree perhaps he could rally the citizens of Lugdunum to his cause. Such a foolish notion! These Gauls were but sheep; sheep
that had been frightened into obedient submission once more following Sacrovir’s failed rebellion.

Ah, but what a prize he now possessed! To have captured the estate belonging to the local legionary commander was better than he could have hoped. To think that only recently he had killed the previous owner for failing to take up arms against Rome once more! The Lady Diana was a trophy in her own right, certainly. Heracles had not felt a woman’s touch in many years; not since his wife had been taken from him. Would he be able to perform with Diana, should the opportunity arise? Many of his men had been eyeing the girl Kiana as well. She had pretty much outlived her usefulness to him, so perhaps it was time to give his men some well-deserved sport.

A loud commotion and the sound of many running feet interrupted his thoughts. He ran to a balcony and caught sight of numerous Roman soldiers storming the house. He sneered in rage, his eyes growing black as his hatred consumed him. The Lady Diana’s fate was now sealed. She would serve as a pawn to help him escape, and then whether he was able to perform for her or not her body would be the final sacrifice to his revenge.

Dawn slowly crept in the room. Kiana was now wide awake. Neither she nor Diana knew what was happening, and they both felt helpless. Diana ran to the balcony, desperately seeing if she could tell what was happening. There were several bodies strewn around the fountain below. What she could not see was Legionary Felix directly beneath the balcony, who had just finished removing his armor and was making ready to climb the fountain. Diana rushed back inside and started removing blankets from her bed.

“Help me with this,” she directed Kiana. “There doesn’t appear to be any of those thugs left alive outside. We can tie the blankets to the balcony and climb down.”

“Yes my Lady,” Kiana acknowledged. Suddenly the door to Diana’s room was flung open. She was unsurprised to see Heracles standing there and was a bit unnerved by his demeanor. His good nature had evaporated. His eyes seethed with hatred, and he held a dagger, her dagger, in his right hand. Kiana knelt in the corner behind the door, terrified.

“You are coming with me, bitch!” he snarled as he rushed towards her. She reached up and grabbed hold of his wrist with one hand and tried to push him away with the other. Heracles was startled by her strength. In a panic he swung hard with his left hand and punched her across the mouth. He then wrapped his arm around her neck and placed the point of the dagger at her throat.

“If I am to die, I’m taking you with me! So you had best be a cooperative little harlot. Now move!”

“Leave her alone, she hasn’t done anything!” Kiana snapped as she stood before them. Heracles sneered and s
lammed Diana’s head into the wall, momentarily knocking her senseless. He then grabbed Kiana gruffly by the hair and threw her across the room, where she fell next to the balcony. Before Diana could react, Heracles had the dagger at her throat once more.

“Young Kiana, you were such a fool,” he said as they stepped out of the room. “You played the part so well. I release you from my service. Die in whatever manner the Romans see fit for you.”
Kiana heard the door being bolted as soon as it was shut.

She was then startled by further
noise and commotion. Men were racing past her door, shouting in loud voices and suddenly she was afraid. These men, Heracles in particular, were inherently evil. She shuddered to think that she had allowed that man to brainwash her into believing she was helping her people when in reality it had led to murder and butchery. She knew why the men were running; they had been found, and their time of retribution had come. She then feared that she would be used as a hostage, or worse killed by the thugs in their state of panic.

She heard a clambering outside the window and saw a young man in a legionary tunic pull himself through the window. Kiana immediatel
y recognized Legionary Felix.

“We’ve got to go,” he said once he regained his footing. A coil of rope was slung over his shoulder; off the other hung his gladius. Felix removed the rope and started tying an end to the bed post.

“What are you doing here?” Kiana asked.

“I promised your sister I would get you out of here before something really bad happens to you,” he replied while synching the rope.
“Looks like I got here just in time. Where is the Lady Diana?”

“They took her away,” Kiana replied, her voice shaking. “Felix…I am so sorry for all the hurt I have brought to you and my sister.” Felix shook his head as he uncoiled the rope.

“It’s alright,” he replied, looking up at her with a smile. She smiled back, her heart full of hope for the first time. “What matters is we get you out of here and return you safe to Tierney and all those who love you.” At that moment the door was kicked in.

Radek stood with a look of surprise and rage. He growled and lunged at Felix, slicing open the legionary’s belly with a backhand slash of his cleaver before the young man could draw his gladius. Felix collapsed onto the bed, grimacing in extreme pain. Radek raised his cleaver to strike again when Kiana pounced on his back, vainly attempting to strangle him.

“You bastard!”
she screamed as Radek slammed her forcibly into the wall. Her vision clouded as the wind was knocked from her. He then spun around and swung his cleaver in a rage, the blade tearing through her jugular. Kiana collapsed against the wall, her eyes wide in terror as she frantically fought to stop the torrent of blood.

“Filthy bitch,” Radek swore in a low voice. As he turned back to finish the gravely wounded legionary, Felix summoned the last of his strength, drew his gladius and plung
ed his weapon into Radek’s groin. As the stricken rebel howled in immeasurable pain brought on by his severed genitalia and punctured bladder, Felix grabbed him by the back of the head, dragging him to the ground, his own mortal wounds blinding him with agony. He withdrew his gladius and in a rough sawing motion severed Radek’s head from his spine. As the floor became saturated with blood, Felix dropped his weapon and crawled on his side over to where Kiana lay dying. Her hand was still clasped to the side of her neck, blood gushing from the wound. Her eyes were wide, her breath coming in short gasps.

“Sister,
I am so sorry,” Felix said as he clutched her free hand. Kiana squeezed his hand and weakly shook her head.

“No,” she whispered. “It is I who brought about our deaths.
Oh Felix, I am so sorry…I would like to have become your little sister…” Her breathing became shallow and then ceased altogether; a final tear falling from her eye, her hand giving Felix’s one last squeeze before life abandoned her. The legionary rolled to his back, one hand clutching his ruptured abdomen, the other Kiana’s now lifeless hand. He sobbed uncontrollably as pain and sorrow overtook him.

“Over here!” Magnus shouted as he pointed to an outside door that led into the hallway parallel to the room Felix had breached from below.

“Let’s go!”
Artorius shouted as he rushed up the short flight of stairs. The landing inside was short, just long enough for three rooms to occupy. The last door was open; a pool of blood flowing onto the landing.

“Dear gods, no,” Artorius said in a low voice. A horrifying sight greeted him as he stepped into the gore-stricken room. On the right side lay the decapitated corpse of Heracles’ deputy, that vile bastard Radek. In the near corner on his left he saw the lifeless body of Kiana lying next to the stricken Legionary Felix, who was sobbing weakly as the pain of his terrible wound consumed him.

“I’m sorry Sir,” he said as Artorius knelt down to tend to him. “I’m so sorry…please…please tell Tierney I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” the Decanus replied as he picked up the fallen soldier. Felix gave fresh cry of pain as Artorius laid him on the bed. He grimaced when he saw how badly the legionary was wounded. The abdomen was sliced cleanly open and was seeping blood and fluid. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, not even acknowledging the presence of Magnus and the rest of his section.

“Artorius, there’s no sign of…dear gods,” Magnus stopped short when he saw the wounded legionary. He scarcely paid any heed to the corpses or the blood that was sticking to his caligae sandals. Valens shook his head sadly as he eyed to horrific sight. He knelt next to Kiana’s body and gently closed her eyes.

“You have to go,” Felix said between gasps. “There’s…nothing you can do for me.” Artorius shook his head and immediately started tearing into the bed sheets, making a hasty bandage.

“You don’t die until I tell you to!” he said as he wrapped the sheets around the legionary’s torso. He rolled up one section into a ball, which he placed directly over the wound before tying it down. “We’ll get you help as soon as we can. You just stay alive; you hear me?” Felix nodded, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

From the commotion coming from the courtyard, Artorius surmised that Macro and the rest of the Century had breached the gate. The alarm had been raised once they did, but it did not matter now. It was quickly getting light out, and he desperately wanted to link up with the rest of his unit.
Someone had to go fetch help, lest Felix die a slow and agonizing death. The lad had come with him with the purest of intentions and there was no way he was going to let him die.

Quickly they descended the outside steps and raced towards where they knew the front gate to be.
As Artorius rounded a corner, as spear flew from a nearby balcony. It had a wide blade for a head, and it imbedded itself deep into his thigh, the tip impacting the bone.

“Son of a bitch!”
he screamed in pain, as Magnus and Valens caught him. As he wrenched the weapon from his leg, he saw a Roman javelin come sailing from the lower right of the balcony, skewing the thrower, who pitched over the side. Artorius looked over to see Decimus with Carbo and Gavius, who had thrown the javelin.

“Are you alright?” Decimus asked as he rushed over to his Sergeant.

“It’s not bleeding too badly,” Artorius observed, taking a deep breath. “It will probably start hurting like hell once this rush of adrenaline wears off!” With that he limped off with the rest of his section towards where they guessed the rest of their Century was.

“Where’s Felix?” Carbo asked.

“He’s hurt badly,” Magnus replied as he braced Artorius upright. “We have to get him help or he’s not going to make it.”

“And the girl?” Decimus asked. Valens shook his head; all the reply any of the men needed.

“Let’s go before my leg seizes up on me,” Artorius ordered.

The main hall was filled with gladiators and rebels trying to escape the pending slaughter. Optio Flaccus and his men marched deliberately down the hall on line, swords drawn. As they came to rooms, sections would break off and clear them before the entire force would move on. Often the sounds of a scuffle could be heard inside as the rebels were overwhelmed. Many ran from the sight of the wall of men and steel, instead hoping to escape through the main gate, where unbeknownst to them Macro and the rest of the Century waited. It was Sergeant Rufio who first came upon the room where Felix lay dying.

“Praxus get up here!”
he shouted. His fellow Decanus was at his side in a moment, the vision of his soldier mortally stricken with the girl Kiana lying slain wrenched at his heart.

“Sergeant,” Felix said with a shallow smile, his face pale and damp. Praxus clutched his hand and looked at the sodden bandages over his abdomen.

“Sergeant Artorius,” Felix explained. “He’s gone to get help. I’m sorry…” Praxus clutched the legionary’s hand and shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “You served honorably, you did your best. I am proud to have you as one of my legionaries.” He then turned to see two of his men standing in the doorway, their faces agape in horror.

“Praxus, Sergeant Artorius has been hit too,” one of the men said. “I saw his men helping him away.”