The Black Stone (50 page)

‘What about the inner gate?’

‘Good news and bad,’ replied Khalima. ‘Because the chiefs are being housed inside there is a bit of traffic, so we may be able to get through – especially if Adayyid can get us some help.’

‘The bad?’ asked Cassius.

‘I heard from one of Mushannaf’s men that there is still a small detachment of guards protecting the stone.’

‘At least the crane and the platform are quite a way from the gate,’ said Cassius.

‘My men can kill quietly,’ said Khalima. ‘But even then, we’ve still got to get the rock onto the cart and get back out again.’

‘And what about what happens inside that cavern?’ said Mercator. ‘We can’t know
exactly
when the ethnarchs will strike or how it will affect what we’re doing.’

‘We need some kind of distraction,’ said Khalima. ‘Something to occupy the guards.’

‘We’ll see what we can come up with,’ said Cassius. ‘What about the outer gate?’

‘Never less than six by the doors and old Theomestor seldom strays far. Then there are those accursed archers in the tower.’

‘You can leave them to me,’ said Indavara.

‘Ulixes?’ asked Cassius.

‘We didn’t see him,’ said Khalima.

‘But I saw you.’ Ulixes appeared suddenly out of the darkness.

The four others stared at him, dumbstruck.

The gambler winked at Khalima. ‘I wouldn’t advise a career in espionage. If those guards had anything about them they would have seen you scouting the place.’

‘Where were you?’ asked the Saracen.

‘Good question,’ added Cassius.

‘Around. Stupid though they are, Ilaha’s men aren’t opening that gate for anyone but their own. The Goat Trail is well guarded too. So it looks like I’m stuck with you lot. I assume you’re going for the stone after all, correct?’

Nobody said anything.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. From what I can tell there at least seems to be no system of alarm. So the men at the inner gate can’t communicate with the men at the outer gate; which is good. Got transportation?’

‘That’s proving rather problematic,’ admitted Cassius.

‘Not any more. If you can spare a hundred denarii, there’s an innkeeper down there will sell you his wine-cart. He’s been doing a roaring trade since all the warriors arrived but he’ll part with it if the price is right. Those things are strong because they have to carry a huge weight of liquid – the wine’s all in one big leather bag in the back of the cart. Once all the wine’s out you can cut a hole in it and use it to cover the stone. I had a look at it. It’ll do the job.’

‘Very resourceful,’ said Cassius. He looked down at the sack Ulixes was holding. ‘What do you have there?’

‘A few bits and bobs. Seems to me we’re going to need some kind of distraction.’

Half an hour later, they had the cart.

‘That’ll do nicely,’ said Cassius as he walked along the side of it, checking the sturdy wheels and solid construction. At the rear was a hinged plank of wood that could be lowered for loading. Mercator was already in the back, cutting up the huge wine skin. Yorvah had just brought out two of the calmest horses from the corral to draw the vehicle. Andal, meanwhile, was getting the other mounts ready to move. He was to lead a third group, which would bring the horses down to the outer gate at the last moment.

Cassius looked out at the rest of the encampment. Although the canyon was now dark, many of the other tribesmen were still making their own preparations and were too busy to notice theirs.

‘Sir.’ From the top of the cart, Mercator nodded down at Adayyid, who had just appeared out of the gloom.

‘We have him.’

Cassius followed the Saracen back to their tent. Inside, he found the young engineer on his knees and surrounded. One man was binding his hands, while another had an arm around his throat and a knife against his neck. Khalima ruffled his hair and grinned. The Arabian spat curses.

‘Adayyid told him we needed help with a damaged cart,’ explained Khalima. ‘Paid him up front for his help.’

Adayyid plucked a silver coin from the money bag on the captive’s belt.

‘Sure he’ll cooperate?’ asked Cassius.

‘Never,’ said the young man in Greek.

The Saracen with the knife pressed the blade in harder.

‘What’s the name?’ asked Khalima.

‘Reyazz,’ said Adayyid.

‘So you’re an engineer, eh, Reyazz? Good with your hands, then?’

Khalima drew his own curved dagger and took hold of the younger man’s wrist. ‘Not so easy with missing fingers though, eh? Tell me, which one can you most easily do without?’

Khalima gently ran the blade across the digits. ‘This one? This one? Come on, you choose.’

Reyazz gaped at the knife, not daring to move an inch.

‘Very well, I shall choose.’ Khalima gripped the middle finger and lined up the dagger. ‘Ah. I almost forgot. The scream. Somebody gag him.’

Another of the Saracens located a cloth and came forward. It was close to Reyazz’s mouth when he gave in.

‘All right. All right. I’ll do as you tell me.’

‘Good lad.’

On the way back to his tent, Cassius passed Ulixes. The gambler was sitting alone, cracking a striker against a flint.

‘You have two, I take it. To be sure?’

‘Relax, grain man. I was doing this shit when you were just doing shit.’

Cassius was too busy laughing to feel insulted.

Ulixes put the equipment back into the sack. Next to it was a lantern and an hourglass which he peered at before packing it away. ‘Three-quarters of an hour. I’ll leave now, get in position.’

‘Where exactly are you—’

‘Haven’t decided yet. Just keep a look out – it’ll be big, orange and smoky.’

‘Sure you don’t want some help? I can probably spare a man.’

‘I’ll work better alone. This will help, though.’

Ulixes touched the tunic beneath his cloak. Simo’s task had been to sew a yellow solar emblem onto one for every man. ‘Looks like I’m not the only one with good ideas.’

Ulixes stood and patted down the usual errant strands of hair.

‘Be careful,’ said Cassius.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ replied the ex-legionary as he picked up the lantern. ‘Just make sure there’s a horse for me at that gate.’

They gripped forearms. Ulixes shuttered the lantern, walked towards the track and disappeared into the night.

As soon as Cassius entered their tent for the last time, Simo approached him.

‘Sir.’

‘What is it?’

‘I understand that a third group led by Master Andal is to watch the horses and bring them down to the road for the others.’

‘That’s right.’

‘I wondered, sir – if it’s agreeable to you – could I stay with them?’

Behind him, Indavara had just pulled his mail-shirt on and was now adjusting his belt.

Cassius looked at Simo. His broad, kind face was tight with nerves.

‘Don’t want to get caught up in any fighting, eh? Well, why not? To be honest, I wish I could join you.’

‘Thank you, sir. When are we leaving?’

‘As soon as I’ve got
my
mail-shirt on.’

Cassius removed his belt and knelt down, then pulled his tunic off. Simo took the padded undershirt from where it had been lying on his pack and put it on him. Once it was tightened, Simo picked up the mail-shirt. The rings jangled as he lowered it over Cassius’s head.

‘At least you’re getting your money’s worth out of that thing at last,’ said Indavara.

Cassius tugged at the leather collar of the shirt. ‘By Mars, I’d forgotten how bloody heavy these things are.’

‘Not as heavy as mine,’ said Indavara. ‘We can’t all afford copper alloy.’ He pulled a long-sleeved tunic on over it, complete with the solar symbol.

Simo was tugging the bottom of the mail-shirt.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Cassius.

Simo let go. ‘Sorry, sir. It’s been a while.’

Indavara came over, shaking his head. ‘How many times do I have to tell you two? Practise, practise, practise. Check, check and check again. If either of you had ever bothered to listen to me you would know what you’re doing.’

Simo moved aside.

‘Look here,’ said Indavara. ‘The double layer at the shoulder – it’s tangled.’ He pulled at the shoulders and sleeves until the mail was even against the undershirt. ‘There.’

Simo put one of Cassius’s long-sleeved tunics on over the top – also complete with the symbol.

Indavara had more advice as Simo put on his master’s belt. ‘Higher and tighter than usual – you don’t want the mail riding up.’

Once this was done, Simo reached for the sword belt but Indavara grabbed it and chucked it at Cassius. ‘He’s not a child. Let him do it himself, get a feel for it.’

Cassius hung it over his shoulder, then got to his feet.

‘Good height?’ asked Indavara.

Cassius reached down for the hilt. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Better than that big thing, but you’re not used to a smaller blade now, so if you get in a scrap remember to keep moving.’ Indavara tapped Cassius’s chest. ‘Fortunately, not much will go through that.’

‘Feels good. Safe.’

‘Safe? If anyone works out you’ve got armour on they’ll go for your head or groin.’

‘I take it back.’

When Cassius’s hourglass showed that the third hour was close, the entire group gathered for a final time by the unlit fire. Quiet farewells were said then they pulled on their packs and went their separate ways. Indavara and his team left first; they were to edge around the camp and the town before approaching the outer wall. With him were Mercator, Yorvah and eleven of the auxiliaries. The other five men – along with Andal and Simo – headed over to the corral. Both groups would do nothing until they saw a signal from the third group.

Cassius walked up to the cart. Khalima was holding a shuttered lantern and sitting in the rear of the vehicle along with most of his men. Between the driver and Adayyid on the bench at the front sat Reyazz. No longer bound, he nonetheless had to contend with the blade Adayyid was holding against his back.

Cassius climbed up and saw that the box containing the purchased items was lying next to the wine skin. Once he’d taken his pack off and got settled, Khalima gave a quiet word to the driver, who set the horses away at a gentle walk. The only noise was the rattling of the wheels and the occasional shout from the compound. Cassius was certain Ulixes would be over there somewhere.