Scythian Read online

  Prologue

  For a thousand years, Rome had endured.

  From the time of the kings, through the centuries of the Republic, Rome prospered. Great men such as Julius Caesar, Augustus and Trajan expanded Rome’s dominion.

  But a shadow is descending over the Empire. Hostile barbarian hordes are breaching the vast frontiers. Civil war, the plague and economic hardship are eating away at the very soul of Rome.

  But the gods have not yet abandoned Rome.

  From a humble background in Illyria, a boy emerges as the only hope of civilisation.

  He is destined to accomplish the impossible.

  This is the story of his journey.

  Chapter 1 – Night after the harvest

  Nik slowly rose to a standing position, placing his calloused hand in the small of his back. He stretched, and pointed towards the sky with a grim smile: “That’s what they call a harvest moon, boy. There will be no rest until all of it is gathered.” He turned his gaze to the east where ominous clouds were gathering on the horizon. “It will rain tomorrow, mark my words. We have to finish. If the wheat gets water, the black rot will claim it all.”

  I knew the worth of a sharp sickle. It made the back breaking work bearable. But in the dim blue light of the moon, I cut my fingers and my hands. Deep, throbbing cuts.

  The gods favoured us and soon the last sheaves were under roof.

  Slowly we made our way to our room. Overcome by fatigue, we collapsed on our beds. Neglecting to give thanks to the gods and conveniently choosing to ignore the hunger.

  I guess it was the combination of pain and exhaustion that kept me awake, or maybe the fact that Nik had promised me that we could go riding the next day. I heard the soft whinnies emanating from the stables. Only a thin wooden wall separated the small room from the horses. It was Nik’s room, but he allowed me to share it with him.

  Nik was the oldest person I knew. I wasn’t sure how old, but Nik told me stories about Marcus Aurelius and Commodus. Stories so convincing, I was sure he knew those great men. Just maybe Nik was a liar after all, but he was the only one who wanted me after Mother had died. So I forgave Nik, just in case.

  The horses were restless.

  Then I heard it. I knew the sound well. The sound of an arrow leaving the bowstring.

  The horses stirred again.

  Nik was snoring.

  I rose from my straw mattress with the nimble movement only afforded to the very young and took my most prized possession from under the bed. My wooden sword. Nik made it for me. He was teaching me. Nik said he owed it to the gods. I didn’t understand how you could owe the gods something. How things change.

  I remember feeling safe with the sword in my hand. The moon was still bathing the yard in its waning light and I noticed movement within the shadows.

  Nik was a kind man, although there were rules. I was forbidden to wake him. Not that it mattered, because he was always the one who woke me. I was sure that I could break this rule once, maybe.

  I walked over to Nik and stood next to his bed, unsure of how to wake him. I had never done it before. Maybe the old man would get a fright and die. Maybe that was the reason why it was not allowed. Suddenly I doubted whether I should do it.

  The horses whinnied again.

  Panicking, I reached down and touched Nik’s shoulder. In a blur of movement I was on my back with the edge of a dagger pressed firmly against my neck. This didn’t scare me though. It was the look in his eyes that unsettled me. A look I had never seen before, cold and merciless. The menace disappeared as recognition dawned in the old man’s eyes. He snapped away the dagger and hugged me close, his hands examining me for wounds.

  “Lucius, are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” the old man whispered in panic. I shook my head and hugged him. “Nik, there are men outside. I’m sorry I woke you”, I stammered too loudly. Nik placed his finger to his lips. He strapped on his sword and took his bow from the wall. And what a bow it was. I spent countless hours admiring the weapon. Nik once told me how it was made. Only a few men in the world knew how. None lived within the borders of civilisation. These barbarian craftsmen used the finest of woods, dried for years. The wood was strengthened by many layers of deer tendons meticulously glued and then covered in birch bark. The inside of the bow was plated with pieces of horn from a rare species of cattle and fused together with glue derived from the intestines of a fish that lives far to the east. The bow was a thing of beauty, but it was as deadly as it was beautiful. Wielded with skill it was more powerful than could be imagined. I knew, I had witnessed its power.

  “Lucius, there are bad men outside. I will chase them away. Stay inside”, Nik whispered as he took five arrows from his quiver. He did not wait for an answer, but there was enough authority in his voice to persuade me to obey.

  Nik did not say I wasn’t allowed to watch though. I had enough common sense not to go to the window. There was a crack in the wood where two planks were badly joined. I vaguely recalled Nik mentioning the carpenter being executed due to poor workmanship. Nik repeatedly threatened to fix it, but during the harvest, time was at a premium. The crack was wide enough to afford a good view of the yard. Nik was keeping to the shadows of the outbuildings.

  Three dark figures were approaching the stables. They moved liked thieves. Not the confident strides of men who belong. One man carried a bow with a nocked arrow and the rest had swords in their hands. They were about as far away as a boy could throw a good stone when Nik released his first arrow. The bowman dropped with an arrow protruding from his head. Few archers used the technique of the Scythian archers where the arrows are held in the draw hand. The old man did.

  The other two men died before the bowman hit the ground.

  Flames and smoke were erupting from the main house and illuminated the three dead men. It drew the attention of the remaining four raiders. They advanced cautiously, but they were silhouetted against the fire. I heard the rapid twang of two arrows released in succession and another two men lost their lives. One of the attackers pointed in Nik’s direction and they approached his shadowy hiding place. Nik had spent all his arrows and put down the bow, stepping into the light. The two men moved apart and approached Nik from different angles.

  They were close to my vantage point. The men were muscular with close cropped black hair and clean shaven faces. They wore brown travel tunics with thickly woven red cloaks. These were no brigands.

  “You know why we are here old man. You knew we would find you eventually”, the obvious leader hissed in perfect unaccented Latin. “No man can hide from him, not even you could. He wants your head, and the letter”, he continued.

  Nik remained silent and calmly strode to within sword range, facing the leader with his back to the henchman. He walked with the gait of an old man, with a slight limp. His gladius was sheathed and his hands were held palms up.

  I became paralyzed by a feeling of impending doom and I wanted to go and help the old man. Sometimes the gods intervene. If I had stepped outside that night, I would surely have been killed. What match is a boy for trained killers?

  “Time to die, old man”, the leader hissed and grinned. He menacingly stepped closer to Nik and raised his long cavalry sword over his right shoulder, ready to strike. He wore the look of a man about to kill a lame, troublesome dog. But with a speed and agility that belied his age, Nik stepped into the blow, drew his razor sharp Gallic gladius and with an upward strike severed the leader’s hand at the wrist. He fell, screaming, desperately clutching his arm, trying to stem the flow of blood. Nik put him out of his misery.

  The second man’s attack was lightning fast. He feigned to the right. Nik took the bait and lost his footing, going down on one knee. The man grinned and moved in for the easy kill. It was a manoeuver the ol
d man had practised countless times. He blocked the strike, using the power of his legs to propel himself upward, unbalancing his opponent. The henchman staggered backwards. Nik pivoted on his right heel and took the head with a single blow.

  An eerie silence descended over the yard. Nik returned to looking like an old man again and there was no sign of the skilled warrior. I ran outside. “Wine, boy. Bring me wine, the good stuff”, Nik growled. I ran back inside and poured his large wooden beaker full to the brim. I handed it to Nik as he entered the room. “You take the first swallow, Lucius”, Nik commanded. I drank a huge mouthful of the dark red wine and handed it to Nik, who finished it in one go and held the empty beaker for a refill.

  Nik sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed and sighed: “That’s better.”

  “Who were they, and what did they want with you?” I blurted out.

  “It is a long, long, story, my boy. I guess I need to tell you, hey? But before I do, we need to do a few things. Now go get my bow, I left it outside and I told you it might rain!”

  Chapter 2 – Road to Sirmium

  The action of the previous evening had left me exhausted and I woke a full watch past sunrise. My eyes searched the room, but Nik had left without waking me.

  My first thought was that it had all been a bad dream. I became aware of the acrid smell of burnt timber and realised that the memories were real. Too real.

  I found Nik at work at the burnt out remains of the villa. He was unceremoniously dragging the last of the dead attackers by his feet into one of the small free standing store rooms. “Lucius, fetch an amphora of oil from the barn”, Nik commanded. I could see that the old man was in a dark mood so I didn’t consider voicing any of the questions that were milling around in my head. The answers would come in time.

  I helped Nik to pour oil over the bodies. He used a glowing ember from the smouldering villa to set the building alight.

  As smoke poured from the window openings, Nik visibly relaxed. “Well at least that is done”, he mumbled.

  Nik didn’t look at me, but kept staring into the flames, emotionless. “Lucius. All the people who lived here are dead. Dead. All killed by the men that I dealt with. Your friend Plotius, old Rufius, even Gaius. All dead. The owner of the small estate Quintus Domitius, killed in cold blood. All the bodies of our friends burned with the villa and the labourers’ quarters. There is nothing to say goodbye to. No one to bury. No mouths to place a coin into, no prayers to be said.”

  “Walk with me, boy”, Nik growled as he turned around and slowly limped back to our room. “Lucius, now is the time for action, we will mourn our friends later. If this incident is not handled correctly, there will be questions and I will end up on a cross and you at the slave market. Let’s see what we need to pack and get to Sirmium before the sun sets.”

  Fortunately the horses were all still safe, even though the carts were kept in the main barn which was reduced to ash. We had no option but to travel light.

  “I know Sirmium is only two hours away Lucius, but I do not think that we will come back here. Pack what you need. Only what you need. And say your goodbyes. Do it with haste.”

  Nik and I saddled our favourite horses as well as reliable spares. We took a pack horse each which could be used as a second spare. Nik said: “We will take the weapons, the cooking pot, plates and mugs. I will buy a tent in Sirmium. Don’t worry about food and clothes, we will buy that as well, but make sure you pack the red wine. Only the good stuff though, the sour shit I can get anywhere.”

  He strapped on his gladius and attached his bow and quiver to his saddle. While he was fiddling with the buckles he growled: “And bring that leather wrapping to me. It’s under my bed.”

  I sighed on the inside, rather than out loud. It wasn’t the right time to test Nik’s patience. I dismounted and appeared a couple of moments later with the leather package.

  “I took this off the leader, boy. It’s a gift. A reward for all the effort you’ve put into the training.” He abruptly turned around and started walking his horse down the road.

  I placed the package on the ground and unwrapped the oiled leather cover. Inside was a Roman short sword. I realised this was no ordinary military issue sword. I could hardly believe it. With a trembling hand I lifted the blade by its leather wrapped hilt. It was still a bit too heavy, but I could wield it, though with difficulty. The blade was perfectly balanced. I would ask Nik about this weapon. I wrapped it again reverently, tied it to my saddle and trotted off to catch up to the old man.

  I found Nik a few moments later. He had dismounted and was kneeling next to a pile of stones. “Are you just going to sit there and think about your new sword or are you going to help me?” he growled. I jumped off the horse and gave Nik a bear hug. “Thank you Nik, it is unbelievable.” “Bah… it’s just a sword… now help me and stop acting like a girl.”

  A third of a watch later the cuts on my hands were bleeding and a sizeable pile of rocks lay next to Nik’s feet. I removed yet another rock which revealed the lid of a wooden chest. I cleared the last of the stones away and Nik helped me to lift the chest from the hole. He opened the lid. Never in my life had I seen so many gold coins. There must have been enough gold to buy one hundred estates such as the one we had worked on. Nik handed me three leather pouches. “Fill them up properly and put the chest back. You had better mark this spot in your mind, boy. Next time I might not be here to show you where to dig.”

  Chapter 3 – Procurator

  We reached the city of Sirmium at dusk.

  Labourers, merchants and travellers tend to crowd city gates at dusk, choosing to spend the night within the relative safety of walls.

  The gates close at sunset. Only the privilege of rank or the application of a generous bribe to the watch officer would get them to open just wide enough for one to slip in. Alternatively, one spends the night outside, which comes with its own set of risks.

  We were four hundred paces from the gate when Nik gave me a nudge and said: “Relax boy, let me handle this. We don’t want them to search us and confiscate the gold.”

  Our appearance was typical of Roman settlers, but the locals tended to imitate. Any doubt was removed from the mind of the duty guards when Nik greeted them in perfect Latin. Shaving one’s hair and wearing Roman clothes is easy, but acquiring a patrician accent is close to impossible for the average barbarian.

  It’s strange how people are somehow set at ease by shared ethnicity. There was no real looming threat to the city so the duty centurion did not afford us more than a cursory glance. The local Pannonians walking behind us were stopped for a full search. It’s always more fun to terrorise people if they don’t look or speak like your mother or cousin. Anyway, that helped to get us off the hook. Bad luck for the locals though.

  To my surprise, Nik knew his way around the city. We walked in silence through the cobbled streets. Nik was quiet because he was scheming. I was quiet because it was my first time in a city and I was totally overwhelmed. Some memories stick, who knows why. I clearly remember that we passed a tavern with a picture of a rearing horse, a grizzled old man with one eye missing leaning against the door frame. Weird. Anyway, that and the terrible smell of shit. That’s what I remember.

  The further we walked into the city, the more the neighbourhood improved. The smell of shit became less prominent and the streets became cleaner and less cluttered. More soldiers patrolled the streets. “We are getting closer to the place that we need to visit”, Nik said as he stopped in front of an inn that looked too upmarket to suit our ragged appearance. Two huge brutes flanked the entrance to the courtyard. I had no doubt that their loose clothing concealed weapons. Nik exchanged a few words with them and a couple of heartbeats later one of the guards appeared with a well-groomed individual in tow. I assumed it was the innkeeper. He did not seem overly keen to deal with us. Nik took the man aside, spoke quietly and produced a gold coin. The gold made all the difference in the world.

  Nik spoke to the in
nkeeper with an air of authority, bordering on arrogance: “We need a comfortable room for at least two nights with stabling for six horses. Good food and good wine for me and my son. Arrange for a tailor to be brought to us within the hour.” Before the innkeeper could answer, Nik produced another gold aureus. He did not wait for the innkeeper to respond, but entered the inn. The innkeeper, whose body language had changed from haughty to subservient, hurried past us and led us to a fabulous room with a small balcony. “Leave us”, Nik said gruffly.

  That day Nik unknowingly taught me a valuable lesson concerning the use of money.

  The tailor arrived within a third of a watch. He took our measurements and promised to have our new tunics and wool cloaks ready by sunrise. He would have to work all night. For the right amount of gold, one can persuade men to do almost anything.

  Nik woke me early. The inn had its own baths with slaves in attendance. We were oiled and cleaned by slaves. Nick ordered a shave and we both had our hair trimmed neatly. All administered by willing slaves. Our new clothes were neatly laid out on the soft mattresses by the time we arrived back at our room.

  I was amazed at what could be achieved by a couple of small gold coins. I still am, sometimes.

  “Lucius, dress yourself in the white cloak and the thin tunic. Make it quick, we have a lot to do today”.

  A hearty breakfast was laid out on the table on the balcony. Cold pork roast, freshly baked bread with honey and olives. Nik ordered two mugs of watered white wine of an unknown vintage. We gorged ourselves on the rich feast and slaves brought us wet towels to wipe our hands and faces.

  I followed Nik into the busy street. He walked with a determined stride.

  We did not have far to travel and soon came to a halt in front of an impressive stone building in the forum. It was well guarded with at least half a dozen heavily armed legionaries standing to attention.

  Nik walked to the guard at the entrance and said: “I need to see the procurator.” “Do you have an official appointment?” the guard replied. “No, but…” The guard cut him off in mid-sentence: “Stuff off then, grandpa, before you get yourself arrested.”