Hostage to Fortuna

like a hammer, thatcould be used to defend themselves. Thankfully, for both us and theParisii, the warriors stopped at our line, and most importantly,did not draw their weapons, seemingly content to shake their fistsand shout at my men. When one of them, Marcus Atilius, glanced overhis shoulder, I nodded, and my men stepped aside, the four Parisiirushing the length of the dock, where they could only watchhelplessly since we were already more than fifty paces out into theriver. We had gotten away, certainly a good thing, but our problemswere far from over, as we were about to discover. All of the menwith us had taken turns at the oars, but we quickly determined thattheir newfound experience was useless, because there were nooarlocks, which meant they had to turn about to sit on one of thecrosspieces and paddle instead of row. In other circumstances, itwould have been comical, and I confess I was to blame because Ibecame as flustered as everyone else aboard as we bickered aboutthe best way to paddle. What was not so humorous was that, as wesorted ourselves out, we were drifting downstream, but we finallygot into a rhythm, and when I say “we,” I mean we, since I feltpersonally responsible for not thinking ahead. Acisculus took theresponsibility for steering the craft, which did have theequivalent of an attached steering oar, and we began makingheadway; I just hoped that we had not wasted too much of whatdaylight was left, because this was another element crucial to ourplan.

“We can’t ask for a guide, and wecan’t steal some of their oxen because I have no fucking idea howwe would load them on their kind of boats,” was how I had put it.“But since we know the general direction from the river, and howfar it is, if we get there with enough daylight, we should be ableto spot this forest.”

“Without the oxen, how are we gettingthose big fucking trees back here?”

In answer to Columella’s question, I pointedto myself first, then explained, “We’re going to be the oxen.” Iwent on to name the men of both Centuries whose strength was wellknown throughout the Cohort, although we were missing two men whowere even stronger than those I named, but one was with thewounded, and the other was dead. “We’re going to have to pull thesledge back, so I want a harness rigged up for us that allows sixmen at a time to pull the sledge, and we’ll switch out.”

If the gods were with us and the timing wasright, our hope was that we would reach the forest with just enoughdaylight left to select at least two trees, bring them down, trimthem, then make our way back in the darkness. There was so muchthat could go wrong, but there was one thing out of our controlthat I had the most confidence in, and that was those unseenBrigantes being far more concerned with the sight of heavily armedRomans heading back in the general direction of the largestBrigantes town in this area than leaving a man to watch for somesort of trickery. And, even if they did, they would have to hurrydownriver to alert the rest of the Brigantes. Nevertheless, when wereached the opposite bank, as the men dragged the boat out of thewater, I scanned the spot that provided the only real cover foranyone spying on Petuar, a clump of scrubby trees and bushes aboutfifty paces away from the riverbank, but I saw no signs ofmovement.

“We’re ready, Pilus Prior,” Acisculusinformed me, and with four men carrying the sledge, we began movinginland, keeping the muddy stream that Ivomagus had mentioned thatran more or less straight past this forest to our right.

I led the way, with Numerius Cotta, from mySecond Section, next to me. Cotta was of average height, but he wasalmost as broad across the shoulders as I was, and mostimportantly, he was Cohort wrestling champion, and his strength wasalmost as formidable as his fighting ability. It was for the latterskill that he was placed next to me at the start. I had AulusPulvillus of the Second Century ranging out on the side opposite usfrom the stream, watching upriver for any sign of movement. Wemoved more quickly than I would have liked, since from a distancewhat attracts the eye is movement, and the faster it is, the morelikely it is to draw attention, but this was an acceptable risk andmade necessary by our bungling the crossing. We moved about a mileinland, whereupon we stopped and switched out the men carrying thesledge, and this time, I was joined by Publius Bibaculus from myNinth Section. He was taller than average, though a couple inchesshorter than I was, but he presented quite an odd appearancebecause most of his weight was below the waist; he had thighs that,if anything, were a bit larger than mine, making him ideally suitedfor dragging a heavy object. Although the ground looked flat, itbecame obvious that we were climbing a very gradual incline,prompting us to switch out sooner than we had planned, and I beganto fret at every delay as I shifted my attention back and forthbetween the setting sun and the way ahead. We were using a trackthat paralleled the stream, more of a footpath than anything, andit could very easily have been created by animals and not men. Onlyonce did we see any sign of human habitation, a thatched hut on theopposite side of the stream, where I saw some tiny figures standinga short distance away from the hut, and I thought they might belooking in our direction, although there was nothing to be doneabout it. About two miles from the river, it was Manius Curvus, whoI had sent to replace Pulvillus, who called out to me, then pointedoff to his left. Even with the fading light, we could see thelighter color of the tree trunks that were at the outer edge of theforest, prompting a low cheer, and we changed direction for thefirst time, moving away from the stream. We reached the edge of theforest just as the lower edge of the