There was no argument, which I did notexpect, or comment, but I believe that was because everyone wascatching their breath, and we resumed quickly enough. The situationwas serious, yet we still had some advantages; we were working inthe dark, and men who are riding or walking while holding torchesare essentially blind to any kind of movement outside the arc ofthe torchlight because they usually hold the torch too close totheir line of vision. My father had taught me about the importanceof night vision, and whenever we did something by torchlight, herequired the men holding the torch to hold it aloft in theiroutstretched arm, but I had never seen anyone else doing that,hence my cautious belief. After we had traveled another hundredpaces, I could also see that, while they were heading in ourdirection, with our rate of travel and provided they did notdeviate by angling towards the river, they would cut across thetrail made by the sledge a decent distance behind us. I do not knowmuch about tracking, but given the dark, my hope was that thebarbarians would have to spend a few heartbeats trying to determinewhich way we were headed once they came across our trail.Nevertheless, we moved as quickly as we could, and I had droppedbehind the sledge, keeping Cotta and Fimbria from the First, andTiberius Crassipes with me as we followed behind, stopping everyfew paces. Thanks to that gentle grade, we could just see themoonlight reflecting off the river, and it looked like we werewithin a half-mile of the riverbank, but when I glanced back overmy shoulder, my heart sank, because those three torches were movingmuch more rapidly and headed directly for our trail. Even before Icould turn back to alert the others, I saw the leading rider drawup directly behind us, about three hundred paces away.
“We’ve got to go faster!” I did notshout, but I am certain they heard the urgency, because the pacedid pick up.
My hope for the delay as they tried tofigure out which direction the trail led was dashed by the time Iglanced once more over my shoulder, where I saw by the bouncing ofthe lights they were moving at a trot, directly for us. Ouradvantages were melting away almost like a patch of snow suddenlyexposed to sunshine; they still could not see us, but this was onlygoing to last for perhaps the next thirty heartbeats. Now that theywere closing, we caught glimpses of other riders, betrayed by thesudden gleam of the torchlight reflecting the light off the hidesof the darker horses.
“How many do you think there are,Pilus Prior?” Crassipes asked me, and I had to fight the urge tosnap at him that his eyes were seeing the same thing Iwas.
“I can’t tell,” I said instead, “butI’d guess it’s more than a dozen.”
The words were barely out of my mouth whenthere was a sharp cry, a loud one, but it was not from the pursuingBrigantes. I whirled about to dimly make out a figure writhing onthe ground, and most crucially, the sledge had stopped.
It was no man’s fault, really, just the godsdeciding to make things interesting, but putting the piecestogether later, it appeared as if Gaius Stolo, who was the firstman on the left side, stumbled slightly over some unseen obstacle.In itself, this was no catastrophe; I had stumbled during my stint,as had the others, but this time, the man behind him, QuintusGallus, stepped on the back of Stolo’s heel, causing Gallus to landawkwardly and somehow twist his knee, whereupon he collapsed to theground in agony.
I honestly do not know how, but I onlyhesitated for perhaps an eyeblink before I snarled, “Throw Galluson the sledge.” Then I turned and grabbed Crassipes by the arm,shoving him roughly towards the sledge, and for a moment, I thoughtI had compounded the problem by hurling him with enough force thathe stumbled. Thankfully, he regained his footing as I ordered,“Take Gallus’ place.” Then I called to Acisculus, “Get moving!” ToCotta, as calmly as I could, I told him to draw hisgladius. “You and I are rearguard,Cotta.”
I was facing the oncoming Brigantes, so Ionly heard the rest of the men begin moving again, with Gallusmoaning in pain.
“I hope he remembers to hold on, thestupid bastard,” I heard Cotta mutter, and despite the situation, Ilaughed.
“If he knows what’s good for him, hewill,” I replied, shifting my attention back over my shoulder asthe sledge started pulling away in the darkness before returning itto the oncoming barbarians.
“Are we really going to fight, PilusPrior?” Cotta asked, but before I could say anything, he added,“I’m with you either way, sir, to the death.”
“I know you are,” I answered, and Iwas being honest; as I mentioned, it was for more than his strengththat I had selected him, but I also had no intention of fighting ifI could avoid it. However, all I said was, “Let’s see how thingsdevelop, eh? I think these bastards will be every bit as confusedabout what to do as we are.”
Our cause was aided when, suddenly, theleading rider, who was also carrying a torch, drew up suddenlywhen, from what I could estimate, they were a bit more than ahundred paces away from Cotta and me.
“See?” I told him, trying to sound asif I had anticipated this all along. “What did I tell you? They’refucking confused.”
Before he could respond, the leading ridershouted in our direction, although I did not understand a word, butI shouted something unintelligible back, using what few curse wordsI had learned in Germania. I heard an exclamation of some sort, anda rider who had drawn up next to him, and was within the pool ofhis torchlight, thrust his arm in our direction.
“That bastard is trying to get theleader to charge us,” I said aloud, though I did not intendto.
We were still backpedaling, and the menpulling the sledge were now well more than fifty paces ahead of us;it was going to be desperately close whether we made it to theboat. And, while we could throw ourselves
