The Silver Eagle

the hammer blow that would drive terror into the hearts of the bravest soldiers. Who in the world would stand against them? Fabiola glanced back at the Roman soldiers, who had looked so brave and prepared as she had soared over their heads. Now, before the imposing host with its vast beasts, they appeared puny and insignificant. There could only be one result once battle was joined.

Overcome with grief, Fabiola did not believe that the god could be so cruel. To let her discover that Romulus might be alive and then to show her the instrument of his destruction in the same moment was more than she could bear. Her response was immediate, instinctive. Pulling her wings in tightly, she dropped her head and pointed her beak downwards, aiming straight for the lead elephant. Air whistled past Fabiola, streamlining her shape even further.

Down, down, down she dived.

Fabiola was soon close enough to see the wrinkles in its thick skin and the deeply curved bows carried by the men on its back. Perhaps she could take out an eye and send it off on a trail of death amongst its own men. The fall was immense — potentially fatal — but Fabiola did not care any longer. Anything was better than this pain. Plummeting like a black stone, with rage burning brightly in her heart, she consigned herself to oblivion.

This time, she was grabbed by both arms. Shouts filled her ears.

Fabiola could not help herself. Despite her frantic attempts, the plain covered in armed men disappeared. Crying tears of frustration and despair, she opened her eyes.

She was back in the underground chamber, which was now packed with veterans. Two were pinioning her arms while Secundus stood a couple of paces away, shaking with anger. ‘What have you done?’ he shouted. ‘We save your miserable hide and you repay us by desecrating our temple?’

Fabiola looked at the men holding her. Both their faces wore the same furious look. What had been suspicion earlier was now rightful outrage. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, her misery brimming over.

‘That’s not nearly enough,’ Secundus replied grimly. ‘You must be punished.’

His men growled in accordance.

‘And there is only one penalty.’

Chapter XII: Pacorus

Margiana, winter 53/52 BC

‘Hold!’

The shout reverberated in the confined space of the courtyard.

Surprised, Vahram paused and turned his head. Only half aware of what was going on, the haruspex followed his gaze.

Ishkan was framed in the entrance. Torches held aloft by his men illuminated the gory scene. The snow around Tarquinius was stained red. The thin, middle-aged senior centurion looked disgusted at the sight. ‘What are you doing?’ he snapped.

‘Flogging this snake for information,’ Vahram replied, furious that he had been disturbed. ‘He’s plotting against us.’

‘Did the commander order this?’ asked Ishkan.

‘Naturally,’ blustered Vahram.

‘And he said to kill the haruspex?’

‘If necessary, yes,’ growled the primus pilus.

Ishkan raised his eyebrows. ‘Where is Pacorus, then?’ He looked around. ‘I would have thought he’d watch.’

‘He’s not well enough to be outside for long,’ said Vahram icily. ‘And I am his deputy.’

‘Of course you are, sir,’ Ishkan answered, suspicion flaring in his eyes. ‘But let’s just check with him, shall we?’

Realising that his ruse would be discovered the instant that Ishkan woke Pacorus, Vahram panicked. Stepping away from Tarquinius’ limp body, he blocked the doorway to the bedchamber.

The dark-haired senior centurion frowned. He lifted a hand and immediately his followers raised their weapons.

Vahram’s trio of men looked to him for directions, but there were at least a dozen warriors with Ishkan, all of whom were armed with bows. Unless they wanted to die, there was nothing to do but see how the standoff panned out. They relaxed, keeping their hands away from their sword hilts.

Outmanoeuvred, the primus pilus scowled and stood to one side.

Leaving his warriors to watch Vahram, Ishkan opened the door. He was not gone long.

Covered by a blanket and supported by the senior centurion, a shivering Pacorus emerged into the light.

Vahram cursed under his breath. Things were getting out of control. He should have just killed the damn haruspex.

Pacorus regarded Tarquinius’ bloodied face and body with a mixture of emotions. He cared little for the haruspex’ health, but valued his abilities. Moreover, he did not like his inferiors acting without his direct authority. Anger finally dominated on the commander’s thin, grey face. ‘What have you to say about this?’ he snapped at Vahram.

The eyes flashed to Tarquinius. Although his word was worth more, Pacorus would be highly suspicious of him if the haruspex mentioned his plans.primus pilus’

Barely aware of the delicate situation, Tarquinius forced out an incoherent moan and let some bloody spit dribble from his lips.

Unsure of himself, Vahram made a snap decision. Hopefully, Tarquinius was in no state to talk. ‘I came in to see how you were, sir. Found the whoreson crouched over the fireplace muttering your name.’

Aware that he had slept through whatever Tarquinius had been doing, Pacorus sucked in a nervous breath. He had first-hand experience of the haruspex’ frightening powers. ‘Has he said why?’

‘No, sir.’ Vahram shook his head angrily. ‘Not a word.’

‘Yet you did not think to check with me?’ responded Pacorus. ‘And tried to prevent another senior centurion from bringing the matter to my attention?’

‘I didn’t want to disturb you,’ Vahram said weakly.

With a dismissive snort, the commander shuffled over. He was followed solicitously by Ishkan.

Tarquinius lifted his head to stare Pacorus in the face. Grey rings of exhaustion had formed under his dark eyes, and his broken nose had swollen beyond all recognition. The burn on his cheek was red raw and oozing clear fluid. Remarkably, in spite of his injuries, there was still an air of mystery about him.

Pacorus flinched at the haruspex’ appearance. This was the man who had saved his life, and he was not ungrateful for that. Yet there was no trust between them. ‘Well?’

Tarquinius jerked his head, indicating Pacorus should come closer.

Ishkan frowned warily but did not intervene. Tied-up, the half-dead haruspex posed no threat. Yet Vahram looked most unhappy.

‘It was his name I was saying,’ whispered Tarquinius. ‘The primus pilus immediately wanted to know why. If I had told him, he would have killed me.’

‘Looks like he was going to do that anyway,’ Pacorus answered drily.

‘Yes, sir,’ gasped the haruspex. ‘And I was just about to break when Ishkan arrived. Do not trust him.’

Pacorus looked back at Vahram, who instantly affected not to be interested. ‘Why not?’

‘He wants to lead the Forgotten Legion.’

The commander stiffened. ‘Have you proof of this?’

Tarquinius was still able to raise his eyebrows.

Pacorus tapped a finger against his teeth, thinking. It was no surprise to him that the primus pilus might want to usurp his position. But it was also an easy way for Tarquinius to sow the seeds of doubt and distrust among his captors.

The drained haruspex read his mind. ‘Where are your men?’ he asked quietly.

Alarm filled Pacorus as he scanned the courtyard, seeing none of his bodyguards. This was the most