The Silver Branch [book II] Read Online Free PDF Page B

who had had the idea about the Ninth Legion.

III
THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFFS
     
    D URING their time at the farm, the weather had been gentle, green winter weather shot through with the promise of spring, but no sooner were they on the road than winter swooped back with the snow on its wings. That meant hard travelling, but there were still two hours of daylight left when, on the second day, Justin and Flavius changed horses at Limanis and set out on the last stage. The road skirted the forest of Anderida, and they rode with their ears full of the deep-sea roaring of the wind in the branches, heads down against the stinging sleet. And when, a couple of miles farther on, the road dipped to a paved ford beside which squatted a little forest smithy, the red glow of the forge fire seemed a kind of shout of warmth and colour amid the grey moanings of the storm-lashed woods.
    Through the sleet scurry they could make out a small group of dismounted cavalry before the smithy; and Flavius said, ‘Someone’s horse has cast a shoe, by the look of things.’ And then with a low whistle, ‘Name of Thunder! It’s the Emperor himself!’
    The Emperor it was, sitting very composedly on a fallen tree-trunk beside the way, with the sleet in his beard and the eagle-feathers of his helmet crest, and sleet whitening the shoulders of his purple cloak; and a small cavalry escort standing by, holding their horses, while Nestor, his big roan stallion, slobbered at the shoulder of the smith, who held one great round hoof between his leather-aproned knees.
    The Emperor looked up as the two young men drew rein, and raised thick brows under his helmet rim. ‘Ah, Centurion Aquila and our Junior Surgeon. What brings you riding these wintry roads?’
    Flavius had already swung down from his horse, slipping his arm through the rein. ‘Hail, Caesar. We are on our way back from leave. Can we be of any service, sir?’
    ‘Thank you, no. Nestor has cast a shoe, as you see, but Goban here has the matter well in hand.’
    A stinging blast of sleet whipped their faces, making every man shiver in his cloak, and causing the horses to swerve sideways, turning their heads from the gust. And the Decurion in command of the escort said beseechingly, ‘Excellency, will you not take one of my men’s horses and ride on? The man can bring Nestor after us.’
    Carausius settled more comfortably on his tree trunk, drawing the shoulder folds of his cloak about his ears. ‘A little sleet will not shrink me,’ he said, and eyed the Decurion with distaste. ‘Possibly, however, it is not so much my health that concerns you as that of your men—or possibly even yourself.’ And ignoring the poor man’s stuttering denial of the charge, turned his gaze back under a cocked eyebrow to the two cousins. ‘Are you two due in Rutupiae tonight?’
    ‘No, Caesar,’ Flavius said. ‘We allowed an extra day, but we have not needed it.’
    ‘Ah, an extra day for a winter journey, that is always a wise precaution. And this is certainly the most wintry of winter journeys.’ He seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded as though in full agreement with himself. ‘Surely it would be a cruel thing to drag ten men on a needless ten mile ride in such weather as this … Decurion, you may remount and take your men back to Limanis. I shall remain quietly here until Nestor is re-shod, and then ride on with these two of my Rutupiae officers. They will be all the escort that I shall need.’
    Justin, who had dismounted also by this time, and stood holding his horse on the fringe of the group, cast a somewhat startled glance at Flavius, who was staring straight before him as though he were on parade. The Decurion stiffened. ‘You—you are dismissing your escort, Caesar?’
    ‘I am dismissing my escort,’ agreed Carausius.
    The Decurion hesitated an instant, swallowing. ‘But Excellency—’
    ‘I bid you farewell, Decurion,’ said Carausius. His tone was gentle, but the Decurion