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their bundles of sharpened stakes together with a strip of leather, they moved
back down to where they could keep an eye on the approaching party.
The leader of the group, after crossing the clearing, held up his hand to
signal a halt. He wore a bell-shaped iron helmet with the horns of a goat
protruding out of it at angles. A big man and tough, he hadn t survived this
long by not having an instinct for danger. Something about the pass bothered
him.
Besides, it would be warmer here on the lowlands in shelter of some
rocks. They could build their campfires and feed with a degree more
comfort here than in those high passes where the wind ripped and tore at every
piece of exposed skin. Casca nodded, pleased with himself for correctly
deducing the barbarian leader s course of action. They would camp outside the
pass.
Glam and the girl followed him to the sheltered cleft in the rock wall. There
they huddled together to wait and rest and wait for the dark.
The enveloping darkness would be their ally this night that and the sharpened
stakes. They slept, the girl dreaming of dark thoughts of revenge while Glam
muttered in his sleep for more beer and meat, making smacking, sucking
noises. Casca stayed awake, eyes half open, letting his body relax. Taking in
one deep breath and then letting it out slowly, he eased the tension.
He and Glam had come a long way since they had first met on the banks of the
Rhine, a long way from that river to where they were now, near the borders of
Pannonia. How far they would go together was yet to be seen. But so far Glam
had been as good as his word. He had told the smaller Roman that he would show
him all this land had to offer even to the steppes of Scythia. There the Alani
tribes were slowly being pushed back by gnomish invaders from the east, who
never removed themselves from their horses backs unless it was to take a
crap.
These tribes were called by the rest of the western world the Huns. Glam had
met them before when working as bodyguard to one of the Alani kings. He swore
they even made love on horseback. When they walked they looked like trolls,
with their legs twisted and undersized from so many years in the saddle. On
horseback, they were ... unbeatable. On the ground they were helpless in the
way a crippled wolf was. You could kill them easily as long as you kept out of
the way of the snapping jaws.
These Huns were the vanguard of a great migration that had begun a hundred
years before when a great king of Han defeated them and drove them from their
trivial lands to wander. And in the wandering, they had gained new
strength as they followed the grass. When they met a new tribe,
they either destroyed it or took it in with them to swell what was called the
Horde...
It was not uncommon anymore to find men from a dozen races riding under the
horse and yak-tailed standards of the Khans. They would even take the
name of Hun for themselves and emulate their dwarfed masters in every
act of cruelty known. Glam swore that one day they would come out of the east
by the tens of thousands, and when that day came, there would be enough
bloodshed to drown even the Seven Hills of Rome.
When there were still about three hours to dawn, Casca rose and stretched out
his legs and arms, breathing in deeply the crisp air of the highlands. He
shook his head to clear it of the half-dreams and mist. Speaking softly, he
woke Glam and the girl. It occurred to him that he had never asked her name.
Glam and the girl each woke in their own manner. Glam, grumbling about food,
walked to the edge of the cleft and urinated. The girl gathered their
bundles of stakes together and stood ready to leave. Her movements
were quick and eager. The woman wanted blood and, as Casca well knew, a female
was far more dangerous when she had the upper hand than any man was. He
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touched the thin scar running from his left eye to the corner of his
mouth. Indeed, it was best to always keep one eye on a
woman especially if you thought you had done something to piss her off ...
Chapter Three
The three moved together back down the darkened gorge like a cat on a hunt,
quick and intent. Glam, for all his size, was as surefooted as a mountain
goat. And the girl had been born to these parts. Casca was the one who
stumbled a couple of times; he swore under his breath each time, until the
girl told him to shush. Chastened, he obeyed. Whoever got this one for a wife
was in for a rough time. He grinned at the thought that maybe the worst
punishment possible for the man who raped her might have been to make him
marry her in accordance with the laws of the tribes. That would really have
taught him a lesson. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]