Chapter 28

Her body slammed into the ground, her body half-submerged in a bath of mud and water.

"Hey!" Marcia shouted, throwing herself against the bars as the door to her cage was locked shut.

As the guards turned and marched away, Marcia collapsed to the ground and rested her head against the wooden bars, gratefully allowed to close her eyes.

Her body was overcome with exhaustion as her muscles ached and her upper arm burned, it felt as if her flesh was still melting from the heat that radiated from her newest brand.

Marcia could only look at the mark on her flesh for a second before her stomach churned and her throat retched.

She not only felt sick and defeated, but ashamed.

Marcia could not let her parents see it. They would be distraught if they learnt that the child they had risen in freedom, and who continue to fight for her freedom, had been branded like a slave.

Marcia's hatred for Octavia threatened to engulf her as she began to scratch at the wound, hoping to tear it off her flesh but she only caused it to bleed further, a cry of pain escaping her lips.

Her cry woke the others.

"Marcia? Marcia!" Petra reached through the bars of her cage, trying to reach her friend in captivity.

Marcia would not allow herself to be touched but she turned to her fellow prisoners and promised them freedom.

Petra frowned, "What do you mean?"

Marcia looked upon their small gathering of at least a dozen slaves. Petra said they had been captured trying to reach the fort.

"My friend is coming to rescue me," Marcia reassured them, "Once he does, I shall get you out of there."

Petra translated for her sister, Philyra, whose face erupted with happiness.

Marcia sat back and leant her forehead against the wooden bars, her eyes closing in much needed rest.

*

As night fell on the second day, Lazarus knew he would not get a better opportunity.

He had watched Marcia being returned to her cage and knew now was the time to strike. Returning from the other side of camp he had used his mother's plan of distraction to its maximum.

A single guard now watched over the sleeping prisoners.

Lazarus caught sight of Marcia, the torch in the guard's hand flickering across her face.

Striding up to the guard, he commented to Lazarus about the fire on the other side of the camp near the food supply.

"What started that then?" He asked.

Lazarus stopped beside him and shrugged, "One of Krista's men I think,"

The guard cursed, "Shouldn't you be over there?"

Lazarus turned and smiled at him, "Most probably."

The guard did not understand, his mouth opening to give Lazarus orders, when Lazarus swiftly landed a firm punch into the man's jaw.

The guard's head was knocked to the side but he kept his balance until Lazarus hooked his boot around the man's ankle and pulled it out from beneath him.

The Roman crashed into the cages on his way down, waking up its occupants.

Marcia jolted awake from the sudden noise to see a roman guard lying across the front of her cage before a boot was driven down into his face, knocking him unconscious and breaking his nose.

Looking up at the guard's attacker, Marcia let out a breath of relief when she saw who it was.

"Were you having a nice sleep?" Lazarus smiled.

Marcia shook her head but she couldn't stop the smile from tugging at her lips, "Open the cage."

"Here," Lazarus slipped a dagger through the gap, "Cut the ropes. I'll get the keys."

Marcia held onto the dagger tight as she shuffled over to the corner and sliced through the straps that held the cages locked.

The cages were put together quickly with wooden planks and a few lengths of rope.

As she cut through the last piece of rope, Marcia shifted back and kicked out the left –facing side of her cage.

The noise of wood splintering was drowned out by the crackling of a large fire and the shouting of a roman army as they raced to bring it to heel.

Marcia got to her feet and stared into the distance at the large fire, almost ten feet tall and burning brightly in the night sky.

"Was that you?" Marcia looked at Lazarus with surprise.

Lazarus chuckled as he found the right key and slipped it into the irons that bound her wrists, "We needed a distraction."

Marcia looked around her and saw that it had worked. They were surprisingly alone.

"Good," Marcia thought, "Because we're bringing the others with us."

Lazarus paused and stared at her, "What?"

"Just as far as the forest," Marcia took the key from his grasp and handed it to a girl through the bars, telling them to unchain themselves as Marcia got to work on the rope.

Lazarus stared down at the one guard he had knocked unconscious, hoping to use his uniform on Marcia. He couldn't go and grab another twelve without them being caught.

Lazarus knelt and began to strip the guard of his uniform, "Fine, but once we reach the forest, they're on their own Marcia."

Marcia nodded before she looked at Petra and told her to keep quiet. She would get them out of there.

"Okay, put that on," Lazarus dropped a pile of clothes and armour into Marcia's lap, "I'll carry on with this."

Marcia moved out of the way and stared at the clothes in her arms before looking at the man they came from.

Her nose crinkled as she smelt his poor hygiene in the clothes.

Already half covered in mud and blood, Marcia knew she could not be picky as she pulled the crimson tunic on over her head, wincing when her arms protested.

Lazarus let out a sigh as he regarded the dagger annoyingly, "This is taking too long."

The prisoners had already unchained themselves but there were too many ropes. Lazarus had a better idea.

"Everybody move into the corner," Lazarus instructed them as he got to his feet and tossed Marcia the dagger.

She caught it and watched him with confusion.

Lazarus withdrew his sword and proceeded to make a couple of deafening strikes against the thick wood.

The first strike splintered the wood, the second cracked it and the third finally broke it.

Lazarus continued this for a few more moments, nearly at the end, when a guard came running around the corner.

He stopped when he saw them.

"Hey!" He protested, "What are you doing?"

Marcia didn't blink as she gripped the dagger by the blade, and hurled it through the short space between them.

The dagger flipped in the air a few times before the dagger imbedded itself in his upper chest, a few inches above the cut of his armour.

He kept screaming as he collapsed to the ground but his cries were drowned out by the masses of Roman soldiers calling for water to put out the fire.

"I see your aim wasn't harmed," Lazarus grunted as he cut through the last plank of wood and kicked the offending materials aside.

Petra and Philyra emerged from the cage in tears, hugging each other close.

Marcia removed the dagger from his chest, and the sword from his hand, before she turned to Lazarus and remarked sadly, "I was aiming for his throat."

They looked at each other for a few moments before their attentions were drawn towards the fire that was slowly creeping throughout the camp.

It had had a greater effect than Lazarus could have hoped for.

"What's next?" A man asked in a deep Gaullist accent, his lower face covered by a thick growth of beard.

Lazarus nodded, "We make for the western gate. It's closest to the forest."

No one needed prompting as Lazarus led the group through the numerous tents and paths of the Roman camp, all empty as everybody aided in the effort to bring down the fire that ravaged their food supply.

* * *

"Krista! Krista, you have to see this!" Artorius called from above the wall.

Krista ran up the steps as fast as she could. Frieda and Leonidas were close behind her.

"There!" Dareios cheered, pointing to the far corner of the Roman camp where a fire had erupted and continued to spread.

Krista gasped softly as she looked to Artorius, "Lazarus?"

Artorius nodded, "I would think so. He's making his move."

Krista's hand slipped down Artorius's arm and entwined her fingers with his, her fears were his own as they watched from afar.

Silence fell upon them as they thought about their children and how they were currently in a Roman camp, each of them wondering what they were doing at that precise moment.

Were they running to freedom right now? Were they crying?

Krista had tried to remain idly by, and she had done so for a few days now, but no longer.

"Dareios?"

"Yes, Krista?"

"Get a group together. We're going out there." Krista tightened her grip on Artorius's hand.

"Yes," Frieda nodded.

"We do not know where they are," Dareios whispered, not wishing to dispute her but wondering if it would not be better to remain in the fort.

"The fire is to the eastern border," Krista explained, "I think we can assume that Lazarus has chosen the western side to escape through."

Leonidas chimed in his support, "Lazarus and I used the western forest to get close to the Roman camp. He'll use the same path to come back, I am sure of it."

Krista nodded, "We will not go to the Roman camp. We shall just be there to meet them."

Frieda was already down the steps and looking for Diomed.

Artorius turned to Krista, "Let's get our son back."