Chapter 44

The repetitive thud of hooves against mud was the only sound that passed between Lazarus and Marcia as they made their way back to the fort, each of them caught up in their own thoughts.

The way back seemed to take longer than when they had left, which was remarkable since they were now travelling at nearly twice the speed, a constant strip of green flashing past them.

Lazarus was trying to focus on remaining in the saddle as he pushed his horse as fast as he dared, but it did not stop his mind from conjuring up the images of his parents.

Varinius had said that they had been defeated but Lazarus was not trying to think of that. He had no reason to believe any words that fell from Varinius's traitorous lips and yet he still discovered that he doubted himself.

When they had parted ways, the Roman army had outnumbered them by so great a number that a small part of Lazarus was glad – not happy, but relieved – that he was leaving.

He hated himself for thinking it. He hated that he had left so willingly but his parents' confidence and their remarkable past made him defiant that they would survive this.

They had survived everything else after all.

And if they survived then his presence was not needed, he was of much more use by protecting his brother and sister.

As the forest around them began to thin and they broke out into a small clearing, Lazarus and Marcia saw their first glimpse of the battle below.

Perched on the edge of a small cliff before the path that would lead them back to the fort, Lazarus paused and stared out over the battleground.

The beast beneath him gave a snort of relief as they stopped.

Marcia directed her horse until she too could see over the edge and she felt the blood drain from her face.

Lazarus could not believe it, Varinius was right.

In truth, Argyle's army had not yet been defeated. Small clusters of warriors and Romans were still battling but the majority of colour that Lazarus saw was the red from the roman uniforms, not the dark colours of the rebellion.

"We need to get down there," Lazarus jumped from his horse and took hold of his reins.

He wanted more than anything to sprint down the path but he was forced to a slow walk as he guided his horse behind him.

The path was narrow and littered with rocks and debris as it zigzagged down the side of the cliff.

Marcia followed him a few moments late.

As they made their way down the cliff their eyes would turn to look upon the battlefield every few seconds as if the tables would suddenly turn in that time and, instead of the rebellion, it would be the Romans that were being defeated.

However, the scene beneath them remained the same all the way down to the bottom where the sound of war started to drift towards them on the wind.

Lazarus remarked to himself about how different to the arena it sounded. Here there were no cheers from adorning crowds, there were only screams.

In the arena swords and shields seemed to clash with a certain clarity that resonated out towards the highest level in the stands.

But on the battlefield it felt to Lazarus as if it was just one huge gigantic rumble that was alive with a mix of swords, shields, axes, spears.

As they hoisted themselves back into their saddles and sped towards the battling armies a few hundred feet away, Lazarus could feel that same gigantic rumble seem to vibrate through his body, rattling his bones and jarring his jaw.

It was terrifying. It was invigorating.

And, as if it had been within an arm's reach all along, they reached the top of the hill and descended the other side, finally crashing into the battle.

*

Blocking an attack from behind, Krista lifted her leg and planted her boot firmly against the Roman's chest plate.

Kicking him back into the group of soldiers behind him, Krista spun and faced her other attacked.

With sweat beading on her eyelashes, Krista pushed his sword away with her own before she reached out her forearm and slammed her fist into the side of his jaw, knocking him to the side.

The group behind her had now recovered and were running towards her position with menace.

Taking a deep breath, Krista pushed off the ground and flipped herself into the air over their heads.

Performing a small arc of their heads, Krista landed on her feet behind them and slashed her blade across all of their backs as they failed to turn in time.

She had no time to watch their bodies collapse to the floor however before she had to raise her sword once again to cover the side of her face.

Krista looked out the corner of her eye as she watched the man' sword slam into her own.

Lazily, she let his sword slip off of her own as she turned to face him directly, his shaven head his most prominent feature after his eyes.

A light cerulean blue, they held her there almost mesmerised as a small smile played on his lips when two men, one on either side, ran towards her at full speed.

Krista saw them from the corner of her eyes.

Waiting until they were close enough, Krista bent at the waist to her side, as if she was stretching her arm out down the side of her leg, when she propelled herself into the air suddenly, performing a cart wheel.

The tips of her boots connected with the first man's chin, knocking him to the ground, as her hair ran along the floor.

As she continued to turn, her boots then hit the other man on the top of his head, pushing him to the ground unconscious before her body had righted itself and she landed once more on her feet.

Krista ignored the flare of pain that ran through her hips. She had not performed that particular move in a few years.

The blue-eyed man was not glaring at her but Krista was not finished as the first man had returned to his feet.

Krista reached out and gripped his wrist, holding his sword to the side, before she stepped forward and rammed her forehead against his own.

The man crumpled to the ground.

Krista stepped back and now the man's eyes had completely narrowed until he was looking at her through, what seemed like small slits.

He took a step towards her.

Krista gripped her sword tighter, her heart pumping in her chest.

He was three steps away . . . two . . . one-

"-Halt!"

The slits in his eyes had now widened in surprise and anger, his sword poised above her head, her own sword raised too, when the unmistakeable voice of his commander reached his ears.

Krista did not tear her eyes from his.

She could tell by the way his eyes seemed to crease in the corners that he was debating whether or not to continue with his attack.

However he took too long to decide and Octavia broke through the crowd, calling to him once again.

"I said, halt!"

The man stepped back until he was behind Octavia and lowered his sword.

Krista lowered her sword as she turned and looked at Octavia.

Hadrian was by her side as well as half a dozen personal guard, they formed a small circle around the three of them.

Krista looked back to Octavia and saw the small amount of dried blood running from her eyebrow and smiled.

Octavia glared, "Surrender now Krista and maybe we shall not kill all of you."

"What, worried we might beat you?"

Octavia laughed, "Will you surrender to me?"

Krista glared at Octavia, "Never. I shall never surrender to Rome."

Octavia tilted her head, "Never? Not even for your friends."

"My friends-" Krista started to speak when someone barrelled into the guard behind her.

Krista looked over her shoulder to see Artorius battling with the guard, his sword slicing open the skin on the back of the man's arm and leg.

"Stand down," Octavia sighed to her guard, as if he was ruining her monologue.

"Krista," Artorius was deeply annoyed that Octavia had called off the fight but he could not kill a man who would not fight him back so he went to Krista's side with the hope that another fight would ensue soon, "Krista?"

"How good of you to come to me," Octavia thanked him, "I had men looking for you, but no matter."

Artorius turned and faced down Octavia, "What is happening?"

"I imploring your wife see sense and surrender," Octavia looked at Artorius.

"I've been married to her for nearly twenty years," Artorius informed them, "if I couldn't do it then you don't have a chance in Tartarus."

Krista smiled at Artorius.

The smile was short lived as Octavia played her hand, "If you cannot surrender for yourself, maybe you would surrender for him."

Octavia smiled as she saw the confusion playing across Krista's face when the guards parted to allow a further four guards to enter.

Each of them were holding onto a length of rope which had been tied around a person like an animal-

"-Leonidas!" Artorius shouted as he saw the Gaul be dragged into the group.

His arms were bound to his sides and rope had been wound around his chest but Artorius had just taken a step to help him when Octavia raised her hand to stop him.

"One moment," Octavia smiled, holding Artorius's gaze, as two of the Commander's personal guard stepped forward and clamped their hands around Artorius's wrists.

"Hey!" Artorius shouted.

Planting his boot firmly atop one of the men's toes, Artorius lifted his arm and elbowed the same man in the nose.

He stumbled back, allowing Artorius to turn and land a punch into the other's jaw. Artorius had just tried to swap his sword into his other hand when more guards descended upon them.

Krista was thrown to the side as Artorius was captured, his sword thrown to the side.

Artorius struggled for a few moments when a guard landed a swift punch into his gut.

Krista took a step towards to Octavia.

Her gaze must have looked murderous since Hadrian stepped forward to protect his Commander.

"Move out of my way," Krista growled.

"But I haven't finished yet," Octavia told Krista.

Krista looked at Octavia with wide eyes; what else was there?