Chapter 47

"Get some more wood," Lazarus shouted to anyone that would listen as he pulled a passing man over to the gate, "We need to barricade it up."

"It's not going to stop them," someone cried in despair from behind him.

Lazarus turned to see a young boy, barely older than fourteen, sat on the floor rocking back and forth with blood staining his face, "Nothing will stop them. They're- They're going to kill all of us!"

Lazarus saw people stopping what they were doing to look at him.

"Hey!" He walked across and pulled the boy to his feet but it did not stop his muttering.

"They're going to kill all of us," His eyes were wide and shining with tears, there were streaks down his cheeks where they had run through the blood on his face.

"Hey!" Lazarus shook him and the boy turned his eyes to look at Lazarus as if he had only just realised he was there.

Lazarus paused for a moment when he saw the terror in them and he loosened his grip, "You're not going to die, now go and help the wounded into the hospice."

"But-"

"But nothing," Lazarus growled, "Now go and help!" He pushed him towards the hospice.

As he watched him stumble towards the hospice, Lazarus saw Marcia hurrying over to him. She was carrying a large bucket of water with bandages draped over her arm.

She saw the people barricading the gate behind him, "Is this everyone?"

She looked around at the handful of people that had returned. There could be no more than fifty and nearly all of them were moaning in pain as they sat on the ground, cradling broken arms and bloodied heads.

Lazarus nodded as he turned to Marcia as a wave of nausea hit him, "I do not know what to do."

"What do you mean?" Marcia frowned.

"My mother- she's the leader. Your parents are leaders. They're the ones that always know what to do but I'm- I'm just me. I've never been in a war before." Lazarus's breathing trembled as he thought about the huge weight that had descended upon his shoulders.

Was this how his parents felt all the time?

"Me neither," Marcia reminded him, "But people are looking to us now, you in particular."

"Yes, but I don't know what to do. What can I give them?" Lazarus looked around and saw the way people were looking at him from the corner of their eyes in dubious belief.

Others abandoned civility altogether and just stared at him outright. Lazarus felt as if he was on trial.

"We give them the same thing our parents always did."

Lazarus arched his eyebrows.

"Hope," Marcia clarified with a huff.

Lazarus wasn't sure he had any hope left for himself let alone everyone else.

He looked back at the gate, "Have you- Have you seen . . ."

Marcia shook her head, "No. But don't worry," she hastened to add, "I'm sure they are fine. If they heard the horn, they'll be making their way back. They'll know that we're here."

Lazarus turned to her, "You don't believe that, do you?"

Marcia turned to walk away, "I- I have to take this to the men."

"Marcia," Lazarus reached out suddenly and gripped her arm, forcing her to look at him. He wasn't sure why but he needed to know.

Lazarus's words died on his lips however when someone shouted their names from above them.

Looking up at the battlement, the red-headed man was leaning over the edge and waving them up with his axe.

Marcia placed the bucket and bandages at the foot of a woman and they hurried up the steps, avoiding the wounded that sat there.

"What is it?" Lazarus and Marcia hurried over.

The red-haired man pointed to the middle of the battlefield where, in the centre of a mass of Roman soldiers, a large clearing had been created.

"Somethings happenin' down 'here," He muttered.

Lazarus and Marcia watched as two figures walked into the centre of the clearing and Lazarus's stomach felt as if it had been filled with stones.

"Is that . . ." Marcia began to speak.

The red-haired man answered her unfinished question as his voice, filled with pride and awe, shouted "Krista!"

* * *

Krista had been stood with her eyes closed, concentrating.

She was hoping that when she opened her eyes she would find herself back home in Greece and that all of this had just been one long dream.

As the sun began to lower towards the horizon, the warmth seemed to have been snatched from her very bones leaving her feeling hollow and numb.

The cold wind bit at her exposed flesh, drying the sweat on her skin.

Krista.

Artorius? Is that you?

Krista's heart gave a small leap as she heard someone calling her name through the darkness but soon the background noise of heavy footsteps and talking soldiers filled her ears.

"Krista,"

Still hoping, Krista slowly opened her eyes and saw a field of green before her.

Yes, she was back home. This was their field-

Krista's smile died on her lips before it had even appeared because as her eyes cleared and she looked closer, she could see bodies strewn across the floor as far as her eyes could see.

Reality came crashing back into her and she slowly turned her head to the right.

She did not need to look before she found the bodies of her family, still piled on top of each other a few feet away.

"Krista," Leonidas called her name softly, his voice sounding as dead and numb as she felt.

Krista snapped her head away; she could no longer look at the friends she had failed. Her only hope now was that she would see Artorius again soon.

"It's time," Leonidas swallowed with difficulty.

Krista looked to her right and froze at what she saw there.

For a moment, she was transported twenty years into the past.

She was no longer in Gallia but in Rome.

The mud beneath her feet was actually sand and the sun was high above her head, causing sweat to trickle down her spine.

The crowds were cheering her name as she heard the gates clunk open and she walked into the arena, her boots crunching noisily upon the sand-

Krista blinked and she was back upon the battlefield and twenty years older.

There were no crowds but for the Roman army that surrounded them, the sand had turned back to mud and the sun had moved a fair proportion to the side.

The sky above her was now a mix of orange and red, marking the blood that had been spilt that day; but there was still more blood that had yet to be spilt.

A small clearing in the shape of an oval, about ten feet in width and fifteen feet in length, had been created by Roman guards standing shoulder to shoulder with shields raised.

Octavia was stood at the other end of the oval, unclipping the cloak from her shoulders as Hadrian helped to remove her armour.

Krista looked down at Artorius's sword in her hand. She still could not grasp the idea that he no longer needed it.

"She's young but eager," Leonidas told Krista in nervousness, "She wants to this to be over quickly, we can use that against her."

Krista looked at him.

"Sorry." Leonidas muttered.

"I do not need help with Octavia-" Krista didn't take her eyes off of him.

"I know, I know," Leonidas held up his hands.

"-All I need to know is, are you with me?" Krista heard the pleading tone in her voice, and she didn't like it.

Leonidas looked up at her in shock, his eyes searching hers for a moment.

"Always," Leonidas reached out and pulled her against him in a tight hug.

Krista wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tightly, not realising how much she had needed to feel his warmth. His arms enclosed her in a cocoon until it felt as if nothing could harm her.

Octavia called her name.

Leonidas pulled back, too early as far as Krista was concerned, and gripped her shoulders as he cupped her cheek tenderly.

"We're all with you, Krista," Leonidas smiled softly, and Krista knew that he was speaking on behalf of their dead friends.

Krista smiled at him, thanking him silently.

"Now," Leonidas pulled her up straight, "Show them who you truly are."

Krista reached up and squeezed his hand before she took a deep breath and turned towards the arena-like area that had been set up.

As she walked forward, the guards stepped aside and created a small gap for her to step through.

As she did so a circular shield was thrust into her arms. Gripping the shield correctly, Krista looked back at Leonidas. His face was filled with confidence for her.

When she was far enough inside, the guards moved back into line, blocking Leonidas from view.

Looking around her, Krista felt as if she had been cut off from the rest of the world, despite the hundreds of bodies and soldiers around her.

Over their heads, Krista could just glimpse the stronghold in the distance.

Lazarus and Marcia.

Their names seeped into her mind and like a distant thought and it breathed warmth into her veins.

Krista paused in the centre as Octavia approached from the other side. Her golden armour had been removed until she was dressed in only a loose brown leather dress.

The bottom of the dress was styled like pteruges, coming to a rest just above her knees.

She was holding a similar shield in one hand and a gladius in the other.

They both stood there for a few minutes, though it could have been months, just looking at each other.

Krista loosened her grip on the sword when she found that she had been clamping her fingers around the hilt.

She blinked and Octavia attacked.