Chapter 9

The sea rocked beneath them, testing the ship as they crossed the open waters despite the shining sky.

The convoy from Rome was heading for Gallia. Consisting of five ships, they would make port in the nearest roman town before they continued on by foot to Alesia.

They had been sea-bound for nearly two days, allowing Octavia time to re-run her plan through her mind, to find the weaknesses and draw them out like poison from a wound.

But even she needed respite and, for the first time that day, Octavia walked from her cabin onto the deck and marvelled at the isolation.

In the middle of nowhere, with her ship leading point, and no coasts on the horizon Octavia felt, for the first time, at the mercy of another.

She was at the mercy of the sea, at the mercy of Neptune, and Octavia hated it.

She had been at the mercy of too many people in her short life to ever feel comfortable with the sense of powerlessness, the sense of not being in control.

Octavia had, in some way or another, always had control over something in her life. Something to keep her mind steady in the chaos that was life.

For the short time that Octavia was not in control of the situation she would feel like the sea itself, churning and roaring in a mindless and pointless rhythm.

It was a feeling she would not forget.

“Commander,” A voice spoke from behind her and Octavia glance out of the corner of her eye to see that it was Hadrian.

“You appear consumed in thought,” Hadrian joined her besides the railing, looking over the edge at the sea, “Anything I may assist with?”

Octavia did not need to look at Hadrian to know that those brown eyes were watching her with loyalty, his plain face did not invoke the passions of women but it was a comfort sight to see on the battlefield.

Octavia knew that if she saw that face she would always have an ally.

But that did not make him a friend and only a friend would understand her situation.

“We will defeat the uprising,” Hadrian tried to soothe her thoughts, “And Rome shall be free.”

Octavia nodded as she turned to look at where the sun was rising, “Krista will have left Greece by now. She shall be in Gaul within three days.”

“Then we have our deadline,” Hadrian smiled, “Three days to reach Alesia and defeat the usurpers.”

“By the end, Rome will be an unconquerable,” Octavia stood tall, honouring the vision her father had always dreamt of, her eyes looking out across the sea towards her future.

* * *

Taking a small breath, Lazarus awoke from his sleep to find his eyelids heavy, refusing to open.

Rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, Lazarus finally managed to open a single eye and peer out at his room.

The first thing he registered, through the haze of his tired mind, was the sunlight streaming through his window.

He calculated that it had to be nearly midday.

This horror jolted his other eye to open as he rushed to feet. He had been too tired the night before to undress for bed, so as he left his room he was already prepared.

But what he was not prepared for was the silence. Almost every day of his life he had woken up to some sort of noise in his ears, whether it was Zeph crying, Cassia laughing or his parents talking, there had always been noise.

But no longer, the hut stood silent except for the eerie jingling of the bell by the front door.

Fear and concern began to rise in his chest when he turned a corner into the main room and found Marcia.

Perched on the end of the chair, she was leant over and fastening her boots. Two bags were waiting beside her.

“Marcia?” Lazarus frowned, rubbing his eyes one last time just in case he was still dreaming.

“You’re awake, finally,” Marcia stood and threw one of the bags at him.

Lazarus managed to catch the bag before it barrelled into his chest, a thing he was grateful for when he felt how heavy the bag was.

He did not wonder as to what was inside when Marcia placed his sword in his other hand.

“We need to leave.” Marcia strode past him towards the door.

“Where are the others? Where are my parents?” Lazarus looked around but saw only signs of life staring back at him; a half empty bowl of food, a few toys belonging to his brother strewn across the floor.

The image haunted him.

“They left,” Marcia hissed under her breath, “And if we are to catch up then we must leave. We have wasted too much time already.”

Lazarus heard the door open and turned to see Marcia stepping through, leaving him in the cold hut that was once filled with love and light.

“Marcia, wait!” Lazarus hurried after her, “What do you mean, they left?”

Marcia let out an annoyed sigh as she turned, Lazarus almost hitting into her, “How have you survived this long?”

Lazarus frowned.

Marcia took a deep breath, “That drink we had last night? It was drugged with some sort of sleeping potion or herb, maybe Kava or-”

Lazarus felt his heart drop into his stomach, “-They’re heading for Gallia.”

Marcia looked at Lazarus and felt a pang of sorrow for him. Marcia had, in some way, been expecting for their parents to tell them they could not go, but to be drugged was something she could not foresee.

Lazarus, however, had not been expecting it and, as a result, it hurt him worse.

As Marcia was trying to think of something to say, the urgency leaving the situation for a few seconds, she spotted an older woman walking towards them.

“Lazarus,” Marcia spoke his name in a soft warning as she turned to face the woman, her fingers reaching down slowly to wrap around the sheath of her sword.

“Fauna?” Lazarus frowned when he saw the woman, a few years his mother’s senior.

“Ahh, you’re awake, Lazarus,” Fauna approached with a smile, her hair tied back with a small ribbon, “Your mother asked if I could check on you and your friend. She said you were not feeling too well.”

Lazarus chuckled at his mother’s ingenuity; he was not feeling too well because she had drugged him.

And yet she still managed to check up on him. Lazarus should feel thankful to have such loving parents but they were also deceitful.

“Where are Cassia and Zeph?” Lazarus asked, ashamed that he only now thought of his siblings.

“Oh, they’re fine,” Fauna waved off his concern, “They are staying with us for a while until your parents return from their trip.”

Lazarus did not dare to think that they may not return.

“Their trip?” Marcia asked, drawing Fauna’s attention to her.

Fauna seemed shocked that she was there, as if she saw only Lazarus, “Oh, yes, she bought six horses from my husband last evening.”

Lazarus and Marcia looked at each other; if their parents were on horseback, they may already be too far ahead for them to catch up.

“Gratitude Fauna,” Lazarus swung the satchel onto his shoulder and tied the sword belt around his hips, “Could you tell Cassia and Zeph to behave and that we shall be home shortly?”

“Of course, Lazarus, Cassia and Zeph may stay as long as they wish to, but may I ask where you are going?” Fauna looked at their appearances and the swords in their grasp, “Your mother remained silent on the topic.”

“Yes, she would have done,” Lazarus smiled softly as he nudged Marcia to start moving.

Marcia shot him a look before she began to walk towards the forest.

“Do not forget to tell Cassia and Zeph!” Lazarus called back to their old friend.

“I won’t forget!” Fauna smiled, waving them off on their journeys, unaware of where they were heading and forgetting that Lazarus had not answered her question.

* * *

That night they did not rest.

They knew that their parents would not rest and, for that reason, neither did they.

The thick woods were difficult during the day but during the night, when the canopy above them shielded the moonlight from their path, it was treacherous.

Loose weeds, low hanging branches and thorns all rose to deter them from their path.

At one point, Lazarus tripped over a thick log which had been left on the ground and rolled down a small incline, covering him in dirt and leaves.

Marcia had followed, falling over a rock, and wrapping herself in a bush of thorns.

As Lazarus pulled a thorn from the back of her hand, he looked around them but could barely see two feet in front of him.

He did not know whether they were still heading in the right direction or not.

Marcia sighed, “We are slowing down. We cannot afford to lose pace.”

Lazarus agreed, “Shall we risk the road?”

Both of them feared the road, riddled with checkpoints and the possibility of Romans it was a no-go area but they could not continue upon this path, if they did so they might just die before they left Greece.

Marcia nodded her head, “We take the road, but only until first light, at which point we take the forest again.”

“Let’s get going,” Lazarus took off ahead of her, it took nearly an hour for them to find their way back to the original path they had begun and then a further hour before they came across the road.

For the first time since the light had faded, Lazarus could see more than a few feet in front of him.

The road was even and seemed as if he were walking upon velvet compared with the treachery forest floor.

They made quick progress down the road, even stopping to remove food from their bags along the way, when they paused for a drink and found they heard voices up ahead.

Looking towards the horizon, the sun was still nearly a few minutes from rising but they could not afford to be caught.

“Go,” Lazarus whispered urgently as he tied up his bag and they quickly hurried back up the small incline and into the forest.

“Keep going,” Lazarus told her, which Marcia did not appreciate, until they found a thick bush and quickly dived behind when the voices grew louder.

Grasping their breath, Lazarus pulled a branch back and peered through the gap to see, less than ten metres away, stood a Roman patrol.

Examining where they had once stood, a roman soldier had paused and reached down to pick something up off the ground.

Sharing a concerned look, Marcia gasped inwardly when she saw what it was the soldier had found.

It was her necklace.

Her hand shot up to her neck where the thick thread should have rested but instead found an empty spot.

It must have come loose when she fell.

Marcia panicked; she needed to get that necklace back.