The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5 (50 page)

The knife edge scraped his skull. He threw an elbow up and caught the warrior on the wrist. As the blade clattered into the roof, Indavara drove up off his ankles and hacked two-handed into the warrior’s side. The sword cut deep – like an axe into a tree. He only just kept hold of the blade as his victim groaned and fell.

The bald man took his turn. Calmly holding a lantern with one hand, he flicked his sword at Indavara’s face, forcing him back against the wall.

With a bestial cry, the first knife-man rejoined the fray. Hair hanging over his face, he swung his blade in a wide arc. Indavara parried, then shuffled right again to stop the bald man cutting him off. He sensed movement to his left, a third man closing in. Two he could just about handle. Three?

Something flew out of the darkness and struck the bald man on the face. Shocked but apparently unharmed, he looked down at the ground. Lying on the tunnel floor was a hunk of bread.

‘Indavara, there’s a way out!’

He didn’t need a second invitation and soon found himself running again beside Corbulo. ‘Where?’

‘We just have to keep going. This is a feeder channel, I think it runs down into the main aqueduct – remember how close to the baths we are.’

‘Here?’ Indavara slowed as they passed an intersecting tunnel of similar dimensions.

‘No, straight on.’

Indavara snatched a look over his shoulder. Their pursuers were already on the move again. When he turned back he realised that the floor underfoot was now smooth and that they were splashing through several inches of water.

‘Careful,’ said Corbulo. ‘It suddenly gets very steep up—’

He fell first, fractionally ahead of Indavara. The stolen lantern smashed, leaving them in utter darkness once again.

Indavara came down on his backside. His right arm hit a moment later, knocking the sword out of his hand. He slid down the slope, stone scraping his skin. Just as he spied a little light up ahead his legs plunged into cold water. Then it was up to his chest, then his head went under.

The shock of it froze him.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t tell himself what to do. His boots slid, unable to find purchase. His arms flailed around, trapped in the horrible nothingness he feared above all else. He felt it in his nose, his mouth, forcing its way inside. The water was trying to kill him again.

Something pulled his belt up, then fingers circled his arm.

Cassius hauled him out of the water. ‘Just stand up, man! Stand up straight – it’s only three feet deep.’

Coughing and panting, the bodyguard put out his hands and finally steadied himself.

‘Gods. Calm yourself.’

Indavara sucked in some breaths, then crashed a fist into the water.

‘Where in Hades are we?’

‘I told you. The main channel.’

‘We were better off up there! You should have left me to it.’

Ignoring this idiocy, Cassius looked around. The channel was about five yards across with a high, curved roof. Directly above them was a circular grille providing a bit of light from the streets above. The water was waist deep and flowing past them at some rate. Cassius had already taken his hands out to avoid the weed and other detritus. Unlike in the dank, musty tunnels, here there was a sweet tang to the air that somehow seemed even more unpleasant.

‘There’ll be maintenance access somewhere. We just have to work out which way.’ As he checked he still had his sword and the satchel, he realised the cold water was already making him shiver.

From the feeder channel came the sound of voices.

‘Help me find my sword,’ said Indavara.

‘I will but don’t worry, we’ve got time. They won’t follow us down here.’

‘Corbulo, I just killed two of them.’

‘There’s no way they’re going to follow u—’

The two shapes hit the water almost simultaneously. It took Cassius a while to absorb the fact that they were men.

Indavara waded forward, dagger already drawn. The first of them came up quickly. Indavara looked all set to stick him when the warrior launched himself across the tunnel and clamped his hands around his wrists. They struggled on, twisting through the water, fighting to control the blade.

Cassius was reaching for his sword. By the time he realised his dagger would be more use to him, the second warrior was close. Cassius tried to back away but his right foot slipped and flew up. Before he could regain his balance the man was on him.

Cassius snatched a breath then went under. With one hand gripping his hair and another on his chest the warrior had him pinned.

He doesn’t need a blade. He’s going to drown me.

The bastard was strong. Cassius lashed out at the hand on his chest but couldn’t shift it. He reached down to try to push himself back up but his right arm was weighed down by the satchel.

Satchel. The arrow’s still stuck in it.

He gripped the shaft, wrenched it free.

Indavara turned the warrior towards the tunnel wall and pushed him into it. The man’s fingers pulled and scratched at his, trying to loosen his grip on the dagger. Their heads were close; the Syrian’s long, wet hair was tickling Indavara’s nose. He felt breath on his neck, then teeth on his ear. His good ear.

Oh no you don’t.

Indavara smashed his forehead into the warrior, catching him just above the eye. The bones could be broken there, he knew.

The second butt was harder. Pain pulsed through his skull but he’d heard the crack; with the eye socket broken, his enemy would be hurting more.

The grip on his wrists went slack. He knocked the warrior aside with his elbows. The man went under for a moment and came up spluttering.

Gripping the man’s shoulder to help him aim, Indavara stuck the dagger deep into his throat. When he pulled it back out, the gurgling told him he’d done enough. As warm blood streamed down his fingers, he turned, ready to help Corbulo. All he could see was the warrior’s back.

Cassius stabbed the point of the arrow into the hand. Instantly the weight came off his chest and his hair was freed. He pivoted forward, planted his feet and came up out of the water. The warrior was standing right in front of him, holding his wounded hand.

A broad shape loomed behind him then something thumped into the warrior’s back. Breath rushed out of him. Head sagging, he gave a final whimper and pitched forward into the water.

‘All right?’ grunted Indavara.

‘I am now,’ said Cassius between breaths.

The flow of the water washed the dead warrior down on to him.

‘Uh.’ He pushed the corpse away.

Indavara grabbed the other dead man and sent him after his compatriot. ‘Corbulo, tell me you can get us out of here.’

Still breathing hard, Cassius grabbed the wall to steady himself. ‘I think so. Judging by the noise there’s some kind of drop behind me so we should probably go the other way. Oh.’

There was light in the tunnel and the noise of someone sloshing towards them. Cassius moved up beside Indavara. The two figures could be seen quite clearly.

‘Ah, shit,’ said Indavara. ‘That bald bastard and the other man. Probably only them left.’

‘They must have found another way down. There’s probably dozens of feeder channels.’

The bald man was carrying a bow, the other man a lantern.

Indavara waded over to the feeder channel they had slid down. The steep angle, smooth surface and flowing water made climbing up it a virtual impossibility.

The bald man called out in Aramaic. Recieving no reply, he reached over his shoulder and took an arrow from the quiver.

Cassius and Indavara lowered themselves into the water.

‘This drop behind us,’ said the bodyguard. ‘Drop into what?’

‘Probably a cistern – a big tank.’

‘Of water?’

‘Indavara, we’re inside an aqueduct.’

‘Deep?’

‘Could be.’

The advancing pair were thirty feet away. The man with the lantern opened the shutter wide.

‘Got that rope?’ asked Indavara.

Cassius pulled the satchel out of the water. Indavara detached the rope and uncoiled it.

‘You want to tie us together?’

‘If it’s deep, you’ll have to pull me out of there.’

Cassius hesitated; if the water
was
deep the bodyguard would panic and he stood almost no chance of getting him out. More likely they’d both drown.

The bald man peered along the tunnel towards them. ‘I know you’re there,’ he said in Greek. Holding the bow at an angle to keep it out of the water, he nocked the arrow and drew the string.

‘We’ll just hold on to it,’ said Cassius. ‘That’s safer.’

The bowstring pinged and arrow flew between them, hitting the water a few yards back.

‘It’s summer,’ said Indavara as they retreated. ‘So it shouldn’t be that deep, right?’

‘Right.’ Cassius didn’t mention that this was the place where all the water from hundreds of different sources was directed to fill the city’s central reservoirs. He passed one end of the rope to Indavara and held the rest in his hand.

‘Let’s turn round, make sure we go in feet first.’

Cassius heard the bodyguard’s breathing accelerate. He could also hear the rumble of falling water not far ahead.

‘Just let it take you.’

Indavara said, ‘I’ll sink.’

‘I’m the one wearing the armour – you’ll float. Just hold on to the rope.’

‘Not a problem.’

‘I see you!’ yelled the old man.

‘Now.’ Cassius brought his legs up and was instantly pulled along by the water. ‘You there?’

He heard a splutter, then, ‘Here!’

They smashed into each other, arms and legs tangling. Cassius went under, felt his feet scrape the bottom, then everything fell away and he was tumbling through the darkness.

There was no splash, no rush of water.

Only a heavy splat as he landed on his back. He put his hands down and felt thick, slimy mud beneath his fingers. The sweet, fetid smell rushed up his nostrils and he almost gagged. Water from the tunnel was cascading down in front of him, splashing his lower half and running in rivulets beneath him. He looked up. Far, far above was a double line of circles admitting a little light.

‘Indavara?’

‘Here.’

Cassius realised he could see him, a few feet to his right. He could also make out the outline of pillars running along the side of the chamber. Whatever they were in, it was big.

‘My Fortuna is watching over us,’ said Indavara, almost laughing. ‘Mud. Just mud.’

Cassius – still lying on his back – turned to the left. The pillars looked closer on this side and he could make out a horizontal line below them. He also realised he could see no trace of the two dead warriors.

Cassius felt a void form beneath his backside and he dropped several inches into the mud.

Indavara was twisting around. ‘Mind you, it might not be easy to—’

‘Don’t move.’

‘What? Oh shit, I think I’m sinking.’

‘Spread your arms and legs wide. Stay as still as you can.’

As dread tugged at his throat, Cassius shook the rope off his hand.

‘Corbulo, what do we do?’

‘Just stay calm. Let go of the rope.’

‘What?’

Cassius could feel the mud bubbling around his thighs.

‘Let go.’

‘I’m sinking!’

‘Me too, now let go of the rope, you cretin.’

Indavara unravelled it from his wrist and threw it at him. Cassius began coiling it.

‘What are you doing?’

Instead of answering, Cassius tied one end of the rope around his belt. He had no idea how long it was. Thirty feet? Forty? Long enough?

He reached down with his left hand and pulled his sword out of the sheath.

‘Oh, gods,’ wailed Indavara. ‘It’s coming over my chest. Corbulo!’

Cassius guessed that the bodyguard’s fear of mud was probably not all that different to his fear of water. As he tied the other end of the rope around the handle of the sword, he spoke to him as calmly as he could. ‘A prayer to Fortuna. Repeat it – she’ll get us out of this.’

As the bodyguard stammered something, Cassius tied off the knot. He reckoned he’d worked out where they were. This was a settling basin, a stone tank designed to catch any remaining pollution in the water before it reached baths or a reservoir. The water would flow into and through the mud, leaving foreign bodies and sediment behind. This one was clearly in desperate need of clearing out.

Holding the base of the hilt in his right hand and the blade in his left, he drew his right arm back and threw the sword high into the air. The tremor through the rope told him it had landed.

He pulled it in. The sword caught for a moment but as soon as he yanked on it, it came easily. ‘Gods.’

‘Corbulo, give me the rope!’

‘Stay still. One minute and we’ll be out of here.’

Cassius had recovered the sword but his legs were now almost completely submerged. It was difficult to get his right arm out of the mud to prepare for the throw. He looked again; he could see the pillars and – closer – the side of the basin. No more than thirty feet, maybe less.

Come on. This time.

Cassius stretched his arm out wide to get the maximum leverage then launched the sword high. It seemed to be in the air for an impossibly long time. Then came the clatter of metal on stone.

‘It’s there!’

But he knew it would count for nothing if he couldn’t get it to catch on something.

‘Corbulo!’

‘Just hold on.’

Please, Jupiter. Please.

Three heaves and the rope straightened. The sword was caught.

‘Corbulo!’ Indavara had somehow got over to him and was pawing at his right arm. ‘Is it holding?’

Cassius felt the mud seep over his chest and slide up his neck.

He pulled hard on the rope. It seemed to hold for a moment but then came loose.

‘No!’ He inhaled half a mouthful of mud. Spitting out what he could, he turned to his right. He could see only Indavara’s head and shoulders and now his own legs were sliding under him. He yanked on the rope and felt the sword move. Was there even time for another throw? He pulled on it again but this time it wouldn’t move. He heaved with both hands to make sure.