Authors: Kevin Ashman
‘Murray?’ he asked.
‘Who the fuck is Murray?’ asked a voice.
‘Sorry, Mike, You caught me having a power nap. Any news?'
‘Well, sort of,’ said Mike, ‘We reviewed the CCTV on all the entrances and there is no sign of her entering the station.’
‘Shit!’ cursed Brandon.
‘Hold your horses,’ said Mike, ‘I also reviewed the cameras outside the station and it seems like two people matching your descriptions got out of a cab and entered a house halfway between the train station and the bus station.’
‘You think it was them?’
‘Sure it was,’ said Mike, ‘We managed to get someone inside, but it seems the place is hardly used.’
‘What happened?’ interrupted Brandon sitting up, ‘Was she there?’
‘No, one of the guys had a good look around and there’s no sign of her. The only thing we can think of is that they left the building via the car park.’
‘Car park?’
‘Yes, underneath the building there is a small car park that exits onto the road at the side of the building.’
‘Anything on camera?’
‘No, that’s the thing. The only vehicle to come out after the time she went in was a battered old van.’
Brandon looked up the hill towards where he had spent the last few hours, thinking about the vehicles he had seen a few hours earlier.
‘Describe it,’ he said suddenly.
‘What?’
‘Describe the van,’ said Brandon tersely, ‘Was there anything strange about it?’
‘No not really, it was a bit shit, really. Old, white, battered.’
‘
Go on,
’ thought Brandon, ‘
Say it.
’
‘Oh and it had a black door on the passenger side,’ said Mike, confirming Brandon’s suspicions. By the time we realised the connection it had long gone, and I can’t access the London CCTV grid without a warrant. Sorry, Brandon, I have no idea where it went.’
That’s okay, Mike,’ said Brandon, ‘I know exactly where it went.’ His phone beeped once in his hand. ‘Mike, I have to go,’ he said, ‘I’ve got another call on the line. Talk later, cheers.’ He pressed the red button on the phone, quickly followed by the green one.
----
‘Murray,’ he said, ‘About fucking time.’
‘Calm down,’ he said, ‘I got stuck in traffic.’
‘Where are you?’
‘About ten minutes away,’ he said, ‘You okay?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Brandon, ‘Just shift your arse and get back here.’ He hung up and made his way down the last few hundred yards to the lay-by. A few minutes later, the taxi pulled up and Murray got out.
‘Got it?’ asked Brandon.
‘In the boot,’ said Murray, ‘Nice lady, you’re mother.’
‘Yeah, diamond,’ said Brandon.
‘Got you something else, too!’
Brandon looked as Murray reached over to the passenger seat to retrieve a carrier bag.
‘Your mother sent me on a side errand on the way back,’ said Murray, ‘Figured you may be hungry. Fish and chips and a can of coke do you?’
‘Murray, you’re a fucking legend,’ said Brandon with a smile, taking the bag. He sat on a log and got stuck in to the greasy meal with enthusiasm. He had not realised how hungry he actually was. Murray leaned against his cab, eating his own bag of chips.
‘Thanks for this,’ he said, ‘Just what the doctor ordered.’
‘No problem,’ said Murray, ‘I’ll add it on your bill.’
Brandon smiled.
‘So what happens now?’ asked Murray.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Up there,’ said Murray, ‘At the convent. That’s where you’re going, isn’t it?’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘I’m not stupid,’ said Murray, ‘That bag in the boot, it’s special forces issue isn’t it?’
‘Is it?’
‘Look mister,’ said Murray, ‘Many years ago I did some time in the Territorial Army. Nothing special but some of my mates are still in the mob and I know a squaddy when I see one. I reckon you intend to get into that convent to find your girlfriend or whoever she is.’
Brandon stared at him for a moment before laughing.
‘Fucking hell,’ he said, ‘Everyone’s an expert these days, so much for secrecy eh?’
‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ said Murray.
‘Look, mate,’ said Brandon opening the boot of the car, ‘You probably know too much already, and that’s my fault. I wasn’t thinking straight.’ He unzipped the oversized air-force blue holdall.’ The less you know the better,’ he continued, ‘Nothing personal, you understand, it’s just safer that way. At least five people have died that I know of, and I would hate you to be the sixth.’ He started to undress, placing all his civilian clothes in the boot, before donning a pair of black denim cotton trousers, and pulling a black, fleece lined buffalo jacket over his head.
‘Look,’ said Murray, ‘I know you can’t tell me what’s going on but if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask yeah?’
‘Cheers,’ said Brandon, tying the last lace on his combat boots. He stood up and looked thoughtfully at Murray, ‘Actually, there is something you can do,’ he added, pulling out his phone, ‘What’s your number? ‘
Murray told him his number and watched as Brandon punched something into his own phone.
‘I’ve just sent you a number,’ said Brandon, ‘If you don’t hear from me in twenty four hours, I want you to call that number and ask for Mike. Tell him everything. He will know what to do.’
‘You sure about this?’ asked Murray.
‘Positive,’ said Brandon, pulling out a pre packed rucksack from the holdall, ‘You do that, and when this is all over, you can treat me to a couple of pints out of that grand you swindled me out of, yeah?’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ laughed Murray, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be watching that clock like a hawk.’
‘Right, I’m off,’ said Brandon.
Murray held out his hand, and after a second, it was taken by Murray in a handshake based on trust.
‘Good luck, mate,’ said Murray.
Brandon nodded and climbed over the stile to the field beyond, retracing his steps up the hill he had checked out earlier. Murray pulled a cigarette and leant against the cab, drawing the smoke in deeply as he watched the stranger disappear into the gloom. A few minutes later he held out his hand to flick the butt of the cigarette over the hedge, but froze dead in his tracks as the feel of a cold pistol barrel pressed gently against his Temple.
‘Hello again,
stupid
,’ said a voice with a foreign accent, ‘Remember me?’
----
Britannia 64 AD
The first couple of weeks had been difficult for the fugitives. They had travelled by night, heading westwards away from the coast, avoiding any contact with locals and the occasional Roman patrols. The ship’s Captain had given them what dried meat, he could spare but it wasn’t much and they had to supplement what they had with roots and berries wherever they could.
Eventually, however, the food inevitably ran out, and in desperation they had to risk interacting with the locals. By carefully selecting their targets and with Dragus’s basic knowledge of the language, they somehow managed to scrape through, but eventually, Rose approached him with a look of concern on her face.
‘Centurion, I would speak with you,’ she said.
Dragus opened his eyes and looked up at her. He was sat with his back against a tree, one of many temporary resting places they had been forced to take as they struggled through the never ending forest. The fact that they were avoiding the main tracks meant that it was much harder going and the effort was taking its toll on the women. This was the third break since morning and the sun was still not yet halfway through its journey.
‘How is she?’ asked Dragus, nodding towards the resting figure of Rubria who was sat on the banks of a small stream, bathing her sore feet.
‘Not good,’ she said, ‘We really need to find somewhere a bit more permanent so she can rest properly.’
‘I know,’ said Brandon with a sigh, ‘Another few weeks and we will be in the lands of the Atrebates. They are known to be a friendly people and welcome strangers to their midst.’
‘We cannot wait a few weeks,’ said Rose, ‘We have to find somewhere soon or I fear the worst.’
‘Surely it’s not that bad,’ said Dragus, ‘I know there is little food but we are not doing badly.’ He looked over towards Rubria. ‘I’m afraid her beauty and frailty comes at a price. Her hands were not designed to fend off the thorns of the forest, and blisters are a curse she was never intended to bear.’
‘You underestimate her,’ said Rose, ‘I have not heard one complaint escape her lips yet I know she is exhausted.’
‘We will take more rests,’ said Dragus, ‘Give her chance to regain her strength.’
‘Another few weeks and we will be relatively safe.’
‘We don’t have the time,’ she interrupted, ‘We have to find somewhere soon.’
‘That is not an option…’ started Dragus.
‘Dragus, for the love of Vesta, will you listen to me?’ she hissed, ‘She is with child!’
‘
What
?’ said Dragus, ‘That is impossible.’
Rose glanced over at Rubria before continuing.
‘I have seen this a hundred times, and she has all the signs.’
‘She can’t be,’ said Dragus,’ She is a Priestess of the Goddess Vesta, one of her Holy Virgins. They are betrothed to the order for thirty years. Surely she would not have broken her oath so easily.’
‘Not by choice,’ said Rose, ‘Don’t forget what she suffered at the hand of our illustrious leader.’
Dragus looked over towards Rubria.
‘Has she discussed this with you?’ he asked eventually.
‘Discussed it?’ said Rose gently, Dragus, the Priestess is so innocent, I don’t think she even knows she is pregnant.’
They both looked at the Priestess, leaning back on her elbows as she dangled her feet in the cool stream. Her head tilted back to face the sky, drinking in a sunbeam that managed to break through the foliage and her eyes closed for a few seconds, enjoying the rare feeling of warmth on her skin.
Dragus took in the detail with growing concern. He had been so wrapped up in getting them safely to their destination he had not noticed the deterioration in the Priestess. Her once long golden hair was tangled and her face was smeared with stains of sweat and grime. Her clothes were torn and her face was gaunt. As he watched he saw her brow furrow slightly and her hand went unconsciously to her stomach, reacting to an unfamiliar feeling within.
‘By the gods, Rose,’ said Dragus, quietly, ‘What have I done?’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Rose, ‘This is not you’re fault.’
‘But it is,’ said Dragus, ‘I have been so engrossed in my own little adventure I have neglected that which I hold most dearly.’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ said Rose. ‘It is not too late but we do need to find somewhere soon.’
‘Agreed,’ said Dragus eventually. ‘We will make a camp here. There is water and some food. If you’re careful, it should last a few days. I should be back by then.’
‘Where are you going?’ asked Rose.
‘To bring this to an end,’ said Dragus. ‘You are safe enough here, but if I am not back in three days, head east towards the morning sun. You will eventually come across one of our roads. Make your way to Londinium and take your chances there.’
‘Dragus,’ said Rose…
‘Enough!’ said Dragus, ‘You will do as I say. I have brought this on and I will resolve the matter.’
‘But can’t we all go together and just stop at the nearest village?’ she asked.
‘Not as simple as that,’ he answered, ‘Trust me, I know how these people work. You stay here and I promise I will return, now, help me make a shelter. The sooner I get started the sooner I will return.’
They got up together and as Dragus gathered the saplings and bracken he needed to make a shelter, Rose explained the situation to Rubria, blaming an imaginary foot injury as an excuse why they couldn’t go on any further.
‘Take care, Dragus,’ said Rubria when he was ready to leave.
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Dragus, ‘You just look after Rose.’
‘I will,’ she said and the two women watched as he disappeared into the gloom of the forest.
----
For a day and a half he struggled through the forest, the hunger gnawing at him like a rabid dog, Finally he saw signs of life and he followed the track to a village situated at the edge of a small river. He hid in the undergrowth for a few hours, watching the day to day life unfold, gleaning an understanding of the type of village it was. If it was warlike, then he would have to bypass it as the fact he was Roman meant he wouldn’t last a few minutes, but seeing no signs of militia, he finally stood up and walked in, making his way to central hut, where he knew he would find the Chieftain. A group of curious children gathered around him as he walked, and the commotion brought interested people from the surrounding huts.