The Forgotten Legion - Kane Ben. Страница 12

'I will think of you everywhere!'

'That would please me, Arun.'

Awareness of Olenus' impending death never left Tarquinius but he consoled himself by relishing every moment of their time together. To his dismay, the old man announced on the second evening that Tarquinius would have to leave next morning.

'Take it all!' he said. 'Liver, sword, lituus, the map. Everything.'

'We need at least one more day,' pleaded Tarquinius. 'There is so much to learn!'

'I've taught you everything, Arun.' The haruspex had taken to using the ancient term all the time. 'And you know it. You still have to kill that sixth wolf, remember?'

'I don't care!' Tarquinius picked up the gladius, stabbing an imaginary Caelius. 'I'll gut that bastard!'

'Not now.'

He looked at Olenus keenly. 'What do you mean?'

'Destiny cannot be avoided. Caelius will come in three days.'

Tarquinius clenched his fists.

'Tomorrow morning you will leave and I will spend the day with the ancestors, preparing myself for the end.'

Tarquinius sighed. The last few hours together might as well be happy ones. 'Talk me through the points on the liver one more time.'

With a smile, the haruspex obeyed.

'I'll bury it with the lituus near the estate buildings. It will be safe there.'

'No!' Olenus said sharply. 'The bronze can be hidden as you say, but everything else must go with you.'

'Why? They'll be there when I get back.'

The wrinkled face was impenetrable.

Tarquinius shivered. 'I won't be returning?'

There was real sadness in Olenus' eyes. He shook his head once in reply.

'May my travels last many years then!'

'They will, Arun. More than two decades.' He touched the map gently. 'The Periplus will be of enormous use. Write down all that you see. Complete the knowledge of our ancestors and take it to the city of Alexander.'

Tarquinius tried to take in the scale of the task before him.

'The lituus must be there at the end.' Olenus' voice was sombre. 'And burned with your body.'

For once, Tarquinius himself did not acknowledge the comment. 'Andwhen the soldiers have killed you?'

'The birds can pick my bones clean,' said Olenus calmly. 'It does not matter.'

'I will come back,' vowed Tarquinius. 'I will build a pyre. Perform the rituals.'

Olenus seemed pleased. 'Be sure Caelius has gone. I don't want all my hard work going to waste.'

A lump formed in Tarquinius' throat.

'We Etruscans will live on through the Romans. Even without the liver, their ambition and the information in the libri will help them conquer the world.' Olenus saw Tarquinius glance towards the cave and its huge pile of manuscripts. 'Those I will burn. But the Romans already possess many copies taken from our cities. The most important set is already locked away inside the temple of Jupiter in Rome.' He laughed. 'The superstitious fools only consult it in times of great danger.'

Tarquinius was filled with sadness. He had to make himself look the old man in the eye. 'And our people will just wither into dust?'

'You will pass on much information,' replied Olenus enigmatically.

'To whom? There are few pure-bred Etruscans left in the world.'

Olenus removed a small gold ring from his left forefinger. 'Take this.' Finely decorated with a scarab beetle, it had been on the old man's hand as long as Tarquinius had known him. 'Give this to your adopted son at the end. Although Roman, he will be known as a friend of the Rasenna. Some will always remember.'

'Adopted son?'

'All will become clear, Arun.'

Tarquinius waited, hoping for more.

Suddenly Olenus grabbed his arm. 'Caesar must remember he is mortal,' he hissed. 'Do not forget. Your son must tell him that.'

'What?' Tarquinius had no idea what Olenus meant.

'One day a divination will explain everything.' The haruspex turned away and would no longer respond to questions. He shrank into himself, deep in a trance that lasted till the next morning. It was as if Olenus had been drained of all energy, leaving nothing but an empty husk.

Tarquinius' heart was heavy as he filed away Olenus' words at the back of his mind. Gently he laid out the old man in a comfortable position by the fire and for what remained of the night, sat by him, keeping vigil. He had accepted that everything was pre-ordained, but had never imagined having to accept the death of someone so close. Waves of grief washed over him and the sky was paling before Tarquinius had reconciled himself to the fate of someone dearer than his own father. He was now the last haruspex and only his efforts would prevent the ancient knowledge being forgotten for ever. Except by the Romans. Olenus' years of love and effort must not be wasted. It was a heavy burden, but his burning pride in his ancestry gave the young Etruscan a huge sense of purpose.

Next morning was chilly and full of bright sunlight. Thanks to the cave's altitude, temperatures dropped much lower than in the valley. Silence filled the crisp air and the sky was clear of birds. No living creatures were visible on the bare slopes, but Tarquinius knew from experience it was a good time to hunt. The tracks he had seen the night before would lead him to the wolves.

Neither spoke as Tarquinius filled his pack and ate a piece of dry bread. The haruspex sat on a rock by the entrance, watching quietly, a satisfied look on his face.

'Thank you. For everything.' Tarquinius swallowed hard. 'I will always remember you.'

'And I will never forget.'

They grasped forearms. Olenus seemed to have aged even more overnight, but his grip was still strong.

'Go safely, Arun. We will meet in the afterlife.' The old man was calm and serene, at one with his destiny.

Tarquinius lifted his pack; it was heavier now with the liver, staff and sword inside. The map was tucked safely against his chest in a small pouch. He tried to find words.

'There is nothing more to say.' As always, the haruspex had read his mind. 'Go now and be blessed.'

Tarquinius turned and strode down the track, an arrow notched to the bowstring.

He did not look back.

Chapter IV: Brennus

Nine years pass . . .

Transalpine Gaul, 61 BC

'Loose, before it sees us!'

'Long shot.' The Gaulish warrior looked at his younger cousin and grinned. 'It's at least a hundred paces,' he whispered.

'You can do it.' Brac held the two hunting dogs close, stroking them softly to stop any whining.

Brennus pulled a face, eyes returning to the deer standing between the trees. His powerful bow was already half drawn in preparation, goosefeathered arrow fitted to the string. They had crept the last distance on hands and knees, coming to rest behind a huge fallen trunk. Thanks to the brisk wind blowing away from it, the animal was totally unaware of the men's presence.

The pair had been following the tracks all morning, the dogs' noses guiding them through dense summer undergrowth. The deer had moved without concern, nibbling on leaves from the lower branches and it had paused to drink some rainwater pooled in the gnarled roots of an old oak.

Belenus guide my arrow, thought Brennus.

Drawing the gut string to full stretch, he closed one eye and took aim.

It took immense strength to hold the bow at full draw, but the barbed arrow tip remained steady as a rock. Exhaling, the Gaul loosed the shaft. It flew straight and true, driving deep into the deer's chest with a soft thump.

The quarry toppled to the ground.

Brac clapped Brennus on the shoulder. 'A heart shot! Saved us a long chase.'

The two men loped through the trees, almost unseen in their brown fabric shirts and green trousers. Brac was tall and strong limbed, but his cousin towered over him. The big man's face was broad and cheerful, dominated by a battered apology of a nose. After the fashion of their tribe, the Allobroges, they wore their blond hair in pigtails tied with cloth bands. Both warriors were armed with bows and long spears for hunting.