“Now, hold up a minute and drink,” Clodius said, blocking the tribune’s path and extending the brimming helmet from which he had not drunk himself as yet. “Sir.”
Vibulenus swayed as he halted, but he squeezed his eyes shut and felt his body steady while his retinas pulsed alternately red and violet. He took the helmet, shocked by its weight, and managed to inhale part of the mouthful he awkwardly gulped. Coughing, he handed the makeshift container back to Clodius while trying to nod his thanks because he could not speak.
It was good water, cold at least. Though flavored by the file-closer’s sweat as well as the dust and phlegm coating Vibulenus’ own throat, the water left no mineral aftertaste.
The tribune looked at the fountain and thought about the larger equivalent of that floating construct, the vessel which had brought them here. He understood nothing about either, except that they were here, and that the water was water. . . . The arcs and circular dead ends in which the young officer’s brain spun were so perfectly empty that they acted as an anodyne to the pain of his body, even after all four of them drank a second time and he prepared to march on toward the Commander.
“Everybody all right?” Clodius Afer asked in a cautionary tone, the helmet poised between his palms and the hinged cheek pieces flopping over the backs of his hands.
“Yessir,” chorused the legionaries, while Vibulenus lifted his beardless chin in assent and said, “Yes, thank you, I feel much better.”
That was true, though the tribune did not know whether it resulted from the water, the pause, or simply that the pain was beginning to overcome his capacity to feel it.
“That’s fine,” said the file-closer with a wicked grin. He put his helmet back on. The water that still nearly filled it poured over his head and down the links of his mail shirt like a stream cascading through rapids. “Damn but I needed that,” the non-com remarked, continuing to grin.
Vibulenus found that the incident made his youthful honor prickle. Had the veteran made a fool of him, getting the officer to surrender the water that could have bathed him instead?
“You earned it,” the tribune said, saved by his instincts. He clapped the older man on the shoulder as they strode off together toward the camp.
Legionaries who had scaled the enemy’s sloping wall were now staggering back with all manner of loot, most of it as odd as the huge bronze sheet that early-comers had carried off. Vibulenus noticed a trio of soldiers returning through the gate, passing a skin of what he supposed was wine. They supposed it was wine also, but, like a scene from a farce, they spewed up the entire contents of their stomachs and collapsed on a count of three.
Another legionary tried to drag the skin out from under the third victim before all its contents dribbled out. A wiser companion tugged him away.
During the battle, the gate of the enemy camp had been closed by a framework around which were woven briars, a sort of vegetation Vibulenus had not encountered in the valley. Some of the panicked native troops had pulled the barrier aside to flee in one direction or the other. The opening made little difference, because the sloping wall was only a slight impediment without troops willing to defend it.
The Commander and his mounted entourage, who had entered by the gate, were making a dignified exit through the same opening when Vibulenus reached it. The bodyguards stalked out in pairs until six of them were aligned in front of the entrance, armored ankle to armored ankle, to block any Romans who might wish to accost the Commander.
As Gaius Vibulenus did.
The young tribune stepped ahead of his companions, to within six feet of the mounted guards and well within reach of their long-shafted maces. Two of the beasts growled, and a third hunched down on his forequarters, baring his teeth. A gap had been cut in the beast’s upper molars to insert a bit.
The guard made no attempt to draw up on his reins. Gravel scattered beneath the creature’s non-retractile claws, one of which was bloodied, as the paws extended toward Vibulenus.