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.”Dio snorted, Quintus laughed.There were good-natured grumbles back and forth as to the use of the cramped space for sleeping; each one of them aware that they were joking so as not to think too much.Finally the three of them curled up on Dio’s mantle and spread Fabian’s mantle over the top of them.The white birches near the mouth of the cave cast faint shadows over the sleeping three as the sky greyed into early dawn.Quintus was sleeping heavily and dreaming of Rome.An extremely pleasant dream in which his mother was laughing with Regan, who was dressed in gorgeous clothes like those of Nero’s beloved Poppaea--all peacock satins and cloth of gold, which Quintus had somehow provided for her.He didn’t know what the sound was that woke him, but he sprang up grabbing his spear.The other two woke at his jump, and without knowing what the trouble was, both backed against the wall and drew their swords in one motion.For a second, between sleepiness and the uncertain light, they could not see anything, but then the sound which had awakened Quintus came again.A low snarling growl that raised the hairs on his neck.He had never heard that sound before yet he knew what it was, even before Dio whispered, “Wolves.”Then Quintus saw two huge shapes slinking toward them through the birches.“Shout!” cried Fabian.“Make a noise! They’ll go away, they can’t be hungry this time of year.”The young men shouted and yelled until the cave reverberated behind them, but the two sinister shapes behind the birches did not retreat They stopped and watched, their cruel yellow eyes glinting with menace.“Jupiter Maximus--?” groaned Fabian suddenly.“I know what it is--this is their lair and those were wolf cubs we heard in the cave.They’re going to attack us!”The great grey wolf and his mate had started to move forward again.They drew slowly nearer, and the horrible low growling grew louder.Quintus’ hand clenched around his spear.The mouth of the cave was too low.He couldn’t straighten up to aim.He began to edge outside, until his head cleared the rock ledge.“No, don’t--” whispered Fabian.“If you miss him we’ll have lost the spear.Get behind us, we’ve the swords--”Quintus did not hear.His heart was pounding, but his mind was cool and alert as he carefully counted the distance between him and the larger wolf, who kept advancing.Quintus drew his arm back and waited.He saw the white fangs bared, the slobbering red tongue.He saw the fur on the shoulders stiffen and rise, as the great beast tensed for the spring.Quintus drew a rasping breath and waited yet another second.The instant the wolf lunged, ,Quintus hurled, the spear straight at the lighter fur on the chest.There was a fountain jet of blood as the spearhead pierced to the wolfs heart.The wolf fell from mid-air into a twitching heap on the ground.And the other wolf, snarling and panting, stopped her stealthy advance and stood irresolute, the yellow eyes glaring at the heaving body of her mate and at the blood that spurted once more--and stopped.“Bravo, Quintus!” cried Dio.He and Fabian rushed together toward the she-wolf.But she was too quick for them.She doubled back and flattening herself belly-to-ground ran past their drawn swords straight into the cave.“Whew--!” breathed Quintus, looking down at the dead wolf.“Thanks be to Diana, to Fortuna, even to the Celtic gods, that I’ve finally learned how to throw that thing.”He hauled and tugged until the spear came out, dripping red.He examined the flint head, which was undamaged.Even the rawhide which bound the flint to the shaft had not loosened.“Here, quick--help me,” grunted Fabian, who was on his knees beside the wolf, expertly carving out a piece of haunch with his small knife.“Get a stick.”Quintus found a long pointed one, and he and Dio skewered the hunk of meat on it.Dio hoisted the stick over his shoulder.“Interesting change of menu,” he said.“Wolf instead of beaver, one never knows--”“And one doesn’t know what that she-wolf intends to do either,” interrupted Fabian curtly, with a glance over his shoulder at the cave.“Won’t she stay by her young?” asked Quintus.“Probably, or by the body of her dead mate, but--”“We’d better be going,” Quintus finished the sentence.They started down the hillside with considerable haste, crashing through the thickets and brambles until they reached the barrow with its cairn of stones, and the overgrown rutted track.They started east again along the track and had gone a few yards when Dio, shifting the heavy hunk of skewered meat from one shoulder to the other, said, “You know, it suddenly occurs to me that we’ve left our mantles and helmets behind in the cave, Fabian.”“Yes, it occurs to me too,” said Fabian grimly.“Also,” continued Dio, “that returning for them doesn’t appeal to me.Madam Wolf is in full possession, and for all I know has summoned all her relatives by now.”As if in answer to him they heard a sound floating down from the hillside behind--the long mournful howl of a wolf.The three paused and listened, then walked on silently.“So now we are in the same boat as Quintus,” observed Dio after a while.“And there’s nothing to show definitely that we’re Romans, except the Fourteen on our jerkins, which can be hidden.”“And your swords,” said Quintus a trifle enviously, but not as he would have said it yesterday.He now clasped his spear with confidence.“And our swords,” agreed Dio.‘Though I hope we’ll have no use for them--until the big battle.I find that my adventures of the last fortnight have left me with a--shall we say--disinclination for more excitement right away.I find myself shamefully thinking of a good bed, of sweet Neapolitan sunshine and music, of gentle smiling, girls, and soft living generally.”“Go ahead and think,” said Fabian dryly, striding ahead and lacing the top of his jerkin, for a cold wet wind had sprung up.But Quintus was startled by something reminiscent in Dio’s chatter.“I had a--a friend, in the Ninth, who used to talk like that,” he said hesitantly, though realizing at once how little Dio and Lucius, really resembled each other.Dio’s rueful complaint had been humorous, un-resentful.For all his light manner, Dio had a tremendous loyalty to his job, and a strong sense of duty.While Lucius--“Something queer happen to the friend?” asked Dio, looking up at Quintus.“Your voice was funny.”Quintus wished that he could confide the pain and disillusionment that the thought of Lucius gave him.But he couldn’t bring himself to say, “I was awfully fond of him and thought he was a friend, but he let me down once; and far worse than that, when all our men were being slaughtered around us, he ran away.” So he nodded briefly instead and stared ahead at Fabian’s shoulders.“That’s too bad,” said Dio gently, thinking that the friend had been killed in the disaster to the Ninth, and he changed the subject.“How long are we going to lug this blasted hunk of wolf meat, Fabian? I’m hungry enough to eat it raw.”The elder messenger turned around.“I hope we won’t have to.There’s a native hut there in the valley; perhaps they’ll let us use their fire.”They looked down at an isolated little British farm.Behind a paling there was a round wattle-and-mud hut thatched with reeds [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]