Vengeance Read Free Page A

entry and a creature that made no attempt to avoid their attention as they got her bridled and saddled. The reluctance of Ohannes to actually mount was clear; on the way back to the Belisarius villa he was content to stay on foot and lead the animal.
    They found the family stable open, which had Flavius looking sheepish, for though it had not been stated to him, it had been his responsibility to secure the property and, assuming some servantwould lock these gates without being asked, in that he had failed. It mattered not, since it seemed nothing was untoward, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief.
    That did not last: having only just begun preparing the youngster’s stallion, they heard a crashing sound from the main house, followed immediately by another, an indication that someone unwelcome might be within the walls. Ohannes’s silent gesture that the youngster should stay still and let him investigate was ignored; Flavius, sword out, was dogging his heels as the Scythian slipped in through the kitchens and headed for the family quarters.
    The centurion Decimus Belisarius could not go into battle with the family valuables or his military treasury, but as had already been established, a soldier had been left behind to guard both. They found his body in the main hallway, leather helmet split open and blood oozing from his raggedly cut throat. His unused sword was still in his hand, while from within the nearby room that Flavius’s father used as his bureau came the sounds of both cursing and crashing as the men who had done the killing sought to smash their way into the huge padlocked chest that held everything the centurion considered precious.

C HAPTER T WO
    ‘ Y ou must stay here,’ Ohannes insisted in a hushed whisper as he picked up the sword from the murdered guard.
    The reply was just as hushed, but terse. ‘This is my house.’
    ‘Then go fetch help.’
    ‘From where?’ Flavius said, making for the open doorway until a strong flat hand hit his chest, stopping him dead, but doing nothing to dent his determination. ‘There’s no one about and my father is half a league away.’
    ‘Then stay behind me,’ Ohannes hissed as another set of curses and thuds came through the open doorway.
    So great was the noise that the pair, swords at the ready, eased unseen through the doorway, until Flavius, possibly through nerves, certainly through a lack of experience, allowed his weapon point to touch the stone of the wall and send out a metallic warning. The men intent on robbery spun round, one holding the axe with whichhe had placed several deep woodcuts around a lock set in stout oak. The other villain had a short spear and somewhere on their person both must have had knives.
    Killers already, they knew they were confronting death and it was inevitable that faced with an old man with greying hair, bony and scarred from many a battle, set against a young and fresh-faced youth, they should make Flavius their prime target. The spear point was aimed at his breastplate within a blink, the hand holding it drawing back to thrust, the youngster too rooted to the spot to react properly. Ohannes saved him by rushing forward and closing with the spearman before he could cast his weapon, a thrust-out and fully extended sword taking the surprised thief in the upper part of his chest.
    That exposed Ohannes to a blow from a now raised axe and he was badly placed to avoid the swing of it, while Flavius was not close enough to counter what was bound to be fatal, so when he threw his sword it was in panic rather than any real hope. Mere luck had it spin point forward to take the axeman in the face, cutting his nose and cheek deeply and imposing enough of a check on his swing to allow Ohannes the time to extract his blade from the spear carrier. That did not entirely save him, for the axe had been raised again, ready to come down at a speed that would split the old man’s skull.
    Flavius had followed up his weapon and, charging