The Baby and the Battlefield

Chapter Forty: The Coubin Pass

Since leaving Byford Augusta, the travellers had followed the Florea, spending days matching the river's dips and turns. Now, though, they turned up towards the mountains, their goal the Coubin pass, and ultimately the town of Aurausia, where Marcus had been born and grown to manhood. Despite the name, the Coubin pass was really two passes, one from the valley of the Florea to the valley of the Coubin, and the next from the Coubin valley to that of the Silaura. The Silaura, this far north, was a cold mountain stream; by the time it reached Aurausia, it would be a mighty river, too broad and too deep to ford, though still cold with the meltwater from the mountain ice. Aurausia was right on the river, much closer to the coast than Byford Augusta, and more than halfway to the capital. On the outskirts of Aurausia lay a small, but luxurious villa surrounded by a farm that was nothing more than a large market-garden, Marcus' home.

Although the plan sounded simple, this far from the capital the borders of the empire were rough and ragged. Both banks of the Florea, near her source, were imperial, but the valleys of the Coubin and the Silaura, for at least a day’s journey downstream, were both firmly in Estavacan territory.

The Coubin pass looked as fine as a thread between the two dark, ominous peaks. The road had turned upward two days ago, leaving the valley of the Florea, which by now was quick, cold, and little more than a stream. Aurelia had, suddenly and to everyone’s surprised, started saying the occasional, recognizable word. So far she had refused to call Marcus ‘daddy’, or any variation thereof. Instead, her vocabulary apparently consisted of crying for ‘Mul’, or, if Mulberry was not forthcoming, ‘Suga’. Marcus tried not to look too jealous of the girls. Instead, he had repeatedly turned the group’s conversations away from the baby and towards their journey.

Marcus and Salix both insisted that the nomadic Estavacan clans would be far to the West, battling the empire, and that there were no settled Estavaci this close to the border. Petro disagreed loudly, while Tsuga mostly kept her own counsel, under knotted brows and the occasional grumpy sigh. She periodically broke her silence to quiz Mulberry about the Estavacan movements, prompting angry replies of the “I don’t keep track of every clan in the confederacy!” variety.

The top of the first pass marked the boundary between the territories of the two peoples. A curtain of stout, grey masonry extended across the narrow space, linking the two nearly shear mountainsides. Upon sighting the wall, both the Florae transformed into their bird forms. Dead set in the middle of the curtain wall was a heavy gate made of wood belted with iron. This door was wide open, though an inner gate, wrought of heavy iron bars, remained closed. To the left as they approached the gate was a guard tower, an enormous structure that could easily house fifty men. Even in these times of war with the Estavaci, however, the garrison seemed short-staffed. Only one sleepy-looking guard stood at the gate. Tsuga and Salix flew on into the valley, reconnoitring.

The young guard blinked in surprise to see the travellers approach, especially when he realized Marcus and Petro were in full uniform. He took in the scene – two soldiers, one slave girl, and an infant, leading three horses that really ought to be ridden. The guard shifted from foot to foot, as though he couldn’t decide whether to salute, or demand that Marcus and Petro stop impersonating officers. Finally he came to a conclusion, and, brandishing his spear, shouted, “Halt!”

Mulberry nervously hugged Aurelia to her chest as Marcus and Petro exchanged glances.

“Let us pass, soldier,” Marcus said, sighing and drawing a beaten-up sheet of reed paper from his breastplate .

“I have a writ here from the centurion of our legion. Here, look,” he explained, pushing the paper forward.

The soldier looked it over and sniffed. Then, without turning to open the gate, he trotted over to the door at the base of the tower. He disappeared into it for what seemed like a very long time. Aurelia babbled the whole time, pointing up at where Tsuga and Salix were flying, while Mulberry tried to hush her – it wouldn’t do to have anyone figure out the secret of the two birds.

When the young soldier returned, he was followed by a broad-shouldered man in armour. The armour was decorated with the insignia of the rose and the dragon, but also with a small wreath over the heart, composed of intertwined oak and laurel leaves. Both Marcus and Petro snapped to attention immediately. This man, Marcus realised, ranked higher than the commander of their unit – he was comparable to the ambassador Gaius had served under before being left behind with the Arcius garrison to die. Thinking of Gaius made Marcus feel sick. His stomach turned sour as his legs went gummy. He tried to push the thought of the neat little clay jar to the back of his mind, and saluted the man.

The broad-shouldered man looked at Marcus and Petro doubtfully. His expression sour, he reviewed their writ, then turned to the junior soldier. “Let them pass,” he said wearily. As the soldier began to unlock the bolts on the door, his superior turned back to Marcus and Petro.

“You’d best be careful out there, lads. Especially with the woman and the baby. There are things out there that you’d better pray you don’t run into. Even the Estavaci don't come this way any more.”

“Bandits?” Petro asked. “Not again!”

The old soldier laughed, “Bandits? No, it’s much worse than that. So you two keep an eye on yourselves, and on your slave girl and the kid. And pray that she doesn’t wake up.”