Steven Saylor - Last Seen in Massilia (Novels of Ancient Rome)

In an instant, faster than thought, the young soldier was thrown against me like a stone from a catapult, knocking the breath out of me.

Then all was a roar of chaos and confusion. It seemed to me that I stood on a trapdoor that had suddenly opened, but instead of falling down I fell up. From behind, something circled my chest and lifted me. Somehow I was lodged against the roof of the tunnel, in a cavity of some sort, above the rushing flood, facing down on it. The darkness was not quite absolute; a single flame still flickered from somewhere.

Just beneath me, I gazed into the dark, glittering eyes of the terrified young soldier. He clung to me as the water rushed around him and over him. I tried to grip him in return, but the rush of water and bodies and debris was too great. Something struck his head, so hard that his whole body gave a tremendous jolt. His eyes rolled up. He slipped from my grasp and vanished, lost to the foaming cataract.

Impossibly, I seemed to hover just above the surface of the flood, like a dragonfly. In its depths I saw hands, feet, faces, glinting swords, armor and chain mail, and lumps of broken wood rush by, each glimpsed for an instant and then gone.

The flood went on and on and on. Finally the roar quieted. The rush of water slowed and finally became still. I heard gurgling noises, the lapping of little waves, unaccountable creaks and pops and shudders and groans. Strangely changed from before-duller and deeper-I heard the distant boom! of the battering-ram against the walls of Massilia.

And I heard another sound, so close it seemed almost a part of me. It was Davus behind me, above me, breathing into my ear like a runner whose heart might burst.

As these events unfolded, all was chaos, inexplicable-most inexplicable of all, the fact that I was still alive. Gradually I began to realize what had happened.

An instant before the flood reached us, Davus put one arm around me from behind. When the flood struck, our feet were knocked from under us; but Davus gripped the rafter above us, and so we pivoted upward. So much earth had been dislodged by the vibrations from the battering-ram that a cavity had opened in the roof. Davus jammed his feet and elbows against the edges of the cavity, kept hold of me, and somehow maintained his grip on his wildly flickering taper, all at once.

Davus had exhibited great strength and extraordinary reflexes before. Still, to have acted so quickly and surely in the face of such sudden, overwhelming catastrophe seemed more than human. What god had seen fit to save me this time?

When he managed to catch a breath, Davus whispered, "We're alive. I can't believe it."

But for how long? I thought, staring at the dark, turbid water beneath us. "Davus, I think you can let go of me now."

He released his grip. I slid gently into the water. My feet found the bottom. Standing on tiptoes, stretching my neck, I was able to keep my chin just above the waterline. The cavity in the roof offered the only escape from the water. In finding its equilibrium, the flood had left us this isolated pocket of air.

Something solid but yielding bumped against my ankle. I shuddered, knowing it was human flesh.

Davus slowly, carefully extricated himself from the cavity. The trick was to keep his taper lit and above the waterline. His feet dropped with a splash that sent water into my nostrils. I sputtered and blinked. An instant later Davus was standing beside me, holding his taper safely aloft. His helmet grazed the top of the cavity.

As the shock of the catastrophe began to subside, and with it the thrill of having survived, I began to realize what a terrible pass we had come to. We had escaped one death only to face another, even more horrible. The men who were swept away and drowned at least died suddenly and without dread.

I cursed myself. Why had I come? I had known it was madness when I saw the tunnel entrance before me. Why had I allowed Davus to come with me? I had made a widow of my only daughter. Massilia had already claimed Meto. Now it would claim the two of us as well.

"The bottom of this taper is wet," said Davus. "It won't stay lit much longer."

That would be even more dreadful: to be plunged into utter darkness, buried alive like a condemned Vestal with no hope of rescue.

I suddenly realized that the booming of the battering-ram had ceased. Word of the inundation must have reached Trebonius. The invasion by tunnel had failed. The operation had been canceled. The siege tower with the battering-ram had been rolled back from the walls. In the world above us, the battle was over.

"What happened, father-in-law? The flooding, I mean."

"I don't know. The Massilians must have known about the tunnel, or guessed. Perhaps they dug a reservoir inside the wall, an inner moat. They'd have had to pump water from the harbor to fill it, but they have engineers for that, every bit as clever as Vitruvius. When the sappers finally broke though, the water rushed in. It probably killed every man in the tunnel."

"Except you and me."

"Yes," I said grimly.

"What are we going to do, father-in-law?"

Die, I thought. Then I looked in his eyes and felt a jolt. Davus had not asked the question idly. He was looking to me for an answer. He was fearful, but not despairing. He truly expected to live because, as always, his wise old father-in-law would think of something. Davus's strength and reflexes had just saved our lives. Now it was my turn to return the favor.

"How long can you hold your breath?" I said. "I don't know."

"Long enough to swim from here to the end of the tunnel?"

"We're going to swim out?"

"We can hardly walk."

"Back the way we came?"

I shook my head. "Too far. The opening inside Massilia must be closer."

"But what if it's blocked? I heard timbers breaking. If the earth gave way-"

"If there's an obstruction, we'll simply have to get past it, won't we?"

Davus thought about this and nodded. By the light of the wavering flame, I studied his perfectly chiseled nose, his bright eyes, and strong chin. My daughter had found him handsome despite his simple nature, and without my consent he had became the father of my grandchild. Curious, I thought, that of all the faces in the world, his should be the last I would ever see. Stranger still, that I should find myself faced with drowning in a hole beneath the earth. Drowning was the death I had always most feared, and the one I had least expected to encounter on this day, in this place.

I was a poor swimmer. Davus might have the lungs and the strength to swim to safety, but did I?

"When shall we try it?" he asked.

It would be hard to abandon the safety of the cavity as long as there was light from the taper. But if we waited until the taper burned out and we were plunged into utter darkness, I might lose my nerve, along with all sense of direction. " `It's like pulling a thorn,' I quoted.

" `Quickly done is best done,' " said Davus, finishing the proverb. "I should go first, in case there's something blocking the way."

"A good idea," I granted. If I went first, and my lungs and strength gave out, I would merely block Davus's way. "We should take off our armor. Too heavy. Here, I'll hold the taper while you take off yours. Turn around. I'll help you with the straps." When he was done, I handed back the taper and set to unbuckling my own armor. Keeping my head above water while reaching down to remove the greaves protecting my shins was hardest. Davus held my shoulder with one strong arm.

"What about our swords?" he said.

I touched the scabbard at my waist. "We might need them. To cut through something," I added. The thought terrified me. "And our helmets?" he said.

"We should keep them on. Protect our heads. Who knows what we might swim into?"