"Iggulden, Conn - Emperor 3 - The Field of Swords" - читать интересную книгу автора (Iggulden Conn)

The army of Ariovistus began to be compressed against the river. Without the extraordinarii and the Aedui, Julius knew they could have overwhelmed the Romans, but though they hammered the flanks again and again, the legions continued their advance, killing anything that faced them.
The banks of the Rhine seethed with men and horses as they risked their lives to cross against the current. The great river was almost a hundred yards wide and those without mounts to cling to were swept away and drowned. Julius could see tiny fishing boats crammed with desperate men and watched as one of them overturned, the dark bobbing heads of the Suebi disappearing under the water.
On the left flank, a thousand of the enemy threw down their arms and surrendered to the Ariminum legions they had failed to break. Julius pushed on with his Tenth until they were standing on the banks of the river, looking at the mass of drowning men that choked the water from his side right to the deepest center. Those of the Tenth who had been able to salvage or keep their spears threw them at the men in the water, and Julius saw many struck in that way, slipping beneath the surface with no more than a single cry.
On the far bank, Julius saw a boat make it into the shallows and watched as the figure of Ariovistus climbed out and collapsed onto his knees for a moment.
"Ciro!" Julius called, his voice echoing as the name went back into the ranks of the Tenth, producing the powerful figure of the legionary, still panting with the strain of the battle. Julius handed him a single spear and pointed to the figure on the far bank.
"Can you reach him?"
Ciro hefted the spear in his hand. The soldiers around him stood back to give him room as he stared across the wide river.
"Quickly, before he rises," Julius snapped.
Ciro took five steps back and then ran forward, heaving the spear into the air. The men of the Tenth watched it in fascination as it rose high into the sun and then fell.
Ariovistus stood to face the Romans on the far bank and never saw it. The spear hammered him off his feet, puncturing his leather armor over the stomach. The king flailed limply as the survivors of his bodyguard dragged him into the trees.
After a moment of awed silence, the legions cheered themselves hoarse. Ciro raised a single arm to them in salute and grinned as Julius clapped him on the back.
"A hero's throw, Ciro. By the gods, I have never seen a finer. Hercules himself could not have done better." Julius roared his triumph with the others then and felt the exultation that comes from victory, when the blood seemed to rush like fire through the veins and tired muscles surged with fresh strength.
"My glorious Tenth!" Julius shouted to them. "My brothers! Is there anything you cannot achieve? You, Belinus, I saw you strike down three of the warriors in the line. You, Regulus, you gathered in your century when poor Decidas fell. You will do him honor when you wear his plume."
One by one, he called the names of the men who were with him, praising their courage. He had missed nothing of the day's fighting, and they stood tall as his gaze swept the faces of his men. The other legions came closer to hear him and he could feel their pride and pleasure. He raised his voice to carry as far as it could.
"What can we not achieve, after this?" They cheered the words. "We are the sons of Rome and I tell you this land will be ours! Every man who has fought for me will have land and gold and slaves to work it for him. You will be the new nobilitas of Rome and drink wine good enough to make you weep. I swear it before you all, on my honor. I swear it as consul. I swear it as Rome in Gaul."
Julius reached down into the churned mud of the riverbank, mixed with the blood of the Suebi. He pulled up a handful and held it up to the assembled men.
"You see this clay? This bloody clay I hold? I say it is yours. It belongs to my city as much as the chariot races or the markets. Take it up, hold it in your hands. Can you not feel it?"
He watched with wild pleasure as the legions copied his action, joking and laughing as they did so. They grinned at him as they held up their pieces of the land, and Julius squeezed his fist closed, so that the clay dripped from between his fingers.
"I may never go home," he whispered. "This is my time. This is my path."

CHAPTER 30

Tabbic and Alexandria wrapped their cloaks tight against the cold as they approached the locked door of the shop. The streets were rimed with dirty ice, making every step a danger. Alexandria held on to Tabbic's arm to help steady them both. Her two guards made their habitual inspection of the area as Tabbic pushed his key into the lock and swore under his breath when it jammed. All around them, the workers of Rome went to their jobs and shops, and one or two nodded stiffly to Alexandria as they passed, miserable in the biting wind.
"Lock's frozen," Tabbic said, pulling out the key and thumping his fist against the ornate doorplate.
Alexandria rubbed her arms while she waited, knowing better than to offer advice. Tabbic may have been an irritable old man, but he had made the lock himself and if anyone could open it, he could. While she tried to ignore the wind, Tabbic reached for his jewelry tools and used a tiny pick to clear the ice. When that failed, he tried a few drops of oil and pressed one hand after another against the metal in an attempt to warm the mechanism, blowing on his fingers as they froze on contact.
"There she goes," he said as the lock clicked at last and the door swung open to reveal the dark recesses of the workshop.
Alexandria's teeth chattered and her hands shook. It would be some time before she was warm enough to attempt any fine work, and as usual she wished Tabbic would employ a slave to come in early and light the forge for them. He wouldn't hear of it. He had never owned slaves and had been irritated at Alexandria's suggestion, saying she of all people should know better.
If that hadn't been enough, it was even possible that the slave would be provided by one of the gangs and all their precious stock would disappear into the coffers of Clodius or Milo. The same reason prevented them from hiring a night guard, and Alexandria was thankful every morning when they found the shop untouched. For all Tabbic's traps and locks, they had been lucky so far. At least it wouldn't be long before they completed the purchase of a spacious new place in an area less troubled by the raptores. Tabbic had agreed to that at last, if only to fill the large orders that were the backbone of their business.
Tabbic hurried over to light the forge and Alexandria shut the door securely against the wind, unclenching her stiff fingers in something like ecstasy.
"We'll be going, then, mistress," Teddus said.
As always after the morning walk to the shop, his leg was barely holding him and Alexandria shook her head. Teddus never changed from one morning to the next, and though she had never sent him straight back into the cold, he still gave her the opportunity.
"Not until you have something hot inside you," she said firmly.
He was a good man, though his son might as well have been mute for all the interest he took in those he guarded with his father. In the mornings, he was particularly sullen.
They could all hear the welcome crackle of the spills and wood chippings in the furnace as Tabbic nursed it into life. With the great iron block to warm them, the shop needed no other fire. Alexandria broke the ice on a water bucket she had filled the day before and poured it into the old iron kettle Tabbic had made in that same forge. The routine was comforting and the three men with her began to relax as the room temperature eased above freezing.
Alexandria was startled when the door opened behind them.
"Come back later," she called, then fell silent as three hard-looking men entered the confined space and carefully shut the door behind them.
"I hope we won't have to," the first said.
He was a typical product of the back alleys of Rome. Too cunning to be interested in the legions and too vicious for any sort of normal work. Alexandria realized she could smell him, an unwashed stale reek that made her want to take a step back. The man grinned at her, revealing dark yellow teeth in shriveled gums. He didn't have to go on for her to know he was one of the raptores who clustered under Clodius or Milo. The shop owners in the area told terrible tales of their threats and violence, and Alexandria found herself hoping Teddus would not provoke them. The leering menace of the men made her face the truth that her guard was just too old for his sort of work.
"We're closed," Tabbic said behind her.
Alexandria heard a faint clink as he picked up some sort of tool. She didn't look round, but the eyes of the intruders fastened on him. The leader snorted contemptuously.
"Not to us, old man. Unless you want to be closed to everyone else," he said.
Alexandria hated him for his knowing arrogance. He built and made nothing, but still seemed to think he had the right to enter the shops and homes of hardworking people and make them afraid.
"What do you want?" Tabbic asked.
The leader of the three scratched his neck and examined what he found there before cracking something dark between his nails.
"I want your tithe, old man. This street isn't safe unless you pay your tithe. Eighty sesterces a month and nothing will happen. No one will be beaten as they walk home. Nothing valuable will be burnt." He paused and winked at Alexandria. "No one will be dragged into an alleyway and raped. We'll keep you safe."
"You filth!" Tabbic shouted. "How dare you come into my shop with your threats? Get out now, or I will call the guards. Take your grinning friends with you!"
The three men looked bored at the outburst.
"Come on, old man," the first said, rolling his massive shoulders. "See what I'll give you if you don't put that hammer down. Or perhaps the lad? I'll do him here in front of you, if you want. Either way, I'm not leaving until I have your first month's payment. Clodius don't like those who make a fuss, and this street is his now. Better just to pay what you owe and be left in peace." He chuckled and the sound made Alexandria shudder. "The trick is not to think of it as your money. It's just another city tax."
"I pay my taxes!" Tabbic roared. He waved a heavy hammer in the man's direction, making him flinch. The other two behind him shuffled in closer, and Alexandria could see knives in their belts.
Teddus drew his short gladius in one sweeping movement, and the atmosphere in the shop changed. All three of the men produced their knives, but Teddus held the sword with a wrist stronger than his lame leg. Alexandria could see the irritation in the leader's face. None of them looked round as Teddus's son drew his own dagger and held it. The younger man was nothing like the threat of his father, and the leader of the raptores knew it. More importantly, he knew he would either have to kill the swordsman or leave.