The Siege by Nick Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

hardly deserved the name: two thick wooden doors mounted on a frame set into the wall. One door was slightly ajar.
    Simo’s horse snorted. Cassius placed his hand on his sword, concerned that the noise would alert any potential enemy inside. Noting some vulgar graffiti at the bottom of the door, he leaned round it and peered inside.
    Directly ahead was a street of sorts, separating two rows of ramshackle housing and leading through to a paved square. Beyond that were a well and a small temple.
    Checking that Simo was right behind him, Cassius gripped the edge of the door and pushed it inward. The hinges squeaked, protesting noisily until there was enough space for the horses to pass. He took four steps forward and stopped. Though no people were in view, there were a few signs of life: a line of washing hanging from a roof, a discarded sandal, a large pail in the middle of a doorway.
    Fairly sure he could hear voices coming from somewhere, Cassius swept his eyes across the compound. To the left was some kind of encampment where awnings had been strung from the houses to the southern wall. Under the awnings were assorted barrels, amphoras, blankets and several piles of clothes. There was also a well-maintained fireplace, complete with a spit and a stack of cooking pans.
    To the right was a U-shaped marketplace with stalls on three sides. Many of the stalls had been cannibalised for wood. Woven baskets of various sizes and shapes littered the ground. They were all empty.
    ‘Keep your eyes on those houses,’ Cassius told Simo, turning to look at the inside of the eastern wall. The towers were accessed through a low doorway on each side of the gatehouse. Along the remainder of the wall a number of wooden planks had been affixed five feet from the ground to form a series of rudimentary firing platforms.
    Cassius steadied himself, reminded himself of his rank and his orders and set off at a brisk pace towards the square.
    ‘Follow me, Simo.’
    Resisting the temptation to examine every potentially treacherous window, he instead pressed on until he could see the rest of the fort. The square was about sixty feet in diameter and paved by alternating grey and white tiles, many of which needed replacing.
    The building behind the well was indeed a temple, its narrow doorway framed by two spiral columns. In a larger settlement they would have been marble but these were of some lesser stone. Faded outlines and blotches of orange and red on one side suggested an abandoned attempt at decoration.
    Occupying most of the space to the left of the square was the large wooden building they had seen from outside. Its sloped roof was thatched with dried palm fronds, the supporting beams visible underneath. The manner in which the entire structure had been mounted on a series of short thick timbers confirmed it was the granary: by keeping a flow of air through the building, its contents could be better preserved and protected from vermin. At the eastern end was a wide double door. At the other end, separated from the granary by a narrow alley, was a smaller building with three half-doors: undoubtedly the stables.
    Equally recognisable was the barracks, situated to the right of the square. Like every other building except the granary, it bore the pale tones of clay brick. There were two doorways at the near end, a number of wide, low windows and a long water trough outside. It looked about the right size to house a century. A few tunics and sheets had been draped over the windows to dry, yet, once again, there was a bemusing lack of activity. At the far end of the barracks were the officers’ quarters: a small block fitted with a wooden door and a large, shuttered window. Some throwing javelins had been propped up against the shutters.
    Cassius was ready to investigate further when Simo touched his shoulder.
    ‘Sir.’
    Coaxing the horses round with him as he turned, the Gaul nodded back towards the gate. Only when Cassius had skirted around the