Chapter Nine

 

MOLACOS looked at the broken Roman and slowly removed the cult mask from his face. The weeping, agonised soldier looked up in horrified fascination at the ruined face of the thing behind the mask and quailed despite everything that had already been done to him.

‘Who will be able to answer my questions? I grow tired of interrogating Romans and my time is precious. Tell me where to go and I will grant you the mercy of a quick death and not give you to Catubodua, the avenging widow, who waits outside the door with her roll of skinning knives.’

The soldier whimpered through a face full of tears, blood and snot, and after a pause, Molacos sighed and rose, making for the door.

‘No. Wait,’ wailed the man.

‘I am listening.’

‘My legate from the Fifteenth is on his way back to Rome. Gaius Antistius Reginus. He’ll be less than a week behind me, and will be passing through Gergovia on his way. He will be able to answer your questions.’

Molacos nodded. A legate. The commander of a legion. A man of senatorial rank and one of Caesar’s own circle. A rare opportunity to interrogate such a highly-placed man. Excellent.

‘Well done, man.’

Fishing in his pouch, he produced something and dropped it on the floor in front of the ruined soldier. The man stared at it. A snare, made of some sort of sharp cord, knotted to allow it to tighten. He’s seen such things used, used them himself when hunting rabbits to supplement the legion’s rations on the march. They occasionally killed by strangulation, but more often by biting into the windpipe and blood vessels as the animal struggled.

Molacos was rising.

‘What is this?’ the soldier gasped. ‘You said you would give me a quick death!’

‘And I have. You have until I open the door to kill yourself, or Catubodua will come in and do the job for you much more slowly. I suggest you are very quick. She is literally salivating at the thought of peeling you.’

He ambled towards the door, listening to the whimpering behind him. His hand closed on the door handle, pulling it inwards and even as Catubodua, her impassive mask hiding her hungry grin, strode past, he could hear the gagging noises as the soldier tried desperately to strangle himself in time.