Thank you for carrying on.
They marched. Finding the Volscian camp was not difficult, every man in it had come swarming down to the gates of Rome hours before, making no effort to hide their tracks. The Volscians saw them coming maybe two stadia away. Some men were trying to rally what was left of the force, gathering them in to groups, but everywhere Volscians were breaking rank, they were running. Quintus could hear the Volscian leaders bellowing at their men to stand, but to little or no avail. General Cominus laughed coldly.
"Form up lads, staggered blocks, equites on the right flank. The winds are with us this time. Show them how Romans fight best." Quintus stepped back in to formation. He wasn't afraid this time. He'd been fighting in blind terror all day, but not this time. The Volscians could not stand this time. "Forward march." General Cominus barked.
By the time they reached the outskirts of the collapsing camp, almost every single Volscian had run like the beasts they were.
"Search in your Tent parties." General Cominus shouted. "Not alone. And remember; Bring Caius Martius Coriolanus back alive." Varrus whistled at what remained of his men and led them off.
"Not so brave now, are they?" Matellus muttered. Quintus grinned. Varrus pointed them at the entrance to one of the tents that was still standing. They formed up and breached the doorway.
There wasn't much to salvage, as it turned out. The tents had been stripped of anything valuable, and Quintus privately doubted the Volscians had had much anyway. Once or twice they ran in to a knot of Volscians who'd decided to fight to the death where they stood, rather than flee and be run down by the equites. They weren't difficult to dispatch either way. As they penetrated further in to the camp, they began to see farm buildings; pillaged grain sheds, cattle housing, a pigsty. A great, ancient looking barn stood before them. Varrus pointed to it and the four of them formed to a solid line, protecting each other. It looked a likely bolthole for what was left of the Volscian army to Quintus, but they'd been easy to kill so far.
"Ready?" Varrus breathed.
"Ready." The rest of them hissed back. They threw their shields, and the full weight of their bodies behind them, against the doors. They weren't barred. The four men staggered forwards in to the gloom.
"Urgh." Flavius raised his shield for a moment, as though to hold his nose. The building stank of blood and death. They could not see a thing inside it. None of them dared move until their eyes had adjusted. "What died in here?" Volscian standards hung on poles here and there, a solid wooden table lay before them. Something else, more substantial than a standard, hung in the middle of the barn, suspended a pes or two above the ground. They crept forwards, eyes still adjusting to the darkness. The thing hanging in the middle of the room was suspended by a chain slung over a beam in the roof.
"That did." Quintus said, gesturing at it. "It's got limbs and a trunk. It's a body of some sort."
"A sacrifice?" Matellus asked.
"No. Not any sort of sacrifice we'd make anyway." Varrus said, disgust colouring his voice. "It's a man, a man hanging by his feet. No beast's forelegs hang like that." Varrus took a deep breath, broke the line and paced forwards to the body, stopping maybe three pes back and crouching down to look at the corpse's head. "Volscian armour, covered in bl- Pluto's…" Varrus didn't even finish the curse. "Someone else look at this, tell me I'm not going mad." Quintus stepped forward, wondering what on earth he was about to see. Varrus turned the body so its sightless eyes were turned on Quintus. He just stared at it, slack jawed, disbelieving. "Caius Martius Coriolanus." Varrus said, looking up at Quintus. "Isn't he?" Quintus nodded. The corpse's throat was slit, from ear to ear, gaping wide. Blood had clotted over his jaw, run down his face in places. His mouth was part open, eyes not quite closed.
"They sacrificed him?" Matellus asked.
"Why would you?" Varrus asked. "That'd be like killing your best bull at the start of summer. He's a General of legend. He shattered them at Corioles, we thought he'd shatter us at Rome. He's valuable, far too valuable to kill out of hand."
"They killed him for failing then?" Quintus suggested. "His attack didn't work, they didn't break through our ranks, so they killed him." Varrus shook his head again.
"He's cold as stone and stiff as it too. He's been dead all day at least, and all this blood's dry. He was dead when the attack started."
"That's a nonsense then." Matellus said. " They didn't sacrifice him, they didn't kill him for failing, but he's dead."
"Suicide?" Quintus offered.
"How in Pluto would you cut your own throat hanging by your feet?" Flavius asked. "If you were trying to kill yourself and you had a knife, you wouldn't bother hanging yourself up like that?"
"Maybe they hung him up after he'd done it." Quintus suggested. Varrus shook his head.
"He died here, look at the blood. It must be all that he had in him, or nearly. And he stiffened hanging like this." He prodded Caius Martius Coriolanus in the armpit. He swung rigidly for a moment.
"My mother used to kill chickens that way." Flavius said quietly. "Hang them by their feet, get one of us to hold the head still and cut the neck. Gets all the blood out of the meat." Quintus felt himself pale slightly. He was a Legionnaire of Rome. His stomach would not be turned by blood. But there was something about a man being killed like a bird, even a man like Caius Martius Coriolanus, the traitorous beast who'd tried to sell Rome to Barbarians. Even the man who'd scaled the walls of Corioles alone, broken through their garrison, come back running with Volscian blood and been hailed as a hero. No one spoke for a minute.
"We should get General Cominus." Varrus broke the silence. "Matellus, Flavius, go. Quintus, stay here with me." Matellus and Flavius hurried off, leaving Quintus and Varrus in silence. Quintus felt himself trying to look anywhere but at the rigid, bloodless corpse.
"What do you think happened then?" He asked Varrus when he could bear it no longer. Varrus shook his head, standing up again.
"I don't know. I don't know that we'll ever know what happened here. It'd be a fine tale if we knew it, Caius Martius never seemed to do anything without giving people a tale to tell."
"Who do you think killed him?"
"Volscians. There's no doubt of that. If we'd sent someone to do it, they'd have told us. I'd have been less scared in that fight for knowing Caius Martius was dead."
"Why would they have killed him? You said yourself he was too valuable." Varrus shook his head again.
"I don't know."
A shadow passed the door. Quintus and Varrus snapped to attention. General Cominus was striding towards them, breathing hard.
"Is this him?"
"Yessir." Varrus said. General Cominus grabbed Caius Martius Coriolanus by the hip and turned him so his face was towards the light, and the gaping hole in his neck beneath. He crouched and lifted the body's face towards his own, staring in to the lifeless eyes.
"Caius Martius." He breathed. "And see what's become of you." He released Caius Martius Coriolanus's head and straightened. "He's been dead a fair while."
"Yessir." Varrus agreed. "Since before the attack began. We think it must have been the Volscians that-" General Cominus held up a hand to silence Varrus.
"What does it matter who dealt the blow? He lived a traitor and he died a traitor's death. Let him down." The four Legionnaires looked around for what the chain could be attached to. Matellus got there first; a hook in the wall, a scythe still hanging from it. He pulled the chain free and lowered the rigid body to the floor. General Cominus stood looking at the body for a long moment. "Caius Martius Coriolanus." He said eventually, his voice low and shaking. "The four of you go and find something to make a litter to bear him back to Rome. You'll be rewarded for finding the traitor." Quintus followed Varrus out, leaving General Cominus alone with the body of Caius Martius Coriolanus.
The General pulled his plumed helmet from his head and tucked it under his arm. He sighed heavily and knelt down beside the body. He grasped it by the shoulder and rolled it on to its back. He reached to try and close the eyes, but the stiffness of death had taken even those.
"Oh Caius." The General breathed. "Traitor, hero, General, you might have been a Consul. What happened to you? They'll leave you to be spat at like a murderer in the square. What will I say to your mother? Mars protect me, I fear her wrath more than that of most Volscians. Oh Juna, Caius, your family. Rome won't be kind to them now. You loved them. I know you did. But you can't shelter them now. They'll be killed; Volumnia, Virgilia, your boy…" The General sighed again and lifted a hand to his eyes. "I'll guard the boy. I can take him in among mine. They'll forget he was ever yours soon enough. I don't know what I can do for the women." The General drew a short, gasping breath. "Why did you do it, Caius? You're a traitor now, you'll be sport for crows by sundown. I can do nothing for you. I can't even leave you here to rot, you wouldn't be further shamed at least, but I have my orders, as we soldiers always do. We are never our own men. You saved my life and my name more times than I can remember. I doubt I'll see another soldier like you in my lifetime. And I must call you a traitor now until the end of my days." The General rose and stood silently over the body for a long moment. "For the last time then." He stood to attention. "Caius Martius Coriolanus. General and Hero of Rome."