Free The Silver Eagle by Ben Kane Page B

using round-bodied or triangular cutting needles. Romulus had seen the haruspex use many of the metal tools before, operating on the injuries of soldiers with great success. Although skilful in their own right, the legion’s few surviving surgeons had been amazed.
    Beneath Tarquinius’ healing hands, men who would normally have died had not. Torn arteries were tied off, preventing death through blood loss. Tendons were carefully repaired, restoring function to useless limbs and toes. After the scalp had been lifted, even a man’s skull could be sawn open to allow the removal of a blood clot on the brain’s surface. According to Tarquinius, the keys to success were an expert knowledge of anatomy, and absolute cleanliness. Such surgery fascinated Romulus and he moved closer to watch. This challenge would surely test his friend’s abilities to the limit. Compared to the relatively clean wounds inflicted by the razor-sharp blades of spears and gladii , those made by the arrows were ragged and contaminated with scythicon .
    Pacorus was already halfway to Hades.
    Fully aware of the mountainous task facing him, Tarquinius looked at the figure on the altar and bent his head, once. Mithras, help me once more!
    The significance of the gesture was not lost on Romulus.
    Felix’ face changed as Tarquinius prepared to begin. ‘Time to get warm,’ the little Gaul muttered, sitting down by the fire with a sigh. Few men chose to witness such gory work.
    Romulus and Brennus did not move.
    ‘Hold his arms,’ said Tarquinius briskly. ‘He might wake up. This really stings.’ Pulling the cork stopper from a small flask with his teeth, he poured some strong-smelling liquid on to a piece of clean cloth.
    ‘ Acetum ?’ asked Romulus.
    Tarquinius inclined his head. ‘Vinegar is excellent at preventing blood poisoning.’
    They watched him gently clean the wounds; Pacorus did not even stir.
    The haruspex tackled Pacorus’ arm first. Slicing either side of the wooden shaft, he used a metal probe to free the barbed arrow head. Any bleeding was stopped with special clamps and then tied off with gut. Following this, the muscles were closed in layers. Pacorus’ leg was treated similarly. It was the chest wound that took the most effort, however. Gripping special retractors, Tarquinius pried apart two ribs to allow withdrawal of the arrow. Closing this wound was an urgent process, he explained. If too much air leaked into Pacorus’ chest cavity he would die. As Romulus watched, his understanding grew. Keen to learn more, he questioned Tarquinius closely about his techniques.
    ‘You should have seen enough by now,’ the haruspex pronounced with a sigh. ‘The next test will be for you to operate on an injured soldier.’
    Romulus flinched at the prospect. To dress a wound in the midst of combat was one thing, but this was another.
    ‘There’ll be plenty of casualties in the future,’ said Tarquinius shrewdly. ‘I can never treat them all.’
    Romulus nodded in acknowledgement. It was brutal but true. As Romulus had witnessed himself, the haruspex treated only those whom he had a chance of saving. Very seriously wounded legionaries were often left to die. If they were lucky, they received a draught of mandrake or the painkilling papaverum to help them on their way, but most died screaming in agony. Any attempt to save their lives by him, however inexperienced, would be better than the lingering hell they currently endured. Determination filled Romulus to soak up all the medical information he could.
    At last the prolonged surgery finished. Muttering under his breath, Tarquinius produced a tiny bag, allowing a faint dusting of powder from it to fall over the Parthian’s wounds. The falling particles smelt strong and musty.
    ‘I haven’t seen you use that before,’ commented Romulus curiously.
    ‘Some call it mantar ,’ the haruspex answered, tying up the pouch. ‘Few even know of it; I’ve only come across it once, in Egypt.’