Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 05] Revolt of the Red Witch Page 12

  When the first hint of a lightening of the sky appeared in the east the three men tied their horses securely to the tree. The last thing they needed was to make good their escape from the camp only to find their horses gone. Gaelwyn and Gaius just had their swords and daggers. Macro had his bow. They halted at the edge of the wood and looked over to the gate guarded by a single sentry. There was no bar on the gate it could be opened from the inside or the outside, the sentry was the barrier. The three of them made sure that there were no other guards and then Gaelwyn nodded to Macro. He pulled back the bow and aimed for the guard’s neck. At only forty paces distance Macro was confident he could make the killing blow. Gaius and Gaelwyn were poised for the arrow’s flight. As soon as it struck they ran but the man fell silently in a heap with no more noise than a loud sigh. The early dawn was still as silent as could be. Even the early morning birds had yet to make their dawn chorus. Macro easily dragged the body off while Gaius and Gaelwyn opened the gate slowly and peered in. They had to pass between two other huts before they reached Ailis’ and Gaelwyn had warned Gaius that there were guards in the others. Gaelwyn had not seen any dogs but that was the one problem they had no solution to. They could hear the men snoring as they moved alongside the first and second huts but no-one stirred. They glanced back to see Macro with his bow notched, the smiling face nodding.

  Gaelwyn opened the door and the two men slipped inside. They were so silent that none of the sleepers moved. Gaius went to Ailis and putting his hand over her mouth awoke her. The shock turned to joy as she saw her husband. He put his finger to his mouth and she nodded. He point to her and then Marcus, to himself and Decius and to Gaelwyn and Macro’s son, Decius. When he knew she understood the three of them put their hands over their child’s mouth and lifted them. Still no-one else had stirred. The two men knew that the hard part would be when they crept, hopefully unseen, into the settlement where every warrior was an enemy and every sound a weapon.

  As they moved quickly through the huts they kept their eye on Macro for he would be the first sign that there was danger. They almost breathed a collective sigh of relief when they passed Macro but Gaelwyn kept them moving into the woods. Once they reached the horses they quickly mounted. The three boys were so shocked and delighted with the appearance of the friendly faces that they uttered not a sound. Macro was about to join them when the sentry’s relief came out of his hut; Gaelwyn had watched on previous nights and this was earlier than before. Was their good fortune deserting them? Macro waved Gaelwyn off and the three adults rode away leaving Macro’s horse tied up. They had had this as a back up plan for Macro would be able to move quicker on his own than the others with children. He calmly watched as the new sentry walked to the ramparts and relieved himself. When he had finished he looked curiously towards the open gate. Macro could almost see the thoughts and questions racing through the man’s mind; where was the sentry and why was the gate open? The arrow flew straight and true towards the man’s throat but as he was turning to shout for his comrade the arrow caught him in the shoulder did not kill him instantly. He fell with a soft cry.

  “Shit!” Macro murmured. They would be on to them as soon as they came to. He raced for his horse and swiftly mounted. Rather than following the others he waited, another arrow notched. The first hut erupted with armed yet sleepy men wondering what had awoken them. The first warrior saw the body of the second guard with the arrow still in his neck and suddenly the alarm was raised. He gave an enormous shout which made even Gaelwyn and the others turn as they fled the scene. The powerful Roman watched to see who gave orders and as an old grey haired warrior shouted something Macro’s arrow hit him in the side of the head. The rest dropped to the floor but not before Macro had sent another one to the Allfather. Rather than racing away Macro walked his horse backwards through the woods. The warriors inside did not know how many men were outside and they came out cautiously, peering into the forest which was becoming lighter to see if they could see who had attacked them. When they found the second body in the edge of the forest more men emerged and they began to fan out in the woods. Realising that another arrow would show them the direction he had taken Macro took off down the trail carefully avoiding the deadfalls and traps.

  The other three had made good time for Gaelwyn was very familiar with the route and Macro only caught up with them when they had turned west. “Keep going!” Macro put one huge hand out and swept Decius on to his horse. “Did you think I wouldn’t come for you son?”

  “I kept telling them; I knew you would come for me.”

  The Decurion gripped him tightly to his chest, tears of joy in his eyes; he had never felt such love in his life. He now knew that what he had felt for Morwenna, the boy’s mother was lust and this was love. He knew that he would do anything to save the boy who, he realised, was the single most important thing in his life. All that he had held important, comradeship, honour, fighting, Rome, all was meaningless against the life and future of his son.

  Morwenna held counsel with Aodh and her chiefs. “We should attack tonight!”

  “Yes Parthalan that makes sense now that they have reinforced the fortress.”

  “Ownie do not use that tone with me or we will settle our differences with blades.”

  “Any time you wish I am ready.”

  “Enough!” Morwenna’s voice silenced them in an instant. This bickering would get them nowhere. “Aodh’s scouts have reported the Roman legion less than a day away. When they arrive we will be caught between two forces that can destroy our warriors.”

  “My men are not afraid.”

  “I know Parthalan but we do not need to waste warrior’s lives uselessly. My old chief, Lulach taught me that. Make the enemy bleed, not your own warriors.”

  “Aodh is correct and we did make them bleed today. Look at how many of their horse warriors lie dead. That was the force we feared. Our warriors are swift enough to evade the legions which are slow and ponderous.”

  “You are suggesting what then, oh Queen.” Colla’s voice was less confident than it had been. He had been shocked at the casualties they had suffered. He had thought that the numbers of warriors they had would ensure an easy victory. The tenacious Romans had fought far harder than he remembered from his youth.

  “We leave Eboracum.” There was a stunned silence.

  “After all the warriors we lost we just turn tail and run back to our homes to await the vengeance of the Romans!”

  “No Parthalan. We do not run away; we do what we set out to do we remove the Romans from our land. Eboracum is but one town. They have taken troops to fortify this symbol of Roman power from many towns which now lie defenceless. They have people living in them who just need convincing to join with us. When the Roman legion arrives at Eboracum they will spend time rebuilding. In that time we can raise an army twice as big as the one we now have and we can lure the enemy to a battlefield of our choosing and there we can destroy him. You are right Parthalan, the enemy will think we have gone home but they do not know who they fight.”

  Mollified and intrigued, he asked, “Then what do we do?”

  “We divide the army into four. We go north, east, south and west to raise more recruits.”

  “What if they do not wish to join us?” The dissenting voice of Colla warned Morwenna that he was unreliable.

  “Then they die.” Her ice cold voice chilled the old chief. “Parthalan you take the south. The legion will be in Lindum and they will not expect us to travel in that direction. If you avoid the Roman road you will avoid any reinforcements they are sending. Take your warriors as far as Lindum if needs be. We must make them fear us. We must make them wonder where we will strike next. Colla take yours west, that is land familiar to you and you can control the land to the sea. Ownie destroy all that lies to the east, especially their signal stations which they will need to use. We will head north to Morbium for Aodh and I know the area well.”

  “How will we keep each other informed?”

 
“Aodh has ten trusted messengers and he has trained them well. They are mounted on the finest horses we have captured. Use them to send messages to me and I will pass my orders by them to you.”

  The three Brigante chiefs noticed the word, orders. Although they were disappointed with the campaign so far they still respected her as a sorceress and the women who now followed her was nearly as great an army as the men. They would all follow her, for the moment.

  When they were alone and the camp was being packed up Morwenna surprised Aodh by telling him that she believed her chiefs were less committed. “Then it is over?”

  Smiling that secret smile she had she said, “No. It has just begun. You did not think that one battle would win the war did you? Your leader Lulach showed that. The Roman beast is powerful, like a mighty boar. One spear will not kill him. He needs bleeding and slowing down for a wounded Rome is dangerous and, like the hunter we must attack and withdraw, attack and withdraw; each time bleeding him a little more. I do not doubt, my dear Aodh, that your countrymen will take advantage of this revolt and will also come south. They too will bleed the beast.”

  “That is why you chose north!”

  “It is why I chose north so that, if he does come south then I can meet with him and we can join forces. If the chiefs are less than reliable, it will not hurt us in the long run. Parthalan and Ownie are good leaders but they are young and ambitious. They may do much harm and they may kill many Romans but, inevitably, they will fall.”

  “And Colla?”

  “He will hide in his home but we have sown enough seeds amongst his clan to ensure that someone in his home will want to lead. They will be our reserve.”

  Aodh looked in admiration at his queen, his woman. “You have planned and thought all of this out yourself.”

  “I had a good teacher. Luigsech spent long nights in darkest winter when the blanket of snow and cold trapped us in our cave, telling me of how the wars had been fought and the mistakes people had made. She made me realise that women are often underestimated. The women of Brigantia will follow me and, as you know my love, men will do anything for the women in their life.” The two acolytes giggled as Aodh reddened and left.

  Gaelwyn urged them on even harder once they were on the north west leg of the journey. They had not laid traps for they wanted to sow confusion and wariness for their pursuers. If the enemy could not find their trail quickly then they might escape. The carefully crafted route took them across every stream and river that they could. Each stream they crossed they went either up or down stream to throw off their pursuers.

  Ailis gripped Decius tightly to her chest. She had never given up hope of rescue but, the further north they had travelled, the less hopeful she had become. She knew that, were it not for the children she would have taken her own life for she had been a captive of the cruel Caledonii once before and death was preferable. She glanced over her shoulder to her husband also clinging on tightly to their young son Marcus. He looked older and greyer and yet it had only been a few weeks that they had been apart. She had had it hard but she could see that he had suffered almost as much.

  Gaius was more afraid, as they raced as safely as they could through the heavy woods, than he had been so far. They were tantalisingly close to escape. The boat had been a stroke of genius and confirmed, in Gaius’ mind, the brilliance of the Tribune. Once at sea they were free and they could escape no matter how perilous the sea was it was nothing compared with the barbarians now pursuing them. His fear was that they would catch them or even anticipate their route and be awaiting them on the beach. To have his sons and wife back was joyous but to have them and then have them snatched away would be cruel beyond measure. He prayed that the Allfather was watching over them.

  Chapter 10

  “Sir!”

  It seemed to Prefect Julius Demetrius that he had only just fallen asleep when he felt the hand of the trooper shaking him. “Yes what is it?

  “Decurion Princeps compliments Sir but it is dawn and the Brigante have gone.”

  He jumped up, almost colliding with the startled sentry. “What? How? When?”

  “There was a fog in the night Sir and with the rising waters and the bit of smoke left from the fires the guards didn’t see anything and then when the sun came up, well they was gone. All of them. Men women, wagons, all gone.”

  “Tell the Decurion Princeps to stand the men to.”

  By the time he had put his armour on and left the tent the ala was standing ready to ride. “Well Salvius this is as, Decius might have said, a bit of a bugger.”

  Cilo smiled at the remembrance, “He would to and he would have been right as well. They must have left soon after dark. I have sent a patrol around to the southern gate and they report they are gone from there. The Legate asked if you would go into the fortress for a meeting.”

  “Right. Well send out the turmae…”

  “We only have three Decurions left Sir.”

  “Of course. Divide the remaining ala into three turmae. Livius is south so send them north, east and west. All they need to do is to find where they are, no engaging. Clear Salvius?”

  “Clear. I don’t think either the men or the mounts are in any condition to engage.”

  “Neither do I but there is no one else to do this is there? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  It felt strange to watch what remained of the ala ride away without him but he knew that a meeting with the Legate was vital if they were to take advantage of this strange withdrawal of their foes.

  Riding through the main gate Julius could see the devastation caused by the attack. The fire and the floods had damaged so much of the fortress that the Prefect could see it would need to be rebuilt. Many of the troops in the fort would be engineers before they were soldiers again. He nodded to the Batavian Centurion who was leading his men to destroy the half built dam. “I think we came just in time Prefect.”

  “You are right a longer delay might have seen it destroyed.”

  The Centurion pointed south to the battlefield. “Your lads did well yesterday. Did you lose many?”

  “Too many Centurion and too many who were irreplaceable.”

  The Legate came down the smoke blackened stairs of the headquarters building his arms outstretched. “Thank you Prefect. Your timely arrival yesterday saved the day.”

  Vibius Scaeva patted Julius on the shoulder. “I have never seen a more magnificent charge. Two hundred against thousands! Magnificent!”

  “Thank you Sir but it cost us half my men and today we could have done with those men to find where the rebels have gone.”

  The Legate looked at Julius. “They have gone home of course. It is over.”

  Shaking his head firmly Julius said, “They haven’t. You do not know the Brigante. They have a wise head this time, not a hot head like Venutius. This leader is more like Aed and Maeve were far more thoughtful. The attack at Cataractonium showed that. No they left because they knew the Ninth was on its way. If my little cavalry attack could hinder their attack they knew that the Ninth would make mincemeat of them. They have gone elsewhere to make more mischief. This is a large country and there are many settlements and towns. I think they want to raise them all against us.”

  “I think you are giving that woman too much credit.”

  A sudden chill ran down Julius’ spine and a sense of dread filled him. “A woman? Which woman?”

  “We caught a prisoner and, after torture he told us that the Brigante chiefs were led by a sorceress the daughter of that Aed chap you mentioned and a witch called…”

  “Fainch! Then it is Morwenna.”

  The Legate and the garrison commander were both astounded. “How did you know?”

  “She infiltrated the ala a few years ago and murdered the Camp Prefect at Coriosopitum, Decius Flavius. She is an evil and powerful woman. If she leads this army than I can guarantee that it is not over and will not be over until she is on a cross or burned.”

  The Legate was taken a
back by the venom of the Prefect’s words and he no longer doubted them. “But where will they go?”

  “I do not know but my turmae are seeking them. She will do all in her considerable power to end Roman rule. At least we now know whom we seek. Would that the Tribune was here.”

  “The Tribune?”

  “Tribune Marcus Maximunius. He was the one who caught and killed her mother and also helped to defeat Calgathus.”

  Vibius said, “I have heard of him. I was a Centurion under Decius Brutus and met him once. He is a good man. Where is he?”

  “He has gone north to rescue his family from the Caledonii.”

  “Then he is dead.”

  “No commander. He is still alive, I can feel it. He is a hard man to kill as are his two companions. And now I must rejoin my men for they will need to know the news. It will anger them even more than the loss yesterday.”

  As Julius was leaving he heard his name being called. When he turned he saw Livius leading his exhausted men into the fortress. “Sir, the Ninth are an hour behind us.”

  “Good, tell the Legate and then we will ride.”

  “But Sir my men…”

  “The Brigante are led by Morwenna!”

  His face hardening Livius said, “We will be right there then Sir.”

  There was barely a half cohort at Morbium but the Centurion was an old frontier hand. He had been at the fort, whilst still in the ranks, when the Caledonii had tried to take it and he had fought with his back to the wall expecting to die. Centurion Decimus Murena felt that every day he had been alive since then had been a bonus. That said he had no intention of having his testicles taken as a souvenir by any rebel whether Caledonii or Brigante. He had barred the bridge. It was a crude barrier and could be removed by determined men but they would have to do so whilst under a barrage of arrows from the fort. In addition he had placed oil soaked rags within the barricade for he remembered the inferno which had burned and killed so many the last time the barbarians had tried to take the fort and the bridge. The banks of the river had been cleared of undergrowth and he had dragged the bottom to make it flow as swiftly as possible. The ditches were doubled and deeper than they had been. His garrison was pulling double shifts, four hours on and four hours off. He had impressed upon them the need for vigilance. “If you don’t recognise the man who comes up that road, or the way he sounds! Kill the bastard! They are my orders!” Whenever the rest of the garrison and Marcus’ Horse returned they would find that this crossing had been denied their enemies.