Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 01] The Sword of Cartimandua Read online

  One or two of the warriors looked a little unhappy at the implications of that but Orrick silenced them with a wave of his arm. “You are a warrior; you are the warrior chosen by our queen. You ride with the sword of Cartimandua. We will follow you.”

  “Good then let us get over these hills before the snows come a second time. This land appears to be in the group of some monster who makes the weather as a weapon to punish strangers such as us. I hope that the place we seek is less unpredictable. Your queen promised much. I long to see this Elysium in Britannia which holds so much hope.” He turned to the two Brigante princesses. “I still cannot persuade you to stay.”

  Lenta smiled at the word persuade for, in the week they had been back in Eboracum Ulpius had ranted, raved, bullied, pleaded and at times almost screamed to make them stay behind the safety of Eboracum’s wooden walls. Persuade had not been a word she would have chosen. They had both been resolute in their arguments and, in the end, Ulpius had seen that perhaps they were right and they would be safer away from intrigue. “No decurion princeps, we will not be persuaded besides we know the land as well as the warriors and we know the place you seek. We will not be baggage for we are Brigante and we will do our share we will help to build this shrine to the memory of our queen.”

  Nodding Ulpius turned to Marcus. “We leave as soon as the pack horses and wagon are ready. Remember it is only a handful of us who know where we are going. Let us keep it so.”

  Chapter 12

  Brocavum

  Venutius was drunk and his warriors were drunk. His official coronation had been some weeks before but the celebrations seemed to go on endlessly. He was now King Venutius even though he had been king before he had not been crowned and acclaimed by his people. This made it easier for him to summon the war host for to refuse would be refusing the king. True, there were still those who were unhappy with the death of Cartimandua but, apart from the handful still with the Romans the bulk to the Brigante supported him. He had had the acknowledgement of all the neighbouring tribes and their kings. As the king with the largest tribal area in Britannia this made Venutius the king who exerted the most influence. Secretly he was pleased that Cartimandua had betrayed Caractacus for had she not that young man would have grown to be a warrior king with a legitimate claim to be king of Britannia.

  He looked out of the gates towards the rising sun in the east, the steam from his piss rising like early morning fog. This was the time of the long nights and short days. It was a time to drink and tell tales of great deeds. His men were drunk because they believed they had freed themselves from the shackles of Rome and were following a leader who had rid himself of a tiresome, meddling woman. Venutius was drunk because he had failed. He had failed to capture and kill his queen; the poison which had killed her was on his orders but not by his hand and he had wanted to see her suffer and die. He had failed, despite what his men believed, because the Romans had not been weakened by him; they had absorbed the Brigante and now controlled much of their territory. It galled him to think that he was depending upon the Silures and Deceangli to defeat the Romans and draw off their strength. His pleasure at becoming the official king was soured by the knowledge that he had failed in his first attempt to rid his land of the Romans. He had hoped that the disarray in Rome when they had four Emperors in one year would have distracted them enough to defeat demoralised Romans. The Roman troops appeared to care more about the way they fought than who was Emperor. It was a salutatory lesson. He angrily turned back, threw his goblet to smash on the wall of the fire lit hut and his men cheered believing it to be a sign that their leader was showing his anger to his enemies when in reality it was a frustration that he had failed. He was angry with himself and with his spies. The information given to him by Fainch had proved false. He had gathered his forces near to the place the Romans called Morbium for it was not far from Stanwyck. He had prepared a trap and his men had waited through the long, dark winter nights but the Roman incursion had not taken place. He was angry with himself for, despite the fact that the information was wrong, he did not know if the Romans had tricked him just to make his men wait needlessly in the cold or if it was a ruse to draw his men away from his capital. He now knew it was not the latter for he had brought all his forces into his stronghold in case the Roman invasion came in the winter, it was unlikely but these Romans did not fight in the way of the tribes. He allowed himself a smile perhaps the information had been true and the Romans had perished in this cold northern land far away from their warm homeland.

  He staggered to his feet and, climbing over the recumbent bodies of his warriors, went to relieve himself outside his hall. The frost was hard and the air icy cold. The steam from his urine rose like smoke from a fire. The image made him picture Eboracum burning and Romans fleeing from his merciless warriors. They would be like sheep before his wolves. The thought excited him and he began to sober up almost immediately. In truth he rarely drank as much as his warriors for he knew that a drunk was senseless and therefore defenceless; he had murdered many a man whilst they were lying in an alcoholic haze. Venutius trusted no-one. It would be months before the sun began to warm the land again but he was determined not to wait rotting in an alcoholic haze. He would begin to send out patrols; it would harden his men and tell the Romans that he ruled this land and not them. He needed a base nearer to the Romans in the East. There was no danger in the west as long as the Deceangli and Silures held up the Roman behemoth and it was here where he would defeat them but he needed to create a thorn in their side, an itch which they could not scratch. Cartimandua’s capital had been ideal but it was now not only was it in Roman hands but his men had weakened it. The Roman base at Eboracum was less than half a day’s ride away; it would need much work to fortify it and they would have to fight Romans to do so. He needed somewhere new but defensible. He remembered a river and a high cliff a little further south than Stanwyck; if he built a fort there even the Roman war machine would struggle to assault it. It would not be as big as the huge fortifications at Stanwyck but it had the advantage that even the Roman siege engines would struggle to assault its high cliffs. When he had thrown back his enemies he would use that as his stronghold; there he would laugh to scorn their redoubtable war machines. He decided that, on the morrow they would begin their war against the Romans, they had drunk enough, and they had rested enough. The Carvetii would war again and they would drive the effete Romans back into the sea taking with them their baths, their perfume and their control. Britannia would be ruled again by men; Britannia would be ruled by one man, Venutius.

  West of Stanwyck

  Even as Venutius was looking eastwards Ulpius had risen early and was facing west. They had crossed the high treeless hills in the icy cold winds. It had taken many days as the line of pack horses with supplies slowed them down and the foot soldiers kept to their own pace but they had had to take routes which avoided the natives. The wagon with the princesses on board was even slower and Ulpius wondered if it might have to be discarded in favour of a faster, though less dignified pack horse. Slow and sure was not always the axiom of the cavalry but in this case it was his watchword. They had lost a few mounts and they were as cold as any could remember but they were now within sight of their goal. As the sun had set the previous evening Orrick had ridden with Ulpius and Marcus to show them the land spoken of by Cartimandua. In the distance they could see the round topped hills and steep sided valleys which Orrick told them contained vast lakes as big as seas and forests so dense a horse could not get through them. The tops of the hills were high and treeless rolling away to the west to the mighty seas spoken of by Cartimandua, the western seas leading to the ends of the earth. Ulpius was gratified to see that there were few dwellings or huts in view which meant they might just make their journey’s end unseen by the enemy. There were a few sheep and goats which appeared to perch on hillsides that threatened to tumble to the rock filled valleys below. He looked up at the grey, menacing sky which was beginning to threaten snow a
lthough that would be a discomfort it would not stop them as they were within a maximum of two marches to their destination. Orrick had said that, if they pushed hard, they would do it on one march. They were so close that Ulpius felt like gambling. Although the horses were tired they could rest them when they arrived and they would also have the security of wooden walls. His worry was that the snow would show their enemies where they had been; in itself another reason to make haste. He might exhaust men and horses but that could not be helped, as long as he had a marching camp he would be able to defend himself.

  Marcus could not help looking over his shoulder as they passed through the tight lake lined valleys. The valley twisted and turned like some mighty serpent. This was not the way Romans like to travel. They were used to straight roads with no places for ambushes. This was even worse for the high crags and rocky outcrops provided cover for ambushes all the way.

  “You will get a stiff neck if you continue to look backwards.”

  Marcus wondered how the one eyed decurion princeps could see that Marcus was so nervous. “But if there were an ambush we would be helpless. There is nowhere to run.”

  “True but we have Brigante scouts out and if you look east you will see that the only danger is not from warriors but stones dislodged by the snow and as for west, well unless our enemies can walk on water we are safe.” The lake to the west was wide and, according to Orrick deep. The hillsides on the other side looked as steep as the one to their east which reared up, towering over them like the battlements of an enormous fortress. “I tell you Marcus I am more content now than for many days. We are almost at journey’s end and we have seen no signs of life. Go speak with your woman and stop making the troop nervous.” The troopers within earshot grinned; much as they liked Marcus it was always good to see an officer put in his place by a superior.

  Marcus had to agree that it was devoid of humans. In truth there was little sign of any life. They had passed over passes from one lake filled valley to another. The valley suddenly dropped off to nothing. The forest was so thick you could have hidden a thousand warriors but spears throw from the Romans and they would have been hidden. This part of the journey had the narrowest pass and the troopers, four abreast, filled it. He turned his horse and trotted back to the middle of the column to where Macha and Lenta huddled in a wagon. Even though she was miserable Macha visibly brightened when she saw the young auxiliary approaching.

  “Are we warm enough ladies?”

  Lenta laughed a bright tinkling laugh which was infectious. “As we have blankets and furs and we are in a warm wagon I think that we are much warmer than you. “

  “The officer is being polite sister. I suspect our leader has passed the request on. We are comfortable and we do not have far to go.”

  “How far is it?”

  “No more than the time it takes Romans to put up a camp.”

  “That quick but I can see nought that is as was described.”

  “The track twists next to a little stream and then you will see the mightiest lake you have ever seen. Then we will be there.” She leaned over to whisper to Marcus who went closer. “When you have fulfilled your duties tonight I would speak with you.”

  Marcus’ face lit with joy. They had had little opportunity to talk as the sisters and the children had been together in the wagon. Marcus rode back to Ulpius with a lighter heart.

  “We are not far away.”

  “I know the scouts have returned.”Ulpius gestured to their left where there was a large natural mound. We will put a small fort there. It will give us warning of an enemy. Orrick has ridden ahead with the Brigante to guard the site. We are very close.” Marcus looked over and saw what Ulpius meant. A thousand paces away the hillside climbed steeply away with thick woods covering its lower slopes. The land before it was a sloping bare plain with a huge column of rock reaching up half way as high as the hillside. It had a steep northern slope and a gentler southern slope. He could imagine that a tower would enable a sentry to see almost the whole of the lower lake. A good place for an outpost and a further sign that the omens were auspicious.

  Years later Marcus could still remember with vivid clarity the first time he saw the site of the fort they would call Glanibanta. He was totally unprepared for the place. They rode through rocky ground and suddenly found themselves in the open at a promontory surrounded on three sides by water. It was as though an engineer had measured a fort and made the promontory to fit the fort and not the other way around. The ground was perfect and was a horse’s height above the water. Two rocky streams tumbled a fort’s width apart making a frontal assault the only option for an attacking force. Marcus looked at Ulpius who, for the first time in a long time, smiled and nodded. “This will do Marcus, this will do. This is a stronghold, a cohort of legionaries could hold off the whole of the Carvetii.”

  The senior centurion of the legionaries set to work as soon as they arrived. The marching camp would be the size of the fort and work could begin to build the fort straight away. There was little snow at the site and the ground was not as frozen as they might have expected. Decius Brutus and his legionaries had much experience in building marching camps but this was the first time they had built a fort. The Roman army trained its men well and every centurion had the plans in his head and with his legionaries the men to build. Already the flags and stakes were in place as the engineers detailed to lay it out paced the area which would become the vexillation fort.

  While the legionaries began to dig the ditches Ulpius detailed Marcus to send out two turmae around the lake, east and west to scout for potential enemies and other places to build fortifications. He conferred with the legionaries to ensure that there would be stables for his horses.

  Gaius rode next to Marcus and the irrepressible youth could not help but ask questions. “What if enemies were to attack from the south? We would be helpless.”

  Marcus smiled a rueful smile; he began to understand what Ulpius had felt when pestered by the turma mascot. “There are few people to the south. You would have to travel for weeks before you came to any kind of numbers. Had you studied the maps you would have known that.”

  “Then why are we patrolling? Should we not be helping to build the fort?”

  “I personally would rather ride than have to bend my back and dig ditches. Besides which our task is important. While there are no peoples to the south it might be a route through which we can be attacked. We need to know how the land lies and prepare. Remember young Gaius we are isolated here. We are a vexillation not an army and we have many enemies arraigned against us. Remember that.”

  At the camp Drusus took a turma on foot to cut down the trees. They did not have to go far for there were hundreds of trees. They also needed to clear a killing zone close to the fort. Ulpius nodded his approval as he saw that his men soon had to take off their armour as it was hot, hard work despite the cold air temperature. The work would harden their sword arms even more. As he swung the axe Drusus was less appreciative than his leader of the workout he was getting. Trees took more blows to fell than warriors and he soon found his arms aching and burning from the repetition. Around him the other auxiliaries were also gleaming with sweat but their efforts soon began to show as the pile of trees grew. When they had cleared twenty paces of trees they began to drag them back to the ditches which now clearly defined the fort. Already stakes were being thrust into the mounds and would give some protection when the Romans finally rested for the day.

  It was almost sunset when the patrol returned. Marcus was not surprised by the speed with which they had erected their camp but he was impressed by the progress towards a permanent fort. There was a double ditch in front of what would become the porta praetorian. They would be defended from a frontal attack if one were forthcoming. He was pleased to see a rudimental tower and sentries already peering into the gloom of twilight. It was not a sight which brought a smile to his face it was the unmistakeable smell of, fires producing unleavened bread for the first time
since leaving Eboracum. The wagon was in the centre of the camp where the Praetorium would be built and which, at the moment was a tent. He could see the Brigante sisters already making their temporary home as comfortable as they could. At least they would be sleeping above the ground whilst the common soldiers, the caligae, would once again have the hard cold ground. He was eager to speak to Macha but knew his duty. He reported to Ulpius as soon as he recognised the decurion princeps’s broad and muscular back.

  “I have to report that the lake is long and narrow. There are woods along both sides and a river at the southern end. We found some huts of woodcutters but they were empty. We could see smoke in the distance to the south but it was faint. “

  “What about defensible sites?”

  “This is the best one. The ground is low lying all around the lake but it is overlooked by hillsides. This area has fewer trees to cut down and we are protected by water on three sides.” He pointed back to the pass they had crossed some distance away. “You see it better from this direction. The ground slopes steadily up to the pass and now that some of the trees have been cleared you can see was a good site it is.”

  “Is there another site where we could build a dock or jetty?” When Marcus looked perplexed he added impatiently, “think boy we need an escape route. We could build a boat and use it to escape but only if there is somewhere else to land otherwise we would sail around the lake until we disappeared up our own arses!”

  “Sorry sir, I wasn’t thinking you are, as usual correct and we will need to have some stables as well. They would enable us to spread out the horses. There are a couple of places halfway down the lake where there are clearings. There are many trees around the lake materials will not be a problem. “

  Ulpius nodded. “Good. As soon as we have this place up and running I want you to take a couple of turmae, build stables and a jetty. This is a good spot but I don’t want to get caught like rats in a trap. Good work Marcus.” He looked towards the wagon and smiled an almost paternal smile, “and I think there is a lady who would like some of your time. Get your men to look after the horses and then give her some of your time. I think they miss their sister.” The ‘as I do’ was unspoken but Marcus saw the sadness in his face.