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

  Not for the first time since the patrol had head north did Ulpius stand in the north western tower almost willing his men to return. He had felt disquiet when the messenger told him of Marcus’ plans. If the fort was in a parlous position then the patrol was even more so. They were isolated with no friends within a week’s march. Every bush and rock could conceal an enemy. It was two days since the messenger had arrived and the decurion princeps had hoped that a second would have brought a progress report. He could not bring himself to chide or castigate his young protégé, after all Ulpius had trained him and he could find no fault with the young warrior’s actions. Even so the waiting was something to which the man of action could not become accustomed.

  “Stand to!”

  The gates were slammed shut and the fort called to arms at the sentries warning. The snows had gone from all but the higher hills which made it harder to make out the line of figures. As soon as the horses could be made out it was obvious that it was the returning patrol. The sentry looked at Ulpius to see if he ordered the watch to stand down. Ulpius shook his head. “We’ll stay alert. This may be a trick. They are Roman horses, they are dressed in our uniform but until they speak we will be wary.”

  He felt rather than saw the two princesses clamber up the ladder. It would have been churlish of him to chastise them for this breach of rules not to mention the potential health hazard of a pregnant princess falling from the ladder and he understood their anxiety.

  “It is Marcus! He is alive.” Macha’s face lit up as she was the first to recognise her man.

  Ulpius frowned when he saw the bodies draped over the backs of the horses. He shouted down. “Get the surgeon!”

  Even though every part of Marcus yearned to be with his love his duty dictated that he report to Ulpius and, in truth, his report was vital. Ulpius took him into the now complete fort Headquarters. The brazier in the corner gave off immediate heat which to the half frozen Marcus was a lifesaver. Ulpius waved his hand for his protégé to sit and handed him a goblet of honeyed warm wine. His desire and need for the valuable information in Marcus’ head was counterbalanced by the understanding that he had been through an ordeal; the dead bodies draped over the horses was testimony to that.

  Eventually Marcus told him of the patrol culminating in the ambush. “So Venutius is ready to strike but towards us or towards Eboracum?” Although he was talking to himself Ulpius was also trying to establish if Marcus had any further information.

  “I do not think they were aware of our fort here. We saw no signs of armed men either on our way out or back. But I fear that the fact that the Carvetii escaped means they will track us.”

  “Aye. Well we will have to assume that is the case. In will waste no more messengers asking for help either our forces will be moving towards us as we were told or we will be on our own. We will improve the defences. But not you. Go see your woman and rest you and your men have done well.” He paused and his one eye lit up. “As I knew you would.”

  Chapter 15

  Brocavum

  As the battered and wounded Maeve urged his mount towards the muster he wondered how Venutius would take the news. He was not an easy lord to follow as many of his men had discovered. His obvious courage, strength and martial skills were countered by a cruel nature and a violent temper. He gripped his sword and looked to the skies; it was in the Allfather’s hands now.

  As he crested the brow of the valley before Brocavum he was amazed by the host he could see in the distance. It looked as though every warrior had already arrived. Surely with a host this size even the mighty Roman army could be destroyed. Riding down the steep slopes he pondered on the Romans he had fought. It was the first time he had been bested and he realised that he could have died at the hands of the young Roman warrior. Hitherto they had respected the Roman ability to fight in tight lines, shoulder to shoulder but every Carvetii warrior believed that in a single combat they would win. His dead comrades gave that statement the lie.

  The fact that he arrived alone meant that Venutius demanded he attend him immediately. In the huge hall with all the chieftains gathered the High king sat on a raised platform on a mighty throne. He was deliberately intimidating. He had to keep his vassals in awe of him.

  “You come alone Lord Maeve where are your warriors or are they with your brother?”

  Every eye stared at the warrior whose wounds were still apparent. “We found some Romans and ambushed them but they were alert and they defeated us.”

  Venutius’ eyes narrowed. “They defeated you? Did you outnumber them?” Maeve lowered and shook his head. “You attacked at night?”

  “Yes my king but their guards gave warning and they had armour.”

  “Where did they come from these Romans?”

  “They were horsemen and we found their tracks coming from the land of the lakes.”

  For the first time Venutius looked confused. He had expected Romans from the west but he had believed that the south was safe as the Deceangli were still fighting the Romans in Mona. Suppose he had two huge armies to face? He had a mighty host but he could not fight two conflicts against two armies. On the other hand it could have been a patrol from the army to the west.

  He rose, towering over his warriors. “You have disappointed me. You have been defeated by a handful of Romans and you have failed to do as I asked which was to discover where the Romans were. What have you to say?”

  “I know that I have let you down but I believed that my information was vital. I would else have died with my sword in my hand.” The proud warrior stared defiantly at his king.

  “And that is the only reason why you sill have a head on your shoulders. Summon Earl Woolgar.”

  The Earl must have been outside for he appeared within a heartbeat. He glared at Maeve when he entered. It was obvious in an instant that they were half brothers for both had inherited their father’s looks. They could have been twins but for their dress. Earl Woolgar had more jewellery and finer clothes than his poorer brother. “Your warrior here has dishonoured your tribe. To redeem you and your people I want you to take your warband to the land of the lakes. Find these Romans without them seeing you. When you find them send a message to me. If it is a patrol you can destroy it, if it is an army then I will come to defeat it. Do you think you can do this?”

  The sarcasm in his voice made the older warrior colour. “I will my lord and if it is a patrol I will return with their heads on my lance.”

  When he was outside he looked with disgust at his half brother. There was no love lost between them with Maeve blaming the Earl for taking his birthright. He had felt humbled and angry when he had heard his people disparaged all because of his half brother. Much as he wanted to kill him there out of hand he knew that family loyalty meant he could not. “Take your miserable self back to your farm. When we have defeated these Romans I will decided on your punishment.”

  Morbium

  Caesius Alasica stared intently at the almost complete bridge. His legionaries had done well in appalling condition. This northern land was cold and inhospitable; for the Spanish soldiers it must have seemed to be Hades. The last few touches were being applied and he knew that the following day would see the invasion of the land of the Carvetii. His auxiliaries had kept the lands north and south of the river clear of enemy scouts. The Roman leader’s nose wrinkled in distaste as he saw the heads of the dead scouts displayed on poles. No doubt it was an effective deterrent but it showed the Roman that his auxiliaries were but a step away from being barbarians themselves. He looked at the native bridge which had enabled them to secure the two banks. Although it had served his needs the Roman could see that the spring floods would sweep it away. He could see the remains of an earlier bridge. His bridge was of stone and would easily withstand flood damage. He looked back at the watch tower his men were building at the top of the ridge. When completed it would give his soldiers early warning of an enemy advancing on the bridge or fort.

  He turned to his aid. “Gaiu
s Agrippa, ensure that the centurion in charge of the cohorts building the forts is an experienced man. The last thing we need is for all our work to be undone because the commander here is inexperienced.” Gaius nodded but before he could continue Alasica continued with his instructions. “And you, young Gaius, must ensure that the road between here and Eboracum is defended well. Keep it well patrolled. I want our supplies to be with us as soon as we require them. I wish we were closer to the coast for we could use the fleet.” He suddenly stopped as though struck by a weapon. “By Mithras of course! Instruct the fleet commander to sail here.”

  “But we have not secured the coast yet sir.”

  “From what I have seen they do not possess any ships, let alone fighting ships. As long as the river is deep enough and wide enough then we can save ourselves the effort of building forts and fortlets all the way from Eboracum. I want to know as soon as the first ship arrives. Once the fleet has achieved this they can escort the supplies. It will save much time. We will not need to unload as many at Eboracum. Excellent. Excellent idea.” He slapped his young subordinate on the shoulder as though it had been his idea. Gaius smiled to himself. This was one of the reasons his men would follow him to the ends of the earth for he shared all his success with his men as well as putting himself in harm’s way.

  “It will be done commander.”

  The simple decision meant that Alasica received his supplies quicker than he would had he been at Eboracum. The river journey was less than that at the fortress. It also meant he was in control of his own destiny. He was aware that some of the officials at Eboracum lined their pockets a little too much and it also diminished the effect of the sabotage taking place.

  Glanibanta

  It was some days later when Macha brought up the subject of marriage. In truth she would not have done so were it not for the persistence of her sister who took every opportunity to make direct statements to Macha and oblique ones to Marcus. Marcus, being a warrior just thought that Lenta was being a woman and nagging. He said so to Macha. “Your sister seems a little testy of late is there a problem?”

  “No she is just, well she is just Lenta you know,” she tailed off lamely.

  “Perhaps she needs a man?”

  Macha resisted the urge to snap at him. He was so naïve when it came to women but she saw an opportunity to bring up the subject of marriage. “No she has no need of a man. She had a man, a husband, he is dead. She does not need a man. If she had never had a husband then she would need one for her children. All children need a father.”

  “Good then, our son will be happy for he will have a father.”

  “He will until Rome decides to send you somewhere else in the Empire and then where will he be? Will I have to find another soldier to look after us?”

  Marcus looked shocked as though the idea had never occurred to him which, of course, it had not. He was happy knowing that he was loved and had a son. He had not thought it through. Now that Macha had suggested it to him it was as though Pandora’s Box had been opened. It was true he could be sent anywhere. He still had fifteen years to serve what would happen if they sent him to Egypt or Parthia. “Well, I er that is.”

  “That is you have not thought about it have you?”

  “No but I am thinking now. “ He pulled her over to his lap and nuzzled her ear. “I will see Ulpius. I will ask permission to marry.”

  Macha threw her arms around him but before either could speak Lenta burst in. “At last! Well done brother.”

  Marcus looked ruefully at her. “Well at least it means that we will have our own quarters and there will be no eavesdroppers.”

  Lenta and Macha both laughed. “It matters not husband for we share everything. There are no secrets.”

  Lenta looked playfully at Marcus’ crotch. “No brother, no secrets.”

  North of Glanibanta

  The scouts of Woolgar’s warband picked up the trail of Marcus soon after they cross the ridge near the long lake. The Romans had not bothered to hide their tracks and, although the snow had largely disappeared the weary auxiliaries had left an easy trail. Woolgar was still fuming about his treatment at the hands of his king and was reluctant to send back a premature message. With five hundred warriors under his command he was confident he could deal with any force short of a legion. He seethed at his half brother. Had he joined the muster the problem would not have arisen; no one would know about the Romans and his honour would be intact. He would have to show the king that he was capable of leading larger warbands than his own. He glanced around at the hills; this was broken, uneven country and Roman legionaries would struggle to keep their famous ordered formations. His lightly armoured warriors would be able to hide and strike from the safety of steep cliffs. Still he would call on Venutius if it were a legion rather than risking the wrath of his unstable leader for if he suffered the indignity of defeat again he would not put it past the King of the Brigante to have him murdered by one of his witches. .

  Spring was definitely in the air when they camped in the valley of the two lakes. Woolgar was being cautious. Soon the valley would narrow to a point where it could be held by a line of twenty men. He wanted his men fresh when they reached there. He looked up from his mutton joint and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he scanned the steep skyline. It was many years since he had been here but he was certain that he remembered a twisting path which skirted the escarpment. He turned to Aetre one of his more trusted lieutenants, the son of his sister. Although he had only seen seventeen summers he was a fine warrior and a leader. More important he was a thinker. “Take ten men and see if you can find the path along that ridge.” Aetre nodded and quickly left with a file of men.

  Although he had only seen seventeen summers he had proved himself to be a clever warrior and the older men with his, drawn from Woolgar’ personal warband trusted him and his judgement. They left their mounts at the foot of the slope close to a small stream and they set off at an easy lope. The land steadily rose, climbing through rowan, elder and pine. They paused briefly at a pond to drink and to enable Aetre to climb a small knoll which overlooked the valley. He could see that there was clearly a path weaving through the forest and he quickly rejoined his men. The path became more uneven with rises and falls; there were sheer drops and it was barely wide enough for two men but it was a path. Behind him his men smiled at the young warrior’s wisdom in leaving their horses. It was drawing on towards dark when the path began to descend. He wondered whether to turn back when he heard a roaring noise in the distance. They trotted on until they came to a waterfall. They descended the steep sides and found a shallow ford through which they could easily wade. The trail on the other side appeared to head up into the valley to the east and he was about to turn back when one of his scouts suddenly drew his attention to a thin tendril of smoke spiralling from the other side of the trees.

  Alert to danger they began to ford the stream, its icy waters chilling them to the bone. Once they were back on the path the forest masked the roaring of the waters but they began to smell not only the smoke but the smell of horses. Aetre held his hand up. He turned to one of his men. “Go back to Earl Woolgar. Tell him of the path, the stream and the waterfall. Tell we believe there are Romans ahead. We will find out their numbers. Tell him I will send another messenger when I know more.” Once more his men wondered at the wisdom of the youth. He was not blundering in to a situation and he was keeping their leader informed. All of the warriors knew of Earl Woolgar’s meeting with Venutius and all knew how angry he had been.

  They moved steadily on until Aetre stopped them again. The forest ended and he could see, in the darkening evening a man made structure; it was the Roman tower sitting atop the steep knoll. There was a glow from the foot of the mound and a glimmer of light gleaning from the top. They had found the Romans. Rather than send another man back with half a message Aetre selected his smallest warrior. “Find out how many are there but do not be seen.”

  H e slipped away crawli
ng through the clumps of dead summer weed and grasses. The wind was coming down the valley from the lakes and he crawled in the opposite direction to mask his smell from the horses. He could see they were Romans by their mail and their horses. He was surprised to see a tower; he had travelled this valley before and never seen a tower here. How long had they been here? He could just make out the sentry in the top of the dimly lit building. The others appeared to be reclining and eating at the foot of the tower close to the tethered horses. He was as silent and motionless as a stone as he counted them. It was completely dark by the time the warrior returned. “There are more than ten men there. I counted at least twelve horses. There are men in the tower and they are Romans.”

  “Good. Go back and tell the lord what you have seen. We will await his instructions here.” As his man trotted off Aetre divided his men into watches. Whilst it was dark the light from the Roman fire allowed his men to see movements in the tower leaving the sentries blind to the Carvetii hiding in the forest. Aetre spread his men in a half circle and impressed on them not only the need for silence but also for vigilance.

  Woolgar started his men off long before the dawn. Following the advice of the scout they went on foot and they were led by the earl himself. The scout warned him of the dangers of the path but Earl Woolgar was desperate to get to grips with the Romans. He pushed them on at a fierce pace losing two men who fell down the scree on the dark hillside; their broken limbs would rule them out of any further fight but the war chief cared not. Speed was of the essence and from the message he deduced it was not a large party; his fifty warriors would be more than enough. Aetre heard them long before they arrived and he went towards them to ensure they could not be heard by the tower. Lying in the dark he had become acutely aware of how far noise could travel and he wanted to warn his kin of the presence of the Romans. He appeared by the side of Earl Woolgar making his bodyguards grip their weapons in alarm.