Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 05] Revolt of the Red Witch Page 3

  “And hunt we shall Gaelwyn. We are suitably apologetic.” Marcus winked at Gaius who smiled. Their weekly hunts were one of the highlights of the week for the two ex-soldiers and, despite his moaning, Gaelwyn looked forward to them. They could talk of the old days and the old ways and know that when they returned home Ailis would have cooked some spectacular meal for Ailis also enjoyed the times when the four of them could sit around the table, eat, drink, laugh and enjoy life. Today they were hunting wild boar, which probably explained Gaelwyn’s grumpiness for the last time they had failed to bring home a kill and he had blamed their chatter rather than his poor aim.

  “Now be quiet. I found their tracks the other day. They have settled in the thick wood five miles from here. “

  “I thought we were almost there. We have already tramped at least five miles from the villa.”

  “Getting soft you are. It’ll do you good. I brought you five miles because I want to be downwind of them. I don’t want to spook them. Now come on as you soldiers would say,’ double time.’”

  When Gaelwyn held up his hand they both became serious; he had spotted sign. He waved Gaius to the left and Marcus to the right. In their left hands they held three javelins but in their right they held the mighty boar spear with the metal bar just below the head to stop the boar eating its way down the shaft. Gaelwyn had had the blacksmith work for days until he was satisfied with the mighty spears. The wicked looking heads were half as long as a man’s arm and honed sharp enough to shave with. The undergrowth through which they were moving was thick with bramble and wild raspberry bushes, which even Gaius knew were attractive to the boar. They also made it very hard to see them and when you did finally spy one the hunter normally had moments to throw his spear.

  Gaelwyn’s hand went up again and they stopped. In the silence of the wild they could hear snuffling ahead. It could mean only one thing, wild boar. They all crouched and Marcus and Gaius watched as Gaelwyn moved gently forwards checking the ground for anything which would give them away. Although none of them heard a sound, the boar did and it leapt towards Gaelwyn. The old Brigante bravely stood his ground and hurled his spear. It caught the boar in the throat but it was not a killing blow and it threw itself at the old scout. Marcus threw his spear and it hit the boar in the side. He threw with such force that it caused the wild pig to falter giving Gaelwyn time to roll clear. His respite was only momentary for the boar wheeled around, its savage snout and sharp tusks searching for Gaelwyn‘s throat. Even as the two men were preparing javelins to throw, Gaius had stood his ground and, as the boar passed him intent on getting to Gaelwyn, Gaius stabbed down though its eye and into its brain. It fell in a heaving heap of blood and fur, a hand span from Gaelwyn.

  The old man looked up at Gaius. “Good shot Gaius.” He put one finger on his right nostril and shot a plume of mucus at the ground. “I taught you well!”

  “Lucky for you! You old fraud. He nearly gutted you then.”

  Shrugging Gaelwyn added, “He didn’t. The Allfather has a different end for me.”

  They quickly cut down a sapling and thrust it through the boar’s snout and out of its anus. They managed, with some difficulty, to lift it onto their shoulders. “I hope that Ailis isn’t expecting us soon. It will take us longer to get home than it took to get here for this is a mighty beast.”

  “Stop moaning old man. The food will taste all the better after a healthy walk and besides think of the taste of this fine beast when we come to eat him.”

  “Lead on then you old Brigante and try to find a shorter route or we will still be eating our food at breakfast time.”

  Ailis loved it when the three young boys played amongst themselves and she could just watch then whilst she and the cook prepared the evening meal. The two years that Gaius had been home were the happiest of her life. Her whole world was perfection. Her two sons were healthy and no trouble at all while Marco’s son, Decius was even more pleasant. He was a lovely little boy who was as much her child as her own two. She loved the hunting days when the three men in her life would return full of tales of heroic hunting and full of praise for her food and they would sit until the early hours drinking mead and wine and, in typical old man’s style, making the world a much better place. For her part she was happy to bring their drinks and just listen to them smiling at their banter and their humour. When she wanted the company of women she would go to her kitchen and talk with the slaves who helped her prepare the food. She had been a slave once and went out of her way to make life as pleasant for them as possible. For their part they adored both her and the children. To Ailis, after so many years in captivity, it was like being in heaven already. Life was good.

  Outside the warband had surrounded the stockaded settlement. The warband leader remembered leaving a dead brother here the last time they had raided, years earlier, and he was taking no chances this time. There would be guards and sentries, that he knew, but because it was protected there were things inside worth stealing, animals, women, treasure. He had brought fifty men with him and he had watched as the three men had left before dawn. They waited until just past noon when he saw that the men who were guarding the villa had been fed. As two of them relieved themselves and two others walked off into the woods he dropped his arm as the signal. The two men entering the woods were grabbed and stabbed by four warriors. The sentries two relieving themselves were struck by arrows as were the two also in plain sight. The rest of the warband just raced through the open gate, blades drawn and ready to kill any man that they saw.

  The first that Ailis knew of the raid was when one of the farm’s guards, standing at the door, watching the boys play, fell through the opening, an arrow through his neck. She was so shocked that she did not even begin to react, she couldn’t understand what was happening in her peaceful part of the province of Britannia ;there had been peace for so many years that this was impossible, it was a nightmare from which she would soon awake. Suddenly she heard the screams of men dying and the clash of sword on sword. She yelled at the cook, “Get Decius!”

  The two of the grabbed the three boys and ran for the doorway. The sight which greeted them was their worst nightmare and worse than anything Ailis might have dreamed; a Caledonii warband had managed to get close to the perimeter and attacked without warning. The guards already lay dying and the farm workers were busy trying to defend themselves with whatever came to hand, farm tools, sticks, even leather belts were used. Ailis and the cook ran in the opposite direction from the fighting. In Ailis’ mind she was just hoping that Gaius and Marcus would return, and return soon. It was later that she became glad that her wish had not come true. As they turned the corner, towards the rear gate, Ailis’ hopes began to rise; once through the gate there were many places they could hide until the terror was gone. Suddenly ten bearded and heavily armed warriors stepped in front to them. The children and their protectors were all unceremoniously grabbed and in a few moments their hands were tied and halters tightened around their necks. The cook was sobbing uncontrollably but miraculously the boys were too shocked to react and Ailis was determined to keep as calm as possible to avoid upsetting her children.

  The warband quickly set fire to the homestead and then, with captives tied together, and the captured animals herded, began to trot back north up the Roman road towards Morbium. The leaders sat astride Gaius’ and Gaelwyn’s precious horses carrying their spare weapons. It had been a good haul, a better haul than they had hoped. Lulach would be pleased and they only had a few miles to go to get to Morbium where others held the bridge for them to cross in safety. It was as they were struggling up the road that Ailis realised that the warband was not hurrying but making their way purposefully up the Roman road to the Roman fort. If they were bold enough to come down the road and travel back so leisurely then they had no fear of the Romans, Morbium had been captured.

  It was Gaelwyn who knew something was amiss when he saw the glow in the night sky. The journey back had indeed taken longer than they would ha
ve hoped and it was very dark with a heavy overcast sky when they finally arrived at the track which led the two miles to the settlement.

  “There is a fire and it is at the farm.” The three men dropped their boar and ran up the lane. What greeted them was an even bigger shock than it had been for Ailis. They could see, even as they approached, the bodies littered around the perimeter lit by the light from the raging inferno which had engulfed the main building..

  “Ailis!” Gaius’ piteous cry erupted from his throat as though ripped by some unseen hand. The three of them ran to each body to see who it was and if they were alive. By the time they had searched the whole complex the fire had abated somewhat and Gaelwyn made his assessment. “It is only the men who are dead, no boys and no women.” He looked at Gaius, “Unless we find bodies in the main house.”

  Marcus shook his head. “No Gaelwyn, we saw this in the north west. It is a captive raid. The Caledonii have come for slaves.”

  Gaelwyn nodded his agreement. “ I have found Caledonii weapons. But I cannot understand why they were not stopped at the fort, unless they headed south.”

  “Let us go to my farm”, said Marcus. “It may tell us more.” As they jogged their way the five miles to his farm Marcus just worried that his farm manager and all his people would be dead. They had been with him for a long time. The dogs began howling when they approached and Annius and the salves were armed and prepared.

  “Oh it is you master. We thought it was those raiders.”

  “Did they come here?”

  “No, a rider came from Morbium. It has been surrounded and many of the garrison put to the sword. There are a few men in the fort holding on but the road to the north is no longer guarded and the messenger said that Coriosopitum had fallen too.”

  Gaelwyn and Marcus both looked intently at Gaius. “We can do nothing tonight. We will leave in the morning and follow.”

  “I cannot ask you two to come into such danger. They are my family. I will follow alone.”

  Gaelwyn’s face became suffused with anger. “Your family! Is not Ailis my sister son? And are not her children my family? Besides, boy, you could not follow their trail, you need Gaelwyn.”

  “And remember Gaius that Ailis was Macha’s cousin it is my family too.”

  “How will you get through the dangerous country north of here master?”

  “I think Annius that we will pretend to be merchants. I will dig up some of my gold and we will buy…what would we buy from the Caledonii?”

  Gaelwyn suddenly looked dark. “Slaves! We will pose as slavers.”

  Distasteful as they all found the idea it seemed the most logical. “In that case we had better take some fetters and lengths of rope.”

  “Have you two thought how big Caledonia is? How will we find them?”

  “This is why you need me Gaius for I noticed on some of the bodies the clan markings of Calgathus.”

  “And we know where he lives Gaius, north of Veluniate. All we need is to find them and then…”

  “Get them out and that will not be easy.”

  “Neither will getting them but let us complete one before we worry about the other. We leave before dawn for they have over a day’s lead. Annius send a messenger to Cataractonium and inform the Camp Prefect of this disaster.”

  It was two days since they had found the trail of Modius but he was proving to be an elusive prey. The land over which they travelled had many gullies and sudden drops which often meant the turmae had to detour. As they dropped down towards the land of the lacks the pursuit became quicker. “Sir I think we can split up and have a better chance of catching him.”

  “How so Macro?”

  “The long valley is coming up. He has two choices, down the valley or over the top to the valley of the two lakes. If I take my turma to the valley of the two lakes then I can catch him coming down from the top…”

  “Otherwise I can easily catch him in the valley of the long lake. Good plan. I will send a rider to you if we apprehend him first.”

  “And I will do the same if he comes my way.”

  Modius was surprised by the persistence of his pursuers. He had assumed that they would have just given up when they had caught the rest of his band. His hardy band was now struggling, having eaten little and barely rested in the long race. Now that he was nearing his base in the hills above the valley of two lakes he had a dilemma. If he climbed the steep dark mountain he could drop down into the next valley and lose the horsemen who would not be able to pursue him along the narrow edge of the ridge but, looking at his men, he knew that they could not face the long climb and so he continued down the long lake.

  “Sir! They are barely a mile ahead.”

  The Prefect felt a cruel pleasure that he would get to end the life of the man who had killed his brother and betrayed so many fine troopers. “Decurion take your turma and ride up the hillside. If I flush him out he may try to climb up. You six ride along the edge of the water. Prevent him from escaping that way. The rest of you in column of fours.” Knowing that they were so close and that he had secured any possible escape Julius could now use speed. Modius could not escape.

  As he heard the thundering of the hooves Modius knew that he had nowhere left to run. “Let’s face them.” His men looked at each other and contemplated surrender; Modius could see it in their eyes. “They do not take prisoners. Our only hope is to kill them.” Resigned to their fate the small band spread out and prepared to meet the approaching horsemen.

  As Julius came over the ridge he recognised Modius. “Leave the grey haired one. Kill the rest!”

  It was not even a contest. The troopers took no chances and their javelins took out the unarmoured men in moments leaving Modius, sword in hand looking helpless.”Come on you bastards, which of you is willing to fight me?”

  Julius sensed some of his younger troopers relishing the challenge of hand to hand combat but the Prefect wanted a sweeter revenge than that. If Modius died in hand to hand then, in his eyes, he would go to the Allfather. Julius wanted him to die slowly and to be punished for his crimes. He turned to the archer next to him. “An arrow in each arm!”

  The helpless Modius looked at the feathered missiles protruding from his arms and the swords on the floor. “You coward Demetrius. You are just like your brother! He squealed like a stuck pig when he died.”

  The cold eyed Prefect ignored the taunts for that was what they were, taunts to anger him but he had a cold anger inside him. “Trooper ride to Decurion Macro and bring him here. You two secure the prisoner make sure he cannot escape. You six cut down two trees and build me a cross.”

  Modius looked with pure hate at the Prefect for he knew what his fate would be. He would be tied to a cross and left to die a slow death, picked at by the carrion which, like him, preyed on the weak in this wild land.

  The cross had been built and was ready to be buried in the ground by the time that Macro arrived. He just stared at the bully who had nearly caused his death. He nodded his approval at the Prefect’s punishment. He had worried that his friend would have killed the bandit out of hand. “Tie him to the cross.” Modius struggled as they tied him tightly to the rough wooden cross but to no avail, his bleeding arms were no use and his legs were easily controlled. “Break his legs and his ankles.” The trooper who had the hammer normally despatched injured horses and he swung the hammer as hard as always did. The crack of the break was masked by the scream of the bandit and after the third strike he, mercifully, passed out.

  By the time he came to Modius was on the cross looking down on the camp of the Roman cavalry. He could see Julius watching him; he had obviously been waiting for him to wake. He made the mistake of trying to move and, as he did so he felt the broken ends of his bones grate together and he screamed in agony, making some of the horses whinny in fear. “You see Modius the punishment is the pain. Each time you move it will be agony. Your blood will seep very slowly from your body. There is no quick way for you to hurry your end. When we l
eave tomorrow you will still be alive. You may be alive the following day but I think that the wolves will have descended from the woods and be jumping up to take pieces from you. If you notice the bottom of the cross is just low enough for a wolf to jump up and bite at your foot. If you are lucky he may take a foot and hasten you death but I hope he doesn’t and you die slowly, piece by piece.”

  In a low voice which Julius could barely hear the defeated Modius said, “You cruel, heartless bastard.”

  “True but compared to a treacherous traitor like you I am as pure as a new born babe. Enjoy your death Modius.”

  The Caledonii had surprised Ailis for she had been their prisoner before and had been cruelly treated. It was only when she thought back to her time as a prisoner that she remembered that it had been the women folk who had abused her and here there were only warriors. They did neither her nor the other slaves any kindness but they were not unnecessarily cruel. As they had passed the burnt fort and the destruction of the settlement of Morbium she had begun to lose hope. She could see a few soldiers on the walls but there were too few to be of aid. Even had the fort been fully garrisoned they would have found it difficult to affect a rescue for the warband had grown overnight with others coming from the east and the west. This had been a major raid. She had prayed to the Allfather that the ala would be there, waiting, and they would be rescued. Instead they were joined by another tethered troop of slaves. She also noticed the livestock which had been gathered, pigs and cattle and mules. Perhaps therein lay hope for the cavalry could easily overtake this slow moving group. She had contemplated leaving markers for Gaius but the swathe they cut through the land would leave all in no doubt in which direction they had gone. What she could not see was the small band hidden in the woods above the bridge ready to ambush any soldiers foolish enough to pursue the mighty Caledonii. The horses they had taken from Ailis’ and other’s farms would facilitate their escape.