Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 08] The Last Frontie Page 4

  The boys were waiting for him at the head of the valley. They were both grinning from ear to ear. “What is then? Have you discovered some enemy warriors? Their trail? You have at least found some weapons?” They shook their heads grinning less broadly. “Don’t tell me you have merely shot a couple of rabbits for supper and are felling proud of yourselves?”

  Their mouths opened. Marcus was the first to speak. “How did you know? We hid them behind the rocks.”

  “I know and so did the swarm of flies which are buzzing around the rocks.”

  They glanced back and then Macro said, “How did you know it was rabbits? It could have been a deer.”

  Metellus peered around the barren hillside. “If it was a deer then it would have to be tiny and so far away from its natural habitat that it would have been scared to death by your bows, besides which it wouldn’t have fitted behind the rock.” Reaching into his pouch he took out the piece of cloth. “Ever seen this before?”

  They both examined it and then looked at each other, nodding as they did so. “Votadini weave. We saw many of the bodyguards of the king wearing such cloth.”

  Metellus looked back over his shoulder towards the camp site and then down at the trail. “A larger party of warriors and high status women came down the trail some time in the past few days. Now you fought against the Votadini. Why would such a party travel west?” They both looked at each other and then in panic at Metellus who shook his head, “It was a rhetorical question. I wasn’t expecting an answer. Let us check the trail ahead and see which way they went when they reached the col.”

  Once they reached the head of the valley they could clearly see the trail heading south west. “They are going towards the coast Metellus.”

  “Which means?”

  “Which means they are going to get a boat.”

  “Excellent Marcus; Now Macro where could they be going in a boat from this coast?”

  “Ireland?”

  “Could be but the first patrol we had took place when we were pursuing Morwenna and Aodh and they were heading for Manavia. Equally it could be Mona but both those are not good places for us because it means the Votadini may be allying themselves with the Druids and that cannot be good.”

  “Couldn’t they be allying themselves with the Irish?”

  “They could Marcus but in that case they would catch a boat from further north, in the land of the Selgovae. It is a shorter crossing and has less risk of running into our patrols. Did you not tell us that the Selgovae and Votadini fought together?”

  “They did.”

  “No, if they risked crossing Roman land, no matter how heavily armed they were they would be heading for the Druids. Come, we return to Cassius and get those rabbits cooked before they are completely covered in fly shit. A good hunter would have gutted them straight away and the flies would have followed the offal.”

  Shamefaced the boys retrieved their catch and as they rode along Metellus could hear the rabbits being skinned and cleaned as they hastened back to meet the rest of the patrol. He smiled to himself. The boys were no longer feeling sorry for themselves. Things were back to normal.

  When they met up with their comrades they shared their intelligence. Cassius set the two youngsters to cooking their rabbits while he and Metellus discussed their options with Rufius. “This reminds me of when we chased Morwenna.”

  “And me Metellus. Do you think we could catch this elusive prey before they boarded ship?”

  Metellus considered, reaching down to take a handful of soil from the trail. “Difficult to say. I suspect not, the tracks did not look fresh and even if they were a day old that would put them at the coast.” He stood and stretched. “And there are the warriors. I estimated that the party was at least twelve strong, more if they used scouts and outriders away from the main group. We are but five…”

  Cassius nodded his thoughts were in tune with Metellus. “However Metellus we don’t know who it is and that might be important.”

  The two youngsters had joined them and the rabbits were cooking on the fire hidden in the rocky dell. “I think we can make some assumptions. The party was too small to be a warband and they are heading for either Manavia or Mona which suggests a Druidic connection. We know that there are women amongst the party which would make senses as it is the cult of the Mother which prevails there. I think someone close to the female side of the royal family is travelling west.”

  Marcus jumped up. “That Queen Cassius, Radha. She used magic didn’t she?”

  Cassius thumped his fist into his other palm. “By the Allfather you are right and she led the warriors to attack the Ninth. I remember thinking how much she reminded me of Morwenna. I now believe you are right Metellus. We will return tomorrow to Eboracum and report to the Prefect. We are guessing a little but then that is what we do. These are dire occurrences. The Votadini almost destroyed the Ninth. With the Red Witch on their side…”

  * * * * * *

  In Eboracum, the Prefect was ploughing his way through the myriad of reports from his units spread across northern half of Britannia. They all pointed to one thing, general unrest. The Stanegate was in a high state of tension. He had sent messengers to the Governor urging him to request a legion to replace the Ninth. So far it had not even merited a reply to say he had received the request. He was forced to use his depleted auxiliaries to plug the gaps and to fortify every fort, no matter what its condition. . He leaned back and stretched. The only good news was the arrival of an under strength ala of Pannonians. They had been requested when Marcus’ Horse had been disbanded some years earlier but troubles in Lower Germania had delayed their departure. They were not up to full strength having only three hundred troopers and one Decurion but they were, at least, some cavalry and, as such, able to cover and control larger areas of Britannia. It also afforded him a solution to the problem of the Explorates of the Ninth. Three of them could be promoted as Decurions into the new ala and, with their local knowledge, could help with the recruitment of new troopers. He walked to the window of the Praesidium. It was shame that the old commander of the Explorates, Livius Sallustius had been so badly wounded otherwise he would have made a perfect Decurion Princeps. He watched as the Decurion of the Pannonians rode out of the gate. He knew he ought to promote Aelius Spartianus to Decurion but there was something about the man he disliked and distrusted. There was no urgency in promoting anyone as the ala needed building up with new recruits. Once his Explorates were returned he would throw the dice and see which way they fell. He just hoped that the province would not erupt before the ala was trained and the legion replaced.

  Aelius Spartianus felt the gaze of the Prefect as he rode out of the gate. He shivered in the early morning chill. He had hoped, after the rigours of Germania, for a posting to a warmer clime. He had hoped that he and his men would be posted to Syria to join Trajan in his troubled subjugation of that people but it was not to be. Here they were at the very last frontier, the edge of the world. He consoled himself that, at long last, he was almost Decurion Princeps with all its attendant benefits. He was a man who did not see his future on the back of a horse. Once he had made his money, and found the patronage he wished, he would begin to milk the cow that was the Roman bureaucratic machine. He had known enough corrupt officials to know that, with power one could make money and retire comfortably rather than with a pathetic plot of land. His ultimate aim was to be made a Camp Prefect. In order to do so he needed to be promoted sooner rather than later. The recent deaths in Germania had been fortuitous. Some of his men thought too fortuitous, especially as at least one of Aelius’ rivals had been struck from behind by a stray javelin during a recent skirmish.

  Aelius kicked his horse on once he was free of the confines of the fort. He was a good rider. He was the son of a Pannonian trooper and had been born in a fort in Batavia. As such he had learned to ride at an early age and the men of his father’s turma had spoiled the boy but trained him well. It had been inevitable that he would follow in h
is father’s footsteps and he had had a meteoric rise to Decurion at an early age. He was still only twenty seven and had been the youngest Decurion in the ala. His good looks and easy charm made him a magnet for every pretty girl in the fort. There were many young Spartiani running around Germania but Aelius had no intentions of tying himself down. When he took a woman it would be because of the money and power it brought.

  Although he knew the Prefect expected him to be in the fort raising and training new troopers he had decided to get the lie of the land first and find out as much as he could about the land around Eboracum. It was likely that this would be his base and he had learned long ago that the more intelligence one had the more one could control their own destiny and he knew his destiny was for greatness. The Allfather had not caused him to be born just to have him end his days the same rank as his father.

  Chapter 4

  Julius had never visited his new villa before this sudden, unexpected trip had been forced upon them. It had been purchased on his behalf by an agent but he had had a description of it. The reality exceeded every word he had heard. It was perched atop a cliff which was at least two hundred paces above the sea. The city wall was just fifty paces away with a busy thriving market hidden by the solid walls. The grounds were extensive and had a high wall which could be defended by a determined garrison but its beauty was in its secret escape to the sea. With just one gate in and the secret passage out it was as safe a location as he was likely to find. He smiled grimly to himself. Although he had never seen it, he expected that the villa of Tiberius, perched high on nearby Capreae was the only villa more secure.

  Cato returned from his inspection and nodded his satisfaction. “With the men we have we could defend this place against anyone who tried to gain entrance. And that includes Praetorians!”

  “I do not think that it will be Praetorians who will follow us here Cato. In Rome it is where they would expect to operate. Here? Unless the Emperor returns to Capreae then they would have no reason to visit us. No I think that my young friend here is safe for a while.” Livius looked up and felt Julius’ gaze upon him. “However they will discover where we have fled and then I think we will need to be more vigilant and look for the knife in the night. Before then, Livius, we will have made your legs stronger and prepared our defences. Hopefully we will see the Emperor before that day arrives.”

  * * * * * *

  Hadrian received Julius’ letter sooner than the senator had anticipated. He wasted no time in seeking out his mentor, the Emperor Trajan. As he made his way through the corridors of the villa in Selinus he hoped that the Imperial party would depart for Rome sooner rather than later. Turning the corner, he found himself face to face with Pompeia Plotina the Emperor’s devoted wife and companion. Denied children of their own the couple regarded Hadrian as their heir.

  He bobbed his head, “Divinity.”

  The sensible and pragmatic Pompeia waved away the flattery and she took his arm; her face showing the emotion she felt as her husband prepared to join his ancestors. “He is worse Hadrian. I fear he will not last the night.”

  Hadrian had feared this outcome. The normally robust Emperor had succumbed to this terrifying disease which had everyone, even the Greek doctors, perplexed. Whilst his face and body were emaciated his legs had swollen out of all proportion. No amount of leeches and poultices had any effect. He leaned in to speak quietly to the Empress. “I have had news from Rome, Lucius Quietus is flexing his muscles and beginning to use the Praetorians.”

  “It is as the Emperor and I feared. The Praetorians can be unpredictable and if they took control of Rome then it would be harder for you to gain control. Go to him Hadrian, and apprise him of the parlous situation. I need to make preparations of my own.” The hand she placed on his arm confirmed her affection for the young man. She and her husband regarded Hadrian as the son they never had and the Empress would do all in her power to ensure his succession.

  The Emperor’s tired eyes looked out from a gaunt, haggard skull. “From the look on your face my son I see that you do not bring me good news.”

  “No Divinity. I have had news from Senator Julius Demetrius that Lucius Quietus has tried to kill Livius Sallustius.”

  The Emperor looked confused. “Livius Sallustius? Who is…”

  “The Explorate we sent to Aquitania to recover your gold and kill the traitor.”

  “Ah yes I remember, a most resourceful young man but why should the Senator be interested in him? He is not important.”

  “No Divinity but if you recall you sent a Praetorian to bring him to Rome. We had a role for him. It shows that the Praetorians have been infiltrated. Apparently Quietus has seduced some of them with gold. They would have told the Senator that you wanted to see him and, by eliminating him they would weaken you. ”

  The aged Emperor smiled wryly, “Weaker than this?”

  Hadrian spread his arms. “We need to return to Rome as soon as possible.”

  The Emperor shook his head, “I will not be in a condition to travel for a while, if ever. No my son. Take a fast ship and a century of Praetorians; Praetorians that you can trust. Go to my villa on Capreae. From there you can send messages to those that we trust and eliminate Lucius.”

  “And you divinity?”

  “I will rest here.” He looked earnestly at Hadrian. “And ensure that you succeed me. It is important that you continue our work.”

  Hadrian took a deep breath. “You have always valued my honesty?” The Emperor nodded and waved a weak hand to signify that he continue. “Mesopotamia is not defensible. Neither is Armenia. They are both draining the life blood of the Empire. We leave Mesopotamia and allow Parthia to rule Armenia for us. That way we still have all the benefits of a trade link without the draining of Roman blood. The Parthians will have enough to contend with controlling the wild peoples of those regions and we will not have to keep such a large army there.” The Emperor closed his eyes and when he opened them he nodded, albeit sadly. “We then build a new frontier in Britannia. There is little point trying to conquer the barren land in the north. Better that we build a wall and encourage trade. We will do as we have in Germania. The Empire is big enough. Alexander’s Empire did not last a generation after his death. The Divine Augustus was a wise man but you, Divinity, are wiser and the Empire has never been as big as it is now. There may be a time in the future when we expand north and east again but…”

  In a weak tired voice Trajan murmured, “You are right. Make it so and now I will sleep.”

  By the time Hadrian had informed the Empress of the conversation, his Praetorians were ready and the boat prepared. “You may leave the Emperor in my hands my son. May the gods watch over you.” She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “You will be Emperor, you may rely on that.”

  * * * * * * *

  Livius and Julius were taking their daily walk down the path from the city to the beach. Cato and two armed men followed them. It had become a daily routine as recommended by Atticus. Furax had insisted on accompanying them and darted along the path picking up lizards, stones, in fact anything which piqued his interest. Livius was glad that Julius had persuaded him to spare the boy and bring him with them. It was as though he was having a child hood for the first time. Although Cato and the guards were gruff with the street urchin it was obvious that they were fond of him and Julius had heard them practising with wooden swords after dinner. He smiled ruefully to himself; would that his childhood had been filled with such affection. All he remembered was his bullying brother and a father who was so distant that he appeared to have no affection for his young sensitive son. Once at the sea Livius would exercise his crippled legs in the salty seawater. The Greek doctor had assured him that it would heal them quicker and make them stronger. He was being proved correct.

  “Well Julius Atticus is right. The walk hurt me at first but now, after ten days, I feel much stronger.”

  “Good and very timely.”

  Livius shot a look at his friend. �
�You have heard something?”

  “Yes it appears that the man who arranged the sale of this villa disappeared two days ago. I received a message today that his body was found in the Tiber. I think we can assume that they know where we are. I have ordered Hercules to moor ‘The Swan’ below the cliff should we need to make a hasty departure.” He laughed. “He seemed inordinately pleased that they had cleaned all of the slimy weed from its bottom. He seemed somewhat disappointed that I was not more excited!”