Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery Page 4

  Appius’ attention was instgant; gold and copper! Those were the treasures his father sought. “I will begin to make plans then sir, while we are at the fort to divide up the country and enable engineers to explore it.”

  Aulus Nepos appreciated the young aide. He worked tirelessly and seemed to anticipate his every move. “An excellent idea Appius.” He turned to the escorting cavalry. “ Decurion? How long until we reach the fort?”

  The decurion sighed, how long did any journey take up here? Forever when you were asked the same question every ten miles! Could the man not read the mile markers? “Coriosopitum is just twenty miles ahead sir. If we push on we might reach it by dark.” Both men looked at the slowly moving carriage.

  “Send a rider to the fort to warn the Prefect that we will be arriving. Ask him to send a couple of turmae of his cavalry to escort us. Not that I doubt your ability decurion but after dark, this close to the forests and the frontier…”

  Decurion Titus Graccus did not take offence. He actually did not give a shit if the Governor wanted a legion to escort him! The only thing he wanted was for the journey to end so that he could rid himself of his burden and enjoy the amphora of wine he had waiting for him.

  At the back of the column Rufius, decurion of Marcus’ Horse and one time Explorate also cursed the slowly moving column. He would have been at the fort already with his twenty recruits had the Governor not insisted upon them adding to their escort. He had had time to look the recruits over and he was impressed. They had none of the older ex-warriors who joined for the extra salary paid to horsemen; these were all young and keen, men who wanted to join the elite auxiuiliary ala they had become. The oldest of the recruits was Vibius Gemellus who looked to be in his early twenties but even he was bright eyed and enthusiastic. Livius would be pleased. Metellus, his oldest friend would also be pleased for Rufius had called at their stud to collect some horses and Nanna had given him a letter and a cake for her husband. Rufius knew that Metellus would retire ere long and who could blame him? His farm was in the most beautiful part of the Dunum valley and Nanna was a wonderful wife. If Rufius had been married to her then he would have retired long ago.

  “Sir?”

  He looked around at the young Brigante warrior. “Yes er…”

  “Aneurin sir. Will we be with these troopers ahead all of the time sir?”

  “No Aneurin. They are the Sixth Legion and they do not operate as we do. We are the ones who patrol the frontier; they fight the battles and escort the generals. Why?”

  “Just curious sir. I knew of Marcus’ Horse from tales in the village but I had not heard of the troopers.”

  “Tell me Aneurin, why did you not take a Roman name. I only ask for I was not born Rufius, I took the name when I joined.”

  “Is it a problem sir? They did ask me when I joined if I would change it but it was my father’s name and I wished to do him honour.”

  “Not a problem at all. You will find that many of the troopers are Brigante and they will understand.” He lowered his voice and gestured for the youth to ride next to him. “Some of the regular troops might give you a hard time. If they do, just ignore them. The ala is like a family.”

  “Thank you sir. I will do that.”

  They reached the top of the ridge which overlooked the fort after it was dark. The four turmae met them a couple of miles from the valley. All of them were pleased to see the glowing welcoming lights of the fort which meant they had reached safety and hot food.

  Aulus Nepos had demanded an escort of, not only the troopers of the Sixth Legion but also four turmae of Marcus’ Horse; he took himself very seriously. Rufius took the recruits to the new fort whilst Marcus led the four turmae with the governor. Rufius had moaned to Marcus about the interminable journey and the decurion was just pleased that they did not have to lug the carriage around with them as Flavia felt the need of some time to recuperate with her companions.

  “So tell me decurion what of the tribes hereabouts?”

  Marcus knew what Livius had discovered but it was not his place to tell the Governor that. “It is strange sir. They just seem to object to the wall as an entity. It doesn’t actually take any Selgovae or Votadini land. It is Brigante land. I think it goes back to the old religion; the religion of the Mother. They believe that you do not build anything permanent; you live in harmony with the land. They are a very religious people even though their gods are not ours.”

  Aulus’ jaw dropped and Appius gave Marcus a questioning look, “Really! People still believe that.”

  “Look around you can you see any buildings? When you travelled north did you see any buildings or towns other than the Roman ones? Even of they do not believe in the religion the ideas are embedded deep in their hearts.”

  “So how do they feel about mining?”

  Marcus shook his head. “They do not like it. The only mines I know are in those parts of Britannia which are peaceful. It is one reason why the Silures were destroyed as a people; they had gold in their land and we wanted it.”

  Aulus looked searchingly at Marcus. “You are half Brigante are you not?”

  “Yes sir. My mother comes from the land near the Dunum and my father was an Atrebate who joined after the Boudiccan rebellion.”

  “I have also heard that you bear a special sword.” He gestured at the gladius which hung from Marcus saddle. “That does not look particularly special; to me it looks like a regular legion gladius.”

  Marcus laughed, as did the troopers behind. The Governor had a momentary look of anger until Marcus drew the sword from its scabbard on the opposite side of his body. “This is the Sword of Cartimandua. It was passed down through the royal line until it reached Cartimandua, the last Queen of the Brigantes and from there it came to my father and now me. I keep the gladius on my saddle should I need to fight with two weapons or in the press of a close battle where my other is too long to be of use.”

  Appius’ eyes lit up. He could see the value of the sword in an instant. “That is magnificent and it looks ancient.”

  “Yes sir, it came from Gaul I believe but the metal comes from, I know not where for it is sharper and harder than any sword I have ever held.”

  There was disappointment on Appius’; face as the sword was replaced. The Governor examined the latest part of the wall with something like distaste upon his face. “So your people, the Brigante; they are at peace?”

  “Generally yes, but they have risen against Rome before and they may do again. It is why we have to be constantly vigilant.”

  Nepos reined in his horse. “Look at that wall, Appius, it would not stop a donkey. We must have the wall higher and we need more turrets and mile castles.”

  “The trouble is Governor that it is expensive in both materials and manpower to build. The Emperor was keen for it to be continuous and speed was of the essence.”

  “I do not dispute that decurion but once it is closed we will continue to improve it so that the barbarians here know who rules them! Rome.”

  Metellus was pleased to see Rufius return to the new fort. He had increasingly lost patience with the hundreds of mindless little problems which had arisen during the finishing off of the new fort. Now that the prefect and the rest of the ala was in one place Metellus could get back to running the ala and not supervising a building. When Rufius gave him the letter and the cake his day was complete.

  “I see you have recruits? We shall need them. Marcus suffered a few losses and eight men have retired.”

  “But not you eh Metellus?”

  “Not yet but soon Rufius. The fort has taken its toll. I can cope with the fighting and the patrols but not the lists and the ledgers. As for the new recruits, give the best three to Marcus. The Legate and Prefect Sallustius always seem to give him the most dangerous tasks and he is the best trainer of trooperswe have.” It had been on the tip of his tongue to say since Macro but it was not needed, Rufius knew what he meant.

  “That will be Aneurin, Scanlan and Vibius
Gemellus.”

  “Two recruits with Brigante names? That is unusual is it not? Most change their name when they are recruited.”

  “If you remember Metellus you were normally bullied into it until you changed. I think this bodes well for them that they stood up to the pressure. Besides they are Brigante and that will please Marcus. The other lad is a little older but he seems bright as a new pin and he is good with weapons. I saw him having a practice bout or two and he can handle himself.”

  “Good, for action is coming. The Selgovae and the Votadini are planning a joint attack. We don’t know where but we know it will be soon.”

  “Any more good news! And the wall isn’t even finished yet.”

  “I think that is why they are joining together to hit us before it is finished.”

  That evening the Camp Prefect decided to hold a small feast for his guests. It was not his first choice but the sniffy comments and dirty looks from the Lady Flavia ensured that he would have to do something. All of the senior officers were invited. The three women were highly flattered to have such attentive males. They had all put on a little extra make up and dressed just a little more provocatively. The Lady Flavia took the place of honour with Lucius and Vibia surrounded by the officers. Metellus was amused by the whole event and Livius found it irrelevant but the legionary tribunes and auxiliary officers fell over themselves to speak with the young ladies. Lucia found herself between a legionary tribune and a Tungrian prefect; she fluttered her eyelids and laughed coquettishly at the jokes they made. Vibia, in contrast was coolness personified. Appius found himself more and more intrigued by the stunning green eyed beauty. She avoided the attentions of the younger officers and attempted to engage Livius in conversation.

  “Didn’t I hear somewhere that you are related to one of the last kings of this land Prefect Sallustius?”

  Livius smiled at the memory. “Very distantly. My uncle, who was a former Governor was descended from King Cunobelinus.”

  Lady Flavia stopped mid mouthful. “Royalty then?”

  “Not any more.”

  Appius watched the interplay with interest. The Prefect of Marcus’ Horse showed politeness, nothing more and he wondered at Vibia’s motives. He resolved to speak with her himself privately when he had the opportunity. She was intelligent and pretty; he felt certain that he could bend her to his will. She might prove an ally in the Governor’s camp. He had noticed that the Lady Flavia heeded the young girl’s opinion. She was, of course, older than Lucia and her maturity showed. He noticed that Lucia flirted with officers who could not advance her; none of the officers was marrying material and would spend their lives on the frontier whereas Vibia was polite and nothing more He did not know about Livius’ connections. He could not see how he could use the information yet but he stored it for future reference. The ala called Marcus’ Horse was intriguing. Not only was it commanded by a royal, it also boasted a royal sword. If one added to that the fact that it was the most successful force on the frontier then Livius was a man to be cultivated.

  When Livius excused himself Appius found himself next to Vibia. “You seem remarkably well informed about the men on the wall.”

  She shrugged and gave him a coy smile, “I lived alone in Eboracum for some time before gaining employment. I made a point of seeking information.” Her looks became sad. “As an orphan I did not know what opportunities might arise and I was determined to make the most of them.” She leaned in to speak more confidentially to him and he got a whiff of jasmine and rose, “to be truthful I was running out of funds when you found me. Eboracum is a cheaper place to live than Camulodunum but it still costs coin to eat. I am grateful to you.”

  Appius was suddenly aware that here voice had become lower and huskier and she was perilously close to him. He found himself becoming aroused. “I am pleased that I could be of some help to you and if you need me to do more then you just need to ask.”

  Her deep green eyes opened wide and her long lashes fluttered for just a moment. “Believe me, when I need your help I promise you that I will ask.”

  In the event the Governor and Legate were wrong about the barbarian intentions. The plans were more subtle than the normal barbarian mass raid which ended in failure. This had been planned and thought through by leaders who had fought Rome before and lost. They would not lose again. Far to the south Briac and his warrior band were tracking the wagon loads of grain and cement as they left Cataractonium and headed the short way to Morbium. Although the land was flat between the two forts there were more than enough places for men to hide and swoop down on the slowly moving wagons. The half century of Batavians who escorted the wagons hated the duty as did their commander; he always allocated his least dependable men for such a task. They escorted from Eboracum until Morbium and then the Prefect of Batavians changed for a better half century. The journey north was dangerous country with more places for ambush. Briac had watched the wagons on many occasions and knew the men and knew the route. He had over a hundred disenchanted Brigante with him as well as some who just wanted to kill and to fight. Briac didn’t mind. This would be the nucleus of his army and with increasing success would come increasing numbers. Once the northern tribes flooded over the frontier they would have their insurrection.

  When Briac had seen that there was none of the dreaded Marcus’ Horse escorting the wagons, he knew that they could win. His men lay less than thirty paces from the road side hidden by brown mottled cloaks. To the Roman escorts they looked like rocks but they were forty Brigante warriors, eager for blood. Briac and the remainder of the force were waiting on the ridge below the skyline. He had chosen an ambush site equidistant from the two forts and the only danger would be from a courier. He waited until the lead wagon was almost at the last of his men and then he and his Brigante screamed down the slope. Even without the men hiding close by he would have attained his ends for the soldiers in the half century took too long to lock shields. Even as they began to move together the rocks moved and the forty warriors emerged with sharp daggers and swords, almost at their feet. The wicked blades found the spaces between their armour and their shields. There was neither cohesion nor order. The optio in charge tried to rally his men but Briac strode up to him with his two handed axe and smashed it down onto the optio’s shield. The arm shattered along with the shield and, as he cried out in pain, his life was mercifully ended by a hammer to the head.

  The men with the wagons tried to escape but they were rundown and dragged from their seats and butchered like cattle. Taking the soldier’s weapons the Brigante began to plunder the dead bodies. Briac slapped, with the flat of the captured sword, the back of a man who tried to despoil a body. “We have no time for that! Get the wagons out of sight.”

  By the time the wagons were overdue and horsemen sent to find it, the grain and the cement were hidden in the hills far beyond any road. They had no use for the cement but it slowed down the wall building and they would be able to use the wheat and sell some of it. Their attack had been totally unexpected and successful. Briac’s war had begun. The Brigante were fighting back.

  The Governor had completed his brief visit to the construction site of the new wall when the messenger from the south reached the frontier. He was busily engaged with Legate Demetrius discussing how to improve the quality of the wall and make it even more imposing when the clerk knocked on the Legate’s door. “Messenger from Morbium sir.”

  “Tell him we will be out momentarily.” Julius carried on talking to make his point to the opinionated Roman. “The trouble is Governor that making a better finish will only delay the time it takes to finish the wall. We need to use the two cohorts who are building the wall to conduct a punitive raid against the local tribes. They cannot do that if they are still building the wall.”

  “I realise, Julius, that you are a friend of the Emperor but you must see that I am only trying to make the best defence we can. Besides it will give us time to find the resources hidden beneath the hills to the west. I under
stand from my aide, Appius Serjanus, that they are extensive and might increase the coffers of the province.”

  Julius could see what a greedy pair they were and that they had no concept of military matters. He yearned for the days of Agricola and Paulinus. He would get nowhere with him. He smiled, obfuscation was the best option. Once the Governor was back in the south he would be able to complete the wall as he and Hadrian had planned. “Very well sir and now there is a messenger from the fort at Morbium. I suspect it maybe important or they would not have bothered us.” He went to the door, “Come in.”

  The messenger had ridden hard and the sweat could still be seen caked with the mud from the journey. “Sir, the Brigante have cut the road from Eboracum to Morbium. The grain and cement supplies have been stolen.”

  Julius gave a wry smile. “Well it seems that we will be unable to actually finish the wall, let alone improve it Governor.”

  “You mean we are trapped here? That is appalling. My wife. The barbarians!!”

  “Keep calm Governor. Morbium is many miles from here. We have two cohorts of legionaries and another two cohorts of auxiliaries to protect you. I will detail all but two turmae from the ala to deal with this problem.”

  “That is less than one thousand men. Will it be enough?”

  “Trust me Governor it will be enough but the more worrying issue is that this confirms a rumour we heard that the three tribes had combined. It means that the Selgovae and the Votadini will be on the rampage too. You and your wife had better make yourselves comfortable in Coriosopitum until we have sorted it out.”

  When the Governor told his wife she almost had a fit. “No! I am not staying here. It is barbaric. Eboracum was bad enough but this is little more than a hut. I want to return to Eboracum.”

  For once the Governor agreed with his wife. His conversations with the other officers had shown him that the most reliable auxiliary troops were Marcus’ Horse. If they escorted them south then they would be safe. He told the Legate that he would be returning to Eboracum. Julius was relieved for himself but felt sorry for Livius who would have to travel at a snail’s pace all the way back to Eboracum.