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

by Griff Hosker

  “Besides the role would be short term. Once you have brought the ala up to strength then you would be promoted to Prefect. As that means you would need to be a member of the equestrian order I have provided the papers. You are now an equestrian citizen of Rome.”

  Julius raised his beaker. “I would say welcome Livius but this particular club is more disreputable than a Selgovae slave raider’s party!”

  “As I do not understand that I assume that it is a Britannic reference.”

  “Yes sir it is.”

  “What are your plans now then sir?”

  “I merely came here to put in place certain actions which may become necessary in the foreseeable future. Sorry to be so cryptic but the less you know the less I can be hurt.” Julius waved a dismissive hand while Livius still ruminated on his sudden elevation to the roman aristocracy. “I intend to return to Cilicia and the Emperor. Things are still undecided in the East.” He looked carefully at Julius. Are you staying or should I say hiding nearby?”

  “I have a villa on the cliffs at Surrentum. Not far from the old villa of Augustus.”

  “And people are used to seeing your visitors come and go?”

  Intrigued Julius leaned forward. “Yes but why?”

  “I was going to sail into Ostia and send my messenger to, well deliver my message, but that would mean the whole world would know my business. If I land at your villa then I can send my messenger by a more, shall we say discreet means.”

  “Certainly.”

  Livius’ mind was working as sharply as ever. “We have a passage from the sea, away from prying eyes. No-one would know that you were there.”

  “Good.”

  “There is one worry though. We believe that Lucius has sent killers to eliminate my young friend and myself. The villa may not be the safest place.”

  “Worry not. I have a hundred trained men here. That is sufficient bodyguard.”

  Livius continued his train of thought, “And if we took ‘The Swan’ then there would be even less interest than an Imperial Trireme as the old ship puts in and out all the time.”

  Hadrian slapped Livius on the back. “I can see that we made a wise choice. We will leave after we have eaten. That will give your captain time to bring his ship around and moor it behind my trireme so that my Praetorians can board unseen.”

  By the time they had been taken to the port it was becoming dark. ‘The Swan’ was bobbing in the slight swell, a little lower in the waterline than before, Livius noticed. They were about to board the galley which would transport them when Hadrian’s sharp eyes picked out a fast messenger boat hurtling towards them. He raised his hand to prevent his bodyguard hurling their spears in its direction. “Rest easy. This boat I know.” An Imperial messenger leapt from the boat some paces from the shore and waded as quickly as he could manage to hand Hadrian a sealed packet.

  “From the Empress,” he lowered his voice, “Divinity.” Livius and Julius were the only others who heard the message and shared a glance.

  Hadrian appeared as though he had been told it was time for dinner. “I will read this on your boat.” To the messenger he said, “Get some food and tend the boat. Rest if you can. I will return with a message before midnight.”

  Hercules looked uncomfortable when Hadrian boarded. He was not used to such high company. He had been relieved that he was still alive but unhappy at the eighty men crammed below his decks. Julius just said, “Back to the villa and moor in the usual place.”

  They left Hadrian to open and read his missive in the privacy of the lee deck where no-one could see, hear or read. When it was read he tore it into pieces and dropped the pieces overboard. He came over to them, still in a very calm and measured frame of mind. “I trust you will keep this to yourselves.”

  “Of course div… sir.”

  Hadrian smiled. “You are both wise choices.” He gestured for them to come close. “Decurion all my instructions will come through the Senator. And yours will go through him. You will need a code. You Explorates are good at that sort of thing aren’t you?” Livius nodded. “The letters will ostensibly be an exchange between old friends. Livius,” his eyes bored into those of the Briton. “I need to know everything! No matter how trivial it appears. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Sir.”

  “Good and now let us get ashore however briefly while I make my plans which are now even more critical.”

  Leaving just ten Praetorians to guard the ship, they began to wend their way up through the passage. The light was just dipping below the horizon and a pink glow seemed to spread like fire across the water from the isle they had just left. The still air was warm enough to make them shiver as they ascended the stone steps up to the cliff top villa. Julius ensured that he was the first through the doorway into the villa. His men had been told to guard all the entrances to the sanctuary and Julius did not want the new Emperor to die because his men thought he was an intruder.

  Gaius greeted them when they arrived, looking in surprise as the column of Praetorians began to spread through the building efficiently setting up a perimeter. Livius looked on in amusement as ten of the Praetorians began to remove their armour and don civilian clothes. Swiftly moving, with Julius, to the senator’s office Hadrian began to ask questions and give commands. “Senator, have you horses?”

  “”Yes about eight.”

  “Good that will have to do.”Turning to his Centurion he said, “Make sure the entrance is clear of any observation.”

  Julius held up his hand, “If I might suggest sir that my man Cato scouts. He will attract less attention than a heavily armed Praetorian.”

  “Good thinking. Yes that will do. Centurion I believe there is one entrance. Put six men there and then have the rest line the perimeter wall but keep out of sight. Now Julius I need to write some messages. Do you have a clerk?”

  “I have Atticus, a Greek doctor who teaches.”

  “Can he be trusted?”

  “He can.”

  “Then the three of us will write some letters.” He turned to a Praetorian. “We do not want to be disturbed.”

  As they disappeared into the office Livius was left wondering what he ought to do. Furax had heard the commotion and come from his room. His young face was shocked into a grimace of terror when the Praetorian blades were pointed in his direction. “He is harmless, at least to others. He lives here.”

  The Centurion slid his blade back into his scabbard with a sharp ring. “He nearly died here running around like that.”

  “What is it Livius?”

  “Nothing to worry you Furax. Let us say that we are safer now than we were. Now try to keep out of the way. These are not like Cato and the lads, these are very serious soldiers.”

  Just then Cato entered and looked around for Julius. When he didn’t see him he came to Livius. “Sir there is a gang of men surrounding the villa. They are all armed.”

  The Centurion caught the tail end of the conversation and strode up to Cato. “You report to me!”

  Cato had been a legionary in the twentieth who had fought in Britannia. As with all ordinary legionaries he resented the elite and arrogant Praetorians and he turned to face the huge centurion. “I was a proper soldier and fought in real wars. I am not some poncy over dressed Praetorian and I do not take orders from you.”

  Stepping between them Livius took charge. “Well spotted Cato. Well Centurion I think it would be a good idea to let this little band in and, as we outnumber them, surround them and finish them off in the grounds. I don’t think your master would want any left on the road to ambush the messengers eh?”

  The Centurion stepped back and nodded to Livius. He did not know who Livius was but Hadrian appeared to respect his views and, on reflection, the plan was a good one. “You were an officer weren’t you?” Livius nodded . “It shows; more intelligence and honour than a legionary grunt.” He almost spat the last word at Cato. “Good plan. Keep your men close to the house. My lads will kill anyone not in Praet
orian uniform.”

  Livius could see anger infusing Cato’s face as the Praetorians left the building. “Guard the inside of the house Cato. These Praetorians may not be as good as they think they are and we do not want any getting through the perimeter and into the villa. I will join you.” He turned to Furax, handing him his dagger. “You stay with me and guard my back.” The young boy seemed to grow several uncia with the responsibility but Livius wanted him safe and the safest place would be behind him. There was an oppressive silence and then suddenly the sounds of blade on blade and then grunts and moans could be heard drifting in form outside. It was bizarre for Livius. He had seen many battles and skirmishes; he had a participated in many but this was the first time he had heard one. It was maddening to hear and not know what was going on. There were at least fifty Praetorians outside, he felt sure they must be able to despatch whoever Quietus had sent against them.

  Suddenly a Praetorian fell backwards through the door his neck a new grinning mouth pumping arterial blood. Cato and two of his men stepped up to face whoever came through the door but were bowled back to the rear wall as five men hurtled through the door; they were all well armed with swords and axes. Two of them had small shields and Livius, with a sickening realisation, saw that they were gladiators. The Praetorians were soldiers for show, these were warriors for hire and they were good. Picking up a stool for his left hand Livius stepped forward to face the two men who were heading for the study. One of them hacked down at Livius’ left side and he thrust the stool in the direction of the blow while stabbing forward with his own blade. The stool took the blow but shattered leaving Livius defenceless. His speculative stab had caught his opponent on the knee and he was able to fend off the second axe strike. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cato and his two companions being beaten back by the gladiators. This was the sort of scenario which was made for the mercenaries; there was no order, it was a confined space and they were incredibly well trained. It was only a matter of time before the handful of Julius’ men fell. The wounded swordsman came at Livius in an angry attack forcing him back. Livius tripped over the broken remains of the stool. It first saved his life as the sword scythed above his head but then almost killed him as the axe man sliced down on the recumbent, helpless decurion. Even as he lay there, knowing that he would not survive Livius chose honour and stabbed upwards at the swordsman. He would despatch at least one of his enemies. The blade entered the unprotected groin and there was a sudden rush of blood and entrails as one mercenary cried a noisy death. Livius could not move his sword which was embedded in the dying man and he braced himself for the blow from the axe. He looked up at the scarred and grinning face of the gladiator realising this would be his last sight in this life. He watched as the axe began its downwards arc and then watched as the look of exultation turned to a look of horror as the pugeo entered his ribs. Livius took his chance and rolled to the side. The blade, delayed enough to miss Livius, thudded into the dead swordsman. Livius grabbed the dagger still embedded in the side of the wounded gladiator and in one fluid motion slit his throat.

  The guard from the study had joined Cato and the surviving guard to finish of the three remaining gladiators. Seeing no other enemies Livius retrieved his sword and then turned to Furax who was heaving as sobs rippled through his body. Livius put an arm around the distraught boy. “That was bravely done Furax. I owe you my life and, “he pointed to the doorway where Hadrian stood with Julius, “that of an Emperor.”

  The Praetorian Centurion burst in and surveyed the scene. Cato spat a gob of blood at one of the dead gladiators. “Not bad for legionary grunts eh Centurion?”

  To his credit the Praetorian took his medicine and nodded his thanks to the old legionary. He turned to Hadrian. “The rest are all dead. They were gladiators. We managed to find out who sent them. It was Lucius Quietus. “

  Hadrian’s face did not show any emotion. “He has just signed his own death warrant. Centurion, get rid of the bodies over the cliff and have the messengers mounted and readied for their mission.” He paused. “What is the butcher’s bill?”

  “We lost fifteen men.”

  Cato glanced around, “Four.”

  “They will be added to the price our traitorous friends will pay.”

  It was just before dawn when the villa was back to a semblance of normalcy. The eight riders and two foot messengers heading for Rome, had been sent off in twos and threes over a period of an hour to maximise the chance of success. The Praetorians had begun to load ‘The Swan’ with the bodies of their dead, for burial on Capreae and Cato and his men had cleaned as much of the blood and gore from the once beautiful villa as they could.

  Livius was summoned into the study with Julius and Hadrian. “I owe you much, both of you and I will repay the debt. You at least deserve to know what will happen now an, after tonight, I know that of all men in Rome, you two are to be trusted with my life. “I have sent messages to Attianus and the Prefect of the Guard ordering them to arrest and imprison the traitors.” He saw the look of doubt on Julius’ face. “The Prefect I can trust. The Centurion found a traitor on the island and extracted the names of the traitors in the Guard. I will return to the Empress and secure the East. Senator I will charge you with returning to Rome to aid my guardian. As you know I have informed him of your role in all of this. That only leaves us with you, Decurion, and your role. ” he handed him a pouch. “In this are instruction for the Governor of Britannia to give you command of the Pannonian Ala and to afford you all the help you require.” he smiled ruefully, “He may not be happy for I know that many governors make a healthy profit from selling such promotion however he will follow my instructions. You still have your letter identifying you as frumentari?” Livius nodded. “Good then do not hesitate to use it. I have also given you permission to rename the ala as the First Sallustian Ala of Pannonians. It is a small thing but as you discovered with Marcus’ Horse and Indus with Indus’ Horse it makes a unit have a sense of identity. I think it goes someway to repay you and your family for the deeds you have performed for Rome. I will borrow your ship to return to Capreae and then it can drop the Senator off in Rome and, “he looked questioningly at Julius,” take you to Eboracum.” Julius nodded. “It seems the safest way. I will be coming to Britannia as soon as the East is secure. I need to know from you the best route for the defence we discussed. I want to know all the potential dangers both human and physical. Are you up to it?”

  “Yes Emperor.” He hesitated.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “If I am in the north with the ala then how will I know what the Governor is up to? The Senator will tell you that many Governors prefer the comfortable life in the south of the province to the hardships and rigours of the North. I want to do as you wish but I am struggling to see how I can garner the information you want and need.”

  “You were right about this man Julius, he thinks. The fact that the Governor is not in the North is valuable information but more than that is the information you send me about the state of the Province.”

  Smiling with relief Livius nodded, “That I can do.”

  “Good.” He came over and gave Livius the soldier’s clasp. “I am glad that the Emperor and myself made such a wise choice. If all Britons are as you then Rome’s frontier is safe for a thousand years.”

  Part Two- the poisoned tongue

  Chapter 6

  Morwenna had made Manavia her own little kingdom. Those who aspired to join the priests of Mona no longer went to Mona, now under the watchful gaze of the Twentieth Augusta, but instead travelled to the secure island sanctuary of Manavia. The former tormentors of the island, the Irish, were in awe of the Red Witch’s power and now acted as the island’s guardians, their pirate ships no longer preying but not protecting. Warriors also travelled from all over Britannia and Ireland to join the bodyguard of the Mother. This elite group of warriors had begun with Aodh, the Queen’s consort, and had grown over the years. Part of it was the glory of fig
hting for the famed queen who had bested the Romans so many times and who had almost defeated them outside Eboracum but also because there was a belief that her witchcraft imbued warriors with even greater skills. Others sent tribute to ensure that the power of the Mother was not directed against them.

  With her three daughters Morwenna ruled the island benevolently. An astute leader she knew that she needed the base as a refuge, a rock protecting her from the rapacious Romans. Perhaps one day the Classis Britannica might decide to take an interest and put an end to her security but as long as they had the pirates of the Mare Germania to contend with she was safe. She had watched with increasing joy as the Votadini and the Selgovae had destroyed the vaunted Ninth and so nearly claimed the eagle. Although not of her doing she took pleasure in knowing that the enemy of her revered mother, Fainch, had been humiliated and scattered to the winds. It confirmed the power of the Mother, for Morwenna had heard of the influence of Radha who seemed like a younger version of herself from the reports sent to her by her priestesses. However she was sceptical and would need to view the warrior queen before passing judgement; others had claimed powers that were fictitious. Had Radha not risked the perilous journey across Roman Britannia and the sea voyage she had considered visiting the court of the Votadini herself. This suited her plans far more for it showed that she held the young queen in her thrall.

  The Red Witch had stage managed the arrival of Radha into her presence. The dais was in the open beneath a canopy of mistletoe, elder and laurel. Fragrant bunches of rosemary and thyme were interspersed amongst the wood making the rustic structure look more regal. Her three daughters, Brynna, Caronwyn and Eilwen were arrayed before her, on the lower level, looking as though the Mother had sculpted models of the queen and made each one slightly different. They had all had their naming ceremonies when their bleeding began and they became women. Morwenna was already deciding on the mates for her daughters for that was an important decision and she knew from experience that if one did not choose wisely then mistakes could occur. She remembered her liaison with the Roman, Macro, which had resulted in an unwanted son. She had hoped he would have died before now but the next time he crossed her path he would die and that reminder of one of her few mistakes would be eradicated. The four women were dressed almost identically, the pure white shift adorned with nothing more than mistletoe and their coronets were the same, rosemary and mistletoe intertwined. They wore no jewellery but their lips were reddened with cochineal, making a striking image against their pale white skin and pure white dresses. Around her stood a line of warriors each one with a bare tattooed torso, a shining helm and a long sword; their bracelets and amulets a sign that they were all warriors who had killed many enemies.