by Griff Hosker
“Is your hypocaust not working Prefect?”
Livius and Gaius suppressed a smile as the Camp Prefect said, quite simply, “We do not have a hypocaust Governor. It was not deemed necessary.”
Marcus Bradua looked appalled. “But what do you do in winter? I believe it snows up here.”
“It does and we , well, we just freeze.”
“Why on earth the Emperor wants to hang on to this part of the Empire is beyond me. No olives, no lemons, the next thing you will be expecting me to believe that that there are neither dormice nor snails to whet our appetite.”
“Well actually Governor there won’t be. We only get the basic supplies here on the frontier.” Livius actually watched the Governor pale. “Fortunately thanks to the sergeant who escorted you we have some fine venison cooked by the ala’s cook.”
“Then we are in for a treat Governor.” Livius’ comments were halted by the entrance of the steaming plate of casseroled venison. The smell was aromatic and heady with herbs and fruits. Even the Governor forced a thin smile.
Septimus had served one of the trooper’s favourites for dessert a rich steamed pudding. He had used the last of the lemons given to him by Livius and the fact was not lost on the Governor. “Well, surprisingly, that was a good meal. A little basic but satisfactory and the smell of lemons made me feel quite homesick. You have a good cook there Decurion Princeps, hang on to him.”
“I will, don’t you worry.”
After Gaius had finished his wine he asked, “Where did you find him then Livius? Eboracum?”
“No on the back of a horse. He was an ordinary trooper. I asked for a volunteer to cook for us and… well that is all there is to it.”
“Hm. You seem to do things your own unique way Decurion Princeps.” Marcus Arvina detected something sinister beneath the statement. He just hoped that Livius had his wits about him. “For one thing how did you manage to get the ala named after you?”
“The Emperor made the decision, not me. It is after my uncle really sir. He was one of your predecessors, a Governor.”
“Executed for treason wasn’t he?”
The only sign that Livius had reacted to the baiting was the tight grip with which he held his beaker. “Yes and then he was found to be innocent. I think the Emperor felt that this was in some way a redressing of the dishonour.”
“The Emperor Trajan or the Emperor Hadrian?”
Livius had the measure of the man now. “The Emperor Hadrian.”
“Did someone tell me that he appointed you personally, that he actually met with you, a lowly decurion?”
Livius ignored the insult for he could see the quicksand before him. He couldn’t say that Hadrian and he had met in Italy for he, officially, had never left the side of the dying Emperor. “Yes I did have the honour of meeting with the Emperor who personally asked me to make sure that the frontier was safe until he can make a visit.”
Marcus Bradua looked up sharply. There was more to this young man than met the eye. “So you will control the whole frontier? My, you must think highly of yourself.”
“No Governor. The auxiliaries, who are stationed here, will control the frontier as they have done since before the time of Julius Agricola. The presence of my ala merely means that we can patrol more territory and react to incursions a little more quickly. The Decurion will tell you that is the best role for auxiliary cavalry.”
“Which is why, my friend, that I prefer the regular cavalry. Your line of work is far too dangerous.”
Marcus Bradua tried a different tack. “Didn’t I hear that you had led the Explorates?”
Livius smiled, “Yes Governor. They were exciting times.”
Gaius was now in his cups and enjoying the conversation, “Now they really are mad buggers. Operating behind enemy lines, wearing civilian clothes and no armour; you wouldn’t catch me I can tell you.”
“You are right Gaius. Out of my command of thirty there are but six of us left alive and the ones who remain are here in this ala.”
“Six out of thirty, Phew! I was right the odds on survival are slim.”
“Which begs the question, how did you and you five fellows manage it? Very convenient I think.”
Marcus Arvina could hold himself no longer. “Governor I think that the Decurion Princeps’ reputation is beyond reproach. He has done nothing which is dishonourable.”
Bradua shouted and slapped the table, “I will be the judge of that.” He looked slyly at Livius. “Perhaps I should send to Rome for a frumentari eh. See what they can unearth about you and your murky past. I believe they are good at getting answers.”
Gaius and Marcus both paled and moved away from the table slightly. Livius was being threatened by the Roman secret service and yet he appeared like calmness personified. He looked over at the Governor, almost telling him, that he had his measure. He slowly reached into the pouch which was hung around his waist and removed a document and he carefully placed it in front of the bemused Governor, the Imperial seal uppermost. “You don’t need to send to Rome, Governor, we have a frumentari here, in fact, there are another two within shouting distance and yes,” he added with a threat in his voice, “we do know how to get answers; from all kinds of people”
Marcus Bradua scrutinised the document desperate to find that it was a forgery. He began to pale visibly as he understood just how much power this lowly Decurion Princeps possessed. He handed it back, carefully folded, and then began to slowly rise. “Well it has been a long day and I need to…”
Livius gently restrained him. “Before you go Governor, I understand from my sergeant that you are compiling a report on the state of Britannia and its security. Well as of today and my last patrol I can report that the Red Witch of Mona, the Queen of the Brigantes in exile, Morwenna has joined forces with the Votadini and is heading north to meet with them.” Marcus and Gaius slumped in their seats; they too knew the import of the message. The Governor patently did not, looking bemused at the report, and Livius continued. “She led the last rising of the Brigante when she almost captured Eboracum and came within a whisker of defeating the Ninth. The Votadini actually did finish off the Ninth and many of my Explorates as well therefore if they do actually combine then we are in trouble. In fact the whole of Britannia is in trouble.”
“Er thank you Decurion Princeps. Excellent intelligence.” He gave a weak smile, “No rest for the wicked then. I will have to write the report before I retire for the night.”
When they heard his door slam shut Gaius and Marcus both burst out laughing. “Where did you get such a good forgery?” Gaius examined the document still lying on the table.
Livius looked him straight in the eye, “It isn’t a forgery. I am a frumentari although it is not a line of work I enjoy.”
Marcus Arvina poured them all a beaker of wine, “Allfather I will walk carefully around you from now on.”
“I am still the same man I was, Marcus.”
“I cannot believe you took all that crap from him when you had such power in your hands.”
Livius shook his head. “It is a secret Gaius. I was appointed by the Emperor Trajan and had it confirmed by the Emperor Hadrian but I do not like to use the power. I just wanted our Governor to realise that the soldiers of the north were not to be insulted.”
“I like you, Livius, but trust me I will never get the wrong side of you. By the way are there really other frumentarii with you?”
“Yes Gaius but before you ask I will not divulge their names and I hope that you will keep my secret.”
Marcus Arvina leaned over and said very seriously, “I think I can guarantee that we will take that secret to our graves but I will also say that I will sleep easier in my bed now knowing what a resourceful officer we have here on the frontier.”
“And I will thoroughly enjoy the journey back to Aqua Sulis watching a Governor who will be petrified of a knock on his door in the night and squirming at memory of his gaffes tonight!”
* * * * *
As the royal party crossed the Tinus, Morwenna halted the column. She turned to Radha. “You saw the Romans.”
“Yes, my husband will be angry when he finds out that they have left the Stanegate.”
“I can see, little one, that you are forgetting the lessons I taught you. Peace and calm. We use this to our advantage. This is not a problem, it is a solution. What do you think that patrol will report to their officers?”
“That they saw a column heading…”
“Heading where?”
“Why to the land of the Votadini of course.”
“Whereas we are heading for Aindreas and the court of the Selgovae. If you can misdirect your enemy then you are winning. We also now know where they are patrolling. I will leave Gwynfor and ten men. Who knows they may pick up a prisoner or two.”
The guards took up a position on the bluff close to the bridge and Morwenna led the depleted column north west towards the land of the Selgovae. “Will your husband have called the conclave?”
“Of course, Mother. It is a tradition in these parts that we celebrate the midwinter festival. The people expect to drink and eat well. If my husband is providing the food and drink then I can guarantee that every king and petty chief will turn up for a free feast.”
“I wonder which of my people will come.”
“Your people mother? The Druids?”
“No I am Queen of the Brigante through my father.” She laughed. “That son I had with the half witted soldier is probably the heir to the throne if he did but know it.”
“Have you never seen him then?”
“Not since I dumped him on that simple minded Ailis when he was but a child. There is a lesson to you Radha; unless the male child is to be a king and therefore of some use do not waste time wet nursing them. A sacrifice to the mother is much more profitable.”
Radha had much to learn and she was not convinced that she could ever kill a child of hers but then a few months ago she would never have believed that she could love a woman more than a man and that she would have been initiated in the most secret of mysteries and ceremonies. She knew she was changing but how far was the journey she had begun?
The scouts from Aindreas’ main camp spotted them as they meandered along the upper Tinus. The scout who saw them had been at the fateful battle when the Selgovae so ignominiously fled the field. Since then there had been border raids and blood feuds but he recognised the Queen, Radha and, although there were Votadini warriors with them, the vast bulk of them were not and that gave him pause. He turned to his companion. “Ride to the King and tell him that the Queen of the Votadini approaches with a party of armed men and ask him what I should do.”
As he settled in to the simple task of watching the huge party pick their way up the twisting banks and through thickets he wondered if this was the start or the end of a war. He had not enjoyed running away at the last battle, for his honour said that he should stay with his comrades but the king had made that fateful decision. It was even more galling that the Votadini won. As he chewed on the liquorice root he wondered if his king had gambled on the Votadini losing. He would not put it past his wily king. He did not like Aindreas but he was a loyal Selgovae. This might be an ultimatum but why send his beautiful wife into harm’s way. He remembered that the King of the Votadini had used that ploy before to draw the Romans into a trap. When his companion returned he would backtrack and make sure that this was not a trap. He wondered about the red haired beauty with them. There was something familiar about her but Garoc could not quite bring it to mind.
His companion galloped up an hour later. “I found the king and his men out hunting. He is quite near, close to the valley of the hawthorn. He has asked me to watch them while he speaks with you.”
Garoc knew that the king valued his opinion even though there was mutual dislike. As one of the older warriors, he had chosen to scout, mainly because it kept him away from court and close to the land that he loved. Aindreas greeted him like a brother. “Well done Garoc, greatest of scouts. Now tell me what you saw and, more importantly, what it means.”
Garoc ignored the obvious false flattery. “The Queen Radha is there with a small party of retainers, no more than twenty but there is a large party of heavily armed men who are not Votadini. They appear to be guarding a red haired woman, beautiful and familiar.”
Aindreas became excited. “This red head was she wearing a simple white shift and were her eyes a wonderful green.”
“Aye.”
“Then it is Morwenna the Red Witch!”
“That is her, now I remember. I was younger when I first beheld her but she was a beauty.”
“That makes it interesting. What is your assessment? Speak freely for I need honesty.”
As he spoke, the irony stuck in Garoc’s throat. His king was the most mendacious of men and as straight as the upper Tinea but he was his king. “It is probably a peace envoy, however, King Lugubelenus is a devious man and he may be putting his wife in harm’s way to achieve some strategical victory. I will, with your permission, back track and see if there is an army waiting to envelop us.”
“Good and I will go to greet the Queen and her entourage.” He turned to one of his bodyguard. “Go and tell the Steward to prepare rooms and quarters for a large number of guest and bid the warriors of my house to arm themselves, “ he paused, “just in case.”
Despite his misgivings Aindreas was confident that this was a peaceful embassy. The presence of Morwenna confirmed that in his eyes. She had been the catalyst for the last rebellion which had so nearly succeeded. Lugubelenus had not wanted a war but he had been drawn into one by the incompetent Romans. They could not count on incompetence too often. Agricola had been an example of a good Roman leader who had almost managed to conquer the whole of the island. The king knew his land, especially this area around his hunting grounds and he waited patiently for the visitors to arrive. Radha had had her scouts out too and was not surprised by the appearance of the king.
“Welcome Radha Queen of the Votadini and to you Morwenna, Queen of the Brigantes.”
Morwenna nodded, “You recognised me then?”
“Who would not recognise the moist beautiful Queen who defied the Romans for so long? If you would like to follow me my camp is but a little way through the forest.” He hesitated, “You were coming to see me where you not? What other reason could you have for wandering through Selgovae land?”
“It is my fault oh king,” Morwenna’s silky voice began to enchant all those who heard her. It was both mellifluous and magical. “I wished to see the land of the Selgovae again, having seen it when I was much younger. It is only a slight deviation from our intended route.”
“Your destination is not my home then?”
“No mighty king; I have been summoned to the conclave that the King of The Votadini is holding over the Yule festival and, as all the other important kings and queens will be there, I wanted to be part of it.”
Aindreas pulled his horse up sharply. “A conclave? Of all the kings and queens? All the chiefs? Why was I not invited?”
Radha rode next to him. “It may have been that my husband thought you may not have wished to come. You did part badly the last time you met did you not?”
Aindreas regained his composure. “Things are done, and said, in the heat of battle which are regretted by all parties. I certainly hold no grudge against the King of the Votadini.”
Morwenna touched his arm and he felt his whole body tingle. “I am sure you will be welcome there. In fact, “she turned to Radha, “I will stand surety that there will be no trouble and both you and your retainers will be safe from harm.”
Radha humbly bowed her head, “I am yours to command in all things.” The king was so flattered he did not see the sly smile exchanged between the two powerful women.
Garoc rode up and shook his head. He took his place at the head of the column. Aindreas smiled to himself. This was not a trap and it was peaceful. He would be able to us
e the meeting to his advantage; a widower, he was sure he could wood this most powerful queen and then Lugubelenus would see the cruel side of the Selgovae king.
His people were both intrigued and joyous that the two queens were visiting. Since Aindreas’ wife had died the kingdom had been a male dominated country and the wives of the nobles looked forward to see and speaking with these two famous warrior queens. The camp was partly made of stone and stood surrounded on three sides by water, atop a rocky knoll. The ramparts were wooden but the main hall was made of stone and timber. They halted before the gatehouse. “Your warriors will have to camp outside the walls I am afraid. We do not have room for them within.”
Radha’s men began to bristle and become agitated but Morwenna nodded imperceptibly to her acolyte and Radha spoke to her bodyguards. “If the Queen is happy with this then so am I. Besides, “she added, looking directly at Aindreas, “if anything happened to me, then not a Selgovae would be left alive would they?”
Aindreas took the point although the Queen would be as safe within these walls as in her own. They rode through the gate and the bodyguards headed for the field set aside for them. As they approached the hall they could see many of the noblest Selgovae waiting to greet them. Most prominent was a handsome young man, braid of shoulders with long red hair and a fine beard and moustache. His upper body was bare and rippled with muscles. At his side hung a mighty war axe which appeared to have all the weight as a bracelet, it was carried so easily.
Morwenna leaned over to the king. “Who is the fine looking man on the steps? Is he your brother?”
Flattered, the king murmured, “No majesty, he is my son Tole; the finest warrior amongst the Selgovae. I am immensely proud of him.”
“As you should be, as any father would be. I would deem it an honour to sit next to him tonight.”
“Your wish is granted.”
Morwenna rode next to Radha as Aindreas trotted up to the hall to announce them. Quietly Morwenna said, “I can see now that the Mother has planned all things. The boy becomes our tool and you shall soon have your revenge on the king.”
