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

by Griff Hosker

  Dere Street was less safe now than before the demise of the Ninth. Coriosopitum was isolated and close to Votadini war bands. Its position on the north side of the river meant that it protruded into what Lugubelenus considered Votadini land. The Camp Prefect had been delighted to have reinforcements just south of him for it meant he had double the number of men to defend the vital crossing of the Tinea. Apart from the Explorates none of them had been this far north before and, although it looked similar to the land they had patrolled for the last few months, it has more hills, long undulating climbs with blind summits and more places to ambush the unwary. All of them were nervous and all of them delighted to crest the ridge and look down upon the frontier fort and the stone bridge.

  Livius turned to Cassius. I can see that the new fort is further east than the old one.”

  “Aye and it looks as though the defences have been improved.”

  Every time Livius looked on the site he admired Agricola even more. It had been the general who had seen what a perfect site it was. It was close to the Tinea close to the juncture of the two tributaries of that important waterway. There was a flat area which gently rose to its front and the river protecting the rear. “It’s as safe as anywhere Cassius but we are now at the most northerly fort in the Empire.”

  “A sobering thought.”

  Livius and Cassius left their men to begin work on the camp while they went to pay their respects to Gnaeus Turpius, the Camp Prefect. Like Arvina he had known some of them from Marcus’ Horse days when he had been a young optio and was glad that veterans commanded this new ala. “Glad to see you boys. We feel a little isolated up here.”

  The sentries all had a haggard, hunted look about them which both Livius and Cassius had noticed. It contrasted with the relaxed appearance of the garrison stationed at Morbium. “Are things difficult here then?”

  “We don’t patrol any more. The last six we sent out either never returned or were attacked just north of the fort. Even staying on the road we are attacked.”

  “Which explains the lack of intelligence then? “The Prefect spread his arms and shrugged as though to say that was impossible. “You have heard nothing?”

  “The occasional visitor tells of the king building a new fortress on the rock at Din Eidyn and there have been supplies heading through the gates to his oppidum. He has many guests coming, that is certain.” Although the Votadini and Rome were not friends the Roman artery was still the main and most efficient means of moving goods from the south to the barbarians in the north. They might resent Rome but they liked Rome’s goods.

  “They don’t usually attack in winter do they?”

  “They aren’t that kind of supplies they are more in the nature of hospitality goods; blankets, amphorae of wine, that sort of thing. The traders further south must be making a fortune. Besides they captured so many arms from the Ninth that they don’t need to import weapons for the foreseeable future.”

  “Well Prefect we don’t want to upset the locals but we are going to probe the region. We need to find out what they are up to for the new Emperor Hadrian wants a complete assessment of the security risks on the frontier.”

  “Well I can tell him in one word, high! Any time they want to they can come straight through here. There are crossing points further upstream they could use and with just one cohort here and the other forts equally thinly garrisoned well… they destroyed the Ninth didn’t they?”

  Livius could see that morale was an issue. “I think the Ninth were badly led by an incompetent legate. Would you have taken the Ninth into those forests?”

  “I wouldn’t have taken my lot in there, never mind close order infantry. You are right but don’t be fooled ,this King is not like the other barbarians; he considers, thinks and plans and his wife is shrewd too.”

  “Radha isn’t it?”

  Something in Livius’ voice alerted the prefect, “Yes, have you heard something?”

  “We have news that a high born group of Votadini women travelled south and have returned north with Morwenna.”

  “Shit! That is all we need, the fucking Witch Queen up here again!. If you don’t mind I will keep that from my lads. They are a superstitious lot anyway and some of them remember the last time she came and what she did.”

  “We will get back to our camp. I intend to have half the ala patrolling the south bank of the Tinea. The rest of us will be working further north, in Votadini country.”

  “Good luck to you then and watch your bollocks. The bodies we found had neither bollocks nor dicks nor noses. Fuck knows what they use them for.”

  As they walked with the Prefect down the slope towards the bridge Livius nodded at the walls and buildings. “I see you have beefed up the defences then?”

  “Yes but every time we try to put more stones in to make the walls higher some bugger attacks us and the work is slow. The men have one eye on the forests and don’t build as well as they should. It’s why I am so grateful to you and your boys. We can leave the patrolling to you and just make us a little more secure. I’d like deeper ditches and higher walls before the snow falls. Once it is winter here you just hunker down and try to survive.”

  “I know. When my quartermaster arrives I will have to give him the thorny problem of getting some fodder here.” They were just crossing the river as he said this and he stopped making Cassius and the prefect look at him.

  “Are you all right sir.”

  “I am an idiot Cassius, an idiot. All the rivers flow to the sea! Simple enough eh?”

  Bemused by the enigmatic Decurion Princeps the camp Prefect returned to the fort while Cassius tried to get inside the complex mind that was Livius.

  * * * * * *

  Gwynfor and his men were becoming bored. They had sat at the river crossing for over a week and the only people they had seen using the bridge were tribesman. Not even a merchant had ventured across, much to the chagrin of those waiting, who would have relieved them of their goods and money. Gwynfor was wondering just how long he had to wait when Idris ran up the trail. “A Roman cavalry patrol thirty of them.”

  Gwynfor was disappointed. Thirty was too many for them to take without either losing too many men or risking discovery. They would have to follow and see if the Romans made a mistake, in Gwynfor’s experience that was unlikely but one never knew.

  Spartianus was enjoying his freedom. This was the third day they had patrolled and there was no one either to criticise or watch and he ruled his turma as he had done the ala with insults, threats and bullying. He had found two candidates to join his coterie, Querelus and Suetonious. Both were new men but not young men and it had not taken much persuasion for them to accept his offer of advancement in return for their support. Leaving the rest of the turma he took his two potential allies, north for a reconnaissance he told the others, but in reality for a conference. Once they had crossed the primitive bridge he had them dismount.

  “Now I know that you are committed to my cause and will help me to regain the ala. What I need to know is who else might join us?”

  Suetonius was the bolder of the two. “The trouble is, sir, that most of the lads like their officers, especially the Decurion Princeps. And they all think the sun shines out of the arses of the two sergeants.”

  Querelus was a little more devious. “Of course if any of the lads got into trouble and were punished then they might turn against the bosses.”

  “I like your thinking. Let’s try to work out how to do that.”

  Gwynfor and his men had closed to within thirty paces of the trio. While two of his men watched with bows strung, Gwynfor led the others on foot to below the bridge. He gestured for three of them to climb up one side whilst he and the others climbed the other. They were stealthy but the sides of the bridge were bare and that was where they could be seen. It was just one man’s bad fortune to slip on the slippery muddy bank just as he was going to pull himself up on to the bridge. Aelius reacted the quickest and slashed down instinctively with his sword
. Although the blade missed his target the two archers fired at the same time and Suetonius received an arrow in the leg. The three Romans quickly mounted their horses and fled across the bridge. The rest of the turma had heard the noise and were armed and ready to support their comrades. Cursing his luck Gwynfor led his men back to their horses.

  “I have had enough of this. You remain here while I ride to Traprain Law and speak with the Queen. It is a waste us being here. We need more men if we are to ambush successfully.”

  As he rode north east the others began to take apart their erstwhile leader. “He just doesn’t want to live in a field.”

  “He always wants to be near Morwenna.”

  “I would rather have Idwal now he is a good leader, not a piss pot like Gwynfor.”

  Aelius and the patrol bandaged Suetonius and then rode back as swiftly as they could. He had wondered if he ought to head for Vindolanda which was slightly nearer than Corio but the thought of more barbarians waiting for them convinced him to head back to his own fort. Metellus was back in camp, having had the shortest and least successful patrol. “Did you catch a look at them? Were they Votadini, Selgovae, Brigante or that bunch we saw with Morwenna?”

  “We just got out of there as quickly as we could. If we had stayed then we might all have been killed. Is that what you want?” Part of Spartianus’ anger was that he knew, as an officer that Metellus was right and another part was frustration that he had been nearly killed in an inconsequential little skirmish.

  Metellus sighed, had it been any other decurion he would at least have had a description. One of the turma stepped forward. “I saved this sir. I don’t know if it is any help.” He brought out the arrow which had struck Suetonius.

  “Good lad. This is perfect. “He examined the arrow from every angle. “It isn’t Votadini, Selgovae and it isn’t Brigante. It is definitely not Roman. It is one of Morwenna’s men’s which makes me wonder why they were there.” He turned to the turma. “Thanks lads and this is a good lesson, thankfully not fatal. You need to keep your wits about you up here. We are on the frontier. Beyond that river everyone is an enemy which is why we try to keep you south of the river.” Metellus glared at Spartianus who stomped off with Querelus. To no-one in particular Metellus said, “Now I wonder what those three were doing north of the river? “

  Part three- In dangerous waters

  Chapter 14

  Livius and his patrol had headed north up the Roman road. It was not in the pristine state that the legion building it had intended for the undergrowth had grown in closer to the sides making it less safe and more prone to attack. He had chosen this route for himself as it was the most dangerous. The others were spread like fingers in the forests, heading west and east. The road steadily rose until, about two miles from Coriosopitum; he found himself looking down on an enormous swale which was like a dry river valley running east to west. He halted the patrol and turned to the troopers behind him. “You two split up and make sure there is no one in the forests on either side. You two, “he ordered the next two. “Keep your eyes peeled ahead of us. I have a bit of drawing to do.” The rest of the turma edged forward to watch their leader as he took out a wax tablet from his saddle bag and began to use a stylus to draw the view ahead.

  One of the braver ones nudged his horse forward and ventured, “Never seen that done before sir. Do all the decurions do that?”

  The others backed their horses away, especially the ones who had served with Spartianus. That sort of comment would result in a beating. Livius smiled. “No, just the ones who were Explorates but it is a good habit. Keep your eyes open, “he said to the turma at large, “and always try to remember what you see. Never be afraid to tell an officer if you have seen something of interest. It could save someone’s life. And now we can venture a little further, “he whistled twice, a signal he had taught his turma straight away, and the scouts returned. “Anything?” They shook their heads.” We are now in enemy territory. If we have to return to the fort then we do so at full speed. Clear.”

  They all chorused, “Sir, yes sir!” and Livius led his first patrol into the enemy’s lair. He took them north west and found the land largely devoid of people. In the distance he could see a few farmsteads with small herds of cattle. He avoided those. After a couple of miles he saw that the land rose steeply and when he reached the top he saw that it dropped quite steeply, preventing further movement north. He took out his wax tablet and sketched again.

  Later that night Livius sat in his tent with the other, as he called them, Explorate Decurions discussing the events of the day and what they had discovered on their patrols. “So,” said Livius, “we have a patrol attacked over here by an indeterminate number of warriors, probably Morwenna’s. There is no other sign of any barbarian force within ten miles of this fort.” He looked around, “That it?”

  He noticed that Macro was squirming a little, “Well not entirely sir.” Marcus looked equally embarrassed. “I changed into civilian clothes and visited one of the villages. I pretended I was on my way south to visit Brigante relatives.” Livius had to smile to himself. Macro was a born Explorate. He could see him now heading south through the settlement to make it look as though he had passed through much Votadini territory already to allay any suspicious they might have. “They were all going on about how the cowardly king of the Selgovae, Aindreas, had died and his son was the new king. They seemed really happy about that.”

  “We saw him flee the battle didn’t we when the Ninth were almost beaten.” Macro and Marcus nodded. “I think if they hadn’t we might have all been massacred. It is no wonder that the Votadini aren’t happy.”

  “There’s more sir. They have a meeting planned for the Yule up at Traprain Law and every tribal leader is attending.”

  “And Morwenna is there.” They all took in Livius’ words. It was the final piece of the jigsaw. “Well thank you all, especially Macro who doesn’t yet understand that he is now in the army and no longer an Explorate. Cassius if you could stay, I have a report to write.”

  When they were alone Cassius said, “I assume this is a report for the Senator?”

  “Yes, I need to give him my assessment on the Governor and on the situation here. That meeting at Traprain Law is just the sort of job we would have taken on when we were Explorates you know. A shame we haven’t any available at the moment.” Cassius was busy rearranging the chairs and did not see the glint in his commander’s eye. Livius coughed and went on, “I have some ideas about the limes the Emperor wants to build. I took a drawing today.”

  “You know who we could use don’t you?”

  Livius scratched his head with the stylus as he thought. “Can’t say that I do.”

  “The new clerk, Julius Longinus. He can’t know about the code and the message but he is a writer and he could draw a map for you couldn’t he? All of us could give him the information the patrols collect. If it is on paper it is easier to look at and take it in. “

  “Good idea. Tell him tomorrow!”

  “With pleasure! Hen’s scratching indeed.”

  Livius wondered how long it would be before Cassius had his revenge, a mild form, but revenge nonetheless. “I also have some things I would like the senator to acquire for us. Perhaps we’ll see old Hercules sooner rather than later eh?”

  Cassius had given up trying to work out what Livius meant. He seemed to working at a different level to the rest of them. Livius was indeed thinking on a different level for his time with Julius and the Emperor had shown him the importance of small actions. All of his life had seemed to prepare him for this point, the training with Marcus Maximunius, the imprisonment, the service with the ala and the experience of encountering the witch, Morwenna, the training and life as an Explorate and, finally, the hunting of his brother and the treasure, all of that had made him what he was now. He no longer thought of the plans for the next day or even the next week; he was thinking further ahead, to the day when the Emperor would come to build his limes in Nor
thern Britannia. He was not just thinking of the ala next week, but in a year when, perhaps, it would be Cassius who would be in charge and now he was planning his letters to the Senator which would set in motion events which, he hoped, would secure the frontier, at least for the next generation if not beyond.

  * * * * * *

  Gwynfor made good time covering the seventy miles to the Votadini capital. Morwenna did not know why he had deserted his post but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Radha had pressed her husband into building a round house for Morwenna. This suited both of them for it was a place safe from men who might eavesdrop and a place of privacy for intimacy. It was just outside of the ramparts but well protected in the unlikely event that they were attacked. Morwenna took the warrior into her new home.

  “We waited for over two weeks and only one patrol came, they were Roman cavalry. We tried to capture one but there were thirty of them. We either need more men or a better strategy. This is just a waste of time.”

  Morwenna did not answer immediately. She was thinking. She went to the door and said to her guard, “Go and fetch the Roman deserters.” She returned to Gwynfor. “I left you with a simple task and you deserted your post.”

  “But it was a waste!”

  “I decide what a waste is and what is not.” Her eyes flashed the anger which the words did not and he felt himself begin to quail before her. She lifted not a finger but he felt as though he had been struck.

  “No! Please! Forgive me. I will not let you down again.” When he was on his knees, almost sobbing, she relented and gently stroked his hair, as though he were a puppy she had chastised and was now petting.

  “I know you will not so for the next time you do, you will die.” She went to her seat which was next to the table. Radha had ensured that the seat looked magnificent. One of the Votadini woodworkers had been preparing the seat as a gift for the King of the Novontae but now Morwenna sat upon it, a queen on her throne, raised above the others and regal. The guard called from the door and Morwenna called, “Send them in.”