Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 11] Roman Treachery

by Griff Hosker

  They rode in silence through the forest. “You have been quiet lately Vibius. Is there a problem?” Aneurin felt quite close to the older trooper since their encounter with the bandits and was somewhat in awe of the older and obviously brave trooper.

  He laughed easily, “No Aneurin, its just that we left the fortress so quickly I am not sure if I brought everything.”

  Suddenly Sextus’ gruff voice growled behind them. “Well if you have forgotten any equipment then you will be on a charge Trooper Gemellus!”

  “No Chosen Man, not equipment, just some personal belongings.”

  Sextus shrugged, “Well that’s alright then. A word of advice troopers, if you can’t carry it on yourself or your horse then don’t bother with it. We may not get back to Eboracum at all and even if we do there are some thieving bastards stationed there.”

  Vibius looked round in horror. “What? Never? But I thought we moved up and down the road all the time.”

  “Aye lad but we can’t guarantee it. We could be based at Morbium, Cataractonium, and Derventio… I have been in all of them. We are cavalry and they like to move us around and deal with problems quickly.” He softened his voice a little, “No son, this is where we are based so whatever you left in the fortress you better hope the Decurion Princeps picks it up for you.”

  In a distracted voice Vibius looked to the south as though he could see the fortress and his barracks. “Thanks Chosen Man. I will take your advice.”

  “So you see Legate the warband could be up to a five hundred strong or even more.”

  “And until we recapture the hostage we will not know when and where they will attack.” He stared at the map and the freshly marked site of the camp.

  “I saw nothing either, Marcus. But I doubt if they could have beaten you north which means they are still on their way and if they are going to get across the wall they will have to get by us.”

  Far to the west a second huge warband was gathering. Randal was not worried about the Votadini hostages. He would still carry out his part of the pact. He and his war chiefs saw a great opportunity. The vexillations from the Twentieth and the Second were already shifting men towards the gap. The Tungrian auxiliaries had built a new camp to help cover the possible invasion when the Votadini spilled over. Randal had not yet attacked the wall. It was part of his cunning that he had not done so. He was trying to lull the soldiers on the western side of the wall that the Selgovae were docile and accepting the monstrosity of the wall without even a whimper. He had a thousand warriors gathered and he had chosen his point of attack carefully.

  To the west of the high rocks and the deep water the Romans had built a turf, not a stone wall. It was close to the sea and not as well guarded s the centre and the east. He would take his men over along a two mile stretch of the wall and then use the very artery the Romans had built to service the road, the Stanegate, to attack them in their rear. Briac had been correct in one matter; the Romans were most vulnerable in their camps, where they thought they were safe. The Selgovae might have difficulty with a stone wall but wood was different, it burned!

  The turf wall had been completed early in the wall building programme. The vexillation of legionaries who had constructed it had moved eastwards. The wall was not as high as the one Iucher had attacked but it was wider. There were more mile castles but they were all made of wood and not stone. The only stone they used was in the foundations. The Tungrian auxiliaries enjoyed a quiet life in the west. They enjoyed a healthy diet of fish from the river and the sea. The original member of the cohort had been from the low lands of the Rhenus and even the new recruits had carried on the watery tradition. The prefect, Gaius Culpinus had heard of the problems in the east and thanked all the gods he could that his posting was a quiet one. He had five more years to go before retirement and he had a small place in Gaul already picked out where he would grow grapes and make wine.

  It was his custom, just after the last watch went on duty to take a walk down the wall with Centurion Garbo, the first spear of the cohort. It enabled them to plan the next day’s work programme while reflecting on the cohort and its morale. They had both served in Britannia for twenty years and knew what it took out of a soldier. They had served together for many years and had an easy and comfortable relationship which made for an efficient cohort. “I think we should deepen these ditches. The Gauls in the east were slaughtered because they weren’t deep enough to stop the barbarian bastards getting over them.”

  “I’ll put the third century on it tomorrow. It is about time they pulled their weight. I think we will pour some water on them and make them slippery.” He pointed at the river. “That is one thing we have plenty of.”

  Prefect Culpinus looked towards the western end of the wall. “Where is the light?” He pointed away. Isn’t that where the eighth century is on duty?” The lights were used to mark the mile castles and to help the guards see further along the ramparts.

  “If those dozy bastards have been using the oil for cooking instead of the torches I’ll have then digging shitters for the next ten years!”

  They both began to speed up as they headed towards the darkened area of wall. Every sentry saluted as the two men passed by, absentmindedly returning the salute. Suddenly the sentry who was about to salute was pitched off the wall by an arrow. Both officers knew what it meant. The Centurion roared, “Stand to! We are under attack.”

  The prefect drew his sword and turned, “I’ll get back to the gate.”

  “I’ll take charge here sir!”The look they exchanged was one of goodbye for they could see a horde of barbarians racing down the wide wall sending the sentries to their deaths. They had breached the wall and, once its integrity was gone, it was no longer a barrier. The first tent party had joined the centurion. “Right lads, shield wall here until the rest can join us.” The centurion joined six of them in a defensive line with the other two soldiers behind. The Selgovae were without armour but they were all armed with a shield as well as either an axe or a sword. They had learned from the Romans that a shield could make all the difference in a combat but they did not have the training which still gave the Tungrians the slightest of edges.

  “Steady! Throw!” The six pila all struck home, those that missed the barbarians still found a shield and rendered them useless. Garbo did not have a shield, he did not need one. Using his vine staff he stabbed one barbarian in the stomach while whipping the staff across the eyes of a second. A spear from the two man reserve finished off the blinded man and then all nine of them were in a hand to hand melee. The sheer weight of numbers forced the Romans back but their training took over and they all punched with their shields whilst stabbing with their swords. As more auxiliaries arrived the line was stabilised. Centurion Garbo cursed and swore at the Selgovae whilst exhorting his men to stand firm. Suddenly there were no more barbarians before them. Instead there was a mound of bodies. He turned to look at the men behind him. “We did it lads! Well done!” He turned to find just four men. Before him lay fifteen dead auxiliaries, testament to their bravery. “Well at least we put paid to their attack.”

  A wounded optio who was leaning against the ramparts tried to stand while a capsarius dressed his wound. “No Centurion. The main warband are there!” He pointed to the Stanegate and Garbo could see the warband streaming down the road; peering to the east he could see even more of them.

  “Get the torches all lit. I want a full report on casualties. I will be with the prefect.” As he hurried towards the gatehouse he saw the carnage on the wall. This was not a small attack; this was a full scale invasion. When he reached the gate he could see that it was wide open and the bodies around it showed the fight that the century there had put up.

  One of the other centurions, a bandage around his head approached him. “Sorry First Spear, the prefect didn’t make it. He’s there.”

  Centurion Garbo went over to one of his oldest friends; someone who had been in the cohort almost as long as he had. He had fought well but the bod
ies around him showed that he had had too many enemies. To no-one in particular he said, “Well your last plot of land won’t be in Gaul, Gaius, it will be here in this godforsaken shithole.”

  The warband ran all night and halted close to the small camp housing some of the men of the Twentieth Valeria Victrix. The four centuries were building a fort which would be on the wall itself. They had only arrived there the previous day having received the instructions by messenger from Governor Aulus Nepos. The Selgovae rested in the dips and hollows close to the fort. Randal was happy to let his men rest for they had done well and killed more Romans already than he had hoped. This, however, would be the greatest success if he could destroy the legionaries. He would have achieved far more than Iucher!

  The centurion in charge of the vexillation gathered his officers around him. “We will be here for some time and it gets fucking cold so Marius you keep a half century here and start to make some proper barracks I would like to be dry for at least part of the night.”

  Marius sighed in exasperation. “And where will I get the wood?”

  The senior centurion, Claudius Culpinus, shook his head and pointed at the forest to the south. “The two things they have plenty of here are trees and rain. Just cut down some trees. It doesn’t have to be the Temple of Claudius, just a roof and walls to keep us dry and warm!” Turning to the rest he roared, “Get your tools and quick march; let’s get this fucking wall built and then we can go home to Deva!”

  The three and a half centuries started to tramp out of the camp singing a particularly dirty marching song.

  When Randal saw them he waited until they were three hundred paces from the camp and then raised his sword. Five hundred Selgovae were suddenly unleashed upon the unsuspecting Romans. As soon as he saw them the senior centurion knew that they had moments to react or they would be dead. “Testudo!” Even as he did so he hoped that Marius would have seen the attack. If the camp could be held then they might just make it. The legionaries quickly formed the four wide testudo as the Selgovae battered in smashing their war hammers and axes at the scuta of the legionaries. Some of those who had fought against the Ninth remembered the vulnerability of the legs and thrust spears below the shields’ lower edges to try to hamstring the soldiers of Rome. The soldiers who had their legs gashed gritted their teeth and pushed on knowing that to fall out would mean death. Inside the fort the centurion, Marius, had sent ten men to guard the gate while the rest went to the ramparts with a supply of javelins. The Selgovae who came too close were plucked from their feet and killed but still the warband roamed around the edge of the testudo like a pack of wild dogs with a lone bull at their mercy.

  Inevitably, with the distance they had to cover there was a break in the integrity of the testudo and it came in the middle. Three huge Selgovae warriors battered two scuta in the middle of the armoured beast. Although a pilum stabbed out to gut one of them, the damage was done and the laminated scuta cracked open. The other warriors saw flesh and threw everything at the gap. Once the legionary fell the whole column was disrupted. Lucius Garbo, the senior centurion realised the danger. “Century testudo!” Immediately four testudo were formed but the one with the gap in it was surrounded by the Selgovae intent upon slaughter. While three testudo made their way slowly towards the safety of the camp the last one was whittled down by warriors who battered and hacked at the doomed men.

  The first testudo reached the safety of the camp and the centurion shouted, “Shield wall!” The legionaries changed into a two deep line with a bristle of pila peering from behind their shields. The second century made the gates and filled the ramparts. Soon the Selgovae found themselves under attack from the men on the walls and the men at the gates. By the time Lucius and the last century reached safety the destroyed testudo lay three hundred paces from safety a mass of bloodied and wrecked bodies.

  “Get that bloody gate closed and light the signal fire! Marius, give me a head count.” Even as he asked the question he knew that it would be a grim total. They had done well to reach the safety of the camp but it had cost them men, men who could not be replaced, and the Selgovae were now surrounding the camp. Even as he wondered how they would extricate themselves he saw two hundred of them heading towards the construction site, it did not take much imagination to realise that they were going to cause mischief. “Two steps forwards and one step back!”

  On the Via Nero, close to Eboracum Livius was trying to stretch his depleted and limited forces. The wagons and carts were still streaming north in increasing numbers and that meant that Metellus and the turmae were doing double duty. Metellus came to see him; his Decurion Princeps was looking exhausted and haggard. “We can’t keep going like this. The horses are suffering. We can order the men to keep on but the horses will just drop if we don’t rotate them.”

  Livius sympathised. “The trouble is the cement. We have the local stone but the wall cannot be built without the cement and that has to come from the south.”

  The decurion princeps was nothing if not a thinker and he had been running the problem through his head. He suddenly saw the solution. Metellus suddenly grinned. “Ships sir! That’s what we need.”

  “What do you mean ships?”

  “The wall is north of the Tinea sir. Why not send the cement by ship. A couple of boatloads equate to twenty or so wagon trains and it means we could be based on the wall. From the reports we have been getting it is becoming a little lively up there.”

  “Of course. It would be even easier if we had a better port there. I will see the Governor.”

  Surprisingly the Governor was all in favour of the idea. If it meant the Brigante would not be raiding the road then he and his family would be safer and if the supplied could be sent in greater quantities then so much the better. “An excellent idea prefect. I will send for the Navarchus and see what he can do.”

  “Then I will leave the Decurion Princeps here with four turmae and take the rest of the men to the wall. It will increase our search capacity for the girl.”

  “Yes my wife and Lucia are still highly upset. I want her back sooner rather than later.”

  “Perhaps it is good news that we have not had a ransom demand yet.”

  Far to the north a dirty and dishevelled Vibia was becoming desperate enough to try to escape. The problem was that she was tethered to a guard at all times. She had tried to demand a little privacy for her toilet but her guards merely laughed and she had had to suffer the indignity of them watching her. They had crossed another couple of rivers and she had seen Briac, for she now knew his name, becoming more anxious as they negotiated the obvious signs of Rome. She sensed that they were near to the frontier and had long ceased to use the roads. This made an escape even more unlikely for she was completely lost in the forest and would probably die of starvation even if she did manage to escape.

  Briac was grateful to see the Stanegate up ahead. He knew that, during the day, it would be impassable due to the heavy military traffic but night was another matter. He knew that had to head towards the gap in the wall. Although regularly patrolled by many Roman units, he might be able to sneak through during the hours of darkness and he hoped that Iucher had men watching for this was his usual route to the barbarians in the north. He watched the cavalry patrols return at dusk along the road and then saw the sun set slowly in the west. He led the small group off. If his hostage shouted or screamed he did not know what he would do; he couldn’t kill her, that would ruin her as a hostage and he contemplated gagging her. That too, was not really an option; he did not want her choking to death. He would have to rely on the fact that she was afraid. As he glanced at her he had to admit that she had held up remarkably well and still did not seem intimidated.

  Crossing the Stanegate was heart stopping. The cobbled surface meant that the horses made a noise which seemed to echo along the frontier. He halted them on the far side and listened for the tell tale sound of soldiers rushing to find them. Thankfully there were none. He knew where the gap had been
but he assumed that work had been done since his last visit and he headed further west. He saw increasing signs of Roman activity; there were more trees cut down and more trodden down and churned up patches of mud. He held his hand up to signal silence. To the east he could see the shadow of the wall and he headed his group further to the west. The horses were well chosen and they carefully picked their way up the rocky ridge. One dislodged stone could bring the guards Briac knew were nearby. Suddenly he heard a noise, as did his men. Their swords slid from their scabbards. A grinning face appeared next to Briac. It was a Votadini warrior, “Took your time didn’t you?”

  Vibia’s heart sank as they were surrounded by the small warband. Her escape plan would have to wait. She was north of the frontier and Roman help.

  The news filtered down the frontier that the Selgovae had launched their attacks in the west. Julius was beside himself. Although the Votadini still appeared to be holding back, the reports from Marcus showed that they were still a dangerous threat. That meant he could not despatch troops to aid the beleaguered soldiers in the west. The senior centurions had been told to deal with the problem as best they could. Of course it meant that all construction had slowed down dramatically. Ironically having the supplies did not help them so long as the threat in the north remained. He summoned Rufius. “Any sign of that girl?”

  “Not on the road sir.”

  “They must have reached here by now.”

  “The trouble is they could have come up through the forests we wouldn’t know where to look.”

  “I am not blaming you Rufius but we must know if she is up here. Where would they cross the frontier?”

  “It would have to be through the gap. If they came up at night they might get through.”

  Julius Demetrius had been a determined prefect when he had led the ala and he showed those qualities of leadership now. “Right, send Marcus to the gap, and see if his tracker can pick up their trail. Leave one turma here and you take the rest to the west and try to dislodge the Selgovae from the road. If they cut the Stanegate then we are in trouble. I will send a messenger to request the rest of the ala to join us.”