Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 10] Roman Hawk

by Griff Hosker

  Trygg had only brought a handful of men with him and Snorri was not amongst them. Marcus took that to be a sign that Snorri was not as suspicious of him as he had been for the warrior had been a little friendlier since the Roman had been teaching them how to fight Roman style. The boat they boarded at the jetty was tiny in comparison to the long dragon ship which had brought them from Britannia. There were six oars and then just enough room for Trygg and Marcus. Frann was left at the jetty. Marcus knew that his improved language skills meant that she did not need to come and he also suspected that, as it was the first time he had left the island refuge, they were ensuring he could not flee, at least not with Frann.

  As Trygg steered the small boat west Marcus was able to examine the fjord in more detail. It was a perfect place to defend for their two islands effectively blocked a swift entrance and exit. A rope could easily be used to block all three channels as they were not wide although he assumed there must be a deep channel for the ships to use. He now understood why the defences were so small; they did not need to withstand a siege or a frontal attack, if a huge force came they could easily retreat to the citadel and harass any attacking ships from the islands. He would have to leave across the mainland and he peered west to view the land. The harbour they were heading for was at the end of a smaller fjord and he could see, just above the jetty a walled citadel with much more prominent defences. It reminded him of the stronghold in Manavia but this one was much closer to the harbour. He would not see many hills and the land was flatter than Britannia. What he did notice, however, was the number of trees. It was as heavily forested as north of the Stanegate. That in itself was useful.

  Trygg had noticed how the Roman was using his eyes and taking everything in. He would have to be careful with this horseman of Rome for he had shown much intelligence in the time he had been there. Already Trygg had learned much from his captive but the chief of the Tencteri was no fool, the warrior staring at the land would escape if he could. Trygg had hoped to tie him to him through loyalty and he had not given up on that but he felt certain that the Roman had already tied himself to the Brigante slave and that would act as an anchor; he would not be able to leave quickly. The trip to the mainland was not only to look at the horses which his slave, Drugi, had acquired it was also a test for Snorri and twenty warriors had been sent over the previous day in case the Roman tried to escape.

  “This is Orsen, our citadel. It is new, Roman and I would be grateful if you would look at its defences to see how they may be improved.” The chief pointed to the south. “The Suebi attack us constantly. This is why we built our stronghold so that we could have a toehold on the mainland. When we have seen the horses we will walk the walls.”

  “I will help you for you do not fight Romans but when I return to my people you should be aware Chief Trygg that I will know of your weaknesses.”

  Trygg laughed. He liked this young Roman and his honesty. “I think we are safe then Roman for, unless you are like the hawk and can fly, you will end your days on Hjarno.”

  As Trygg tacked the boat towards the jetty Marcus noticed an enormous man standing at the end of the jetty. He was not only tall he was broad but the most noticeable thing about him was the total lack of hair on his head and his bald pate seemed to gleam like a beacon in the morning light. “Who or what is that?”

  “That, my young Roman, is another special slave, that is Drugi who comes from further east than a man can travel in a month but he is the best man I know to both hunt and to care for animals. That is Drugi the Hunter. He comes from the land of the Wends.”

  Chapter 6

  Drugi had been captured, not by the Tencteri but by slavers from further east. He came from the land far to the east, at the end of the dark sea and close to the land of the ice; he came from the land of the Wends themselves a fierce nomadic people who lived by following the herds which crossed their land. He had been sold from one seller to the next until he was brought to the slave markets and bought by a captain who needed a nimble boy. Drugi proved not to be that boy for he was a boy of the land and he had proved a poor sailor. When the captain had pulled in to Hjarno-by he had been more than glad to trade the young slave of ten summers for a barrel of dried herring. Trygg had seen something in the boy which he liked. As the boy grew, his prodigious size became a real talking point in the village not only because he seemed to grow daily but also his skills as someone who could work with animals which soon marked him out. He was able to control even the wildest dog and control the most truculent pig. He could train hunting birds and he could trap any animal which walked. Even before they had built their port Trygg would take Drugi with his warriors to go hunting on the mainland. One of the reasons Trygg had built his fortress was to afford Drugi more opportunity to hunt for his warriors grew to crave the delicacies he hunted. The slave’s aversion to the sea, the kindness shown by Trygg and his relative freedom all meant that Drugi behaved very much as a freeman would and did not miss what he had only experienced for the first three or four years of his life.

  The huge bull of a man easily caught the rope thrown by one of the rowers and he held the boat steady with his enormous hands. As Trygg stepped ashore he bowed slightly to the Chief of the tribe but Marcus noticed that his eyes took in everything and appraised Marcus quickly and effectively. The huge slave intrigued Marcus who could not see any guards. Why did the man not escape? It worried him slightly for it suggested that escape, even on the mainland side, was impossible.

  “Drugi. You have the horses?”

  “Yes Chief Trygg. I apologise for the time it took but I had to hunt deep in the forest and one of the ones I collected was wilder than any beast I had seen before.” He glanced mischievously at Marcus. “Is this the one who would ride?”

  “Yes Drugi this is Marcus, the horseman of Rome.”

  Drugi scrutinised Marcus up and down and appeared to examine every uncia of him. Marcus felt exposed and embarrassed. “I could take my clothes off if you want to see if I have a tail!”

  Drugi laughed. “I have never seen a Roman before. You do not look different. How have your people conquered most of the world?”

  Marcus relaxed a little as he realised there had been no malice in the examination, merely curiosity. “I was born close to the coast on the island called Britannia. I was not born in Rome. Rome is not a people, it is an idea.”

  Trygg nodded. “That is interesting Roman, we will talk more, later. Now come, Drugi, I wish to go hunting with you once we have seen how this Roman rides.”

  Marcus could not help glancing up at the walls of the citadel as they passed. His curiosity was piqued. It would be a valuable exercise for his mind to see how to improve the defences, especially when he returned to Rocky Point to report to the Legate. Even as he thought it the decurion wondered just when that would be for it seemed a long way off but he was still an officer in the Auxilia of the Imperial Roman Army and until he ceased breathing, he would continue to behave as one.

  “I have built a fence to keep the horses contained. It is close to the walls.”

  “Have you built a shelter for them?”

  Drugi looked around in surprise at Marcus’ question. “A shelter? But they are wild animals. They are not cows or pigs.”

  Marcus smiled. “The pigs you keep were wild; you hunted them did you not? Now you have pigs that are domesticated and peaceful. If a horse is kept like a wild animal it will behave as a wild horse. If you wish to ride them then they must be trained and treated as any domestic beast.”

  Drugi looked again at the Roman. It had made sense. He had enjoyed capturing the horses for he had not done so before. It had taken him many days to track them and then lay the traps. Sadly two had died in his traps and he had had to change the way he hunted them. Drugi was not a cruel man and loved animals but he would hunt and kill them easily understanding that Mother Earth and Odin put them there for the benefit of man. He always invoked the spirits and the gods of the woods before he hunted and he was always
rewarded but it was good to learn something new. He would talk more with this Roman.

  Marcus heard the horses whinny as they approached and he felt his heart race as his blood coursed more quickly through his body. For the first time in weeks he was close to a horse again. The hunter had done well. There were three small ponies, a mare and a stallion. He could see that the stallion was wild as it paced around the sturdily built enclosure. Drugi had made it high enough so that it could not escape but it would take some controlling. Marcus glanced at the slave and noticed the questioning look on the man’s face. He did not think that Marcus would be able to ride him. Marcus had a secret, he had been taught about horses by the best, Sergeant Cato, and he would need every trick he had ever been taught to ride this one but he knew, in his heart, that he would be able to do so.

  He turned to the chief who was looking somewhat fearfully at the beast. “You will need saddles if your men are to ride them.”

  “Saddles?”

  “Yes, like seats for the back of the horses and you need reins, something to control them.” He looked around and found a length of rope. As his hand went to Drugi’s belt to get the knife which was stuck in it, the six bodyguards’ hands went to their weapons but Trygg held up his hand to restrain them. Marcus sliced a hunk off the rope and returned the blade to the smiling Drugi. The Roman was interesting, he had not known how close to death he had been. Marcus was, in fact, not in the land of the Tencteri, he was back on Cato’s stud farm. He was thinking the problem of managing a horse through and no-one else existed. He was Marcus Aurelius, the horse trainer of the Second Sallustian again.

  As he approached the corral he began to fashion the rope reins as he had been taught years ago. The movements were second nature and he was not even conscious of their performance. He did not notice the amusement on the faces of the men watching him as the stallion snorted and stamped angrily in the enclosure. The first thing he did, once his reins were fashioned was to climb on the top rail and sit there just two paces from the horse. The black beast looked at him, nostrils flaring and forefeet stamping. He began humming a song Gaelwyn had taught him as a child and as he did he slid over closer to the horse. He was close enough to touch the animal but he did not. He laid the rope reins, still held in his right hand, over the mane of the horse and it shook it off. Marcus repeated the action a number of times, patiently until it tired of its action and sniffed the rope which was closest to Marcus’ hand. He slid a little closer so that the horse could, if it so chose, bite him. Despite his confidence, Marcus was ready to roll backwards off the rail in an instant. He began to talk to the horse using the Brigante words taught to him by Gaelwyn. “You are a fine animal and a noble beast. You do me honour by allowing me so close.” He held out his hand to the black stallion. It moved its head back but Marcus left his hand where it was and the horse, eventually, sniffed it and seemed to accept it. “When I ride you I will not own you. We will be as one, part of the Great Spirit and we will be greater together than we are apart.” He slid off the rail to stand close to the horse. His left hand stroked the mane whilst his right hand remained on its muzzle. He put his mouth close to the horse’s nostrils and breathed into them. “I give you my breath so that you know who I am. I give you my words that we might become friends. I give you my heart as I take yours.”

  Drugi looked on in amazement. He had never seen anyone do what the Roman had done. “This one is special Chief Trygg. I was sure the horse would bite him the moment he could.”

  “I know faithful hunter. I saw the mark of the gods in his eyes.”

  They watched as Marcus slid the reins over the mouth of the horse and then he untied its halter from the rail. Drugi and Trygg held their breath at this moment in time, frozen still in the chill air of the Uiteland morning. Marcus’ breath and the stallions were steaming in the icy air but the horse’s hooves were not moving, for the first time since they had approached. Holding on to the reins in one hand and clutching a hank of mane in the other the Roman decurion slid effortlessly on to the back of the horse. The horse bucked but years of experience and superb balance enabled Marcus to stay on and he leaned forward to speak to the horse. “I am not a heavy burden and when you have eaten of the treats I will prepare for you then you will become the mightiest horse in the land. Now we will ride.” As he kicked his heels in to the flanks of the horse he said, “Walk!”

  To the astonishment of all who watched the horse began to walk around the corral; even more amazing was that the ponies all followed and Marcus rode around the enclosure. Kicking again he shouted, “Trot!” The horse responded immediately and Marcus rode around the enclosure until he was satisfied. He returned to the halter and, sliding off, retied it to the rail. He nuzzled the horse and spoke into its ear, “You are now Cato and, while I live in your land, you will be my horse.”

  He climbed over the rail and walked back to the eight men who stood with open mouths, “He is a good horse and the others will be trained much more easily for he is the master and they will follow.”

  Drugi picked Marcus up in a bear hug. “You must teach me your skill for Drugi is the master of all animals but, Roman, you are the master of horse.”

  Trygg looked at the horse longingly. Marcus knew that, having seen the horse ridden he would be able to emulate the Roman. “Could I ride the beast?”

  “Not yet for he is not trained. It will not take long to train them but if you were going to ride him we would have to…” Marcus struggled for the word geld. It was where he needed Frann. In the end he had to mime cutting off his own testicles.

  Trygg looked horrified. “I would need those cut from me?”

  Marcus laughed, “No the horse.”

  Trygg looked relieved while Drugi hid the smile. “That would make him tame?”

  “Yes. Most of the horses we ride have it done to them.”

  Drugi walked over to stroke the mane of the horse. “It would be a shame Chief Trygg for we could breed fine horses from this magnificent beast.”

  “But I would not be able to ride him.”

  “In time you would but it would not be this year. I have been riding since I was small and it took me many years to progress to such animals.”

  Trygg seemed satisfied. “Good. You will stay here with Drugi and train these mounts, and the others which Drugi will capture.”

  Marcus could see from Drugi’s face that capturing the horses had been more difficult than the chief imagined. “I would stay here on the mainland?”

  “Yes Drugi has his own hut and you could share.”

  “And Frann…?”

  Trygg’s face darkened. “She is a slave. You can speak our words now of what use would she be?”

  “I still struggle with some words and besides she comforts me at night.”

  “Do not forget Roman that you are a slave as is Frann. She will continue to be one.”

  Marcus knew that he was taking a risk but he couldn’t allow Frann to go back to the slave hall and the attention of Lars. “It may be that if I do not have my comfort then I may not train the beasts as well as I should.”

  Drugi took a step back as Trygg moved threateningly towards Marcus. “Do not try to trade with me or threaten me. If you do not train the beasts to my satisfactions then you are no use to me and you will be punished.”

  “If I cannot have Frann then you have punished me already.” Marcus did not flinch from the stare of the chief. His men’s hands were already going to their weapons, anticipating the order to kill him.

  Suddenly the threatening silence was broken by the scream of a hawk above them in the sky. They all looked up. Marcus knew that it was Macro and he smiled. Drugi saw the look and wondered what it meant. Trygg’s face was calmer when he looked back at Marcus. “We came here to hunt. We will hunt and the matter of Frann is forgotten, you will not mention it again.”

  Marcus knew that it was not forgotten but he would bide his time. He did not think that Lars would do anything until he knew that the king had s
ent Marcus to the mainland. They set off in a line with Drugi at the front. He had a bow and a quiver whilst the others had spears. Marcus was, not surprisingly, the only one who was unarmed and he felt almost naked. Trygg gestured for one of his warriors to follow Marcus who had obviously become a threat once more.

  As they trotted through the forest Marcus began to run through his options. He could now escape. He knew that. He had a horse and it would have been simple enough to ride off as soon as Cato had obeyed him. He had stayed for Frann. If he could not save Frann then he could, at least, save himself. As quickly as the thought came into his head he dismissed it; he could not desert the girl who had helped him and, if he was honest with himself, she meant as much to him as his mother had meant to his father.

  Once they entered the woods Drugi took over and all of them, Trygg included, obeyed his every signal and gesture. Marcus watched him and saw in him, many of the habits and traits he had seen in Gaelwyn. He was a consummate hunter and, for such a big man, moved surprisingly quietly. He held up his hand and then seemed to sniff the air. Having ascertained where the wind was coming from he then went on all fours to examine the ground. Once he was satisfied he led them off but this time in a different direction. When Marcus reached the place Drugi had stopped he knelt down and saw the hoof prints and the spoor. It was deer. He was prevented from further examination by a spear being rapped into his back. He had to remember that he was just a slave, he was not on a hunting expedition with his brothers and great uncle. There were no shackles to be seen but he was bound to the warrior behind.