Masters of Rome: VESPASIAN V (Vespasian 5)

by Robert Fabbri

  Vespasian followed the King out, unnoticed under the cover of the smoke belching from the doorway and the flames now raging across the lane. He raced after Cogidubnus, past other blazing, circular huts, surrounded by men trying to combat the flames with buckets of water, and then away from the conflagration into a maze of dark, narrow lanes. The burns on his thigh and shoulder smarted as the muscles worked beneath them and the blood pumping through his veins caused the swelling on his head to throb. The sound of the fire-fighting grew and the narrow lanes became congested with warriors anxious to join the effort. Cogidubnus stepped off to the left, ducking into what was no more than a drainage alley between two lines of huts, and moved along it as fast as the slimy, noisome surface would allow. Emerging from the other end, scattering some panicking chickens, they saw the palisade just thirty paces away; a dark shadow against the bluing sky. With a mutual look of agreement they headed towards it, passing only a few women rounding up errant children and hustling them into the relative safety of their huts. Behind the last abode they spotted a ladder leading up to the walkway, just less than a man’s height from the top of the palisade. Within moments they had scaled it to look down in the direction whence the clamour came; and then another noise from a different direction attracted their attention.

  ‘Mars’ arse!’ Vespasian exclaimed. ‘It’s not just the fire that has got the Cornovii excited. How did they get here so quickly?’

  Fifty paces away, just visible in the weak dawn light, were the two and a half centuries of marines from the flotilla, approaching the open gateway. With an eight-man-wide frontage and protected by a roof and wall of shields, they stamped forward with blades flicking out between their shields, towards a mass of warriors forming up at the gates.

  Vespasian slammed his fist against the palisade. ‘The idiots! Who’s the fool leading them? If they get in they’ll be surrounded and hacked to death. We’ve got to stop this.’

  Cogidubnus unslung the rope and tied it to the top of the palisade. ‘It’s not long enough but there shouldn’t be more than a six- to eight-foot drop to the bottom of the ditch. Watch out for the stakes.’ He clambered up and over and let himself down; the noise was intensifying as the marines made contact. A mile or so beyond them, a solid shadow in the gloom, the rock of Tagell projected into the sea.

  Vespasian glanced over his shoulder – the fire was growing, fanned by a strong breeze coming off the sea – before following Cogidubnus down. The rope reached to just above where the wooden poles of the palisade were buried in the banked earth dug from the surrounding ditch. He let go and slid down the steep bank; Cogidubnus grabbed him as he hit the bottom, preventing him from toppling backwards. Without a word they made their way through the stakes and clambered up the other side and then down into the second of the two ditches that comprised the settlement’s earthworks. Keeping low as visibility grew with the light they scuttled along until they were within ten paces of the rear of the Roman formation. Slingshot ricocheted off the marines’ javelin-studded shields as they advanced steadily towards the gate.

  Grasping a sapling growing at the top of the bank, Vespasian hauled himself out of the ditch; Cogidubnus made to follow but the young tree’s roots were not strong enough and he fell back. Vespasian lay down and held out his arm; the King grabbed it as a javelin slammed into the bank next to him; slingshot followed.

  ‘Get away!’ Cogidubnus yelled, throwing himself to the far side of the ditch out of sight of the warriors on the palisade. ‘I’ll make my own way up.’

  Feeling a stone fizz past his head, Vespasian scrambled to his feet and sprinted to the rear of the marines’ formation and barged into the middle of the back rank.

  ‘Let me through! Let me through!’ he ordered, pushing his way into the second and then third ranks. The startled marines parted just enough for him to squeeze forward without compromising the roof of shields over their heads.

  ‘Stand by to fall back!’

  On he drove, up through the heart of the enclosed formation, repeating the warning, raising his voice against the drumming of slingshot and the growing resonance of combat as he neared the front.

  ‘On my mark, fall back!’ he yelled upon reaching the cornicen huddled just behind the forward ranks; the marine glanced at him and, recognising his commanding officer, set his lips to the mouthpiece.

  ‘Now!

  The three descending notes of the signal rumbled out and the formation took a step back.

  ‘Keep a steady, slow beat,’ Vespasian ordered.

  The cornicen blew a single note and they retreated another pace followed by another in time to the instrument’s call. Gradually they passed back through the gates, still under a sustained but ineffectual slingshot barrage and still in contact with the enemy on three sides in the forward ranks. But as the foremost rank passed onto the track leading away from the gates the precipitous drops to either side meant the only contact was to the front and the superior fighting technique of the legionaries of the sea began to tell. Fewer warriors were willing to throw themselves at the shield-wall bristling with blood-dripping blades, and by the time the marines had fallen back to the second ditch contact had been broken and Vespasian ordered an increase in pace to the jeers of the defenders.

  ‘Form line!’ Vespasian ordered as they cleared the second ditch and arrived back on open ground.

  Within moments the rear ranks had flooded forward, fanning out to either side to make a block four men deep and sixty across. The defenders pulled back to the gates and the slingshot ceased: stalemate.

  In the settlement the fire raged.

  Vespasian pushed his way through to the front rank and looked around, fuming. ‘Who ordered this madness?’

  An ordinary marine stepped forward and stood smartly to attention, his sword arm smeared with blood. ‘I did, sir.’

  Vespasian sighed. ‘I might have known it. On whose authority did you do it, Magnus?’

  ‘Well, the lads all agreed with me. When the boatmen came back and said that you’d all been captured we reckoned that we wouldn’t be able to get ashore in the same place. However, I heard Cogidubnus mention that the captive had said this was the closest safe place to land within seven miles and seeing as we hadn’t passed a landing place I assumed that there must be one seven miles ahead. So we sailed along the coast not worrying about being seen since they already knew we were here and found the inlet that the captive must have mentioned to Cogidubnus. Then we rowed ashore in two trips and doubled the seven miles back in quick time and managed to get here under cover of darkness ready to storm the gates when they opened at dawn. The rest of Cogidubnus’ men have gone on down to secure the haven for when the ships get back, just in case we have to leave here sharpish.’

  ‘As I expect we will, now that you’ve managed to piss the Cornovii off by setting fire to their settlement and then trying to kill them.’

  ‘We didn’t set the fire, sir; that was just a piece of luck.’

  ‘Luck? Then it’s a weird coincidence.’

  ‘It is. Anyway it helped to cover your escape. What do you suggest we do now?’

  ‘Talk to them,’ Cogidubnus said, walking forward with the uprooted sapling, ‘seeing as that’s what we originally came for.’ He strode past Vespasian and on up the track holding the branch of truce and shouting, ‘Judoc!’

  There was a stirring amongst the Cornovii and a squat, powerfully built man with a magnificent drooping, ginger moustache and a mane of hair to match pushed his way to the front; he called out in his own language and ostentatiously laid down his sword before walking to meet Cogidubnus between the first and second ditches. Behind Judoc, his followers thinned out as many fell back to fight the fires; but a sizable force of warriors remained to defend the gates.

  As the two men started to talk, Vespasian turned to Magnus and said, ‘I suppose you think that barging in through their front door heavily outnumbered was a good idea?’

  Magnus shrugged, looking pleased with himself. ‘W
e came to get you out and here you are, so it must have been.’

  ‘But now we’ve given away our actual strength and so are negotiating from a very weak position, whereas if you had sent some of Cogidubnus’ men in they might have been able to pass unnoticed through the fires.’

  ‘But they might not have and by that time it would have been broad daylight with no chance of a surprise assault; so the front door before dawn seemed to be the only option.’

  Vespasian found himself unable to argue and he slapped his friend on the back. ‘We’ll just have to make the best of it then.’

  ‘Legate!’ Cogidubnus called over his shoulder. ‘Judoc wishes to speak with you.’

  ‘Better go and see what he wants, sir, but I’d dress a little more formally if I was you,’ Magnus suggested helpfully.

  ‘Yes, all right! Tell centurions Glaubus and Balbus to keep their men alert and then resume your duties as a private citizen.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes; thank you, Magnus.’

  ‘Ah! I was wondering when you were going to get around to saying that.’

  Vespasian pulled the cloak tighter around his body and walked towards the two Britons, well aware that his appearance did not come up to what was expected of a legate of one of Rome’s legions.

  ‘Legate Titus Flavius Vespasianus,’ Cogidubnus said formally, still holding the sapling aloft, ‘this is Judoc, chieftain of the Cornovii, a sub-tribe of the Dumnonii.’

  Vespasian stood straight and looked the man directly in the eye. ‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance finally, having already enjoyed your hospitality.’

  ‘The pleasure is mine,’ Judoc replied, pulling his windswept hair from out of his hard eyes, ‘and it’s made more enjoyable by your expression, which tells me that you didn’t expect me to speak Latin and therefore understand the sarcasm in your greeting.’

  Vespasian caught himself before he blustered an apology and continued to hold Judoc’s cold gaze.

  ‘Your treatment was not of my doing, nor did I condone it, and, as yet, I am not willing to apologise for it unless you can disprove the assertion that you were here to kill me. I grant you the privilege to speak under a branch of truce out of respect for Cogidubnus, King of the Atrebates and Regni, even though I regard him as a traitor to our people.’

  Vespasian gathered his thoughts, knowing that he had very little time to make an impression upon the man who now held his fate and those of his men in his hand. ‘You have my thanks, Judoc, as well as my sympathy.’

  ‘Sympathy? Why?’

  ‘Because you are in an extremely dangerous situation.’

  The chieftain burst into laughter, cold and guttural. ‘I have heard of the arrogance of the Romans. You stand here, half naked, on the brink of death, and tell me that I’m in an extremely dangerous situation.’

  ‘I don’t mean at this moment but in the very near future. Yes, you could unleash your warriors and no doubt in an hour or so they’ll kill or capture all my men, but not before they kill twice their number or more and your settlement has burnt to the ground. And where will that leave you? As a hunted enemy of Rome, and believe me, Rome will not stop until the whole of the Cornovii are either dead or in chains working in your own tin mines, adding to Rome’s wealth.’ He paused whilst Judoc took in the threat. ‘We did not come here to kill you; that was a lie fed to you by a man whom I know as Alienus but you probably know as Verica, grandson of his namesake, the previous King of the Atrebates and Regni. He wants you to fight Rome and lose everything; he, Caratacus and the druids are willing to sacrifice the Cornovii and the whole of the Dumnonii solely to delay the inevitable. Your subjugation will take a year or perhaps two but in the end you will be crushed and you, Judoc, will be dead.

  ‘But it doesn’t have to be that way; Rome is offering you the chance to keep your freedom in return for two things: an annual tribute of tin and the removal of the druids on Tagell. The raid on our ships will be forgotten because you were pushed into it by the poisonous counsels of your vile priests who serve nobody but themselves. There will be no tax-farmers down here but you will be able to trade in the Roman sphere and your men will be free to join the Britannic auxiliary cohorts and earn citizenship. You are being offered the best of both worlds, Judoc; you can enjoy the fruits of the Roman Empire without feeling the weight of our swords. That’s what Cogidubnus is here to offer you; and I am here to kill the druids if you refuse to do that yourself. We are not here to murder you but, rather, to ask for your friendship. What do you say?’

  Judoc was silent for a short while and then turned to Cogidubnus. ‘I heard that before you submitted to Rome you first fought against her, so that it would be said amongst the tribes that the terms of your surrender were written in Roman blood. Is that true?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have been accepted by the Atrebates as Verica’s heir had I not shown that I was willing to resist the invaders.’

  ‘And if I submit without showing any defiance then how long do you think I’ll remain chieftain of the Cornovii?’

  ‘Your honour has already been satisfied; your men destroyed three of Rome’s biremes. No tribe can claim to have sunk even one of her ships.’

  ‘Three, eh? So it’s true what the only man who returned from the raid claimed before I had him executed for leading you here; and now Rome asks for my friendship because she fears me?’

  Vespasian tried to look as solemn as he could, given his attire. ‘Rome does fear a man who can reap such destruction on her fleet and Rome respects such a man. We could in time crush you but we know that it would be a long struggle, so we would prefer, instead, to beg for your friendship; we would honour the man who has fought so bravely against us, with his freedom and independence as well as the title of friend and ally of Rome.’

  Judoc visibly swelled. ‘Rome begs for my friendship? Then let it be so, legate.’ He turned and addressed his warriors in what were, Vespasian recognised, boastful tones.

  ‘He’s claiming victory over Rome,’ Cogidubnus muttered.

  ‘Let him claim anything he likes so long as it’s not our lives.’

  ‘He’s now telling his people that they have a choice: either to carry on their valiant struggle for which the warriors on the boat raid gave their lives; or to accept Rome’s plea for a cessation of hostilities in return for the guarantee of independence.’

  Vespasian suppressed a grin. ‘It’s the same everywhere: what leader is ever truthful with his people?’

  ‘With power, truth becomes a luxury and, like all luxuries, it should be used sparingly.’

  Vespasian sighed and his mind turned to the imperial politics of Rome. ‘That’s something that I have learnt only too well.’

  A cheer erupted and Judoc punched his arms into the air, acknowledging his warriors.

  ‘I think the Cornovii have graciously consented not to threaten the Roman Empire any more,’ Cogidubnus observed.

  Vespasian felt a surge of relief but kept his face neutral. ‘Thank the gods that men can always be relied upon to find a face-saving way to look after their best interests.’

  Judoc turned, beaming broadly, and opened his arms to Vespasian, who felt that he had no option but to subject himself to the chieftain’s embrace. ‘My friend, the Cornovii will no longer make war on Rome. However, there is one condition: I cannot be responsible for the deaths of the druids on Tagell but I would welcome their disappearance as they interfere with my people.’

  And lessen your power, Vespasian thought. ‘So you won’t hinder us?’

  ‘I would never hinder a friend.’ Judoc signalled over his shoulder. ‘And to prove what a good friend I am I shall give you a gift when the druids are dead.’ From within the crowd two warriors stepped forward with Alienus, bound and gagged, but walking with pride. ‘This I hope will make up for the execution, on his recommendation, of the men that you brought with you. Their heads will no longer be sent to Arvirargus; instead my message will be that I’ve accepted Rome’s friend
ship and will explain the terms and suggest that he does likewise. He’s a pragmatic man and dearly loves his horses; I’m sure that he would hate to lose them.’

  ‘I’m sure he would.’ Vespasian looked at Alienus; defiance burnt in the young spy’s eyes, but he did not struggle. ‘Thank you for this gift, Judoc, I shall be back to claim it. My brother has got just the right place to keep him; he’s going to be very well looked after for the next few years. Who knows, he may even survive into his thirties.’ He indicated over his shoulder to the rocky mound of Tagell. ‘Which is far longer than that filth over there can expect.’

  ‘I must warn you, legate, that the druids on Tagell have their own protection, and it can freeze the soul. But more than that, Myrddin arrived with them a few days ago and Myrddin is like no other man. He has great foresight and I believe that he’s here because he’s expecting you.’ Judoc pointed in the direction of Tagell. ‘Look.’

  Vespasian turned and saw a sight that chilled him to the core: standing tall amongst the few scattered huts on the rock of Tagell, lit by the soft red rays of the newly risen sun, stood a giant, five or six times the height of a man, with a stag’s head and towering horns.

  ‘That’s been built for you.’

  Vespasian stared in awe at the wicker man.

  CHAPTER X

  ‘THEY MAKE THEM a lot bigger here than they do in Germania,’ Magnus grumbled, looking at the huge figure on the Tagell peninsula just across the isthmus of bare rock connecting it to the mainland. ‘I doubt that the lads are going to want to go anywhere near it.’

  ‘Getting them there is going to be the first problem,’ Vespasian observed, looking at the sheer cliff-face at the end of the isthmus. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any path. We’ll just have to scramble down and across.’

  ‘I can’t see anyone over there; where are they all?’

  Cogidubnus shaded his eyes from the strengthening sun. ‘They’ll have seen us coming and, if Judoc is right and they’re expecting us, then no doubt they’ll appear at some point with a few unpleasant surprises.’