Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall

by Griff Hosker

  In answer the centurion shouted, “Double the guards!”

  Chapter 6

  Decurion Princeps Metellus was not worried when four days had passed since Rufius had left. After all the Quartermaster and Gaius were not back yet, but the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling and that was a sure sign that all was not well with the world. He heard hooves as a horseman clattered up Via Trajanus. The fort had a clear view for half a mile and he saw that it was not Rufius. He walked to the gate. “A rider approaching. Better warn the Prefect. It may be a messenger from Eboracum.”

  The sentries acknowledged the command and stood in the middle of the gateway. During the hours of daylight the southern gate was always left open, guarded but open. The rider halted and shouted, “Messenger for Prefect Sallustius, from the Governor.”

  As he was waved through Metellus wondered at that. The Governor normally communicated directly with the Legate Demetrius. He was intrigued. Nanna, his wife, would have said he was being plain nosey. He wandered down to be on hand when the missive was handed over. Julius Demetrius had joined the Prefect, no doubt also intrigued by the message’s origin.

  “Sir, the Governor said it is a personal matter for you. There is a box too.” He unstrapped a box which had been hidden by the rider’s cloak. Metellus hid a smile. He could see that the matter must have preyed on the rider’s mind all the way from the far south of the Province.

  “Thank you Trooper. Stable your horse. It is too late to venture forth tonight.”

  There was palpable relief on the rider’s face. Since Eboracum he had feared for his life. This was the wild frontier. He was used to the fortress with vaguely civilised people. Here the barbarians still went around half naked! “Thank you, sir.”

  Metellus and Julius looked over the Prefect’s shoulder, both were equally interested. Livius gave them a wry look. “Come along then. We will go to my rooms and examine this mystery.”

  Julius demurred, “No, no, Prefect. It is a private matter, after all.”

  Livius laughed. “No Legate, I insist.”

  Once in his room the slave poured three goblets of wine and disappeared. Livius unrolled the papyrus. That in itself was unusual. Papyrus was expensive and messages were normally entrusted to wax; a more fragile but a cheaper medium.

  Hail Prefect Sallustius,

  The box which accompanies this letter was found secreted in the Governor’s palace in Camulodunum which I am having refurbished. It was with some items belonging to your uncle. I knew him, albeit briefly and, for my part, he was my friend. Out of respect for a former Governor I have not opened the box but I must tell you that there was a fragment of papyrus found with it which suggested that it was of some importance.

  If I can be of any assistance do not hesitate to contact me.

  Trebonius Germanus

  By Order of Emperor Hadrian

  Governor of Britannia

  “Interesting.”

  Livius nodded, “I can see that he would have to be circumspect given the manner of my uncle’s death. This is even more intriguing now.” Livius’ uncle had been executed for treason. It was an unfounded accusation but one could see how the new Governor would wish to distance himself from any hint of disloyalty.

  The air of anticipation filled the room. Metellus nervously licked his lips whilst Livius drank his wine to give him thinking time.

  Livius lifted the small chest on to the table. It was remarkably light, “Not filled with gold then?”

  Julius looked at the workmanship of the box. “This is a well made box and whatever is within it, your uncle would have deemed valuable. Be careful when you open it.”

  There was a knock on the door and Metellus looked up irritably. He glowered at the trooper when he opened it. “This had better be important trooper.”

  “It is sir, Decurion Atrebeus and the Brigante scout are approaching the gate, sir.”

  Livius looked up and waved a hand. “You had better go, Decurion Princeps. We will not be long.” Metellus left and Livius slowly opened the lid. Disappointingly there appeared to be just a letter but, when Livius lifted it out he saw a ring with the image of a boar upon it.

  While he read the letter aloud Julius examined the ring.

  “To those who follow me,

  If you are reading this letter then something has gone awry with my plans and those of my dear friend King Prasutagus.”

  Julius looked up, “Prasutagus, he was the husband of Boudicca. I didn’t know he knew your uncle.”

  Livius shrugged, “They were both members of royal families so it is, perhaps, not really surprising that they were friends.”

  He continued to read, “He has entrusted this ring to my care. It is to be used by whoever finds this box. I hope it is someone from my family for this is a matter of family honour but it may well be some official of Rome. In either case it is a most delicate matter.

  The king sent his royal regalia and the money he was given by Rome to his cousin, Ban in the land of the Votadini. The enclosed ring will identify the bearer as coming from King Prasutagus. He hoped that it would help his daughters for he had a premonition of evil. Sadly I had never the opportunity to honour my promise. The king fell ill and he died leaving his wife to revolt against Rome. In that time it was impossible for me to travel north for those were dangerous times. Once the family were dead there appeared to be little urgency and I put it off.

  My honour demands that I fulfil my promise. I hope to make the journey soon, especially as I am now Governor of Britannia. However affairs of state may prevent my doing so.

  I owe it to my friend to return the regalia and the money to the Iceni for they have been badly used by corrupt officials.

  Lucullus Sallustius

  Governor of Britannia by the will of Emperor Domitian.”

  Julius took the letter and examined the seal. “It looks authentic enough to me. This is where we could do with old Julius. He has an eye for this sort of thing.”

  “It leaves me in a dilemma though. The Votadini are hostile and they are north of the wall.”

  “But it is a matter of honour, Livius. I know that you feel a sense of duty towards your uncle. This will require some thought.”

  There was a sharp rap on the door and Julius put the letter and the ring back in the box. “We had better keep this between ourselves, Livius.” He closed the lid. “Come!”

  Metellus and Rufius entered. Rufius looked the worse for wear. His face was now blackened from his fall and he had ridden nonstop from Morbium.

  “Sit down, Decurion. You look ready to drop.”

  “I am tired, Legate, but I bring dire news.” He briefly told them what had occurred, minimising his own misfortunes and travails and concentrating on the key factors.

  “You have done well, Decurion Atrebeus. It is all that we expected. Well, Prefect, can you put this putative rebellion down with ten turmae? It is all that we can spare.”

  “Then we will have to do so. Decurion Princeps, have the ala ready to ride first thing in the morning. We will leave four turmae here.”

  Rufius tried to rise. Julius put his hand on his shoulder. “Where do you think you are going?”

  “I need to prepare for the morrow sir.”

  “No, Decurion. You will be staying here and resting; for a day or two at least. You have done more than enough.”

  After they had gone Livius picked up the box. “This will have to wait.”

  “Perhaps not old friend. We both know the power of the name of the Sword of Cartimandua. The royal regalia of the Iceni will be equally powerful.”

  “I am not sure about that. Since the revolt they have been a subjugated tribe.”

  “We have a new governor. If he has any sense he will make moves to bring the Iceni into the fold as allies rather than a subjugated people. The return of the regalia costs us nothing and yet it might make that part of Britannia safe.”

  “You are the politician, Julius and not me.”

  He s
hrugged. “We will talk more when you return. Make sure that you take the ala along the valley of the Dunum. There may be other parts which are rebellious but we know that there is a faction there now.”

  “You do not expect them to be at their camp do you, Legate?”

  “If they are then they are fools for they have kept this hidden from us so far. Let us assume they know what they are doing. Your patrol in strength is to let them know that we know. Meanwhile I will arrange for the VIth Victrix to winter at Luguvalium. We may need them in the spring. I will write to the Governor and to the commander at Eboracum. They were due there in the spring anyway.” He stared hard at Livius. “Show them that we are in control. Your ala has a reputation in that part of the world. Let us use it.”

  When the ala left the next morning poor Rufius felt as though he was letting down his comrades. His turma was left with the other turmae to patrol the wall and that would be a hard enough task. Rufius, however, did not like leaving a job half done. He and Felix stood on the gate tower and watched as the column of men headed south. They would reach the site of the camp by late afternoon. If the rebels were still there then they were in for rude surprise.

  “I never thanked you for saving my life, Felix.”

  The youth grinned, “It was Wolf who found you and he swam to save you. Besides I could not let one of Marcus’ Horse die. You are the oathsworn of the Sword.”

  Rufius heard the tinge of sadness in the youth’s voice. “You would like to be with the sword wouldn’t you?”

  “It will return and I will be happy.”

  Marcus and his turma were sent ahead of the main column to scout out the camp spotted by Rufius. He split them in two and approached from the north and the east. He was taking no chances. It was obvious that there had been a camp there but equally obvious that it had been moved for at least a day and probably more.

  Titus picked up a piece of burned firewood and threw it. “It looks like we are too late sir. This is stone cold.”

  “I think they left as soon as they were seen by Decurion Atrebeus. He was lucky to escape with his life. We will take no chances. Put a skirmish line out while we wait for the Prefect. “

  While Titus organised the men Marcus dismounted and led his horse as he examined the ground. Although not as good a tracker as either Felix or Rufius, Marcus had been an Explorate and trained by both Gaelwyn and Rufius. He saw the unmistakeable tracks of a pair, at least, of caligae. There had been a Roman in the camp. That did not bode well. He would mention it to Livius as soon as he arrived. It confirmed Rufius’ report. The tracks showed that the caligae were kept in good repair. These were the shoes of a soldier and not a deserter.

  The small ship had left the mainland for Manavia the previous day. As Briac and Severus stepped ashore they were greeted by Caronwyn who had been watching their approach. There was no hint of a frown as they abased themselves before her and Briac stuttered, “We were discovered and Severus thought it best if I returned here.”

  She lightly laughed, “You worry too much Prince Briac. Severus is right.” She waved at the skies. “Soon it will be autumn and the men will be needed for the harvests. The Mother watches over us still. The Romans are suspicious but they will find nothing.”

  Briac looked in surprise. “How can you know that?”

  “Your problem is that you do not believe deeply enough. I am a daughter of the Mother Earth and I see things hidden from mere men. You are our tools to mould events into the shape we wish. All will turn out well. Come and we will see Severus’ mistress.”

  Severus was not certain he liked being called a slave however prettily it was dressed but he had to admit, as they trudged towards the large round house, that the two women had both more sense and more ability than any officer he had known before.

  Caronwyn seemed to notice the mail for the first time. “The weapons and the armour were well received?”

  “They were. My men now have the heart to believe we can meet the Romans equally. But why did the Lady Flavia invest so much of her money in the weapons? She can never recover their value even when we win.” He had been about to say if rather than when but he was learning how to speak to this most powerful of Druids.

  “Like me, revenge burns fiercely in her heart but, fear not, the Lady Flavia will be rich when we reconquer our land. The Roman settlers have many treasures and they like to bury their gold beneath their homes. When they are sacrificed to the Mother and we have ripped their stone abominations from the ground then we will reap the harvest of Roman gold. We have learned that this love of gold can be put to good use.”

  The Lady Flavia beamed when she saw Briac. He felt a surge through his body. She was a beautiful woman and he realised that he desired her. That was impossible he knew. She was far above him. He knew he was a rough and ready warrior and she was a powerful woman but he could dream.

  As he sat between the two women and drank the strange brew concocted by Caronwyn and her acolytes, Briac found himself both relaxing and feeling more powerful and potent. Their words, and perhaps the drink, were transforming him. Caronwyn, in particular, seemed to be able to mesmerize with her words.

  “You must put yourself in our hands, Briac, Prince of the Brigante. Let us plan and think for you. You and your men just need to fight.”

  Part of Briac’s brain still remained his own. “But we still need more men.”

  “And you shall have them. Even now I have my Druids casting through the tribes and sowing the seeds of rebellion and revolt. The tribes in the south will not fight but they do not like the taxes they pay to a government far away. There will be many instances of minor disobedience. The Roman grip is looser in the land they think they have conquered. That is in no small part due to you for your control over your men has lulled the Romans into a stupor. When the Romans are hunkered in their forts and their homes over winter then another enemy will attack them from within their own homes. We have those who prepare their food and watch over them. They are loyal to our cause and willing to die for it. There will be knives in the night and death at the table. All of this has been planned and foretold.”

  The Lady Flavia stroked his head. Her perfume and gentle touch intoxicated Briac almost as much as the powerful drink he was imbibing. “And I have placed servants and slaves in the homes of the Roman families who rule the land around the wall.” Her voice became briefly hoarse with emotion. “I learned how such devices can be very effective.”

  “So you see Briac, you need to prepare this winter for a Brigante Spring. Put yourself in our hands completely.”

  Briac was suddenly aware that Caronwyn was now naked and she and Lady Flavia were undressing him. Lady Flavia leant down and kissed him lightly on the lips. “And tonight we join the tribes and the priests under one roof. Tomorrow begins the dynasty which will rule this land.”

  Briac finally succumbed to the brew and to the innate power of the two women. That night he too became a follower of the Cult of the Mother.

  Chapter 7

  Rufius was summoned by the Legate two days after the ala had departed. “How are you healing, Decurion Atrebeus?”

  “I am well recovered, Legate. I led my patrol this morning and there are no ill effects.”

  “Good. Good.” Rufius wondered at the Legate’s demeanour. He had known Julius Demetrius since he had led the ala. The Legate had no need to be delicate in his approach. The Legate seemed to read his mind for he smiled, “I know, Rufius that we go back a long way but I need to ask you something which requires an honest answer.”

  “I believe I have always spoken the truth to you sir.”

  “Ah but you may give me the answer you think I wish to have rather than the answer in your heart.”

  Rufius laughed, “I think your time in Rome made you forget that the men of Marcus’ Horse were trained to give the honest answer to every question.”

  Julius seemed relieved. “That is what I wanted to hear. The Prefect received a letter from his past just before you re
turned.” Rufius nodded. Metellus had been intrigued by the box and the message and mentioned it to Rufius. “There is something in the land of the Votadini which could be used by Rome’s enemies. You are an Atrebate and you know the power of torcs and symbols.” He lowered his voice, even though there was no-one to hear, “The regalia of the Iceni lie in the land of the Votadini.”

  “And you would like me to get them back for you?”

  Julius laughed, “I sometimes forget how quick the minds of the officers of this ala are. No, for that matter will need greater planning and must wait until the Prefect returns. What I would ask you and Felix to do would be to find out if there is a family of a warrior or prince called Ban in the land of the Votadini.”

  “That is all?”

  “It is a delicate matter and needs an Explorate to carry it out. We have no idea where this man lived. It is over sixty years since he received the box and I cannot believe that he will still be alive. He was an important noble. Someone may remember the family. But before I risk upsetting the Votadini with a military invasion I would know if the box still exists before I risk troopers.”

  “Perhaps the Votadini use the regalia themselves. They might harness its power.”

  “If that was true then I believe that we would have heard rumours. The fact that neither the Prefect nor I had heard of this means that the treasure is still hidden.”

  “It may be that it is lost.”

  “Then you will discover that and we will be able to forget the matter but if it exists then we require it to be south of the wall. The last thing we need is for a magnet to draw rebels north of the wall.”

  Rufius was an Atrebate and understood the significance of the regalia but he was also an intelligent officer. “Perhaps, sir, if it is still hidden we should leave it that way.”

  “Had the Brigante not shown that they had a revolt planned then I might have agreed but this rebellion has the hand of the spawn of Morwenna guiding it.”