Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 12] Roman Wall

by Griff Hosker

  Before Rufius could speak Mavourna said, “We will put him in our boat and burn it. He will be close to his home and his spirit will inhabit this island.”

  The warrior and Rufius nodded. They carried the body to the boat. Mavourna placed his helmet upon his head and his oathsworn placed his sword in his hands. The last retainers of Ban son of Ban held the boat against the wind while Mavourna kissed him. Then Rufius and Marcus dropped lighted torches into the small boat and the breeze took it out to see. Perhaps it was the vagaries of the sea or perhaps the spirit of Ban himself but the boat seemed to turn when just a few paces from shore. The flames engulfed the boat and the sail and the whole vessel hissed to the bottom of the sea just paces from where he had lived.

  Rufius knew that he had to act swiftly. He went to the wounded warrior. “What is your name, warrior?”

  “Scealis.”

  “Well, Scealis, help your mistress to gather all that she needs. There are eight ponies we can use to carry the six of you and your belongings.”

  “We have two horses too and a wagon.”

  Rufius shook his head. “The wagon will slow us down. We carry what will fit on the back of the horses and the ponies.”

  Scealis nodded, “I will see to it.” He looked at Rufius. “What about the slaves?”

  “We cannot take them. They could stay here.”

  Scealis seemed happy. “They know no other life. I will tell them.” He paused, “You will get the box?”

  “I will get the box.”

  He seemed satisfied, “The master was concerned about the debt his father owed the Iceni. It is good that it is paid. He will meet his father in the Otherworld and hold his head high.”

  Rufius waved Marcus over, “Let us get this box for the prefect or else I will have got into trouble for nothing.”

  Marcus laughed, “I do not think it was for nothing. You have managed to annoy the brother of the King of the Votadini. That is no small achievement, my friend.”

  They headed for Ban’s room. It was something of an anticlimax to discover that the chest had merely been shoved under a bed. They pulled it out and saw that it did, indeed, bear the sign of Prasutagus. Marcus looked at Rufius, “Do we open it?”

  The decurion shook his head. “We will leave that for the Prefect. Give this to Gaius and tell him to defend it with his life. I would hate to lose it now having caused so much trouble.”

  It took more time than Rufius would have liked to gather together all of Mavourna’s possessions. The four warriors took just their weapons and clothes.

  Scealis waved the decurion over. “The tide is beginning to turn. Soon we can leave.”

  Scealis and Mavourna addressed the slaves. There were just six of them. Mavourna smiled at them. She had known the older ones all of her life. They had been treated kindly and she hated to be leaving them but she knew it was an unavoidable decision. Banquo had seen to that. She hated her cousin. Putting his evil from her mind she spoke, “We are leaving here but we cannot take you with us. We give you your freedom.”

  One of the older women dropped to her knees. “Thank you my lady but we would serve you still.”

  Mavourna raised her to her feet, “That cannot be. We are going…” she noticed Scealis give a firm shake of the head. It would not do to give Banquo too much information. “We go far from here.”

  Scealis said, “You can stay here but I fear that Banquo will return and pay you back for our resistance. Take what you will and head west to make a new life. There are many fertile valleys where you can live in peace.”

  Rufius addressed the troopers. “We do not know if the men we defeated are waiting for us. Let us assume they are. When we reach the mainland I want the whole turma in a defensive skirmish line until Decurion Aurelius has taken our guests to the oppidum.”

  Scealis nodded and they moved across the causeway. The water was still high but their horses moved through the swirling dark waters confidently. The troopers rode on either side of the young woman and the captured ponies with their precious cargo. When they reached solid ground Scealis turned and saluted the island with his good arm, “Lord Ban watches over us.” On the island the slaves waved their goodbyes as they prepared to leave their home when the causeway was finally revealed.

  The turma spread out while Rufius and Gaius led the others south along the dunes to the distant oppidum. Marcus waited with the turma, his sword drawn. They had neither seen nor smelled the Votadini who had fled but in the dark they could be lurking.

  One of the troopers shouted, “Over here sir.”

  When Marcus reached the man he saw a dead warrior lying in the dunes. He lay with a savage cut to his stomach but Marcus could see that he had had his throat cut to send him to the Allfather. “It seems we did better than we thought.” Convinced now that the others had fled Marcus led the turma down the beach towards the oppidum.

  Felix and Wolf greeted Rufius as he approached the old fort. “What is amiss Felix? Why are you not in the oppidum?”

  “We saw you leave the island and I came to see if you needed any aid.” He pointed back to the walls, lined with Marcus’ turma. “Chosen Man was worried.”

  “We are safe now.”

  Once inside the safety of the fort Rufius found that there was hot food prepared. While the horses were unsaddled and they waited for Marcus to arrive, the decurion ran through his plans in his mind. They needed rest. It would take them at least two days to reach the wall. He had to assume that Banquo would either go to his brother, in which case the pursuing Votadini would not catch them, or he would raise a warband and follow them immediately. Scealis had told him that there was another hill fort a half a day ride to the north. He decided to rest until an hour or so after dawn and then ride for Am Beal. He hoped that the presence of Mavourna and the others would persuade the headman that they were friends.

  Far to the north an angry Banquo whipped his pony as he raced towards Traprain Law. His warriors were too frightened to approach him and tell him that they were killing their ponies. He had had to send his closest friend to the Allfather and that had just capped a disastrous day. In his warped mind it was Mavourna who was to blame for all of this. She became a witch who had summoned the Romans to their aid. How else could the sudden appearance of the horse warriors be explained? He was even angrier, for when he had asked the warriors of the hill fort to follow him south they had refused. What had promised to be his first glorious adventure was proving to be a nightmare of colossal proportions. Even as he rode north he began to plan the death of his cousin.

  Chapter 11

  A flurry of snow heralded the arrival at Cilurnum of the return of Rufius and his men. Livius had taken to watching each afternoon. He had felt guilty about his men risking their lives for what he believed was a family matter. Despite the Legate’s words he had worried about the dangers they would face. When he saw the two turmae and the Votadini he was relieved and intrigued in equal measure.

  The two decurions saluted as they passed through the gate and entered the fort. Livius counted the barbarians with them and was relieved that there were only five. They would be able to accommodate them. He had taken in that they were not bound and would be friendly. The vicus which had sprung up across the river had huts but nowhere for them to live.

  “Chosen Man, give me the box.” He took the precious box from his second in command. “Have the horses seen to and find somewhere for Mavourna and the others to stay.” Rufius knew he had decisions to make about the future of his ward.

  Marcus handed his reins to his Chosen Man. “Well Rufius, let us face the fury of the Legate and the Prefect eh?”

  “I told you at Mercaut that I would bear the brunt of the punishment.”

  “It is not our way, brother. Come, this delay merely makes the punishment last longer.”

  Livius had sent for the Legate as soon as he had seen the approach of his men and they eagerly awaited them.

  “Sir, we retrieved the box as ordered.” Rufius place
d it on the table.

  “Did you open it?”

  “No sir, that was not our job.”

  “Sit down both of you. You might as well be in on the grand opening.” The Legate gestured to Livius. “It was your uncle’s task Livius. Do the honours.”

  The box had not been opened since it had been sent north. The sea air had swollen the wood and the lid refused to budge. Livius took out his pugeo and ran it along the edge. A patina of dirt marked the shiny edge of the blade. He put the pugeo under again and gently levered the lid up. It suddenly popped up and seemed to sigh as it opened.

  Unlike the small half empty box Livius’ uncle had sent to him this one was larger and packed to the top. The sight which greeted them was a torc and a small half crown. Both were made of gold. Both bore the mark of the boar. This was the regalia of Prasutagus. Livius reverently lifted them out and put them for the legate to examine. There was a necklace made of jet and precious jewels. Again there was a boar carved from jet hanging from the middle of the golden chain. He removed the necklace and the handful of rings which were there.

  “King Prasutagus must have been really worried to have sent this treasure north.”

  Marcus said, “Or he could have had second sight. That would have been what my mother said.”

  “You could be right.” Livius then began to remove the heavy bags from the bottom. He opened one and spilled the golden and silver coins on to the table.

  Julius picked one up and examined it. “This is the Emperor Claudius. These must be the monies that were loaned to the king.” He returned it to the pile. “We must now decide what to do with this but first, Decurion Atrebeus, give us your report.”

  “Sir, when we reached the island and the home of Ban son of Ban we saw that they were under attack. Even though we had orders not to fight it seemed to me that we ought to help.”

  “And me!”

  Livius smiled at the loyal support given by Marcus.

  “It was my decision that we aided the occupants of the fort. We drove away the attackers and spoke to Ban son of Ban just before he died. He told us where the treasure was and I promised to watch over his daughter. We brought them with us.”

  Julius Demetrius had a sharp mind. “A good report and I can find little fault with your actions. Yet it seems to me that there are some elements missing. Am I right?”

  “Yes sir although I had not finished my report. We discovered that the men we had driven off were Banquo, the brother of King Ardal of the Votadini and his oathsworn. It is the reason we had to bring Mavourna with us. She is his cousin. I fear that we may have turned the Votadini into enemies.”

  “Did you have any trouble coming south through their land?”

  “No sir. The headman at Am Beal seemed happy that we had rescued Mavourna. It seems that Ban son of Ban was highly thought of.”

  “You disobeyed orders, Decurion Atrebeus, and yet I cannot criticise you. It is what we would have done eh Livius?” Livius smiled and nodded. The two decurions before him were as near to sons as he would ever get. “And the decurion who first wielded the Sword of Cartimandua did much the same and was rewarded for his actions despite bringing the wrath of the Carvetii and the Brigante down on the frontier. I daresay King Ardal will now join with the Selgovae. Perhaps this will be a real test for the wall of our Emperor Hadrian.” He replaced the regalia into the box. “We will need to send this to the Iceni. At least we can build bridges there.”

  Livius looked at Rufius, “And how will you care for this daughter of Ban?”

  “I hadn’t really thought, sir. Ban made it a condition of letting us have the box.”

  Marcus laughed, “Sir, as Drugi might have said, the daughter of Ban was making cow’s eyes at Rufius.” Livius looked confused. “She has set her heart on him. Even old Ban could see that. Decurion Atrebeus might not know it but it was obvious to everyone else. She wants to be his wife.”

  Rufius looked as though he might argue but he had no arguments left. Julius smiled, “It looks to be the way with the decurion of this ala. They save a young girl and end up with a wife. Perhaps you and I should try this eh Livius?”

  “I think we are too old and set in our ways.”

  As they left Marcus grinned, “That wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

  “What was that about taking Mavourna as my wife? What makes you think that she wishes that?”

  “You may be older than I am and a better warrior but you are a novice in the ways of women. Speak with her and ask her.”

  “She might say no.”

  Marcus laughed, “And you are afraid of such a short word? No means that you just need to find a place for her and her men to live. It she says yes then you have her for life. Think on it.”

  The wedding took place a month before Saturnalia. Mavourna still called it Yule but it mattered not. It was a cause for celebration in the cold of winter. Rufius had a roundhouse built in the vicus close to the fort. Scealis and the others were housed in their own roundhouse nearby. It was a happy arrangement for they could hunt, fish and repair armour for all of them had such skills. The year ended well at the fort despite what had been a potential disaster. The Votadini had not run amok and the frontier had an eerie silent quality. The white wall was shrouded in the white of winter. It was yet to be stained with the red blood of war.

  Yule was also celebrated north of the wall. This time it had been organised by Caronwyn. Feanan, the king of the Novontae, had been persuaded to host a conclave of kings and would be kings. The Brigante, Novontae, Carvetii and Selgovae were all present as was King Ardal, the King of the Votadini. That had been the hardest negotiation that Caronwyn had had. The Selgovae and the Votadini had had a feud since the time of Lugubelenus and Radha. King Ardal agreed to a truce over Yule but he promised no more than that.

  The hill fort overlooked the sheltered bay. The Novontae regarded it as a holy place for even in winter the waters were warmer than anywhere else on the west coast. Even more remarkable was the difference between high and low tides; it made it seem as though the gods had marked it as a special site. For this reason the other kings, chiefs and princes were happy to be there. The Lady Flavia had sweetened the invitation by providing meats and delicacies from far away so that the Novontae would not have to use their own meagre resources.

  Each tribe and faction had their own hut specially erected for the meeting. The wall and Rome were seen as common enemies. Despite the differences between the tribes they could unite in their hatred of all things Roman.

  Caronwyn brought, not only her guards, but also her priests. There were many of them. Some were males but many were females. She had, hidden from public view and protected by her own bodyguards, Queen Radha of the Votadini. The high priestess of the Mother Cult had a master stroke to unite the tribes under her banner. She might not be a queen herself but she would lead these kings and direct their actions like a general.

  The last to arrive, as she had expected was King Ardal and his retinue. He had brought the greatest number of warriors. That, too, was to be expected. Until recently he had been isolated from the other kings and had to cross through the land of his enemy the Selgovae. King Feanan made him welcome but Caronwyn saw the wary side of the young king when he ringed his hut with his armed warriors.

  The other kings and princes sought Caronwyn’s views on this matter. King Tole of the Selgovae had been a lover of her mother although he had not aged well since then. He was, however, a powerful king who wielded influence and power. It was he who led the deputation

  “We thought we were coming here for peace and yet we see this upstart bringing heavily armed warriors and making his own fort here. This is not a good start to the alliance. If he cannot cooperate now then there will be no chance against the Romans.”

  Caronwyn smiled sweetly at the King of the Selgovae. “He is young and he knows none of us. Let me speak with him and see if I can change his mind. The conclave does not begin until the morrow. Give me until then.”
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  Tole was not convinced. “Perhaps the gods do not smile upon this venture.”

  Her thin lipped smile oozed venom as she hissed, “The Mother smiles upon it and tomorrow we will make a sacrifice which will guarantee success. That I promise you Tole, King of the Selgovae.” Her power was such that he stepped back and clutched at his amulet of the god Belatucadros. This was not a woman to be crossed. He still remembered her mother who had brought him to power. He would trust the priestess yet.

  The guards outside the roundhouse crossed their spears. “No-one enters without the king’s permission.”

  She glowered at the man. “You know who I am?”

  In truth the warrior did not and he looked into the cold green eyes. “I have my orders.”

  “And I take my orders from the Mother for I am Caronwyn the high priestess. Would you cross me?”

  The man had heard of her now and he looked at his companion for help. He glanced at her and saw that she had no weapons and just wore the cloak of a wolf. “You are not armed. I will admit you. Allow me to introduce you.” He entered the roundhouse and said loudly, “Caronwyn the High Priestess to speak with the king.”

  King Ardal looked at the woman who entered. She was the main reason he was here. He knew that the Mother cult was powerful and the powers of the Mother had kept the Romans from the island of Manavia. That, in itself, was no mean feat. Since his brother had told him of the incursion by the Roman horse warriors he had been worried. Although Banquo had made out that he had fought valiantly against them Ardal had questioned Banquo’s oathsworn and discovered that the Romans had despatched his men with ease. It had enticed him into this nest of vipers.

  She leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead, “Thank you for attending, King Ardal. We are pleased you have come.”