"Men of the Decantae," he cried turning to the shield wall, "you will stand your ground. You will win this fight. You will do so under the gaze of the ancients. They will be watching you. Do not disappoint them."
The warriors in the wall shouted their battle cries and raised their weapons in the air. Then they turned to grimly await the enemy. The Vacomagi were surging down the hill side. Their foremost men splashed through the river and slowed to a walk as they got to a hundred paces from the shield wall. Then they halted and began to form their own line. In dress and weapons there was no difference between the two feuding tribes. But war band and friends would fight together and know each other by face and name. There would be no confusion about who was on whose side during the battle. Baldurix peered at the enemy ranks as they formed up but he couldn't see the druid anywhere. He unbuckled his heavy two handed war hammer and slid down the roof of the cairn and onto the ground in front of his shield wall. The weapon was heavy but it could kill a man with a single blow. His men cheered as they caught sight of their leader. Baldurix raised his hammer in the air to show all his men where he had chosen to take his position.
The Vacomagi wall looked ready and for a few moments the thousand or so men on each side stared at their enemy in grim silence. Baldurix lowered his hammer and turned to face his enemy. Most of the Vacomagi were not wearing armour but here and there he noticed a man with leather body armour or a bronze breast plate strapped across his torso. The enemy shield wall was lined with long oval shields made of hide covered wood with metal ridges and spines and engraved with a multitude of different designs and patterns. Then he noticed a figure pushing his way towards the front. The white robed druid stepped out beyond his men and raised his oak staff without saying a word. The warriors around Baldurix tensed. Then the druid's staff came swooping down and a great shrieking yell rose from the Vacomagi ranks as their warriors leapt forwards and came running towards him in a mad chaotic charge. The enemy warriors came on like the tide rushing across the beach. The men were screaming their battle cries. A volley of spears and javelins tore into the charging men impaling and tumbling men to the ground but the momentum of the charge was not lost and a moment later it smashed into Baldurix's shield wall and kept on going. In an instant the cohesion of the shield wall was broken by the force of the charge and the battle descended into chaos. Baldurix roared and swung his two handed hammer into a man's head. He caught him clean on the neck and the blow sent the warrior flying back into the ranks of his charging comrades. Baldurix turned and swung his hammer in a wide circle around himself catching a man on the back of his knee and sending him somersaulting into the air. A head flew over the battle field and landed on top of the domed roof of the burial chamber. Around Baldurix men were hacking and stabbing at each other, screaming, yelling and pushing. A warrior swung his long sword at Baldurix missing him by inches. Baldurix nearly tripped over a corpse. He roared his battle cry and swung his heavy hammer in an arc before him hitting someone full on in his chest. The man collapsed without making a sound.
Wildly he glanced over his shoulder. He had no idea how the battle was going. Was he winning, was he losing? The fight seemed to have descended into a gigantic brawl. A man came at him with an axe but Baldurix thrust his hammer head into the man's face sending him crashing backwards against the wall of the cairn. One of his men finished the enemy off by stabbing him in the chest. Where was the druid? A madness seemed to have taken hold of him. He was going to kill that old maniac just like he had killed his son all those years ago.
"Dougal, where are you!" he roared. "I am coming for you."
Baldurix swung his hammer with great force and skill but by now his enemy had become wary of him and the weapon and as he stepped forwards they gave him a wide berth.
"Fight me," he screamed, "fight me you cowards."
But no one did.
Then behind him he heard a shout that made his blood grow cold.
"The Decantae are fleeing, they are fleeing. After them!"
A great roar rose up all around him and Baldurix suddenly knew that he was surrounded. Warily he took a step back so that his back was protected by the cairn. "To me, to me," he roared.
A few of his men stumbled towards him. Baldurix twisted his neck to look around the cairn and gasped. A great horde of men was running away back the way he'd come that morning. They were his men. The cowards were running away. They had left him here to die. In frustration he took a step forwards and swung his hammer at the enemy who were now pressing closer from all sides. The Vacomagi were laughing now and jeering. They had him trapped against the cairn. Baldurix roared his battle cry and caught a man on his shoulder and sent him spinning into his own ranks.
"Come on then," he screamed, "Who of you thinks he is going to kill me!"
But no one took up the challenge. Around him the small band of brave men who had tried to protect their leader dwindled as one after the other was cut down and killed. Baldurix lunged time and time again but he could not turn the tide. The battle was lost. As the last of his companions collapsed to the ground he flung himself onto the cairn and with desperate strength clambered up the earthen mound. On top of the dome he crouched, panting for breath. The Vacomagi surrounded him on all sides. They were insulting him now. Baldurix stood up and raised his hammer in the air.
"I am Baldurix of the Decantae and you shall not take me alive!" he yelled in defiance.
Then something hard hit him in the back of his head and he toppled over and tumbled from the cairn and onto the ground.
When he came too he was lying on his back. Baldurix tried to move but his feet and hands had been bound tightly together. His head ached and the hair on the back of his head was soaked with blood. He stared up at the sky and blinked. Then his vision was filled by a face. An old man with a grey beard and pale blue eyes was staring down at him. There was no emotion at all on the druid's face. Then quick as lightning a bony hand grabbed his throat, with surprising strength for such an old man and started to squeeze it. Baldurix coughed and spluttered and his eyes bulged in their sockets. He stared at the druids pale blue eyes unable to look away.
"You killed my son," a voice whispered, "you killed your sister. Did you not realise? I am going to tell you the truth of what happened. The truth, which in your heart you have known about from the start. Your sister was not raped. She wanted to be my son's woman. I was going to marry them. They loved each other but your father forbade the match. But they decided to go ahead with it anyway. Then you killed my boy and in her grief your sister killed herself. So you see, it was you who murdered your sister, not us."
The druids pale blue eyes seemed to be on fire. Baldurix felt the air slowly being driven from his lungs. He spluttered and gasped.
"Admit it," the voice whispered, "In your heart you have known all along that this is the truth. You know they wanted to be together."
"Give me a warriors death and bury me next to my ancestors," Baldurix gasped as the bony fingers squeezed and squeezed. "Then I will admit," he wheezed, "that that is the truth of the matter."
The pale blue eyes stared down at him for a long moment.
"No, your head will be placed on a spear for all to see and when it is rotten and disfigured I shall throw it into the sea," the voice whispered cruelly, "Then your soul will be doomed to wander for all eternity. You will never find a final resting place nor shall you see your forefathers again. So this feud will come to an end and my son's murder be avenged."
"No," Baldurix gasped in terror.
Chapter Forty Six - The dream
Vellocatus strode up and down the shoreline staring at his ship that lay anchored a hundred paces away. He looked impatient and tense. It was noon. Baldurix and his warriors had marched away that morning and Vellocatus had been left with nothing to do but wait. He wasn't very good at waiting. The galley captain had told him that the wind was likely to remain unfavourable if they were to sail east. They would have to rely on the oars and their progress was
likely to be slow. He picked up a stone and flung it into the sea. And there was something else that was making him nervous. What if this Corbulo, this Roman adventurer who was pretending to look for his son, found the amber cave before he could make it back to Bannatia? Baldurix's search parties had found no trace of the man. He had vanished. The shock of seeing that man still alive had unnerved him. Who was he working for? Had Agricola set up his own expedition to find the amber? That would fit he thought bitterly. He had seen enough about the Romans to know their avarice was boundless.
He picked up another stone and flung it into the waves. But Baldurix had given him strict instructions to leave at dawn tomorrow and only arrive at the amber cave at dawn in two days time. Vellocatus glanced furtively across at the four men lounging about on the rocks. They were Baldurix's men and they had started to follow him everywhere. Even when he'd gone to have a shit he'd noticed one of them lurking nearby. They were not letting him out of their sights, not for a single moment. The presence of the men unsettled him. It felt like he was a prisoner. It felt as if his every move and thought was being studied. Did Baldurix no longer trust him? The tall Caledonian warrior may share his sexual vices but outwardly he appeared to be a man who kept his word. Vellocatus could recognise untrustworthiness in people but he had seen none of it in Baldurix. He grunted to himself. It was more likely that Baldurix was taking precautions to protect his investment. Vellocatus looked away and smiled grimly. Well two could play that game.
His own mercenaries, all ten of them, sat a little distance away, two of them were gambling with dice and the rest lay stretched out in the sun, dozing or looking bored. Vellocatus stopped walking. He had spent everything he had on this venture. The mercenaries, the ship, the captain and his crew. The expense had cleaned him out. He was not going back south without the amber. He would do anything to get his hands on the coloured stones. His life depended on them. He raised his hand and beckoned for one of his mercenaries to come over. The man rose to his feet lazily and Vellocatus pressed his lips together in silent irritation. Bestia was good at handling the insolence of these mercenaries but there had been no sign of Bestia since the auxiliary soldier had run away. Bestia was probably half way to Rome by now Vellocatus thought darkly. The man could have collected his pension and become a Roman citizen if he'd only remained in the army for a few more years. Now he had deserted. He'd become a fugitive, with no pension, no amber and with nowhere to go. Damn that man and his lies. He'd asked the soldier to do a simple straightforward job and he had failed twice and what was worse he had lied to him twice. A man who lied to him was useless. A man who lied to him was showing disrespect. But Bestia's disappearance didn't change anything. He would never see Bestia again and if he did he would kill him. The auxiliary would forever be a piece of worm beneath his boot.
The mercenary came up to him and raised his chin in an inquiring gesture.
"Get the men ready, the plan has changed, we are going to go now," Vellocatus growled. Then abruptly he turned and strode away. As he splashed through the surf towards the small log boat that would take him across to the galley he noticed Baldurix's men rise to their feet. They came towards him.
"Where are you going? Baldurix told you to leave at dawn tomorrow," one of them said.
"Well Baldurix is not here and I am going now," Vellocatus retorted.
The four men exchanged glances. They were armed.
"My captain says the wind is not favourable," Vellocatus muttered, "I just want to make sure that we arrive on time as planned."
"Then we are coming with you," another replied.
"Is that really necessary," Vellocatus said wearily, "Baldurix and I are friends. Do you not trust me?"
"Not in the slightest," another man murmured fixing him with a challenging eye.
***
The rowers heaved and strained as their oars plunged into the sea propelling the galley along the coast. Vellocatus stood at his usual place in the prow. He looked annoyed. Behind him Baldurix's warriors crowded the deck. There were more of them than on the first leg of their journey and they outnumbered his own mercenaries by two to one. He had protested of course but short of starting a fight there was not much he could do about it apart from gnash his teeth in frustration. The men had said that they were acting on Baldurix's instructions. They had refused to listen to him and one of them had even insulted him. No matter he thought. He had managed to speak to his mercenaries. Once they reached the amber cave he would take half of Baldurix's men with him to help collect the amber and whilst they were ashore his mercenaries would pounce on the remainder of the warriors, kill them and dump their bodies overboard. Then when he and the others returned with the sacks of amber his mercenaries would ambush Baldurix's men as they came onboard. With his rivals dead and deposed of he would be free to sail away with the amber.
"The rowers are exhausted," a voice said suddenly, "It's getting late. We should make for the shore and put up for the night."
Vellocatus recognised the captain's voice. He looked up at the sky. For once the captain was right. It would be dark in a hour or so.
"You were right about the wind," Vellocatus said making a huge effort to be polite, "take her into the shore and find us a spot where we can spend the night, unobserved if possible."
The captain nodded and walked away. Vellocatus closed his eyes. He had to be polite to the captain and the rowers. When the time came to murder Baldurix's men he needed the crew to remain neutral.
***
Vellocatus woke with a start. It was still dark. Around him the ships company were asleep. Someone was snoring and he could hear the gentle lap of the waves on the shore. The dream had been so vivid that he'd thought it had been real. He had lying on his back in a grassy field. He had been hot, the heat had been all around him, drenching him in sweat but he could not escape. He had looked around for the heat source but there had been nothing, just a blank world. In his dream he had gotten hotter and hotter. Then he'd woken. He stared up at the star filled sky. His forehead was drenched in sweat. Dreams like this did not just happen. This was a sign. The gods were talking to him. What had they been trying to tell him? He rubbed his eyes. Then it came to him. The heat! He had heard that it was always hot in Alexandria. He smiled. The gods were telling him that he would succeed.
He raised himself up on his elbows and looked around the camp. Bodies lay asleep everywhere. As they had anchored off the cove the previous evening he had toyed with the idea of murdering Baldurix's men in their sleep. The plan however had been thwarted by the insistence of Baldurix's men that they sleep onboard the galley whilst the crew and his own mercenaries slept ashore. They had refused to accept anything else and he had been forced to go along with it. Vellocatus turned to glance out to sea and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he caught the outline of the galley riding the gentle waves. No doubt a sentry would be keeping a close eye on him from the ship. It was nearly, he thought with a frown, as if Baldurix's men were expecting him to attack them at some point. But how could they know what he was planning? The tension onboard the ship had been very high when he and the rest had waded ashore.
He lay back down again. There was not much he could do about that now. His thoughts returned to the strange dream. The heat, the heat, he smiled. He had been born into a noble family, his mother Queen Cartimandua of the Brigantes had been wealthy and powerful. He may be her bastard son, driven from his land and position after his mother's downfall but wealth and power were still his birthright. Agricola and Baldurix had inherited their wealth and status, this Corbulo was just a common opportunist but he, Vellocatus, he really deserved the amber, he deserved to live like his mother had once lived. Yes he was entitled to be rich. The amber belonged to him. He had a right to be richer than that the common man.
Chapter Forty Seven - Amber
Vellocatus counted the leather sacks one more time. Then he nodded satisfied. It was still dark outside. He stood in the captain's tiny cabin onboard the galley holding a
n oil lamp as one of the mercenaries knelt and tied a rope around the leather bags.
"How long before dawn?" Vellocatus murmured to the captain who stood behind him.
"Another hour or so," the captain replied.
Vellocatus handed him the lamp and stepped outside onto the deck. A cool fresh breeze was skipping across the waves. The galley pitched and rolled in the gentle swell. The rowers lay hunched over their oars. They looked exhausted. It had taken them a whole day and most of the evening before Vellocatus had at last sighted the unmistakable headland jutting out into the sea. That had been last night. The ship had spent the night at sea and with each hour of darkness the tension onboard had grown. He glanced at Baldurix's warriors. They sat in a group clustered around the prow having taking over the whole front half of the ship. Vellocatus turned and spat into the sea. They had taken over his favourite spot. One of his mercenaries brushed past him. The man's hand was gripping his sword pommel.
"Is everything ready?" Vellocatus muttered softly.
The man nodded and disappeared into the gloom.
Vellocatus touched his own sword and felt the reassuring cold steel. He turned to look at the dark headland that was just visible in the moon light. He wondered how Baldurix was faring. Baldurix had said that the Romans would start to besiege the Caledonian fort at dawn. As soon as he caught sight of the Romans he would launch the small boats that the Decantae had loaned him and set off for the cave. They would load the amber into leather sacks and transport them back to the galley. If the Caledonians had posted a watch on the cliffs above the cave they would surely spot him very quickly but with the Romans attacking them from the landward side there would be little they could do to intervene.
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