Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 09] Hero of Rome

by Griff Hosker

“Just make your preparations if they are not aboard by the time you are ready they can take another of the boats.”

  The captain shook his head at the cynicism of the prince. He could see that the warriors had given all for him and he was callously abandoning them. However Morwenna was paying him and she had made it quite clear that this prince was important to her, he would have to obey this heartless leader. The captain knew that many warriors would die needlessly as his ship, the largest, had been tied to the jetty where embarkation was easy. Most of the others were lying in the river on the opposite side waiting to come in and pick up the warriors. The men would have to wade out to them. He was glad that it was not his decision. He shouted down to his crew, “Cast off forrard, cast off aft. Raise the anchor and hoist the sail.” Although he had tied up to the jetty the currents were notoriously dangerous and the anchor was an element of safety he now regretted.

  The first line of troopers had smashed into the thin picket line of warriors, their speed down the trail had taken them by surprise. Idwal and Angus raced to organise the others for, despite what Faolan had said, they needed to embark in an orderly fashion or they would lose many more men than they needed. Loegaire had released the horses, his men smashing their swords against the beast’s rumps to make them stampede. The frightened herd had galloped towards safety, running through the lines of the ala and disrupting their cohesion.

  “Shield wall!”

  A hundred warriors, the closest to the charging horsemen locked shields with Angus, Idwal and Loegaire at the rear. Angus glanced over his shoulder where warriors were still wading out to the boats and running along the jetty. Already Faolan’s ship was moving slowly away from the jetty and those warriors close enough leapt to grab the sides. At first they were successful but the further it drifted the fewer actually made it and many fell into the sea which claimed their lives mercilessly. Idwal turned to two of his men. “Go to the Eagle and let no one but us aboard.” The Eagle was the other ship tied to the jetty. The Manavian turned to Angus. “I’ll be damned if I will be abandoned by that coward.” Loegaire’s eyes flared with anger but he held his counsel. They needed each other but there would come a time for such a reckoning.

  The first of Cassius’ troopers to hit the enemy hurled their javelins at the shield wall. Both sides knew that they would hit few men but the javelins would weigh the shields down and make them ungainly and difficult to control. At the same time Rufius’ men were firing their arrows at those men on the beach and the jetty, the missiles striking unprotected backs and limbs. Angus turned to Idwal. “We need to fall back. Make them turn their arrows to us.” When Idwal shot him a questioning look the wily warrior said, “We have shields and protection.”

  Macro had the blood lust upon him and he had dismounted to attack the shield wall with his two blades. No-one could stand in his way but Marcus could see that warriors were running to kill this hero of Roman; by killing him they would gain much honour. Marcus could not allow his brother to die alone and, hurling his spear to kill the warrior about to hit Macro’s unprotected back he leapt from his horse roaring ,”The Sword of Cartimandua.” The oathsworn heard it and they dismounted echoing his shout.

  Across the water Faolan heard the shout. The witch had been correct; the sword had come to him and he said to the captain. “Stop the ship!”

  “How? This isn’t a horse I…”

  Faolan’s sword was at his throat in an instant. “Stop this fucking ship or you die!”

  “Lower the sail!”

  The crew looked confused until Faolan shouted, “Do it or your captain dies!” As they rushed to obey Faolan went to the rail and yelled, “Loegaire, the sword! I want it!”

  Idwal looked astonished, “Is he mad?”

  “He is, above all, my Prince, and we obey. Ebdani, wedge!”

  The Ebdani warriors quickly left the shield wall to form behind Loegaire. The disruption of the wall allowed many of Antoninus’ men to get amongst them and soon the line became a series of individual battles and melees while Loegaire and his wedge pushed their way towards the Roman formation led by Macro and Marcus. Loegaire hit the left side of the Roman wedge and the trooper behind Marcus took a blow to the shield which broke his upper arm. His shout of pain alerted Macro who yelled, “Turn!”

  The well trained troopers wheeled as one and Loegaire found himself facing Macro. He saw a tall trooper who was as broad as any warrior he had ever seen. His chestnut hair framed an angry face but the most intimidating feature was his eyes for they were a green he had not seen since… since Morwenna! His eyes widened as he realised that this was Morwenna’s son and as their blades clashed he knew that this would be the day he would die for the man before him had his mother’s power and that would be his doom. Even though Loegaire knew he would die he was blood sworn to obey Faolan and the Prince wanted the sword which was but a man away. He hacked and chopped in a vain attempt to get through the auxiliary’s defence.

  Macro knew that he had a chief and that this chief was a skilful warrior. He coldly analysed the man and saw his weakness, the man used the shield as defence, and Macro would show him how to use it as offensive weapon. Just as he was about to punch the shield into Loegaire’s face the warrior to Loegaire’s left saw the bare flesh of Macro’s leg and he thrust his sword towards it. Suddenly the Sword of Cartimandua flashed down to shatter the blade and then upwards to gut the man. Within moments the two brothers were side by side.

  “You want this sword? Then take it!” The sight of the blade and the momentary loss of concentration cost the bodyguard his life as Macro punched him in the face with the boss of his shield and then, in one practised motion chopped off the head which rolled to the edge of the jetty, the lifeless eyes of the faithful retainer staring up at Faolan who saw the sword slip from his grasp once more.

  As he saw the rest of Loegaire’s men fall to the swords of the Romans, he turned to the captain and said dully, “You may hoist your sail now. There is nothing left for me here.”

  The captain bit back the reply which might have cost him his life and quickly ordered his men to hoist sail before they were wrecked on the shore. Idwal and Angus had taken advantage of the focus on the battle for the sword and withdrawn their men the Eagle which was trying to pull away with the last few warriors alive on the jetty attempting a leap for life.

  “Rufius! Kill those barbarians on those ships, let the others drown.”

  Rufius switched his volleys from the men in the water to the men on the Eagle and soon the survivors were forced to shelter beneath shields as the deadly arrows swept the decks. Eventually the only ones remaining were the dead and the wounded. Macro watched, in satisfaction, as those who were in the water finally succumbed to the body filled estuary and drowned.

  “Gather up the prisoners. Capsarii, see to the wounded. Well Rufius, we failed again and our foe has escaped.”

  Rufius swept a hand around the body littered beach. “More of the barbarians lie in Britannia than will make it back to their haven in Manavia.”

  “Yes Rufius and the men have done well but there are Brigante women now who are slaves and in that I failed.” He turned to Macro and Marcus. “You two did well but I hope that the defence of that sword will not become a regular feature of our battles.”

  Marcus smiled sheepishly, “No sir. It’s just that when it is in your hand it takes over and seems to control you.”

  “Then perhaps you might consider leaving it somewhere safe?” The look of horror on the face of those who had sworn an oath to it almost made Cassius smile but instead he shook his head and said, “Get your oath sworn to make crosses. We are going to make a statement here.”

  By the time that the wounded had been attended, the dead placed on byres, the forty crosses were ready. The timber had been found in a large hut, as Rufius had surmised, “Obviously intended for Manavia. I wonder what they would have built?” It had seemed appropriate to punish the villagers who had to have been complicit in the evacuation and the
loss of revenue would hurt them.

  Every barbarian who had not died was crucified, their hands and ankles broken by hammers and their sides pierced by blades. The troopers ignored the pleas for a warrior’s death as they remembered the pitiful cries of the captive children and their dead comrades. Those younger troopers who had never witnessed a crucifixion were horrified by the sight. Sextus looked at the faces and said,” It is a slow and inevitable death. Some will take four or five days to die. Look and remember.”

  One of them had a quizzical expression, “Why has the Decurion Princeps done this? Why not just kill them as we did before?”

  “He is letting the village know that this is the punishment for rebellion and it will be a sign to those from Manavia that this is their reward. They will see the crosses and the corpses and they will remember.”

  The troopers of the oathsworn were gathered around Macro and Marcus who were helping the capsarii tend to their wounded comrades. One of the younger troopers went up to Macro to look at his two swords. “Are you never afraid sir? You seem to have a charmed life and you don’t even have the Sword.”

  Macro smiled, “I do not need the Sword. There has never been a warrior who can defeat me.” The words were spoken with neither bravado nor arrogance. “I will never be killed by a warrior, I know that and it makes fighting simpler.”

  Marcus snorted, “Not for a brother who is not privy to this remarkable knowledge.”

  Macro laughed, “Perhaps that is why a warrior will never kill me for I know that my brother and the famous Sword are there to protect me.” He glanced at the oathsworn who were taking in every word. “And of course, the oathsworn.”

  They all shouted, “The Sword!” making Rufius glance over in irritation.

  “What now sir?” Antoninus had grown up in this campaign and seemed to ooze confidence. Cassius smiled at the enthusiasm.

  “Why Antoninus? What would you have us do now? Cross to Hibernia and fight the island or go north and defeat the Pictii?”

  “Sorry sir I just…”

  “No son. I am just teasing. Don’t lose the enthusiasm. You have done well.”

  “Ships coming in!”

  Antoninus looked around in shock. ”Are they coming back?” It was only half a day since the barbarians had departed.

  Rufius peered out to sea and then laughed, “Well bugger me! That is The Swan and two biremes of the Classis Britannica. What in Hades are they doing here?”

  “I don’t know Rufius but perhaps Antoninus’ desire for action has prompted the Allfather and the Parcae to provide it!”

  Chapter 14

  The decurions all gathered around the jetty as the small flotilla edged its way in. The two biremes of the classic Britannica dropped anchor half a mile off the shore but Hercules nudged and tacked his way to the jetty. “Julius Demetrius! Sir!”

  As Hercules’ men were hurling lines for the decurions to catch the Legate leaned over the rail. “I can see that we were too late. Sorry.”

  “How on earth…?” Cassius shook his head, this was not a conversation to be shouted, “I’ll wait until you are ashore.”

  Rufius tied the bow rope off and grinned up at Hercules. “I thought I had seen the last of you, you old pirate.”

  Before the captain could answer Furax jumped the two paces from the side of the ship to the jetty. “Rufius!”

  “Furax! You are a long way from Rome. Are you a sailor yet?”

  The erstwhile street urchin and thief grinned cheekily at Hercules. “Getting there but I have to wait until he is asleep to steer the ship.”

  “Little bugger!” Hercules wandered off muttering but Rufius could see the twinkle in his eye.

  “You have grown. The last time I saw you, you were half the size.”

  “Hercules says it is down to a life at sea and the better food we eat.”

  “I take it you had an interesting voyage?”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “We sailed all the way around the coast.” He dropped his voice and leaned in to speak conspiratorially, “I thought we were going to sail off the edge of the world and so did Hercules but the senator, well he was confident and kept saying, ‘Agricola did it and so can we.’ The cliffs were higher than at Surrentum and the waves so big that I thought we would be swallowed whole.” He looked seriously at Rufius, “The thing is Rufius; we didn’t see a single person from leaving Coriosopitum to landing here. No-one, not a single ship of any description. It is as though no-one lives up there.” He shuddered, “I didn’t like it. I prefer people!”

  “Come on, let’s go and find Macro and Marcus. I am sure they will be delighted to see you.”

  Cassius nodded as the two went off. “He has grown and seems a much happier youth.”

  “He and Hercules are good for each other. The old man dotes on him and he will be master of The Swan eventually.” Julius scanned the detritus of the battlefield. ”It looks as though you had a hard time.”

  “One of the hardest we have endured and I am sorry, Legate, for I have let you down.”

  “Let me down? How/”

  “The Irish have fled to Manavia with Brigante captives. We were only able to save some; at least Metellus was responsible for saving some.”

  “Your humility does you justice Cassius but you were given an impossible task; the Governor knows it as do I. That is why I am here. The assignment is not over. We are going to Manavia, we are going to recapture the captives and let this Red Queen know that raids can go two ways. She feels inviolate in her little rocky empire. She is in for a hard lesson, no-one steals from Rome and gets away with it.”

  Cassius glanced out at the ships in the bay. “Is that why you have brought the ships? They have more troops aboard?”

  “No Cassius, the frontier is not secure enough yet, it is up to you and your men I am afraid. There is no rest for you. Come on board, I have some wine and we can discuss my plan, and Cassius, I am not sending you to do what I will not, I am coming with you.”

  Macro’s face lit up for the first time in months when he saw the irascible Furax. “What in Hades’ name is Hercules feeding you? Sea monsters?”

  “No just fish and hard tack,” his face became serious, “but we did see sea monsters when we rounded the northern coast.”

  The decurions all became attentive. “Really?” asked Rufius, “genuine sea monsters?”

  “Yes they were huge beasts, bigger than a horse. They had two enormous teeth as long as a legionary sword, huge whiskers but no arms and they lay on the rocks and roared at us.”

  Rufius looked sceptical. “Have you been at the spirits?”

  “No he is speaking the truth,” one of the sailors who had been tying up the ship came over. “He isn’t exaggerating either. I was sure that they were the guardians of the edge of the world, like Cerberus at Hades, you know, but the Senator he was calm as you like. ‘We will not sail off the edge of the world’ he says ‘but they are fine monsters, perhaps we will come one day and hunt them captain’.“ He shuddered, “He can hunt them without me. They looked like they could bite a man in two and chew him up.’

  “I apologise for doubting you young Furax. You have, indeed, had quite an adventure.”

  Furax had a happy, confident look. “I wasn’t sure, after meeting Sergeant Macro if I wanted to be a horseman or a sailor but I am sorry Sergeant, I have chosen the sea. It is much more interesting.”

  “No need to apologise Furax and now it is Decurion Macro, but I quite envy you and I will come with the Legate when he hunts this beastie.”

  “The Legate?” Furax looked confused.

  Rufius ruffled his hair, “The Senator but he has been promoted by the Emperor and is now our general, our Legate.”

  Just then Cassius came on deck. “Decurions if you could drag yourself away from the young mariner the Legate and I would like to discuss our next moves.”

  As they went aboard Macro shouted over his shoulder, “And I want to hear more about these monsters and your sea adv
entures.”

  Hercules had arranged sacks around the quarter deck for them to sit upon whilst Cassius stood, like a schoolmaster lecturing his students. “We have a new task, gentlemen. Some of you are going to become marines.” If he had grown another body part he could not have surprised them more. Even Rufius’ jaw dropped. Cassius smiled. “We are going to Manavia and we are going to rescue the Brigante captives.”

  He glanced over at his brother. He had felt the surge of excitement through his body and when he looked at his eyes he saw that they were actually gleaming in anticipation. He hoped that this was not another of the Parcae tricks.

  Cassius continued once the initial murmurings had ceased. “Now not all of you will be going. One of you will have to remain behind with the wounded, the horses and to await the arrival of Metellus and his charges. The rest of you and your men will sail in the three ships here, to be landed as close to the slave pens as we can and when the guards are asleep, slip ashore and rescue them.”

  There was a silence and a smile played around the lips of the Legate and Cassius as they wondered who would have the courage to ask the inevitable questions. They knew it would not be Macro for he would go into a fire without regard for himself. He did not need to ask questions; he just had to be given a task. Sensible, cautious Rufius was the one who stepped forwards. “Firstly sir, how do we know where the slave pens are and secondly aren’t there at least a thousand barbarians who would love to get us on their turf and spend six months killing us?”

  “Good questions. To answer your first question Hercules and those on The Swan will find out where the slave pens are by sailing into the port and asking. Secondly we are not going there to start a war, we are too few.” Macro’s snort of disappointment made everyone turn and look at him. “For we are too few. But we will make sure that we let them know we have landed and retaken their prize. Any further questions?” There was an embarrassed silence. “Oh surely there is one hanging on your lips?” Again silence. “Surely you want to know who is staying behind?”