Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 06] Druid's Gold
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Druid’s Gold
By
Griff Hosker
Book 6 in the Sword of Cartimandua Series
Published in 2012 Copyright © Griff Hosker.
The author or authors assert their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author or authors of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Rich for his constant support and ideas. Thanks to Alison for the positive criticism. Thanks to Ste and Chris, it is always good when others see in your work the hidden bits they hoped you would see.
Part One
The Gold
Chapter 1
Decius Lucullus Sallustius, the nephew of the Governor of Britannia who was executed following a plot to overthrow the Emperor, cursed silently as he peered across the marshy estuary northwards. He looked over his shoulder at the string of heavily laden pack horses and his ten mercenary guards. He had a fortune in his grasp, the result of a profitable time stripping out gold from the Welsh mines, gold that had been mined for the Emperor but which Decius had stolen from under his dead uncle’s nose. Yet for all his deceit, guile and treachery he was no better off than he had been for the new governor had posted his description and soldiers were searching for him on every boat leaving the shores of Britannia. He was trapped and, whilst the Brigante revolt had faltered, Northern Britannia was a dangerous place to be. Centurion, his lieutenant had urged him to head south. “Head South? Head back through the patrols which have our description with this line of gold laden pack mules? And how long do you think we would last? How far would we get? At least we know there are fewer Romans north of us.”
“We could bury the gold and come back for it when things have quietened down.”
Decius had gestured scornfully at the unshaven thugs who followed some distance behind. “And of course the gold would be safe from our associates eh?” Although Centurion was a brutal man given to plain speaking even he had recognised the sarcasm in his leader’s tone. Centurion had been a centurion in the Second Adiutrix but when he had beaten to death a soldier who had fallen asleep on duty he had decided that desertion was a better option than facing the punishment and demotion.
Decius now scanned the far shore of the shallow estuary. They had been hitherto lucky. Since skirting Deva they had seen no signs of life and, more importantly, no signs of Rome and its soldiers. That of course meant no roads and no bridges, just the woods, rocks and fields of a largely uninhabited part of the province. They had headed east until Decius had found somewhere he thought they could cross the sluggish, murky waters of this un-named river. Had he planned his escape he would have secured some of the maps from his uncle’s former home at Eboracum but this flight was on the spur of the moment. He knew that once across this river the land was empty as far north as the land of the lakes and, more importantly, there were places on the west coast where he could buy or steal a boat for his escape back to Gaul and, ultimately, Rome.
Centurion nudged his mount next to Decius. “Will we be able to get across? It could have deep parts in it? The bottom might be muddy.”
“Yes and there may be a river monster just waiting to gobble us up. The answer is obvious, we will have to find out.” He turned in his saddle and shouted to the man they called Tiny. He was of course the biggest of the mercenaries but he had two qualities which Decius needed, he was loyal and he was obedient. “Tiny. Bring up a mule.” The huge man untied one of the mules from the string of ten he was leading and, giving the rest to the next man, trotted up to Decius. “I want you to take your mule across the water. Go steadily and wait for us on the other bank. Understand?”
“Yes.” The ex- auxiliary took his mule gently down the bank and Decius watched as they entered the water.
“Why him?”
“He can be trusted. Would you let one of the others take a fortune in gold across a river? Most of the others would disappear over the horizon and the other reason is he is the heaviest. If he can make it then any of us can. I only wish we had brought more rope we could have made the crossing much easier.” Decius held his breath as he saw the mule caught by the current; its feet were not touching the bottom. Tiny looked over his shoulder and tugged the struggling beast closer to his own mount. “So far he has not had to swim his horse.”
“Yes but he only has one mule, we have sixty to cross.”
Decius shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter how many journeys it takes with you on one side and me on the other we can make sure that none of our companions takes it into his head to become suddenly richer. Once we are on the far shore we will be safe from the Romans and I think we can handle any of the locals.”
Tiny was now three quarters of the way across the river and, although the mule was still struggling, the huge warrior had no problem controlling the powerful animal. Even Centurion allowed a smile to crack his scarred face as Tiny raised his arm in salute.
“Right. You take one across and then tether the two mules together. Send Tiny back and you make sure that all the animals are secured on the far side.” He looked meaningfully at Centurion.
“Can you deal with the rest? There are some devious bastards there. A few of them have been eyeing the gold and your back.”
“That’s why I want Tiny over here.” He gave a rueful smile; Centurion and Tiny were the only two who would not slit his throat in the night and he was touched by the ex-legionary’s affection. Had he not caught his subordinate asleep on duty he would have made a fine officer but the threatened punishment had made him desert for which Decius was eternally grateful. “Now go on. Don’t worry I will be safe.” He slid his spatha from its scabbard and let it hang loosely and hidden next to his leg.
Centurion nodded and led his mule into the water. He had watched Tiny carefully and identified the route he had to take. He still worried about Decius and, as he waded across the muddy water he kept glancing back over his shoulder. Decius had been good to him and the loyalty he had given the Second Adiutrix he now gave whole heartedly to the young man who had used his brains not for good but for selfish gain; he too was in the same boat and, as long as their fates were tied together he would be faithful unto death.
Turning to the remaining eight men Decius gestured for them to come closer. “We are going to cross this river. Tiny managed it and that big bastard is twice as heavy as any of you ladies so we should be safe.” One or two gave a half smile at the humour but the rest looked doubtfully at the forbidding water before them. “You go over in pairs with eight mules between you. The one at the rear makes sure they the line goes in a straight line. Clear.”
Scarface, so named for the scar which ran through one whitened dead eye down to his jaw rubbed his scar and spoke up.” Why risk crossing this river? It looks dangerous.”
Edging his horse towards the man Decius growled, “Because I want us to get across the river and unless you have suddenly become master here that is what we will do.”
“Look, sir,” the ‘sir’ was almost spat at Decius, “we have more than enough gold here for all of us. Let’s split it now and go our separate ways.”
Decius was aware of two things happening simultaneously; he saw the nods of
agreement and he heard the splash of hooves in the shallower waters behind him. His horse was now nose to nose with Scarface’s white blazed mount. “I’ll ask one more time Scarface. Are you the leader or am I?”
Decius saw the almost imperceptible nod Scarface gave to his brother off to Decius’ right as the would be killer started to draw his gladius from its scabbard. While most of his men, ex-soldiers, preferred the shorter stabbing gladius, Decius, like his brother Livius, had been taught to use the longer cavalry spatha, that training now saved the life of Decius Lucullus Sallustius. He brought the blade in a huge arc slicing down on the unprotected neck of the unfortunate Scarface. The razor sharp blade sliced through flesh to rip into the artery and end the usurper’s life. The blow threw the man man’s corpse from the saddle and freed the sword. Hearing the roar of rage from the dead man’s brother Decius slashed the blade backhand at the man he knew was approaching from his right. The blade caught him just below the helmet and it cut easily through the top of the surprised warrior’s skull. There was a sudden silence and Decius looked anxiously around wondering why none of the remaining six had attempted to kill him. He saw that they were not looking at him but behind him; turning he saw Tiny with a childlike grin on his face and a mighty war hammer in his hand. Nodding his silent thanks Decius turned to the others.”Now then ladies. Would anyone like to join the brothers with the brains of a flea?” They shook their heads. “Then split yourselves into pairs and get these beasts across the river.”
As they sullenly went to their task Decius gestured Tiny over. “Collect their weapons and search them. I suspect they have some of our gold about them. Tether their horses together ,”and Tiny,“ he leaned over to pat the big man on the back, “thanks.”
Tiny grinned happily at Decius. It was a disconcerting sight as the man had lost his front four teeth in a fight and the gaping maw looked terrifying.
Decius was pleased, as they pulled the last mule from the river that they had only lost one mule and its golden load. It had been a total accident, the rope holding it giving way and it had been swept towards the sea, its braying call mournfully mixing with the screech of the seagulls. The loss was annoying but would not hurt Decius as they had two less men to pay and they had discovered money hidden in their clothes and saddle bags, obviously the brothers had decided to go into business for themselves and rob the mules.
The exhausted mercenaries slumped on the ground looking furtively at each other. Decius nodded to Centurion and Tiny who stood behind the men on the ground. “Now it appears that Scarface and his thieving brother stole some gold from us.” He emphasised the word ‘us’. “Now I say us because we will all have a share of the money when we divide it. The reason none of us keeps the gold is because we might die and that would mean less for all of us to share.” He lowered his voice to add more weight and threat to it. “You have one chance to hand back any gold you may have borrowed and that chance is now. When Centurion and I search you tomorrow morning any gold you have about you will be your death warrant.”
Panic spread upon their faces. Scarface had been the leader. They had planned on murdering Decius and Centurion in their sleep; now that the leaders of the plot were gone they did not know what to do. They started in shock as Centurion roared out, “I will personally crucify any bastard who does not hand over his gold now.”
Decius hid the smile behind a hand as they raced for their saddle bags. The amount of gold was immaterial; he was making a point that he was leader and that any form of dissent would be severely dealt with. Even so he was surprised by how much they had stolen. The recovered gold was split between the dead men’s horses.
Later as they finished off their frugal meal Decius addressed them all again. “Now that we are all of the same mind I will tell you what we intend to do. We will head north west towards the land of the lakes. Once we find a place with boats big enough to take us and the gold we will either buy or steal such a boat and then head down to Gaul or Hispana. When we are there you will all receive your share of the treasure we have accumulated.” He was a very persuasive and articulate speaker. He made it sound like the gold they had was just the start.
One of them looked up as though about to speak and then thought better of it. Decius saw the gesture and said, “Come on man spit it out. Now is the time for conversation n not a knife in the back.”
The shock that his leader had known what he intended made the warrior speak out. “But what if we want to settle in Britannia? It is the land and people we all know.”
“Then you would be more stupid than even dead Scarface for they will be looking for ex-soldiers who are suddenly rich. But if that is what you wish then when in Gaul buy a boat and return.” The man looked satisfied and Decius scanned the other faces. “Any more questions? This is your one and only chance to ask them.”
Looking at one of his companions another mercenary ventured. “Aren’t there Brigante north of us and haven’t they just revolted? I fought them once and they are seriously nasty bastards. I would like to keep my wedding tackle intact.”
“Yes and yes but we will just have to be careful. I have travelled these lands before and they are empty. You will all take it in turns to scout far ahead so that we avoid any such encounters but remember we are all going to be rich men; isn’t that worth a little danger? For remember the alternative is to face a Roman force and believe me they would have your heads on their forts before you could draw swords.” He saw that their faces were downcast and he realised that he needed these men; the mules would not drive themselves and the six mercenaries might mean the difference between success and failure. Failure would not only men the loss of the gold but either crucifixion at the hands of the Romans or a much worse fate at the hands of barbarians. His voice softened, “I believe that the hardest part of this journey is behind us. Three or four days travel will bring us safely to the coast and I doubt not that we will find a boat once we reach there.
As the men settled down for the night Decius walked the mule line with Centurion. “Do you believe all that you just said?” Centurion waved a dismissive hand towards the already sleeping soldiers.
Weighing his words carefully, for Centurion and Tiny were his only allies in the inhospitable land which surrounded them, he nodded, “I believe it is our only hope.” He paused before he continued. “I do have a worry, well two if truth be told. My brother is serving with an ala of cavalry, Marcus’ Horse.” Centurion face showed his surprise. “So you have heard of them? They are a formidable force and they patrol the land of the lakes. Were they to stumble upon us then our venture would be at an end.”
“And the other thing?”
“There are rumours that the Brigante are now led by a powerful witch and she too is known to have her base in the land of the lakes. It would not do fall foul of a fell witch especially as this gold we bear was taken from the sacred mountain of Wyddfa and witches take a dim view of theft from their holy places.”
“Which leads me to ask, respectfully, why are we heading there, when it would seem to be the most dangerous place for us to be?”
“The alternative is to cross the spine of this rocky little island and then cross all the major Roman roads which run north to south chancing Roman patrols, informers , bandits and ,once we reached the east coast, we could have to avoid the fleet which protects the shipping which travels to and from this rich little island.” He spread his hands to make his point. “When I worked for my uncle I saw just how prosperous and efficient the Romans were. There are a couple of villages on this coast and we will try those. It may be that we do not come close to the Brigante or the ala.”
Centurion shook his head, “It seems to me it is a gamble but you have been right up to now so let us roll the dice. I will sleep first, wake me when you are sleepy.”
“Do you not think my words had the desired effect?”
“I think they will behave but I would not like to bet either your life, or mine on it, would you?”
*
> Half of Decius’ worries were needless if he did but know it. Even as they headed north the remnants of Marcus’ Horse were gathered for the last time at the legionary fortress of Eboracum. They were pitifully few in numbers; there were only three officers still remaining from the seventeen they had had when at full strength, Julius, Livius and Sergeant Cato. They could barely muster two turmae of troopers and many of those who still mustered showed the signs of the ravages of the battles over the past year. Julius had spent the morning with the Governor and Legate discussing the fate of this famous force. Julius had not had time to talk to either Livius or Cato and he knew that they would be surprised, not to say shocked with his words. The faces before him were only a tiny portion of the ones Julius remembered; the lucky ones had retired or left with minor injuries. The far greater numbers were those who had died in battle, amongst them his brother and the greatest warrior amongst the troopers Decurion Macro. He shook his head absent mindedly to clear away the sentiment.
“Men, today is a sad day. Today is a day I did not foresee coming, certainly not as long as I was prefect of this ala. Marcus’ Horse is now a fraction of the force it was and it has been decided to disband it as an ala.” With the exception of Sergeant Cato every man looked aghast, Livius in particular, he opened his mouth to ask a question and then thought better of it. He was too well trained an officer to be insubordinate and interrupt his commanding officer. “Some of you are due a pension either now or soon and any man who has served eighteen years will be granted his pension and a plot of land on the border. For those younger men,” he glanced at Livius, “there is the chance to transfer either to the Gallic Horse based at Coriosopitum or the cavalry unit attached to the Ninth.” He paused to let his words sink in. “You will need to tell me of your decision within the next two days.” Some of the men began to talk to the trooper next to them. Julius held his hand up and there was absolute silence once more.