by Griff Hosker
“Firstly you will not because you fear the wise one. Secondly you know I would come for you and you fear me but the main reason I am confident is your greed and your lust for riches. It was that lust for gold which made you abandon your lover. You know you will be richer with us than alone.”
He could not argue with her for he knew that she was right. “I will need more men that I can rely on than Centurion and Tiny if I am to lead an army of…How many men do you want me to find?”
She shrugged. “Two centuries? Perhaps two hundred men.”
“It would be difficult to find two hundred deserters.” He touched her mouth with his fingers, “but I am sure that I could find other, equally able men of equally dubious backgrounds, to fill the new legion. But I will need either Brennus or Tadgh to help me control them.” He pulled her head down to kiss her. “And now I believe you said something about making love?”
Surprisingly Centurion and Tiny both went enthusiastically along with the idea. “It seems safer than Gaul. I mean we don’t speak the language in Gaul do we? At least here we know what’s what. We know the country and we know the people. Deva is alright and I know a few taverns near Mamucium. I don’t think we’ll have a problem recruiting we just need somewhere to hide ‘em.”
“I told the Queen there were a few places south of Glanibanta that would work. The land there is mercifully free from patrols.”
“It was free from patrols. Now it may not be but we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. Have they said when we can see the armour and uniforms?”
“Tomorrow but I am not hopeful, I mean how much armour could they had collected?”
Even Centurion was impressed with what they found. Admittedly some of the armour was old and rusted and much needed repair but there was enough equipment to fit out a cohort. They would not fool a Roman but the Brigante of the west had not seen many Roman soldiers and would assume that was how they dressed. “Get it cleaned up and it will work.”
Centurion selected his own armour and said, “We’ll let our recruits do it. It will make them realise that they are part of an army and it helps if a man looks after his own gear.”
Brennus had been told he would be accompanying them to Deva. He looked disdainfully at the mail and shields. “A Brigante does not need such things,” he said as he threw the moulded cuirass to the ground.
“I know, “laughed Centurion “but for the next few weeks you are a Roman which also means, “ he winked at Tiny who knew what was coming, “you have to cut your hair and shave your beard off.”
Cursing in Brigante he stormed off to see Tadgh who had returned with two hundred wild Irishmen the day before. As they left they grinned at Brennus who sulked like a child having been told by Tadgh he had to look Roman.
When they left the next day on the small cog which the druids used to acquire supplies, the four men looked like Romans. All had worn the uniform of a centurion the previous day and passed inspection. As they watched the island recede in the distance they were all wearing the togas of the rich Romano-British middle classes. Decius felt very much at home as it was the dress he had grown up with. The other three shifted uncomfortably in the crisp white togas and sandals having only worn military garb for years. They had with them some of the Brigante of Brennus’ band. They would be responsible for guarding the armour and their base. For the other four the next week would be a dangerous and a difficult time as they moved amongst the lowest class of criminals, the outlaws. As he watched Manavia slip slowly away he remembered his last embrace with Morwenna. Lying between Maban and Anchorat she had whispered in his ear. “You are fecund are you not? All three of us are with child. If mine is a boy we have an heir to our thrones.”
“And if it is a girl?”
“Then she will join her sisters and become priestesses of the Mother and one of them will become as I am High Priestess.”
He was to be a father. Not that any sentiment came into that thought. He cared not for the future but it was a sobering thought that, when he returned to Manavia, or when Morwenna joined him there would be a child who would continue after he had turned to dust. He found himself wanting to share that idea with someone; not Centurion and Tiny. He realised, shockingly, that he wanted to tell his brother; the fool who followed the eagle and was on the opposite side of this conflict. The Roman Parcae were devious indeed. He shrugged his shoulders as though to rid himself of the thought; what would be would be. He could only control his only path and he would do so.
The ship brought them south east to a huge empty beach backed by a pine forest growing out of sand dunes speckled with straggly grass. The druids, the ship’s captain and Decius had all discussed the landing site and the refuge at length. Although Decius did not know the area well he knew that the landing site was forty miles from Mamucium and Deva, the two Roman bases in the area and that it was deserted. No-one lived there as the sandy soil could not support farms and the huge beaches deterred fishing. They had decided to find a place with water in the shallow pine forest and build a round house in which to store the armour and gold. Brennus, still muttering about his close cropped hair stayed with the Brigante while Decius and his two companions left to find animals and their first recruits. They only had a month in which to raise their band of cutthroats and they would have to begin their raids within two weeks.
Centurion led them across the deserted low lying land. There were few hills and few forests. Roads were non–existent and the country was as different as it was possible to be from the lands near Wyddfa and the land of the lakes. The lack of hills, however, made travelling simple. They had some good fortune on the first night. As they camped in the lee of a hill fifteen miles from their landing site, they saw the glow of a fire in a small copse less than a mile away. When they drew closer they saw that it was a merchant and his slave. More important was the horse and the mule. Transport. The two hapless travellers stood no chance against the ruthless killers who fell on them sand savagely ended their lives. They discovered some gold sewn into the merchant’s breeks and a pack with the black jet mined close to Streonshal. The man had been heading for Mona where he would have received top price for the precious stone valued by the remaining druids who hid there. It gave them a reason to travel to an inn; they had a cover story. As they ate the merchant’s meal which his dead slave had so thoughtfully prepared Decius smiled. Perhaps there was something to this religion which Morwenna followed for good fortune seemed to be with them. Already they were richer and safer as a result of their chance encounter, if chance it was.
The animals made the journey swifter as Decius could ride and his two companions found it easy to jog alongside. Centurion took them south to the recently built Roman bridge which crossed the Seteia Fluvia. It was half way between Mamucium and Deva but more importantly it had no garrison. A small vicus had grown up at this important crossing and there were many inns. Its proximity to the mountains of Wyddfa and the hills which divided the land to the east meant that it was frequented not only by travellers but those seeking an escape to a wild place.
They reached it on the evening of the second day. They found the inn which Centurion said was the most respectable. As a trader it would have been the one Decius should have chosen. Once he was ensconced then Centurion and Tiny would find the more dangerous ones to secure the services of the cut throats, low life and villains they sought. The inn keeper’s eyes almost popped out his head when the rich merchant entered and paid for a room and stabling in advance. He was not surprised that the well heeled traveller wished for his slaves to sleep in the stable for how else did one become rich other than by watching the denari?
Leaving Decius to enjoy a hot meal and wine Centurion nodded and took Tiny across the river to the less respectable side of the vicus. Both wore leather cuirasses beneath their tunics and were armed with daggers strapped to their legs and gladii beneath their tunics. The men they were seeking were desperate men and the two warriors were under no illusions. They might have t
o break a couple of heads before they could get the men they sought. As they paused outside the first inn, a dimly lit timber built building with a low buzz of noise Centurion took a deep breath and said to Tiny, “Ready?” The big man nodded, “Remember just watch my back and let me do the talking.” Tiny grunted. Both knew that talking was not his strength. Just before they entered he dropped his cudgel under the small elder bush which had sprung up there.
Chapter 9
The noise stopped as soon as they entered and every eye was drawn to them. Centurion took in the hands reaching beneath the rough hewn tables reaching for, obviously weapons. The cheap tallow candles gave off more smoke than light adding to the murk. There was only one empty table and it close to the door which led off the main room. Centurion sighed with relief for it was against a wall, their backs would be safe. They sat down and waited the eerie silence making even Centurion uncomfortable. A scarred one eyed man shuffled over and stared at them, his one eye moving from one to the other. “Ale and food.” The man did not move but held out his hand. Centurion held out one coin. When the innkeeper tried to take it Centurion grabbed his wrist. “We hope to be frequent visitors but we expect good service. Do you understand? Soldier.”
The man’s one eye widened. Centurion had recognised the tattoo on the top of his arm. “I serve good beer and food you will be safe.” Turning he gave an imperceptible nod and the room began talking again. “Nice welcome eh Tiny?”
Tiny nodded at a group of men who were sat by the door. “They look like ex-soldiers.” Centurion nodded his agreement. The four men had shorter hair than the Brigante wore and each wore the unmistakeable caligae which marked them as Roman soldiers.
“I’ll leave first. When they follow you know what to do.” Tiny nodded.
The food, when it came, was at least edible, a local game stew with black bread. The innkeeper had been right, the beer was acceptable. As he turned to leave, Centurion held out another small coin. “Who were you with then?”
Taking the money he lowered his head to keep his words for the two men alone. “Second Augusta.”
“Tough legion. Who did this to you?”
Spitting into the glowing fire he snapped, “Fucking Silures bastards. Who did you serve with?”
“The Ninth.”
“They are north of here now eh.”
“A little too close for my liking. I’ll be heading south in a few days.”
“Like that eh?”
Centurion’s hand went to his blade. “You have a problem with that?”
Chuckling the man turned to return to his kitchen, “Let’s just say you are not alone here.”
As they finished their meal Centurion winked at Tiny, “Well we came to the right place. Time to recruit.” He stood and drained his beaker. Tiny looked up and shook his head. Centurion shrugged and left their little play acting finished. Tiny waited until the four men purposefully left the inn and followed Centurion a few minutes later. He emptied his beaker and then he too left. He could see Centurion striding towards the bridge and the four men walking furtively behind. Pausing only to retrieve the cudgel he had hidden under a bush he moved surprisingly quietly for a big man to close the distance between him and the four would be assailants. He smiled for he could see what they planned. They would take Centurion at the bridge, rob him and then dispose of his body in the water. He knew that Centurion would know this and would be prepared. As Centurion reached the bridge he whirled around his gladius extended in his hand.
The four ex-soldiers were taken aback; they had thought they had an easy victim. Their leader spread his arms wide and smiled, “Friend there is no need for swords but you are obviously a man with money while we are poor old soldiers. All we want is your purse and then you can be on your way. It is not too much to ask is it? To help those who made Rome great?”
Throwing his head back and laughing Centurion hissed, “Scum sucking leeches like you probably ran in the first attack. Piss off!”
The leader’s smile disappeared and he and his companions pulled out their pugeos. “Then we’ll do it the hard way. You might have a sword but we are four against one.”
He got no further as Tiny smashed his cudgel into the back of the head and said, “Two.”
As the other three looked at the new assailant Centurion punched the pommel of his sword into the face of a second attacker, “Against two.”
The last two found the tips of two razor sharp gladii held to their necks. “Spare us please!”
“I am not sure we have the right men here Tiny. You two pick up your mates and take them across the river.” He pointed. “Behind that stable there.”
As soon as they entered the stable Centurion threw them four lengths of rope. “Hobble yourselves and then your friends.” One of them looked as though he was going to object and Centurion leaned in and said in his ear, “It does not matter to me if you are awake or not and my friend here is very handy with a cudgel as you can see.” The man looked at the erstwhile leader whose head was leaking blood. They complied.
The soldier who had been hit by Centurion’s sword came to and Centurion pricked his neck with the point of his gladius as his eyes opened. “Just a reminder friend that we hold your pathetic lives cheaply. Now you will be wondering why we have made your acquaintance this evening. Obviously you have no money so we are not robbers. What else can you offer us? And before you start to worry in case we are bum bandits we aren’t. No we want you because you are all deserters.” The one who had been hit by the sword opened his mouth to protest. “And we are not here to return you for punishment. Tiny and I had the pleasure of serving with the Imperial army until we decided to go into business for ourselves and we would like to offer you the opportunity to join our enterprise.” He allowed them a few moments for the idea to sink in. They exchanged looks and then looked back at Centurion. “Good you are interested. Well here it is. We are starting up, what would you call it Tiny, ah yes, a little army.” Tiny nodded and grinned his toothy lopsided grin. It was not a pleasant sight. “You will be fed, clothed and paid, in gold.” He saw their eyes light up. Stabbing his gladius into the ground he took four denari from his purse and dropped them from one hand to the other slowly. “This would be your first pay. All you have to do is agree to join us.”
They looked at each other and then the one with the injured jaw said, “What if we don’t want to join you? What if we are loyal citizens of the Empire?”
“Then I would have misjudged you. Incidentally I rarely do that but if that were the case then my friend here would knock you on the head and return you to the tavern.”
Once again they looked at each but before they could come up with another answer their leader began to come to. “Perhaps this is the moment when my friend and I retire to the door so that you can explain the situation to your headstrong friend and then you can give us your answer.”
They moved out of earshot but close enough to prevent the hobbled soldiers from escaping. The conversation was punctuated by gestures at Tiny and Centurion. Finally, after the discussion, they turned to face their captors. The leader spoke. “My men have told me of your offer. I am Nuada once chosen man in the Tungrians. I would be lying if I didn’t say I was interested but there are some questions which need answering.”
“Go ahead Nuada and we will tell you our names when you have accepted our offer.”
“How much is the pay?”
“An excellent question. There will be a denarius a week,” he held his hand up to stop their protest, “plus a share in the profits and there will be many profits.”
“Fair enough. Second question. What do we have to do to earn this money?”
“Be soldiers and follow orders. What you did for Rome but this time we are working for ourselves.”
“So we are likely to come up against Romans?”
“I like the way you think Nuada. You have a keen sense of self preservation and I will not lie to you. There will be times when we will have to fight Romans. H
owever it will not be the legions and we will never fight unless we outnumber them. Our foes will, generally, be unarmed, perhaps merchants perhaps farmers, maybe miners.”
“So we will be bandits?”
“If you would like to view it that way. We prefer the term freedom fighters for we are, after all, fighting for our freedom.”
“A few moments?”
“Go ahead.” As they talked Centurion turned to Tiny. “We have them.” Tiny nodded.
Nuada spoke. “We agree.”
As an answer Centurion nodded to Tiny who slit their bonds. At the same time he placed a coin in each of their hands. “Now would you like to start earning money?”
Nuada grinned evilly. “Who do we have to kill?”
“No-one yet. We are keen to recruit more men of your ilk. If the four of you know other like minded freedom fighters then we will give you one denarius for every five you bring and they will each receive one denarius as you did.”
“That sounds good to me. When do you want these men?”
“By tomorrow meet us here after dark and say your goodbyes for we will be moving on after that.”
“Right we will see you then er…”
“You can call me Centurion and this is Tiny.”
“Right until tomorrow. Nuada led his men towards the door; as he neared Tiny he swung his fist in a roundhouse punch aimed at Tiny’s head. The giant had seen the signs and had been expecting it, his huge fist enclosed Nuada’s hand and he began to squeeze.
“Silly boy, Tiny was following my orders when he hit you. Drop him Tiny.” Tiny released the hand which was white and almost drained of blood. “If you want to take Tiny on then be my guest but next time I won’t stop him and I will be short one soldier. Understand?”
