Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 06] Druid's Gold

by Griff Hosker

  The deserters quickly finished the job of butchering sleeping Romans and then fired the barracks. It would take time to burn but that did not worry them for, having stripped the dead soldiers of their valuables, they now launched themselves into the vicus where the pickings would be that much greater, especially amongst the merchants who had built their houses so close to the protective walls of the fortress. Others who ran voraciously from the fort had enough treasure and sought only one thing, women. Having campaigned and fought across Britannia they were desperate for women and the females of Eboracum were going to have a rude awakening when the rapacious raiders entered their homes.

  Decius and his disciplined detachment were making their way down the quayside examining boats. They did not want a bireme for that required an oared crew nor were they seeking a boat which was too small. Eventually they lighted upon a two masted ship known as a cladivata. They could see a name, a little faded, painted on the rounded stern, The Dubris. It was about fifty paces long and could easily accommodate both Decius’ men and the gold. Even better from their point of view there was a watch aboard, evidenced by the orange glow from the light beneath the canvas awning close to the rudder. Centurion tapped Tiny on the shoulder when they were less than a hundred paces from the vessel. Tiny and the five men detailed for the task slipped from their horses and ran down the cobbled quayside covered with sand to the boat. They slipped over the side of the wooden ship and surrounded the four men of the watch. The watch keepers were used to pirates and thieves, the cudgels and knives they kept at their side was testament to that but armoured Roman soldiers were another matter.

  The second mate thought at first they were from the fortress, “What is wrong we have paid our mooring taxes tell the...”

  Tiny grinned his evil toothless lopsided grin, “Forget the taxes you now have new owners.”

  “Who?”

  Centurion and Decius had followed Tiny and Decius hissed, “Us! Now cast off and get this tub underway.”

  “Where to? The tide…”

  Decius slipped his gladius under the chin of the first mate. “Do not try to be clever with me! The tide does not affect the river here and we wish to go downstream. Now will you give the order or shall I promote someone else whilst lightening the load by one fool?”

  Realising that the soldier knew more than most about sailing, he turned to his men. “Cast off aft. Raise the foresail.”

  “That’s better.” As the four men raced to their work Decius watched the flames take hold of the fort and heard the screams from the vicus. Soon his men would realise he had fled. Some would desert once more, a few might actually rejoin Morwenna and a few, possibly, might emulate their General and steal a ship to leave Britannia. Decius did not care. Soon his gold would be aboard and he would be sailing south. He had reflected on Centurion’s idea about Africa and, although it seemed a long way away, that in itself was a good thing for the Imperial memory was long and for him to have escaped twice would necessitate a hunt of some kind. If he found sanctuary in Africa it would give him the chance to build up a power base; working with Morwenna had shown him that he and Centurion had a flair for raising and organising an army. The Kingdom of King Decius, he liked the sound of that.

  *

  Morwenna and her army were also awake soon after midnight. The scouts had reported the small Roman camp and were watching from a safe distance. Her army would march the ten miles and arrive soon after dawn. By then the attack on Eboracum should be well under way making it safe for her to begin her attack. Ernan, Tadgh and even Decius had been agreed about the timing of the attack; they wanted it to take place just when the Romans were breaking camp. The sudden appearance of Morwenna’s huge army would throw even the disciplined Roman force into uncertainty and possibly confusion. She had no doubt that she outnumbered the force which faced her by ten to one and she was equally confident that she would defeat it. If Brennus and Decius could capture Eboracum then she had won. The whole of the land of the Brigante could be controlled from Eboracum. The Romans had built the lynch pin of the north with its port and its roads; by capturing it she would control the region and she knew that many others would flock to her banner. Trinovante, Iceni, Atrebate, Silures; all would flock to the only place in Britannia outside of Roman control and then they would regain the whole of Britannia for her son, the child of the Trinovante and Brigante. The Romans would send other armies to attack her but the steady stream of soldiers leaving Britannia to fight in Trajan’s eastern wars meant that there were only three legions left in the whole of Britannia; the Ninth was the only one which could strike at her and here she was destroying one, possibly two cohorts at one fell swoop. Once Lulach and those north of the Stanegate realised that the frontier was crumbling they would flood towards Coriosopitum and Luguvalium, eliminating the rest of the Ninth. She smiled, the Mother was indeed with her, this morning’s work would see her victorious.

  She mounted her white horse her druidic and Irish bodyguards surrounding her like a phalanx of steel. Tadgh raised his sword and the army moved like an enormous snake towards the Romans who still appeared to be abed, still asleep and still unaware that death was hunting them.

  *

  The Roman camp was anything but abed. Every man was already dressed and had been fed for some time. Prefect Fulvius knew the value of an army which had a full stomach and the cooks had made cauldrons of hot food the previous night and it was still warm in the cold early hours. They had deliberately camped early so that the men could get some rest before their early awakening. Every century was collecting the caltrops and lillia which would litter the ground before them. The auxiliaries were packing their quivers as full as possible of arrows for they were the rain which would dampen the Queen’s parade.

  As each century was equipped they left by the Porta Decumana to take up their positions on the low ridge which overlooked the camp. Livius’ Explorates had established that there were no enemy scouts there and the lethal bolt throwers were already in position. The centuries lined the ridge below them.

  The Prefect and Livius stood with First Spear watching the silent centuries calmly take their positions on the gentle ridge below the scorpions. “This is the hard part eh First Spear? The waiting?”

  First Spear shook his head at the idiocy of the prefect’s comment. “With due respect Prefect the worst part is when you are nose to nose with a tattooed hairy arsed barbarian who is trying to disembowel you. The lads down there will take this every day of the week and twice on their day off.”

  “Quite.” The Prefect, who had never fought in a shield wall, was perplexed.

  “I think what the prefect means is this is the worst time for us waiting to see have we made the correct decision and plans.”

  “Exactly decurion. Quite the point I intended to make.”

  “Ah well that could be true. If they don’t bother attacking us and just take Eboracum then we have lost. The fortress controls the main road north.”

  “That was my worry but I want to destroy this army sooner rather than later and we will have to destroy it First Spear.”

  “Even if she does capture Eboracum sir, and from what you said about the depleted garrison I think you may be right, it doesn’t matter. We can just get the engineers to build some ballistae and pound the walls down. The barbarians do not have the mentality to fight behind barriers. They think it is womanish to fight behind a shield or a wall. They like to get at you man to man.”

  “So you are saying First Spear, that I could be right?”

  Winking at Livius he replied, “What I am saying sir is I hope you are right or my lads’ guts will be spread over this field and Rome will have lost.”

  Livius pointed at the fort, now largely deserted apart from the smoke form the camp kitchen, giving the illusion that it was still occupied. “They will either waste time attacking the fort or be channelled across your front.”

  “Hopefully the latter but that largely depends upon you and your men Decurion Sall
ustius.” The Prefect became serious. “I realise I am putting a large burden on your shoulders but if you can enrage them and draw them into our arrows before they are ready then I believe we will succeed.”

  “I can I am sure but that means that you will have to hold for a long morning until the reinforcements arrive.”

  “I know but it is like the Queen’s world, all magic. We make them think they can win against our small numbers and crush them at just the right moment.”

  First Spear coughed. “And speaking of time decurion….”

  “Yes I know. It is time to go.”

  First Spear clasped Livius’ arm firmly, “May the Allfather watch over you and your men.”

  The rest of the Explorates were waiting looking far more military than normal. They all wore the helmets with the red horsehair crest and had their red cloaks over their shoulders. Their shields had been burnished and each man held three javelins. Proudest of all was Cassius holding the swallow tailed standard of Marcus’ Horse. He looked at the men before him and felt pride fill his throat. There were but nineteen in total; Decius, Drusus, Marius and the others would have helped swelling their numbers to twenty four but they could still make a show. If Morwenna and the Brigante thought that Marcus’ Horse had reformed they would do all in their power to destroy them but the real attraction and the real bait was in the scabbard hanging from his side. The two boys had spent all night polishing the razor sharp blade and burnishing the metal on the scabbard. It now gleamed and sparkled in the early sun just rising behind them.

  “Men we are, for one day only, Marcus’ Horse again. But understand me we are not here to fight. We are here to make them charge us. Ovidius and Rufius, yours will be the hardest of roles for you will be the last pair and the pair closest to the enemy are you prepared?”

  Rufius nodded holding up his bow. “As you ordered we have no javelins just bows.”

  “Good. You are the best two shots we have,” he heard a snort and realised that Macro and Marcus Gaius were close by, “the best two shots we have who are soldiers I should say.” The men laughed for they had all become fond of the two boys who had endeared themselves to the Explorates with their energy and enthusiasm not to say their courage as recounted by Rufius. “It may be that you can emulate young Macro and fire backwards from the saddle.” he became serious. “Remember the field before the ridge is sown with caltrops. We will need to ride parallel to the front and only wheel on my command. It will expose us to their archers.”

  Cassius snorted in derision. “I have seen their archers and they couldn’t hit a barn door.”

  “Yes Cassius but all they need is a lucky hit on a horse and that could spell disaster. Daylight is here. Let us ride.”

  He was gratified to hear a roar of Marcus’ Horse, not only from his men but the auxiliaries and legionaries who watched them ride proudly off into the west.

  *

  Morwenna saw the Irish warrior galloping in his face filled with excitement and she knew the news he brought. “We attack now.”

  Ernan looked at her in amazement but Tadgh and the Druids knew of her power. “But he may be bringing news that they have failed.”

  “Ernan, he is bringing the news we seek. Tadgh, forward.”

  The rider slewed his horse around, almost falling in the process.”Message from the General, we have Eboracum. Brennus will be following soon.”

  Ernan was not convinced and leaned forward. “You saw the fort fall?”

  “I saw the gates opened and the Brigantes butchering the garrison if that is what you mean.”

  The army moved forward on a wide front. Tadgh and the elite warriors were in the centre while the recent recruits were on the right. The remainder of the deserters made up a cohort on the left of the line. Morwenna was tucked behind Tadgh with her druidic and Irish bodyguards around her like a box. They had a front of five hundred men and it was over ten warriors deep. Tadgh wanted the momentum of a huge block of men to roll over the Roman line. The scouts had reported that the Roman camp was in a shallow valley between two ridges which would give his men the momentum of a downhill charge. He just hoped that they had not moved out in the hours of darkness and he prayed, as the sun began to peep over the skyline, that they would see the legionaries labouring to dismantle their fort; then he knew that they would win.

  Tadgh had impressed upon his men the need to keep a solid line. He had fought against the Romans before and admired their cohesion. Orders had been given that any man who was ahead of Tadgh would be sent to the rear of the line. None of them wished to risk that and the line was far more ordered than one might have expected.

  The deserters on the right all had shields and helmets but they had a variety of other weapons from spears and javelins to gladii and spatha. They looked formidable but they were leaderless and they were the weaker element of the deserter army. Mocius was now one of the officers having shown bravery at Mamucium despite being thrust into the front line of the attack. He looked around and realised that he was the last of the first volunteers, the rest were either dead or with Decius. If it gave him any concern he did not show it for he was enjoying being a soldier again, albeit a private soldier.

  The Brigante in the middle deigned to wear armour but many had shields and their weaponry ranged from axes and spears to swords. On the right the ordinary Brigante had with spears or improvised weapons such as a wood axe or a scythe. Tadgh had placed them there because he knew that they were the weakest element of the army but he also knew that Brennus would be arriving from that direction to bolster them. As they emerged over the ridge he saw that the camp was still there, the Romans were abed. The Queen had been right and they had caught them napping. A roar began to erupt from the line as the army realised their plan was working.

  Tadgh turned to the warrior next to him, Brennus’ brother Aldus, “We have them. They will either stay behind the pathetic palisade or run. The Queen’s plan has worked.”

  “I never doubted it. She is a powerful witch and she knows things that are beyond the imagination of mere warriors like us. She will truly lead us to greatness.”

  The murmurings from the warriors in the font line showed that, they too, felt the same way. Tadgh felt the pride swelling his heart almost to bursting. With a Queen such as Morwenna and warriors such as these they could not only rid their land of Romans but the whole of Britannia. Tadgh almost risked a glance over his shoulder to the Queen. He knew of the liaison with Decius who was a descendant of Cunobleinus, the last king of Britain and he knew too of the child safe in Manavia. The land of the Brigante was but the first step to the land of Britannia.

  One of his warriors suddenly shouted a warning as a column of Roman cavalry appeared. Where had they come from? No cavalry was known to be operating in this area. Their spies had told them that the Gallic cavalry were close to Coriosopitum so who were these? Aldus asked, “Do we halt?”

  Tadgh realised that had unconsciously slowed up. “Of course not. It is but a handful of men. What will they be able to do? What can they do against this might host? They must be scouts.”

  “They look well armed for scouts. The leader has armour and look at the standard.”

  With a sinking heart Tadgh could see that it was, indeed the standard of Marcus’ Horse. It had been reformed! His eyes nervously scanned the horizon for more horsemen and doubt entered his mind. What if they had got around their flanks and even now were approaching the rear? It seemed like a typical Roman trick to attack the Queen while her warriors were fighting their legionaries. He could do little about that but he relaxed a little when he realised that the Queen was as astute as any and she would be able to see what he saw.

  The column of riders rode to within one hundred paces and spread out in a pathetically thin line of seventeen troopers with the leader and standard bearer in front. What were they doing? Were they going for a suicidal charge? Tadgh could see that while that might be suicide a charge at the centre of the line could take out the leadership of the a
rmy. “Halt!” The whole line juddered to a halt. There was a little jostling at the ones further back pushed forward but the line was solid.

  The rider rode forwards and looked to Tadgh a little familiar. Suddenly he drew out his sword and called, “I am Livius Lucullus Sallustius, Decurion Princeps of Marcus’ Horse and this is the Sword of Cartimandua. I command you as loyal Brigante to lay down your weapons and surrender. Your loyalty is not to an illegitimate misguided witch but to the honour and memory of Queen Cartimandua, the last rightful Queen of the Brigante murdered by the witch’s mother.”

  There was a roar of anger from the Brigante but Tadgh held up his hand to silence them. He stepped forward. “I know that the sword belongs to me as Chief of the Brigante and I would thank you to hand it over. Were he with us today I am sure your brother would take it from you himself.”

  Livius’ face did not register any sign that he had heard Tadgh’s comment but he stored the information that his brother was elsewhere. “If my brother were here he would be arrested and tried for theft and treason.” He pointed to the deserters. “All of you are guilty of treason but if you lay your weapons down you will be treated fairly. I give you my word.”

  Tadgh could see that Livius was as persuasive as his brother and he sensed some mumblings from his left. He had to act decisively. “Roman I will fight you man to man for the weapon. If you win we leave and if I win I take the sword.” His men began to bang their weapons on their shields in approval.