Spears of Britannia

by Scott Hurst

  ‘Thank you, Amax.’ Max waved to the men in the darkness behind him. As Amax and his men joined them, quickly and silently they filtered through the gates into the sleeping town beyond. It was early morning. The last of the moonlight allowed them to move swiftly through the streets. Reaching the street corner before his home, now Dye and Calista’s headquarters, Max halted the force. In whispers he split his unit up into four groups, hoping that Dye’s men, confused by attacks from different directions, would surrender rather than fight. He put Salvius in command of one group but sent Madoc with him, knowing loyal Madoc would stop Salvius if he tried anything treacherous.

  Max gave his final orders. ‘It is vital we capture Dye and Calista.’ He motioned to the blue cloth strip he had tied around his arm. ‘And remember, men, to look out for our armbands. ’ All the men wore the same marker, to help identify themselves. Ordering his group into position Max gave the pre-arranged signal then led his men forward.

  A group of Dye’s retainers stood around a small brazier outside the house gates. As soon as they saw Max’s force running towards them they screamed an alarm. Spears were thrown. Two clattered harmlessly to the street, but to Max’s left one of his men fell. Sounds of conflict started on the other side of the villa. Max sprinted towards the house gate, urging the men behind him on. More of Dye’s men appeared, this time on the roof, throwing javelins.

  They were easy targets. Max saw more of his men go down. Their only hope was to get inside the house.

  Max was the first to reach the gates, just as the guards inside were trying to close them. Before they could get them bolted Max and his men put their shoulders hard to the wood, forcing it a little open. Hands came at them through the gap, jabbing spears and swords. Max felt something slice the flesh of his leg but kept pushing. Sabrina was on the other side of that gate. He had to get through.

  To either side, his men were throwing up ladders to reach the roof. Above his head young Amax fell off his ladder, speared through. The soldier pushing shoulder to shoulder with him groaned and fell sideways, blood streaming from his side. But slowly, slowly, the gate began to open. Heartened, they pushed harder. Finally the gate gave way, revealing one of Dye’s men on his knees, begging for his life. Victor hacked into his neck and as one they swept on into the house. In the darkness, Max saw the other guards who’d been holding the house gate scattering into the darkness. He charged forward but was blocked by a guard standing directly in front of him. They locked eyes. As the man lunged at him Max slashed at his shoulder, almost taking it off before charging on.

  For long minutes there was the sound of fighting and screams and shouts everywhere. Even in the confusion Max had a sense that Dye’s defence was crumbling. Already a group of his soldiers had fled out into the street. Others were dropping their weapons. Moving towards the house Max passed another group who had surrendered, surrounded by Victor’s grinning Bagaudae.

  In the house itself they met a determined-looking group of armed men. For a second the two forces faced off in the darkness then Max led the charge forward. Just as the two sides were about to clash he heard a voice. ‘Arelate! Arelate!’ Only then did Max take in the blue cloth tied to their weapons and belts. He grinned, recognizing the troops he’d sent with Salvius to attack the house from the west. Even in his relief there was no time to waste. ‘Find my brother and his wife!’

  Salvius’s men ran on into the darkness, looking for their targets. Max turned a corner and found himself face to face with Felix, his father’s faithful atriensis.

  ‘Oh, Master, it is so good to see you.’

  Felix’s suffering at the loss of his son could be seen on his face. There would be time to comfort him later. ‘Dye and Calista?’

  Felix replied quickly. ‘They fled when the attack began, with only a couple of servants.’

  Max’s heart stopped. ‘My wife – did they take her with them?’

  ‘Calista said to leave her, they had no time… I believe she’s locked in the stables.’ Thank God. She was safe…unless the guards had harmed her. Max ordered a group to continue searching for Dye and Calista and another to take prisoners. Racing towards the stables the area was littered with abandoned equipment. The stable itself looked empty. Had they taken her after all?

  And then he saw her, a small figure lying bound and gagged in a corner, dumped like a piece of garbage. She lay silent and unmoving. Fearing the worst, Max knelt beside her. Sabrina’s eyes flew open, the fear there instantly replaced by the sweetest look of joy and relief. Fingers trembling he removed her gag, kissing her fiercely. ‘Next time you’ll do as you’re told. You’re too precious to lose,’ he whispered sternly, gathering her to him.

  Even in her fear she’d been thinking, planning. ‘Do you have Dye and Calista?’

  ‘They fled - just before we arrived.’ It was as thought the thought arced between them. Had the two somehow been warned? If yes, then by whom?

  A few knife cuts and her bonds were released. He’d have given anything to close out the world for a few moments to be with her, but his men were waiting. Rising, she almost fell, she was so weak. Arm round her, Max escorted her back into the main house. All conflict had ceased. The household slaves had begun hailing their liberators. As he appeared in the door of the atrium with Sabrina at his side a loud roar went up. ‘Hail, Maximus! King Maximus! Hail, Queen Sabrina!’ His men began hailing him too, with all the fervour of those who had just faced death. Many of them were wounded. Max allowed the cheering to continue for a moment then shouted for quiet. ‘Well fought, men. You gave your all.’ Looking directly at Felix, he said, ‘All those we have lost their lives have given us a foundation for peace for generations to come.’ In the silence that followed he asked, ‘Have we found my brother or his wife? ’

  Madoc was frowning. ‘We’re scouring the town. They won’t get away.’

  Salvius had news: ‘There are people outside who would speak to you.’

  Wonderingly, Max took Sabrina by the hand and followed Salvius through the darkened house. As he passed his men they slapped him heartily on the shoulder, congratulating him. Slowly the reality of their victory was seeping in. Dye and Calista were still out there. But re-establishing power here in Verulamium was a great beginning.

  He arrived at the front gate of the house just as a pale dawn began filtering through the town. The streets outside the villa were packed with Catuvellauni waiting to hear the outcome of the battle. As soon as the throng saw him loud cries of acclamation rang out. ‘Maximus Arcturus!’

  He had to shout to make himself heard above the clamour. ‘People of Verulamium, I thank you!’ Approval rose up to meet him. Max raised his right arm, holding his sword aloft. ‘There is new management in the House of the Vellauni!’ Laughter rang out from the crowd. With a gesture he quieted them. ‘I know many of you loved my father. Many of you have grown less fond of my brother.’ Immediately he stilled the mutterings of anger. ‘My fervent hope is that I may restore your faith in my family. That together we heal our wounds to meet the challenges ahead.’ Another roar went up from the crowd. ‘It is time to restore security to our battered nation.’ Raising his voice he shouted, ‘Long live free Catuvellaunia!’

  And the crowd bellowed back at him, ‘Long live Maximus!’

  The throng began to disperse. Suddenly the tension and excitement of the attack began to wear off. Sabrina disappeared to supervise the clear up.

  Madoc slapped Max on the back. ‘Great speech!’

  Daylight was seeping through the shutters. Max wandered through the house. The servants had lit limps and were clearing up the mess. Paulinus was tending the wounded. Max found Sabrina directing the slaves as they restored order to their home. There were dark shadows under her eyes. What had she suffered these last days? She was so brave, so beautiful. Watching her he was filled with a fierce love. Going up behind her he clasped her tight. ‘We need some rest. Come on, let’s find somewhere to sleep.’

  She let him guide her. Their roo
ms were looted and in chaos. In Dye and Calista’s rooms there were signs of hasty departure. Valuables and furnishings had disappeared, but otherwise they were habitable. Sabrina lay down on the unmade bed, revelling in its softness. She stopped, suddenly smelling the pillow. ‘I smell Calista’s perfume.’ She looked up at him, even now ready to challenge him, provoke him. ‘She is a very beautiful woman. I imagined you lusted after her.’

  It was true, he had lusted after Calista. Even now he found himself reluctant to admit it. ‘Nonsense,’ he grinned, moving towards her. ‘It is you I lust after, and no other.’

  Deliberately she let her hand run across his chest. Suddenly he didn’t feel exhausted anymore. ‘They say that the act of love can be a restorative,’ he smiled playfully, lying down beside her. For long moments he kissed her, gently, lovingly. When he reached down to kiss her nipple she shivered. He drew back at once. Taking his hand again she ran it down her body. This time there was no holding back. When he’d gently caressed her all over, he entered her gently. Sabrina arched her back to help him, started moving with his body. He watched her face to see what gave her pleasure and what didn’t, holding himself back, intent on pleasing her as much as possible. Gradually their movements became faster, wilder. When she finally cried out, he couldn’t help crowing his delight. Sabrina moved her hand over his mouth, laughing. Lying on their backs next to each other, holding hands, letting the sweat of their bodies cool, Max listened to her breathing change.

  Silently he pulled the bed covers over them and then turned to watch her sleep.

  *****

  From his wooden throne Guidolin looked down at Dye and Calista, forced by their Dobunnic guards to kneel on the earthen floor. Astonishing that they would come to him, seeking asylum. They were even more brainless than he had thought. ‘So, you had to leave home in a hurry?’ he tutted. ‘Your new subjects proved less than loyal?’ He sighed in mock sympathy. ‘I must confess my surprise; we are a strange choice of sanctuary. Particularly for you, Calista? I gather in the past you have had a rather low opinion of the Dobunni.’

  Below her breath Calista muttered, ‘An opinion well deserved.’

  Terrified Dye hissed at her. ‘For once in your life, Calista, shut up!’

  ‘Wise words from your husband, my Lady.’ Dye turned to see who had spoken. A blonde child, a boy, no more than half grown. Guidolin’s nephew; Vortigern. Young, but clearly used to his power. At his casual gesture a guard marched in another terrified prisoner. Dye and Calista recognized one of the servants they had taken with them as they escaped.

  As his henchman forced the man to kneel, Guidolin explained his thinking. ‘We Dobunni are a most hospitable people, to those who show us respect. To those who disrespect us, such as your servant here, who illegally crossed into our territory with you, we can be distinctly inhospitable.’ Guidolin gestured again. The guard forced the now screaming servant to bow his head before decapitating him with four blows of his sword. Calista watched in horrified fascination. Dye collapsed, vomiting, as the carcass was dragged out, leaving a trail of blood. Guidolin gestured nonchalantly to the priest standing by his side. ‘Lupicinius here suggested we should deal with you two the same way. As king I take a more measured view of things. It seems to me we should have a cosy chat. At least find out why you’re here? By that I mean find out if you can be of more use to the Dobunni alive than dead.’ His eyes roved over Calista, taking in her confidence, her arrogance. Under his gaze she shrugged a shoulder, deliberately allowing her tunica to slip, revealing the rosy tip of her breast. ‘Let’s start with why you’re here.’

  Calista hesitated, waiting for Dye, still wiping vomit off his face with the edge of his cloak.

  Guidolin lost patience. ‘I suggest you answer quickly, or you’ll rapidly follow your servant there.’

  Dye started to jabber in his eagerness. ‘We have come to plead for your protection. We flee the persecution of my brother who has wrongfully stolen my kingship.’

  Guidolin held up his hands to silence the flow. ‘And to escape the retribution of your own people? We are well informed, Dionysius. It would be hard to find any other tribe who would actually welcome you.’

  Dye was gabbling again. ‘I’ve come back to my true homeland. The better half of me is of your blood.’

  Again Guidolin silenced him. ‘Why would I need a treacherous half-breed like you when I have plenty of loyal, full-blooded Dobunni?’

  Calista suddenly spoke, her voice almost calm. ‘My Lord Guidolin, do not act in haste. You need us, as much as we need you.’

  Young Vortigern erupted with laughter. ‘You have a sense of humour, Lady Calista.’

  There was a tremor in her voice, but it was still steady enough. ‘Your uncle intends to invade Catuvellaunia.’

  ‘And you would somehow seek to influence that invasion? How exactly?’ Though his voice was young, Vortigern’s blue eyes were piercing.

  Calista ignored him, looked at Guidolin instead. ‘I hate Maximus as much as you do, but I cede him one quality. He is a talented war leader. Unlike some,’ she sneered, looking sideways at the vomit-stained Dye. ‘As things stand, if you invade alone, you and your allies may lose. What I offer you is a guarantee that you will win.’ Seeing she had their attention, she went on. ‘Announce my husband and I as your allies, then make it known that you intend to put us back in power. You will split the Catuvellaunian opposition to you. We will call on our allies among the aristocracy to join us in exile. They will then march by your side against the usurper Maximus.’ Her strange eyes contained a challenge. ‘Without us, you may win. With us you are guaranteed victory – with less loss of life and an easier transition of power.’

  Guidolin regarded her thoughtfully. ‘And after I have put you back in power, what then? What guarantee do I have that you will not then become a threat to the Dobunni? ’

  Calista looked at her vomit-stained husband then back to Guidolin. ‘My Lord, I can see I was foolish in my ambitions. While the Catuvellauni have a noble heritage, some Dobunnic men are clearly superior to our Catuvellaunian nobles. As soon as we are back in power in Verulamium we will hail you as the new Rex Britannorum. We will rule the Catuvellauni. And you will rule us.’

  Guidolin looked down at her, thinking hard. ‘You believe me a better man than your husband?’

  Calista answered without hesitation. ‘Yes, my Lord.’

  ‘And a better man than Maximus, whom you once considered as a marriage partner?’

  A shadow flashed across Calista’s face, but she maintained his gaze. ‘Yes, my Lord.’

  Guidolin smiled, ‘Show me.’

  Calista feigned puzzlement. ‘Am I not already kneeling before you?’

  Guidolin smile down at her. ‘I am told you are ruthless, prepared to do anything to achieve your goals. Much like myself, in fact. I am sure therefore that you will find a way of satisfying me more fully on this matter. Perhaps we could discuss it further… in my bed chamber?’

  Dye, finally raising his head, stared in horror at his wife’s departing back.

  *****

  Max’s first act as king was to return his mother to the house of the Vellauni. His second, to assess the state of Catuvellaunia. Which of the many challenges facing his nation should be tackled first?

  As always Paulinus was his advisor. ‘It’s worse than we suspected, Maximus. All across the country there are abandoned settlements. Refugees crammed into any shelter they can find in the towns. And the Saxon raids are continuing.’

  ‘As well as raids by the Corieltauvi and Dobunni into the border areas.’ Max’s expression showed his frustration. ‘Why can’t they understand? Each tribe forms part of a whole. When we fight each other each side loses. Then we count the costs until the next war begins. All the while we cannot be separated; we are joined by the land itself. We are united – for good or for ill, as friends or as enemies. But it is only as a united force that we can defeat the Saxon threat. ’

  What was needed now was lead
ership. But most of the nobility had fled their estates. When he asked their slaves where they had gone the answer was always the same. ‘West.’ That could only mean one thing. Dye and Calista were shoring up support from behind Guidolin’s lines. This was a sinister turn of events indeed.

  Max could barely comprehend such betrayal. ‘We’ve been betrayed by our own nobles. Now we need our allies more than ever. Is it too early to plead with the other tribes to unite with us, Paulinus? Will they listen?’

  Paulinus regarded him sagely. ‘The question is not are they ready, Maximus? But rather are you?’

  *****

  Guidolin looked out at the assembled throng. The moment he had waited for so long would soon be upon him. Maximus of the Vellauni would be smashed. By the men in front of him. By his own people.

  ‘Gentlemen, we welcome you to the land of the Dobunni. I am told you are the best of the Catuvellauni, scions of her most noble and ancient lineages.’ He paused, choosing his words carefully. ‘Our tribes have had their differences in the past. But today we are gathered together in a great enterprise. Your rightful king and queen,’ he gestured to his right to where Dye and Calista were seated ‘intent to retake power’. Guidolin leered across at Calista, who turned away from him. Seeing her discomfort, Guidolin’s grin broadened. ‘When, in a few days’ time, you will march into Catuvellaunia, your brother warriors of the Dobunni will march by your side. With us will be other tribes, men of the Cornovii, of the Corieltauvi, the Atrebates, Iceni, and Cantii. Our combined forces will surround the usurper Maximus and his treacherous little slut of a wife. Victory is assured.’

  The assembled Catuvellaunian aristocrats and their retainers cheered, shouting their support. Amidst the noise Lupicinius hissed to Guidolin, ‘When the star Arcturus rises, when the omens are right and we take Catuvellaunia, we slaughter that pair of traitors and half of these fools along with them? You still mean to impose our own rule direct?’