The Wrath of Boudicca

by The Wrath of Boudicca (retail) (epub)

  Before Virrius could answer, a commotion at the wall made them turn and a horseman galloped through the gate, causing panic amongst the guards.

  ‘Hold that man,’ screamed Virrius and soldiers ran forward to grab at the horse’s reins. The animal was lathered with sweat from hard riding and the rider slumped in the saddle, obviously exhausted. Eager hands lowered the man from the horse and sat him against a cartwheel while he drank eagerly from an offered water bottle.

  ‘Make way,’ shouted Virrius and the group opened up before him.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Virrius. ‘And where have you come from?’

  The man struggled to his feet before answering.

  ‘My lord, my name is Tubero from a vexillation attached to the command of Catus Decianus.’

  ‘I know of him,’ said Petillius, ‘what causes this state?’

  ‘My lord, we received a request from Camulodunum to send support to resist a barbarian attack. Decianus sent a full two hundred cavalry to aid the defence but we were ambushed by archers and spearmen. My entire unit fell but I was allowed to ride free with a message.’

  ‘What message?’

  ‘My lord, I am to tell the governor that our time in Britannia is over. Leave these islands now or suffer her wrath.’

  ‘Whose wrath?’

  ‘Boudicca, my lord, Queen of the Iceni.’

  ‘Boudicca,’ growled Virrius, ‘I knew I should have had her killed.’

  ‘You know of this woman?’ asked Petillius.

  ‘I do, she is the woman who claims the throne of the Iceni. I thought we had made her see sense but obviously I was wrong. Leave this to me, my lord. I will take the first cohort and ride to Camulodunum immediately.’

  ‘You waste your time,’ said Tubero. ‘Camulodunum has already fallen and lies in ashes.’

  ‘What?’ gasped Petillius. ‘You must be mistaken. Even if the stories of a barbarian army are true, they have no siege engines. How could they breach the walls of a city?’

  ‘By subterfuge and weight of numbers, my lord. I am told they were as ants upon the ground.’

  ‘How do you know this to be true?’ snapped Virrius.

  ‘I was taken to see the ruins of Camulodunum myself,’ said Tubero, ‘and the rest I heard from other prisoners. They destroyed the entire city and showed no mercy to any linked with Rome. Everyone is dead.’

  ‘And the temple?’

  ‘Destroyed.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Virrius. ‘Why did they let you go untouched?’

  ‘I never said I was untouched,’ said the man, and slowly removed his sword arm from beneath his cloak. The end was wrapped in a stinking bloody bandage of linen, evidence of a horrific injury beneath.

  ‘They took the fingers of my sword arm,’ said Tubero, ‘so I could not return to fight against them. There is no benefit in me lying to you.’

  ‘I believe you, Tubero,’ said Petillius. ‘Get yourself to the Medicus, perhaps there is something they can do to dress the wounds.’

  ‘The wounds have been sealed in the flames of Boudicca’s fire,’ said Tubero. ‘They wanted to protect against infection so I lived long enough to deliver the message.’

  ‘See what they can do,’ said Petillius and turned to Virrius. ‘Attend me in my tent immediately and summon the other officers.’

  ‘My lord, there is one more thing,’ said Tubero. ‘After the sacking of Camulodunum there was a great revelry amongst their people and they openly boasted of their next target.’

  ‘And you heard them?’

  ‘I did. They intend to march on Londinium within the next few days.’

  ‘You are sure about this?’

  ‘Yes, my lord. They made no attempt to hide their intentions for having taken the Colonia, they fear no legion.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Petillius, ‘you will be rewarded for your information. Now get that hand seen to.’ The Legate turned and marched back to his quarters while Virrius finished dealing with his men.

  ‘Secure the prisoners and stable the horses,’ shouted Virrius. ‘Stand down and get some hot food and sleep. Something tells me we may be riding back out sooner than we think.’

  The men carried on with their duties while Virrius followed Petillius across the camp. One soldier reached down and dragged the beaten boy to his feet and placed a Pugio blade against his throat.

  ‘Enough of your shit, boy,’ he said, ‘you’ll get no such mercy from us. Now, either you come with me peacefully or you won’t live long enough to even see those tin mines the Legate speaks of.’

  The prisoner scowled but another of the captives spoke up.

  ‘Boy, leave it. We are within the viper’s nest and now is not the time to fight. Conserve your strength for a more opportune time.’

  Slowly the young boy backed off, realising his comrade was right. This wasn’t the time or the place. But one thing he was sure of, there was no way he was going to be a slave of any man and within the next few days he would escape or die trying.

  ‘That’s better,’ said the guard, ‘now start moving.’

  The line of prisoners shuffled toward a smaller wooden stockade within the camp. In amongst them, nursing the fresh wound across his face was Taliesin, the last true blood king of the Deceangli.

  * * *

  As was normal for a war briefing, all the Tribunes and senior Centurions gathered within the large command tent of the legion commander. Petillius was pacing back and forth, his mind racing with this new information. When everyone had gathered, he briefed them on the news of Camulodunum. The officers were stunned. Most had spent time in Camulodunum on their periods of leave, enjoying the surroundings that the colony had made similar to those back in Rome. Many had friends or family living there and though it was officially forbidden, they knew that many of the soldiers had wives and girlfriends within those walls.

  The mood was ugly and voices were raised in anger.

  ‘My lord, we have to leave right away,’ shouted one of the Tribunes. ‘Perhaps it is not too late to provide aid.’

  ‘The city is burned and the crows pick over our dead,’ said Petillius.

  ‘Even in the midst of carnage there are survivors,’ said another. ‘Our men have families within the city and they may need our aid. They could be hiding amongst the rubble, waiting for help to arrive.’

  Petillius held up his hand.

  ‘Gentlemen, I agree the wisdom in providing aid but there is something else to consider. If the stories are true then this Boudicca has a formidable army under her control and whilst I doubt not our ability to deal with her threat, if we split the legion in half then we provide easy targets for her army. This I cannot contemplate so there are three options open to me. Stay here and send news to Suetonius asking for support, ride to Camulodunum in the hope of finding survivors, leaving the route to Londinium open, or seek out this woman and deal with the threat head on. I realise many will have lost loved ones in Camulodunum but to ride there now is a fool’s quest. We have been told that this woman’s army vented its rage on every living thing and the city is devoid of life. It is tragic but let the pain add strength to our soldiers’ arms. I will not lead our legion on a funerary mission when there are thousands more Roman citizens still alive in other towns. If our intelligence is true, they have set their sights on Londinium and with good weather can get there within ten days. Though it is not a walled city as was Camulodunum, its importance is just as great if not more. The banks of the River Tamesas are alive with our trading ships.’

  The tent fell silent as the implications sank in.

  ‘I feel the loss of our countrymen,’ continued Petillius, ‘yet it is the living we should concentrate on, not the dead. I will send word to Suetonius to keep him informed but in the meantime, we march the legion out as soon as possible, not as grave diggers but as soldiers of Rome. We will seek out this Boudicca and face her head on. Let’s see how brave her barbarians are in the face of a seasoned legion, not a retired settlement. Tell the m
en that tomorrow we prepare, for dawn the next day we march to battle.’

  The men cheered their support and Petillius turned to Virrius.

  ‘Send out the scouts,’ he said, ‘and tell them the first to report on the location of this so-called army will have first choice of plunder when barbarians’ rotting bodies litter the landscape. Find her for me, Virrius, give me this woman.’

  ‘Leave it to me, my lord,’ said Virrius and saluted before leaving the tent.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Forests of the Trinovantes

  Boudicca sat beside a waterfall in one of the forest streams, reciting prayers to her gods in gratitude for her victory. When she was finished, she cast a golden Torc into the water and watched it sink under the surface before turning away to walk back to her camp.

  ‘Rianna, you startled me,’ she said, seeing her friend standing close by.

  ‘Me, frighten a great warrior queen such as you? Surely not,’ said Rianna.

  ‘Warrior queen? I think not,’ said Boudicca. ‘Camulodunum may have fallen but I was there in name only; my blade is yet un-bloodied.’

  ‘There will be time enough,’ said Rianna. ‘When your strength has returned then you can lead us in conflict.’

  ‘Is there time?’ asked Boudicca. ‘Yes our victory was great, but how long can we keep the alliance together before the tribes revert to the conflict of our ancestors?’

  ‘This is not yet a worry to bear,’ said Rianna. ‘At the moment, every warrior is drunk on victory and would follow you into hell itself. Just enjoy it for what it is.’

  ‘There is no joy in the victory, Rianna. There is satisfaction and there is comfort in the revenge but I find no joy in ending another’s life. It is a task that needs doing and one we will see through to the end, but joyous it is not. Anyway, what brings you out here?’

  ‘I came to find you,’ said Rianna, ‘we have word from our spies. The Hispana legion has broken camp and is heading our way.’

  Boudicca’s head turned sharply.

  ‘Where are they?’ she asked. ‘And at what strength?’

  ‘They are at White-water valley,’ said Rianna, ‘and march at full strength.’

  ‘If they have left their fort it means they are set on a mission,’ said Boudicca. ‘This isn’t a mercy mission to Camulodunum but a campaign against a foe.’

  ‘Us?’ asked Rianna.

  ‘It has to be,’ said Boudicca, ‘there is no other threat to them in this area.’

  ‘Do you want me to order the army dispersed?’

  ‘Dispersed? Oh no, Rianna, quite the opposite. The bear has smelled the honey and leaves his lair. Summon the clan leaders to meet here at dawn. This is an opportunity too good to miss.’

  * * *

  Petillius rode at the head of his legion. Behind him marched almost five thousand men at arms, ranging from the heavily armoured legionary cohorts, to the light infantry and the more specialised units, the archers, spear throwers and slingers. Cavalry units flanked both sides and behind them came the ox-drawn wagons carrying the legion’s supplies, itself guarded by a further two cohorts of auxiliary cavalry.

  It was an impressive sight, and he knew it would take more than these barbarians could muster to defeat a legion. Since the fleet had landed the four legions seventeen years earlier, there had been minor setbacks but never had an entire legion been threatened, and though it had happened elsewhere in the empire, it was unheard of in Britannia.

  They had been on the march for three days, laying waste to every village they could find in an effort to get information about the army of Boudicca, but so far they had heard nothing.

  Virrius was riding at his side discussing tactics, when they saw a group of riders galloping toward them. Petillius held up his hand and the buglers sounded the halt. Behind them, the message passed back and the soldiers took the unexpected yet welcome opportunity to rest.

  ‘Who are they?’ asked Petillius.

  ‘Batavian scouts,’ said Virrius. ‘It looks like they have news.’

  ‘See what they want,’ said Petillius, and Virrius along with another Tribune rode out to meet the patrol. As they approached, the scout unit reined in their horses and saluted the officer.

  ‘My lord, we have a lead,’ said the Decurion in charge.

  ‘Explain,’ demanded Virrius.

  The cavalryman signalled to one of his comrades to come forward. Virrius saw a woman draped across the saddle in front of the rider. Without ceremony the scout tipped the woman off his horse to land in the mud, before dismounting and dragging her to her feet.

  ‘This woman knows where Boudicca is,’ said the rider.

  The woman looked up in terror.

  ‘Is this true?’ asked Virrius in the Britannic language. ‘Do you know where the warrior queen hides?’

  ‘No, Sir,’ she said, her eyes full of fear. ‘I know nothing of whom you speak.’

  Virrius looked at the Decurion with scorn.

  ‘What is this?’ he asked. ‘We have little time to play games; what makes you think she knows anything?’

  The Decurion nodded to the soldier standing beside the woman, who immediately turned and ripped apart the top of her dress. Both officers stared down at the bare-chested woman in silence. Around her neck was an exquisite necklace made from jade and gold, and bearing the likeness of the Roman goddess, Vesta.

  Virrius jumped off his horse and examined the necklace closely. It was definitely Roman and could only have been taken from one of the women in Camulodunum.

  ‘Where did you get this?’ he demanded.

  ‘I found it,’ stuttered the woman. ‘I found it in the dirt.’

  Virrius slapped her across the head with the back of his hand, knocking her to the ground. He turned to the scout leader.

  ‘Where did you find her?’ he asked.

  ‘Outside a village an hour’s ride away,’ said the Decurion.

  ‘Did they see you?’

  ‘No, my lord.’

  ‘Pick her up,’ ordered Virrius.

  The soldier dragged the woman to her feet and held her before the officer.

  ‘Now listen to me,’ said Virrius quietly. ‘I am going to make this really simple so even your pathetic barbarian mind can understand. My men here know your village and no doubt within that village there are families with children. You may even have some yourself.’

  The woman’s eyes flickered for a second.

  ‘Oh you do?’ said Virrius. ‘This makes it even easier. Either you know where the warrior queen hides or you don’t. If you do, you will tell us where to find her. If you tell the truth, you will be released and no harm will befall you or your village. However, if you don’t know where she is, or say you do and then it turns out to be a lie, I will send my cavalry over to your village and before the sun sets this day, they will kill every living adult before the eyes of your children. When they are done, every child irrespective of age or sex will be raped by my men before being crucified. You, lady, will watch all this with your own eyes before having them gouged out by my own hands. The sight of them suffering will be the last thing you see and you will wander blind until you starve to death, knowing it was you who were responsible for the fate of those children. Now, do you understand what is at risk here?’

  The woman nodded as tears rolled down her face.

  ‘Good. Then I will ask you again. Where is the army of the warrior queen?’

  For a few seconds the woman didn’t move but slowly she raised her arm and pointed off to the flank.

  ‘There,’ she said, ‘two day’s ride from here.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Virrius. ‘For I wouldn’t want to have to ride all the way back here to find your children.’

  ‘They are there,’ shouted the woman through her tears, ‘I swear before my gods I am telling the truth.’

  Virrius stared into the eyes of the woman.

  ‘Do you know what?’ he said. ‘I think you are. Thank you.’ Without warning he pl
unged his Gladius up through the woman’s stomach and into her heart. For a few seconds her eyes widened in shock, before she collapsed to the floor.

  Virrius climbed back up onto his horse and turned to his comrade.

  ‘It looks like we have found our army,’ he said.

  ‘Was there any need for that?’ asked the second Tribune.

  ‘Every need,’ said Virrius, ‘it’s the only language they understand.’ He turned to the Decurion in charge of the scout unit. ‘Decurion, take a hundred cavalry and burn that village to the ground. We are heading east, make sure you join us by dark.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ said the Decurion, and he and his men rode away to carry out their orders.

  Virrius rode back to the legion and joined Petillius.

  ‘My lord, we have the location of the barbarian army.’

  ‘Is it near?’

  ‘Two days ride in that direction,’ said Virrius. ‘By nightfall tomorrow this woman will be begging for mercy, and this time I’ll personally make sure she will never pose a problem to us ever again.’

  ‘Excellent news,’ said Petillius. ‘Pass word to the legion. We head east with immediate effect. Split into three columns and deploy all cavalry to the flanks. Order the engineers to ride forward and select a suitable place for tonight’s marching camp, no more than ten miles from here. We will go firm tonight and assess the situation tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ said Virrius and galloped down the lines to pass on the orders. Within ten minutes the legion wheeled eastward and split into three, each marching half a mile apart for maximum defence. Petillius watched the manoeuvre with pride, impressed at the parade ground precision of his well-drilled command, but unbeknownst to him, hidden within the treeline, others also watched the manoeuvres; people with a vested interest in learning everything they could about the legion. The scouts of Boudicca.

  * * *

  The following night, Taliesin sat back to back with another of the prisoners, their hands bound securely. Every minute since being captured a few days earlier he had watched for an opportunity to escape. During the march the prisoners were tied together by the neck with their hands tied behind their backs, and now the legion had encamped for the night, they were lashed together against a stake that had been driven into the ground.