The Dacian War (Book 6 of the Veteran of Rome Series)

by William Kelso

  “My name is Tiberius Claudius Maximus,” the trooper said boastfully, pointing a finger at Fergus. “Remember that name. I am going to be famous. Oh yes, you are looking at the face of a man who will be remembered by history.”

  “What are you famous for?” Fergus replied in a tired, disinterested-sounding voice as beside him he heard Aledus mutter, “for being a prick,” under his breath.

  In response Tiberius glanced at his comrades sitting around him and they all laughed.

  “I am the man who has the king’s ear,” Tiberius exclaimed with a mischievous grin, as he turned his attention back to Fergus. “Yes, that’s right.”

  Fergus frowned and shook his head. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Carefully Tiberius placed his cup of wine on the ground and then, turning to the bag that lay in his lap, he undid the leather bindings and slowly with both hands, he pulled out a bloodied and gory human head and held it up for all to see.

  “I present to you,” Tiberius cried out in triumph, “the head of King Decebalus. So, you see my friends, I truly do have the ear of the king,” and as Tiberius said those words, his fingers tapped the ear of the head and all around him the men burst out laughing.

  Fergus was staring at the gory, human head in stunned silence. Then he shook his head in disbelief.

  “That is king Decebalus’s head,” he exclaimed.

  “That’s right,” Tiberius said proudly showing the head to all the men around him, as if it was a prize trophy. “And I have the king’s right arm as well with his rings still attached. We are on our way to present Decebalus’s head and arm to Emperor Trajan. The war is over, boys and the king lost.”

  “The emperor sent us to track down King Decebalus. That’s why we are out here,” another trooper said. “Our mission was to find the king and capture him alive if possible, but if that was not possible we were to kill him. Those were our orders from Trajan himself. A few days ago, we finally caught up with the king in the mountains to the north of here. He only had a few bodyguards left with him and we killed them. Tiberius here was the first on the scene.”

  “What happened?” Fergus asked staring at Tiberius from across the camp fire.

  “Well,” Tiberius sighed as he turned to look down into the flames, “Decebalus was exhausted. I don’t think he’d had a proper rest in days. When I got to him he was lying on the ground and he still had his falx and he was wearing one of those peaked Dacian caps on his head. He was alone at this stage and we were on a steep rocky cliff. I had to dismount to get to him. When he saw me he tried to cut his own throat with his falx, but he did a bad job and I was able to get to him before he died.” Tiberius paused as he gazed into the fire. Then with a frown he shook his head. “He said something to me before he died, but I do not speak his language so I have no idea what it was that he told me. Anyway, after that I cut off his head and right arm. Trajan will demand proof that it was indeed King Decebalus, who we had caught and killed. There can be no rumours that the king may have escaped. That’s why I shall be presenting the head to the emperor in person.”

  “That is King Decebalus’s head, there is no mistake,” Bicilis said in a sharp, unhappy voice and as he did, all eyes turned to stare at the Dacian noble.

  “Who are you?” Tiberius snapped, his eyes narrowing.

  “My name is Bicilis and I am the king’s brother-in-law,” Bicilis replied, “and if you had any decency you would put that head back in that bag and bury it with honour. That is the king of Dacia you are talking about and he will remain a far greater man than you will ever be.”

  “Maybe I should cut off your head and present it to the emperor,” Tiberius said dropping the king’s head on the ground and rising menacingly to his feet.

  “No,” Fergus said quickly as he too rose to his feet and took a protective step towards where Bicilis was sitting. “This man is my prisoner and no one is going to harm him. I have orders to bring him to the emperor, alive, and that is what I am going to do. And any man who thinks otherwise will find my sword against their throat.”

  Seated on the ground beside the fire, Bicilis slowly turned his head and glanced at Fergus with an appreciative look before muttering something to himself in his Dacian language.

  ***

  It was still dark when Fergus was woken by a rough hand. As he hastily sat up, in the low, flickering fire light, he saw that it was Catinius.

  “Fergus,” Catinius whispered in the darkness, “it’s Bicilis. He wants to talk to you. He says that’s its important. He has been going on and on about speaking to you. The arsehole is getting on my nerves.”

  “This had better be good,” Fergus grunted, unhappy at having been woken up before his watch. Then swiftly he threw aside his army blanket and rose to his feet. Bicilis, Aledus, Catinius and Vittius had found a spot to sleep a little distance away from the camp fires and beside their horses. As he stumbled towards them through the darkness, Fergus quickly rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In the gloom Bicilis was sitting upright and both Aledus and Vittius were wide awake and crouching beside their prisoner.

  “What is going on?” Fergus snapped as he came up to the small group.

  “We need to leave now,” Bicilis said quietly, looking up at Fergus.

  “We will leave at dawn,” Fergus snapped irritably, “and by evening we should reach the emperor’s camp. What is the rush?”

  “There is no rush but we are not heading for the emperor’s camp,” Bicilis whispered in reply.

  Fergus grunted in surprise and slowly he crouched, so that his face was level with that of Bicilis. “Really,” Fergus exclaimed in a sarcastic voice. “Are you in charge now? I say we leave at dawn and head straight for Trajan’s camp. That is what we are going to do. That is what you yourself wanted. Have you really woken me up to tell me this?”

  “You haven’t asked me why?” Bicilis retorted in a whisper.

  “Why?” Fergus hissed.

  For a moment Bicilis did not reply and instead he glanced around in the darkness to make sure that they were alone.

  “I never managed to thank you,” Bicilis whispered, “for saving my daughter from being raped. If you and your men had not shown up in that mine, those Roman soldiers would have gang-raped both my daughter and my wife and probably slit their throats. They owe their lives to you and I am grateful for what you did and for protecting me from that thug last night.”

  “What has this got to do with not heading to the emperor’s camp tomorrow?” Fergus whispered in an annoyed voice.

  Once more Bicilis cast a furtive glance around him, but in the darkness the Roman camp was quiet and peaceful, disturbed only by the occasional snoring and the whinny of the cavalry horses. Then conspiratorially, the Dacian noble leaned towards Fergus and in the moonlight his eyes gleamed.

  “We shall go to meet emperor Trajan,” Bicilis whispered, “not tomorrow but the day after. There is something that I wish to show you four. Something that will change your lives forever.”

  “What are you talking about?” Aledus muttered.

  “You asked me once,” Bicilis whispered as he turned to look at Fergus, “what information I had which could be so important to the emperor. Well,” Bicilis swallowed, “now that the king is dead, I am the only person who knows where Decebalus has hidden the Dacian state treasury. If we leave now I shall show you where it is. The spot is not far from here, less than a few hour’s ride.”

  “The Dacian state treasury,” Catinius whispered, licking his lips. “What, you mean gold and silver and that sort of stuff?”

  “That’s right,” Bicilis nodded. “I shall show you the place where the king had it hidden and you four shall have the chance to take as much gold and silver as you can carry.”

  In the darkness and crouching beside Bicilis both Aledus and Vittius sharply sucked in their breath and for a moment no one uttered a word or made a noise.

  “Why are you doing this?” Fergus whispered at last. “Why are you telling us this now?�
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  “Because in the mine you saved my family,” Bicilis whispered, “and after this is done I shall owe you nothing. You see Roman, I know what you think about me, that I abandoned my troops and fled, but I am an honourable man and this way you shall always remember that it was I who made you rich. I reward those who help me. Now we must leave and you must trust me.”

  For a moment, Fergus stood rooted to the ground by indecision. What Bicilis had just told him sounded too fantastic to be true and yet, and yet, would an extra day’s delay to find out really matter?

  “Hang on,” Aledus whispered in the darkness. “You said we could take as much gold and silver as we could carry. So, how much gold and silver in this state treasury are we talking about? How much of the stuff has the king squirrelled away?”

  Bicilis took a deep breath. “King Decabalus’s hideaway contains four hundred and ninety-five thousand pounds of gold, over a million pounds of silver and the King’s spare robes, sword, old hunting bow and finger rings,” he whispered. “There is no treasure in the world like it and it’s hidden under a river bed.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two – The Treasure beneath the River

  The Sargetia river gurgled and cascaded over the rocks as it rushed through the forest. Along its low-lying stony banks, the trees came right up to the water’s edge. It was getting late in the day as Fergus and his companions watched from the bank as Bicilis slowly edged out into the river. The Dacian had taken off his boots and as he waded out into the middle of the river, Fergus could see that the water only came up to his knees.

  “It’s worse in the winter and spring when the snows come and melt,” Bicilis called out above the rush of the water. “Come in and I will show you where we buried it all. Come on before the light goes completely.”

  Cautiously Fergus looked around but amongst the forest all was peaceful and quiet and they seemed to be alone. Then gesturing for Catinius to stay behind and guard the horses, he moved towards the water. Without taking off his boots he strode into the river and waded out to where Bicilis was standing in the current. Part of him still could not really believe what the Dacian was telling him. Four hundred and ninety-five thousand pounds of gold and over a million pounds of silver. It was too vast a treasure to be able to imagine. As he came up to Bicilis, he heard Aledus and Vittius follow him into the river.

  “The king had this section of the river temporarily diverted,” Bicilis exclaimed as he looked down at the water, “and then he enlarged a cavity in the river bed and placed all his gold and silver inside, together with a few of his personal effects. He then had it covered with stones and earth and when all was complete, he restored the flow of the river to its original, natural course. The men who did the work were Roman prisoners. Afterwards Decebalus had them all executed so that none would be able to give away the location of the hiding place. And now when you look at the river you would never suspect the treasure that is buried beneath it. This is what I shall use to bargain with, when I meet Trajan. I am sure that the emperor of Rome will want to know the location of Decebalus’s treasury. It is the reason why he invaded my country.”

  Cautiously Fergus looked down at the water. The river was not deep, barely coming up to his knees but amongst the stony rocky riverbed he could see nothing out of the ordinary.

  “So where is the treasure?” Aledus said eagerly.

  “You are standing on it,” Bicilis replied. “The cavity stretches nearly from one side of the river to the other and it’s at least fifteen feet deep and twenty yards in length. Like I said, the treasure is huge.”

  “Jupiter’s horny cock,” Aledus muttered, as his eyes widened in astonishment.

  “How do we get it out” Fergus exclaimed as he poked at a stone with his boot.

  “Leave that to me,” Bicilis replied confidently.

  “Bring it all up,” Aledus exclaimed in sudden uncontrollable excitement, “Hell boys, we’re rich. We are going to have all the gold that we will ever need. This is a dream. Vittius slap my face and tell me that I am not dreaming.”

  In response Vittius leaned forwards and slapped Aledus hard across his face and he was rewarded with a painful, happy yelp.

  “Shit. It’s still true, we’re rich, we’re rich, we’re rich,” Aledus gasped, as his eyes bulged in their sockets.

  “Calm yourself,” Fergus hissed tensely and nervously. But there was no denying it. The thought that soon they would have as much gold as they could carry had completely undone him. It meant, Fergus suddenly realised, that he would now be able to do something for his family back on the Island of Vectis in faraway Britannia. And as the ideas and possibilities tumbled into his mind, he suddenly knew what he would do with this fortune. He would give it to his family for safe keeping and as the thought came to him, he too felt a sudden flood of excitement. Striving to contain himself, Fergus turned to his two companions.

  “Listen,” he said, “if Bicilis is right and we are able to take away as much gold as we can carry, we are still going to have limit ourselves. Gold is heavy and it makes a noise and we can only carry so much. Have you forgotten our journey into Germania? What do you think the rest of the cohort are going to think when we rock up with saddle bags filled with a fortune? Best outcome is that they are going to want to know where we got it from, worst case scenario is that we have our throats cut in the night and our fortunes stolen.”

  “Fergus is right,” Vittius exclaimed. “Shit, I hadn’t thought of that. We shall have to limit ourselves in what we take.”

  “Fuck that I am not limiting myself, no way,” Aledus hissed. “We will never have a chance like this again boys. Our descendants will still be benefiting from what happens here tonight, in a hundred years’ time.”

  “No,” Fergus said sharply as he turned towards Aledus and shook his head. “We take only as much as we can carry and as much as we can hide on ourselves. I don’t care where you stuff that gold, but no one must know about this. This must remain our secret, between the four of us, forever. No one must know. If word gets out the army will never allow us to keep this treasure. It’s too big and I do not want to be watching my back all the time. It also means that we won’t be able to spend it when the army is around, because it will raise questions as to how we became so wealthy overnight.”

  “Fergus is right,” Vittius muttered, glancing at Aledus. “This must remain our secret. No one else can know about this.”

  In the river Aledus lowered his head and stared at the water for a long moment. Then wearily he nodded in agreement.

  “Agreeing to keep this our secret is not enough,” Fergus said sharply. “All four of us, we must swear an oath, on our honour and our friendship, that none of us shall ever reveal the source of this wealth. Bicilis is right. This is going to change our lives and those of your families. Now swear.”

  ***

  The villagers who lived in the tiny Dacian settlement of Ranisstorum must have never experienced anything like this before Fergus thought, as he, Bicilis and his three companions slowly rode through the Roman camp towards the centre of the sea of white, army-tents. The Dacian hamlet, nothing more than a village of wooden and thatched huts, clustered around a stream, had been dwarfed by the vast Roman camp that had suddenly been pitched beside it. Inside the camp, Fergus had noticed and counted numerous unit banners, from which he had deduced that there must be at least two full legions present and numerous, attached auxiliary, Praetorian and cavalry units. That would amount to around fifteen thousand men Fergus thought, as he gazed at the activity around him. At Fergus’s side, and riding his horse, Bicilis had his eyes fixed firmly on the horizon. The Dacian nobleman had been silent ever since they had spotted the Roman camp. The time to hand him over was fast approaching, but after the dizzying events of yesterday, Fergus thought, everything had changed in a most spectacular manner and he still couldn’t entirely believe it. Cautiously he twisted in his saddle to glance back at Aledus, Catinius and Vittius who were riding side by side. The three young soldier
s could not stop grinning, their secret, silent smiles as wide and stupid as imbeciles. Over Catinius’s shoulder he had slung a Sarmatian composite bow with a quiver of arrows. Bicilis had pulled the bow from the treasure horde and had told them that the old hunting bow had belonged to king Decebalus and Catinius had promptly made himself its new owner.

  “Stop smiling,” Fergus hissed tensely, “and start looking serious and normal. People will suspect something is up if you keep looking like that.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he turned to look ahead towards the section of the camp which seemed to be reserved for the senior officers. The four of them had spent nearly the whole night stuffing and hiding gold coins into every available space of their clothing, army belt, boots, in the lining of their helmets and in the saddle bags of their horses. It had been painstaking, greedy work, but when dawn had come, Fergus had insisted on an inspection to check them to see whether anyone would notice the wealth that they now possessed. They had all passed his inspection but Aledus had still insisted on placing a large bag of coins in a hole underneath a tree, some distance from the river, which he had then marked with a large A. A reserve in case he ever ran out, Aledus had explained. And after that there had been no more talk of whether they would meet the emperor or what they thought of Bicilis. The Dacian had with one single stroke made them all very, very wealthy men. And as he thought about the wealth that was hidden all over his body and in his horse’s saddlebags, Fergus too, had to force himself not to smile.